The abomination… the mage…. Anders ducked back inside and came out a few moments later slightly less disheveled.

"Can we walk?" he said shortly. "Liesel just fell asleep and Saoirse will roast me alive if I wake her."

Isabela jerked her head towards the massive golem statue. "Why don't we talk under that, since you know, it's not at all intimidating."

Anders rolled his eyes, but stalked towards the statue and leaned against it, crossing his arms and giving her that look.

In Kirkwall he'd never had the… arrogance he had here, Fenris thought. There was always a sense of impending disaster about him, too thin, too scruffy, too desperate. Fenris supposed he should have realised what the mage was planning - the mess left behind him in Kirkwall was certainly disastrous enough for all of that creeping foreshadowing.

"So," he said, eyes fixed on Fenris. "What is it?"

He bared his teeth. "Ask Isabela," he said shortly. "I did not want to come back."

Anders gave a little twitch of his eyebrows and an almost smile that Fenris wanted to punch, but Isabela ignored the play between the two of them and prodded Anders in the chest with one brown finger.

"A few things, sweet thing," she said, and though the endearment was heart felt (Fenris had never liked the affection she held for the mage) her voice was hard. "A few things that Fenris wouldn't ask because he has a stick inserted somewhere he…. usually quite likes other things inserted, but not when it comes to humbling his pride in front of you…" Fenris winced and looked down.

"More information than I needed, Isabela."

"More information is exactly what I want," she said. "One: Fenris is afraid if you do this thing he'll lose his memory again. Will he?"

Anders glanced his way, eyes calculating. "I don't think so," he said. "I can't be certain though. I suspect Danarius used another spell on top of the ritual to expunge Fenris' memory. If that isn't the case then nothing I do will affect his memory, I'm not going to be using blood magic."

"If it isn't?"

Anders scowled. "If it isn't then his memory loss was a direct result of the ritual. But even that's not clear cut because…" Anders eyes shifted to Fenris' again and then back to Isabela… "lots of things can cause memory loss. Trauma among them. It's quite possible the pain of the ritual was enough to erase Fenris' memories."

"Shit. So you're saying we're screwed? And not in the good way."

Anders shook his head. "No. I can stop the pain."

Fenris' head shot up. "You can what?"

Anders looked irritated and waved a hand. "What sort of healer do you take me for?" he said. "I'm not a butcher. When I operate on people I give them healing magic to ease their pain. I don't imagine Danarius gave you the same courtesy."

"You know full well he did not."

"Don't give me that face. I've never owned a slave."

"Much as both your angry faces give me tingles, this isn't the point of our conversation," Bela had one eyebrow raised and she turned to Anders. "You can stop him from feeling the pain?"

Anders shrugged. "Most of it. Some of it. I've… never inserted lyrium into a living thing before." The mage looked distant for a while. "I never had the stomach for live experiments, but it might be called for here. A few deepstalkers with lyrium tattoos should be enough to prove the point."

"What… you'll insert lyrium into them and see if they'll …scream?"

Anders shrugged. "Basically," the mage rubbed his stubble and sighed. "The problem is that it's lyrium, Isabela." He did not like the way the mage said her name. "It's unstable, unpredictable - the very reason Fenris is implanted with it could be the reason why it wiped his memory. I don't think that's why it happened but you know I haven't done this before so I can't be entirely certain."

Isabela made a face. "Will the experiments help?"

Anders shrugged. "They might. But my instincts… " he glanced at Fenris "and my training are telling me that there isn't really any pain I can't suppress. And animals are never truly reliable as test subjects - they're not human, their bodies don't work the same way as ours do. And there's no way for me to check if what I do affects their memory."

"So it would be a pointless delay?"

"I think so."

"Not to mention the extra expense," Fenris muttered.

Anders raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you're worried about, Fenris? How much it's going to cost?"

He shifted uncomfortably and did not meet the mage's eyes.

Isabela sighed. "I should have realised." She turned and placed a palm flat on his chest, pushing him away from Anders and waving at the mage to stay where he was. Anders rolled his eyes and stalked a few feet away muttering under his breath, or perhaps he was conversing with his pet spirit.

Fenris wondered wildly for a second if Justice thought this was a worthy use of his time and resources.

"Fenris you're being an ass," Isabela said when they were somewhat more private. The other mages and templars were avoiding the bridge, although he could see a few out of the corner of his eye glancing up towards them. "They're offering you help and you think they don't know what they're doing…"

"I did not kill Danarius to place myself in debt to more mages!" he snarled.

He did not imagine the movement as every head within fifty feet turned in their direction. Isabela rolled her eyes and shot a look down at the town.

"Maker's tits and arse, man, they offered…"

He crossed his arms across his chest. "No one offers something like this without expecting something in return."

She looked at him, her eyes round and dark, full lips pressed together, for a long moment. "That's true, Fenris. But do you honestly think Hawke thinks she owes you nothing?" the lips quirked in a half smile. "Not to mention all the things she owes me…"

"This is not a gambling debt, Isabela. They are going to bankrupt themselves to save my life…"

Her eyes narrowed and she put her fists on her hips, looking to the side and sucking in her cheeks.

"All right. We'll play this game then, if it's what you want." She jabbed at his chest with a finger. "What did you do, back in Kirkwall, when Hawke asked you to fight on the side of the mages?"

He frowned and looked down. "I fought with her. Naturally."

"Why? Sebastian as good as offered you a position on his guard, you could have gone with him and fought righteous wars against the unfaithful…"

Fenris snorted. "The man is a fool."

"A fool who could have given you a free life. A normal life."

"What do you think I'm living now?"

Her eyelid twitched. "Why did you fight for Hawke, Fenris?"

"Pfah. Why ask this? You know…"

"I don't. I know why I did, and my reasons are pretty much all selfish. So I'm going to go with yours being the same way, because you know I lack imagination…"

"Isabela!"

She hit him on the arm. "You fought for her because you love her, you idiot. We all do. Just because you don't want to fuck her any more doesn't mean you can't care for her, and just because she'd rather make babies with the crazy tainted mage doesn't mean she doesn't love you either. And when you love someone, you fight for them, and you don't feel like they owe you anything, because when they survive it's all the payment you'll ever need."

"I didn't fight for her!"

The words escaped him without volition. If he could have taken them back, he would have, but they were there now, lying between them like a sleeping bearskein.

He should have known that she would not let them lie.

"Who did you fight for then?" she asked.

He looked up. They were almost of a height, and the slant of the bridge they stood on put her above him. At any other time he would have taken the moment to acknowledge her beauty, the smooth brown curves he knew so well yet could never stop revisiting but now, all he could see was her face. He eyes were narrow, her lower lip caught between white, white teeth, one eyebrow delicately raised.

He looked away before he answered. Her gaze demanded honesty, but it did not mean he had to face her while he delivered it. "For you," he said. "You made it clear you would stand by Hawke no matter what she did, no matter what he did… and I… " he shook his head and looked at his hands. "I found I did not want to be without you."

For a few seconds the muffled sounds of the thaig were all that he could hear, then there were fingers on his arm and although some part of him screamed danger another part welcomed the touch and she was there beneath his lips, soft and yielding and Isabela..

Not his. Never his. But the feeling she gave him - the lift of his heart and his spirits, that was his, he could own that feeling and he would, he would, because in the end it was the truest slice of the many freedoms she had given him.

"Do this for me then," she whispered against his lips, and he could have said no, he knew that, and that…

…that was the reason he didn't