Chapter Text
Fenris had never placed much thought into looking at his surroundings beyond observation in the name of survival. But there was something about the camp that Hawke had picked out for his merry band of misfits that made him look past hazardous terrain and potential ambush points.
They had set up at the edge of a woodland pool a little way from the Dalish camp. The area looked relatively untouched by travellers and bandits; even the Dalish themselves. Every tree and rock was covered in deep green moss and surrounded by bracken. Creeper’s and other climbing plants wound their way around anything in their path, with flowers ranging from white to a soft pink, blooming sporadically along the vines. The trees were tall though not particularly broad, the leaves in the canopy filtered out the setting sun, dappling the forest floor with a kaleidoscope of yellows, oranges and golds. The clear water of the pool was still, reflecting its surroundings with near perfect clarity. Fenris found himself mesmerised by the peaceful beauty of this place, never in all his time spent on the run could he recall coming across a place like this. He felt he could sit and marvel at this place for hours, just absorbing its quiet radi-- “Andraste’s frilly knickers!! Where is it?” -- ance.
All feeings of peace and contentment fled and were replaced with a feeling that Fenris could only call “mage”. He looked over to the source of that feeling to find Anders frantically searching through all his belongings, a pinched look of frustration between his brows. “I had it ten minutes ago! Where has it gone?” He grumbled as he riffled through the various compartments in his knapsack.
“What have you lost sweet thing?” Isabela purred from the half-finished fire pit.
“My herb pouch. I need it for poultices for Darktown’s most recent illness.”
“Oh dear, when did you last see it?” Merrill asked as she added another flower to Hawkes hair, a foolish grin forming on his face under her attentions.
“About ten minutes ago by my pack, before I went to wash up.” The mage ran a hand through his drying hair and let out a growl of frustration.
Fenris could feel a headache forming between his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, in an attempt to quell it. But with Anders continuing to complain about his missing herbs, the elf knew that all attempts to regain serenity would be in vain. The mage had begun to chew his lip and with a sigh, Fenris resigned himself to his fate and walked over to the distressed blonde.
He crouched next to the mage and gently cupped his stubbled jaw, pulling his full lower lip from between his teeth with his thumb. “Anders,” honey eyes met soft green, “working yourself into a state will not aid you in finding your pouch.” Anders sighed, “I know love, it’s just… the people of Darktown really need those herbs. I only have so much magic and the herbs were supposed to help with that.”
“Can you not simply heal them and give them a health potion?” Fenris asked.
“I could, yes, but…” Anders looked away and began chewing his lip again. Fenris removed the lip and gave Anders a look that he hoped would encourage him to continue. “But if I had those herbs, my magic would only be needed in serious cases and then maybe…” the mage turned to fully face Fenris, a guilty look in his kind eyes, “I could come home when you’re actually awake.”
A small huff of amusement escaped the warrior’s lips. He was about to explain how silly Anders was being for thinking Fenris objected to his mage coming home in the early hours of the morning after healing the sick and downtrodden of Kirkwall, when a loud booming honk sounded from the pool.
Both men turned toward the offending sound to see a huge bird with a long powerful neck and long legs ending in wicked looking talons, standing among the water lilies a few meters from them. The bird probably came up to his shoulders, Fenris mused and had beady red eyes and a long sharp beak that could easily remove an eye if provoked. When he looked closer he could see that it was holding something in its beak. “My herbs!” Anders exclaimed as he shot to his feet and pointed accusingly at the feathered beast. “Give those back right now you feathery thief or I’ll use your plumage for a new robe!” The thief in question seemed to take offence at the threats being hurled its way and promptly turned and began to make its way across to the opposite side of the pool. “Shit! Get back here!” Anders cried as he began to sprint after the bird along the edge of the pool. “Anders!” Fenris tried to get the mage to slow down and think, but he was already pounding through the underbrush towards the far end of the water.
Fenris looked to his companions in hopes of help and all he received was a look that said ‘if your crazy mage wants to pick a fight with a scary-ass bird you’re on your own’. So with a growl of frustration Fenris dashed off in pursuit of his fool mage.