#fiif update

An apple. Lanil wondered if the others, all awake now, were eating something as deliciously simple as a fresh apple. Obviously Hawke couldn’t wake up in the wagon to join them for lunch, and wherever Anders slept, he had chosen to remain asleep so Justice could be at their side until Hawke was safely out. Of course, Lanil had to stay asleep to keep Hawke in her dream. No one wanted to know what would happen if Lanil woke up and left Hawke behind. Would she immediately get lost or would she stay exactly where Lanil had left her? Would Lanil get lost falling asleep in some other portion of the Fade that called to her mage-mind and waste precious hours leading everyone back to Hawke? No, nothing like that was worth risking. Lanil was the anchor, so she would stay anchored at Hawke’s side. Everyone else, however, had intervals where they could wake up, eat, drink, stretch their limbs, make sure water and broth made their way into Lanil’s gullet without choking her, before falling right back into her dream.

“Lanil Surana,” Justice started, repeating himself in the exact same tone he used before.

“Lane is fine,” she said without thinking about it. Justice smiled at her. It wasn’t her brother’s indulgent little smirk, but it was a genuine smile on Anders’ face.

“Lane,” he began again, sounding fonder, but still too serious, “Anders is the Healer, not I. There’s only so much of his abilities that I can utilize. How much longer will Hawke last if we carry on the same as we have?”

Lanil blinked, throat constricting and the feeling of iron bands tightening around her chest. No matter how many hours she saved by refusing to awaken, no matter how little recuperation their friends got when they went to the material world and swiftly returned, no matter how easily Justice led them forward, it was still weeks of travel to get to the Emerald Graves via wagon and also via Fade. Weeks of Hawke trudging wearily, steadfastly along. If Justice was speaking truly and Hawke had drunk the last potion she’d had on her…

“Days. She has days left,” Lanil murmured. “People, living, breathing, material people, require clean, fresh water. As for food, she could last a little longer without it, but in the end, she can and will starve before we make it that far. Hawke can maybe last a little longer by creating water or food from mana… but it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be enough and it would deplete her mana. Eventually her mana will stop replenishing, too.”

Silence fell between them.

Then, his hand was on the top of her head, ruffling her hair lightly. The familiar touch made her eyes and nose sting.

“It will be all right, Lane. We’ve come too far and fought too hard to have it end like that,” Justice said. He dropped his hand and walked over to Hawke’s curled up form. Like a sentinel, like the Valor Spirit he’d initially reminded her of, the Spirit-mage stood straight and tall at the foot of the daybed Hawke lay on and silently watched her sleep.

Lanil couldn’t bear to see it a moment longer. She spun on her heel and strode away, staying close enough the Fade wouldn’t shift under her feet and take her away, but far enough to breathe. The sickening feeling of failure was spreading under her skin like a poison. Without Dorian or the Iron Bull to distract her, it was too hard to ignore it. To banish it with the stubborn hope she’d been clinging to since they’d left her Great Road and the Nightmare behind.