Chapter Text
‘What do you mean?’
Anders paused as he stepped back into his trousers and looked at the elf, a bit stunned by the question.
‘Err, your name? I was asking because, well, or unless of course you don’t want to give me your name which is all good by me since you obviously took care of me and maybe your people don’t do names. That’s what you did, right? I mean I woke up in a bed, mostly clothed and not tied to anything, so I assume...’
‘Fenris.’ The warrior heard himself reply which stopped Anders in mid-babble. Dread was creeping up Fenris’ spine as he looked at his lover fumbling through their conversation as if...
Anders pulled his tunic over his head as he said, ‘Well met. Now, ahem, I should probably thank you for, well, you said you carried me here? So as I was asking earlier: where is here exactly?’
As if they were strangers.
‘You...,’ Fenris began and stopped. Panic was fighting for the upper hand. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself.
‘Am I scaring you ?’ Anders asked his voice calm but his friendly smile seemed to try to crawl away from him. ‘I swear I mean you no harm,’ he added quickly as the question had seemed to only fuel the elf’s fear. He was pointedly not looking at his coat, adorned with feathery pauldrons which lay only two feet away from them on the wet grass.
‘I don’t. I mean I’m not afraid. Not of you, mage.’ Mage? He hadn’t called Anders that in years. This was not happening, he needed to calm down or he would do something that would almost certainly freak Anders out like scream. He wanted to scream.
‘Ah, so you do know what I am, that’s a relief. Because usually that’s the moment when people come after me with pointy things and call for the templars, very loudly I might add.’ Anders said with feint mirth. He walked over to his coat, slipped it on and closed the buckles.
‘You don’t remember anything?’ Fenris asked and dreading the answer.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one though. Fenris noticed the tensing of the man’s shoulders as his lover took his time to put on his boots, stalling to avoid having to face the obvious.
When the blonde man finally dared to look up, his smile had given up all pretence. ‘I should go.’
Fenris eyes widened, ‘What? No.’ He rushed forward only to stop dead as Anders’ hand twitched. The lyrium brands pulsed as an answering call to the summoning of mana.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ Anders said quickly, his hand raised in a defensive gesture, ice crystals dancing around his palm.
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Fenris snarled back, bewildered and angry. Why was this happening? Two days ago they had been kissing on this very spot.
~*~
‘It’ll be three years tomorrow,’ Anders said smiling softly as he wrapped his arms around Fenris to pull him into a tight embrace.
Fenris pressed his lips to Anders’.
A little over three years ago Anders had turned up at his rightfully appropriated mansion in Hightown. It had been the day they had slain Danarius.
Anders had been there, had fought alongside him, bled for him, only to accuse him of jealousy when they had learned that Varania was also a mage.
Hawke had yelled at Anders to get the fuck out of the ‘Hanged Man’ which he did, barely containing the demon inside him. In the end Fenris had let his sister go and had fled to his mansion.
He had thought once his former master lay dead, it would all go away: the pain, the fear, the hate, only to find that nothing had changed.
Hawke had dropped by that night. The rogue had tried her best to console him but it had been no use, so she too had left Fenris to brood.
Wavering between anger and dread, Fenris had been surprised to find another late night visitor at his doorstep.
‘What do you want, mage?’ Fenris snarled, pacing restlessly in front of the fire in his bedroom.
‘I came to apologise,’ Anders replied softly, deflating Fenris’ rightful anger which somehow made it worse.
‘If you’re looking for absolution, you came to the wrong place. Get out!’
‘Stop, just stop,’ Anders pleaded. Fenris glared at the intruder but he stopped his pacing.
‘I shouldn’t have said what I said. She betrayed you and you had no idea who or what she was. I... I guess I am just so... Varric told me you let her go. How... I mean you must feel...’ Anders faltered.
‘What’s it to you, mage?’ Fenris practically spat the last word. ‘All my life, all my life your kind has tormented me and even in death he still haunts me. I can’t shake it. I just can’t!’
‘I know,’ Anders replied quietly. ‘It consumes every fibre of your soul everything you are, the hatred burns it away and leaves nothing.’
‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare pretend to understand me. You understand nothing.’
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Anders mumbled and made to leave, turning his back on Fenris. It stung like a slap to the face.
In a flash Fenris was on Anders, pressing him face first into the cold wall next to the open door. ‘Why did you come?’ Fenris hissed into the blonde man’s ear.
Anders didn’t struggle if anything he seemed to relax into Fenris’ hold.
‘I felt like an idiot after what I said at the ‘Hanged Man,’ especially after Varric told me you let her go. I’m afraid. I’m afraid I will lose myself in vengeance and I won’t be able to stop myself. If Hawke hadn’t sent me away I might have killed you today.’
‘You might have tried to kill me,’ Fenris replied coolly. ‘I will ask one more time, why are you here?’
‘I don’t know,’ Anders replied quietly. ‘I don’t know.’
Fenris felt Anders shake in his grip, he turned him around and pinned him to the wall by the shoulders.
Anders looked at him then and Fenris had to look away. No, he didn’t want to see it. The past five years he has fought to not see this.
‘You are nothing like me.’ Fenris hissed as if it made it any less true. ‘You are everything I hate in this world.’
‘Then kill me.’
Fenris mouth dropped open.
Anders hands were suddenly around Fenris’ wrists. One hand placing the elf’s over his heart. ‘Right here. Do it.’
Fenris’ brands lit up.
‘All I ever wanted was to be free.’ Anders whispered quietly and closed his eyes.
Fenris smashed his fist into the wall next to Anders’ head. The mage opened his eyes when he felt Fenris’ forehead touching his chest. A sob that he had tried to hold in eventually escaped Anders as he simply stood, resting his back against his wall while Fenris leaned against him.
‘I hate you,’ Fenris whispered.
‘I know,’ Anders replied.
Fenris looked up at him then and kissed him for the first time.
Three years later on the evening before their anniversary, Anders confessed, ‘I was terrified I would kill you one day.’
Fenris lifted his head from Anders’ chest where had been enjoying his afterglow. ‘I keep telling you that you would have only succeeded in trying.’
‘I’m serious.’ Anders grumbled back.
Fenris sighed. 'Must we talk about this now?’
‘Yes, we must.’
‘Hn,’ Fenris huffed. ‘ You wouldn’t have killed me. You were already in love with me.’
‘I was.’
‘Really?’ Fenris quirked an eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ Anders smiled.
‘I thought you said I frustrated you every minute of every hour of every day.’
‘Maker yes, you really did. But you were still hot as hell and it wasn’t as if you didn’t have good reasons for your anger. I just wanted you to admit that I had a point as well.’
Fenris knew that this was dangerous. If they continued they would soon spend the rest of the night arguing over the rights of mages and he really wasn’t in the mood.
Change of tactics, he had learned that from his lover who was champion in avoiding ‘things I do not want to deal with right now.’
Fenris rolled to his side and pulled Anders with him until they had reversed their positions.
‘I know what you’re doing.’ Anders said but couldn’t quite keep the scowl in place.
‘So about that surprise you promised me for tomorrow,’ Fenris started wrapping his legs around Anders’ waist in the process.
‘You’ll simply have to wait until tomorrow,’ Anders replied, mage argument thankfully forgotten for the moment.
‘Not even a hint?’ Fenris asked slyly while doing his best to grind against his lover.
Anders tried to bite back a moan and failed.
‘Maker’s breath, you will be the death of me, elf. How about I make the time pass faster by fucking you until you scream my name instead?’
‘Works for me.’
~*~
‘Look, I just want to go my way. The templars will come looking for me soon and I would rather be a long way off. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you. If they figure you’ve been helping an apostate, you are in for a world of sodding hurt. So, no offence my friend, but this is good-bye.’
Anders summoned a cone of cold in an attempt to trap Fenris in a wall of ice only to find a blue, ghost-like apparition to appear right in front of him, grabbing him by the pauldrons and throwing him into the brook.
Spluttering Anders surfaced but before he could get his bearings, the glowing elf was on top of him, dragging him up by his collar and dropping him on the grass.
‘Listen to me,’ Fenris said urgently. ‘There are no templars here and no Wardens for that matter.’
‘How do you...’
Fenris silenced him with a gesture. ‘What year is it?’
‘What year?’
The elf was still faintly glowing. ‘Maker, is that lyrium?’
‘Answer the question!’ Fenris shouted.
‘Dragon 31 of course.’
Anders fell back on the grass as the other abruptly let him go as if he his coat was on fire. Fenris was looking at him in shear terror.
‘Or maybe 32? Don’t tell me I missed the Saturnalia party?’ Anders quipped, hoping it would serve as the distraction he needed.
And it worked, suddenly the elf was sitting in his lap cradling his face in those lyrium adorned hands, murmuring a curse in what sounded like Tevene.
It was all Anders needed to unleash mind blast. The hands let go of his face as the white haired elf slumped off him and slowly toppled sideways onto the grass.
‘Sorry, my friend,’ was all Anders said before he ran off into the forest.