Title: Herzschmerz

Fandom: Dragon Age

Characters/Pairings: Fenris, Anders, Marian & Garrett Hawke, DA2 crew sans Sebastian; Cullen, Karl Thekla; Anders/Karl, established Merribela, not really Fenders but they're getting there slowly

Rating: T?

Warnings: OOC-ness (well, this is AU, some OOC is to be expected); sometimes swearing; character death

Summary: Anders' big secret is out, Fenris doesn't know what to do with this knowledge, and everyone is confused and/or angry after Anders tells them about his plan that involves kidnapping a certain someone right from the Gallows. / modern magic AU

Disclaimer: Dragon Age is not mine, although the writing certainly is.

A/N: herzschmerz (n.) heartache; an emotional pain in the heart

Anders/Karl is nothing but PAIN. Let's make it even more painful, then! /kicks self

It was supposed to be a oneshot but I decided to divide it into chapters so it wouldn't look like a wall of text.

It's a continuation of my previous fic, Ser Pounce, though you don't have to read it to get what's going on in this one. The basic idea is that it's a modern AU but with magic, elves etc... All Hawke siblings are alive. Carver is a templar. Bethany is a Circle mage. Marian is a mage as well, while Garrett is a rogue.

Fenris' POV. I found myself enjoying writing his perspective, even though I like Anders as a character more ( I'm afraid I wouldn't do him justice, no pun intended).

I'm my own beta, so I apologize in advance for all mistakes :|


For the third time today, Fenris cursed humanity as a whole. He barely avoided stepping on a broken bottle which was like a spikey trap right in the middle of the pavement. People ignored it even if they did step on it; shoes protected their feet so why bother cleaning up something that could cause problems to others. Fenris was still reluctant to the very idea of wearing shoes, although at times like this he could certainly see the disadvantage of walking barefoot in the dumpster that was Kirkwall.

City of Chains should be renamed City of Filth, Fenris mused.

His mind returned to an overused thought of blaming mages for everything; this time, however, Fenris was right, at least partially. The elf assisted Marian and Garrett on a job that was supposed to be easy. Of course it was not.

Smugglers? No problem. Smugglers that were also mages? Way too many problems.

Garrett asked Fenris to report what they had discovered to Cullen, and Fenris, as tired as he was, couldn't say no. He had some serious dependency issues when it came to the older Hawke siblings, the elf was sure, but it didn't bother him as much as it should. At least he had a sense of belonging.

They should have taken Anders with them, Fenris reluctantly agreed after Garrett got hit; the man was annoying but surprisingly effective in combat. Not to mention he was a gifted healer who would deal with Hawke's injury in seconds. So while Marian took her brother to the emergency (she was a mage specialising in setting people on fire, not healing them, sadly), they sent Fenris to Cullen. The elf cursed not only the mages who attacked them, but one mage in particular for not being available when he was needed.

There were days when they wouldn't hear from Anders as if the man got lost in the Fade. Sometimes they worried he was captured by templars and locked up once and for good after yet another anti–Circle demonstration, but Anders seemed to be lucky enough to stay away from his captors and enjoy freedom (at least for now). He claimed he's busy with the clinic, and others believed him; at times Isabela tried to satisfy her curiosity and question him after getting massively drunk, though Anders never said more than vaguely declaring he had some 'personal matters' to deal with.

Fenris didn't care to listen to the mage anyway, although there were times when Anders appeared... intriguing (for the lack of a better word; not that Fenris was intrigued, because he obviously wasn't). One could consider the man's devotion a lost cause (Varric) or madness (Fenris), it did not stop Anders from trying. While the rest of them finished their education, Anders was expelled – it never stopped him for a second, on the contrary, he found more time and energy to, firstly, help the poor in a hole he called his clinic in Darktown, and secondly, for a crazy idea called Mage Underground, as if Anders wasn't already Knight–Commander Meredith's first target on her Red List Of Death (she looked like the kind of person who could have such list, possibly written in blood of an unfortunate mage who dared to offend her).

Whether templars were so stupid or Anders so lucky Fenris didn't know, however, the mage was living as an apostate in charge of an unregistered clinic for quite some time now. Perhaps Aveline had something to do with it, after all she worked as the guard captain; or maybe Carver listened to his older siblings for once, and was helping to draw templars' attention as far from Anders as possible.

Their group still met from time to time, usually for the Wicked Grace night in the Hanged Man (that had become significantly better once Varric bought the place). Fenris frequently worked with Marian and Garrett for their freelance business.

Fenris walked forward, ignoring crowds of people around him. They didn't matter, nothing more than mindless masses causing more problems every day. He stopped, waiting for the light to change. All that noise around him was slowly giving him a headache. The light changed, he quickly crossed the street, going in the direction of the most dreadful of all Kirkwall districts, the Gallows. The fact that it was separated from the rest of the city, and that there was only one way to get there – by ferry, during specific hours, made it appear more ominous. One could only wonder what was going on behind the high walls.

Fenris preferred to leave alone not only this district, but Kirkwall as a whole, separating himself from whatever problems this blighted city had. He was only doing his job, working for Hawkes, and occasionally helping Aveline as well. At least he wasn't locked up in the alienage with the rest of elves, like Merrill (though it seemed the Dalish girl liked living there for some unknown reason, but then again she was enthusiastic about getting mugged the other day).

The Gallows always looked gloomy. Fenris focused on his current task instead of analysing the solemn atmosphere. Being so close to the Circle of Magi made his markings itch; he could barely tolerate two mages on their team, there was no need for him to tolerate others. Marian was a mage herself, but she was Marian Hawke who was on the entirely different level, and Fenris would never see her as one of the power–hungry, demon–loving abominations.

He scanned the main square locating the nearest templar who looked bored enough to help him with his task.

"I wish to speak to Knight–Captain Cullen," Fenris announced. No use playing nice or greeting the man, he wasn't here to make friends.

The young templar glowered at him, clearly offended by his demanding tone of voice. "I'm afraid he's not available at the moment."

So you better turn around and leave, knife ear, his eyes said the rest.

Fenris gritted his teeth. "I'm here on the behalf of the Champions of Kirkwall, Marian and Garrett Hawke. They wish to deliver a message to Cullen, that's why I need to speak with him in person."

Humans always looked down on elves, on him especially, oozing this false sense of superiority, claiming to be better because of their race. Men like this were nothing but vermin, Fenris was sure, though he was in no position to question their status, being an outcast with no real power.

Having the Champions behind his back could get Fenris, an elf!, everywhere. Mentioning their names was enough, he learned, and proved exceptionally helpful in all kind of situations. Being known as their friend was surely beneficial, although Fenris never saw their relationship as only business; it was more complicated than that. He was proud to call them his friends.

Hearing about Marian and Garrett, the man's expression changed. Fenris could nearly see the templar's brain working hard to connect the dots and produce a big red sign HAWKE = MUST RESPECT.

"I'll inform Knight–Captain immediately," the man nodded and walked away.

Humans were annoying, but thankfully fairly easy to manipulate. Only mages proved to be difficult, always getting on the elf's nerves. And speaking of mages...

The Gallows were infamous not only because the place used to be a prison, long time ago when these lands belonged to the Tevinter Imperium. The main reason was that Tranquil mages lived here, gullible sheep guided by their watchful wolves from the templar order. Some of them could be seen around the main square selling various goods (never complaining about the scorching sun; Tranquil never complained), while the rest was hidden inside the fortress, busy with countless chores. There were rumours circulating around Kirkwall, about Meredith's reign of terror and the so–called Tranquil Solution. Fenris wrinkled his nose; Anders always complained loudly about it. When Fenris was in the right mood, he teased the mage hoping to make the man mad (which was very easy). When he wasn't, he found the mage's plight for freedom and such irritating.

Fenris glanced around, feeling uneasiness creeping up to him. He wouldn't admit it, but the blank stares of Tranquil, always so peaceful and emotionless, made him anxious. They were... unnatural. No creature should have such empty eyes. Fenris scanned his surroundings again, Cullen was nowhere to be seen. He hated this place.

Then Fenris noticed a familiar figure by the other door leading inside, his mind stopped working for a second because the situation seemed so surreal it was hardly believable to be happening.

It was Anders. The apostate came to the Gallows. Willingly? It seemed so, as he wasn't in shackles, and more importantly...

The mage looked different.

Not that Fenris generally cared about Anders, usually he tried to avoid looking at the man (unfortunately not hearing whatever Anders had to say wasn't an option, unless Fenris considered silencing him for good). This time, however, Anders was far from his usual dishevelled self. Instead of an old t–shirt or his ridiculous coat with feathers, he wore clothes that could be considered normal: a shirt and dark jeans, both probably from a second–hand shop but good enough, not too shabby. He seemed like a guy who did get a good night sleep, for once, bags under his eyes almost not visible. And he shaved, so that his face was unnaturally smooth, giving him a much younger look of a man who didn't spend sleepless nights working overtime in a piss–poor clinic in the filth of Darktown.

Anders looked not only different, he looked so odd Fenris instantly knew that there was something going on. The mage didn't see him, the elf hoped, his attention focused entirely on his current task – which appeared to be all about glancing nervously at the small door that seemed to be something like an entry for servants. Anders was waiting for someone, Fenris realised, curious. Despite all that angry yelling about Tranquility, the man never mentioned knowing someone from this place (or Fenris wasn't paying attention, which was highly possible). Then the door opened, a templar walked out followed by a man with grey beard, wearing robes indicating he was a mage. They all exchanged few words before the templar disappeared back inside. Even from a distance, the elf could see the excitement on Anders' face.

What followed left Fenris only more confused.

Fenris observed as Anders walked hand in hand with the man. He saw Anders talking about something, gesturing wildly, smiling; the other man seemed unamused, staring blankly at some unspecified point in space.

Then he noticed it. A sunburst symbol on the man's forehead, a stigma of Tranquility. Of course, the man was one for the Tranquil mages. They walked away to a different part of the place, disappearing from the elf's view.

"You wish to speak with me?"

Fenris shook his head, scattering unwanted thoughts, and tuned his attention to Knight–Captain Cullen. The man usually looked like he hasn't slept for at least three nights, but his voice was as politely interested in whatever you had to say as always.

"You asked the Champions for help, and they managed to locate another shipment of illegal lyrium," the elf replied, going straight to the topic.

"I'm sorry you had to wait here. Let's talk in my office." Cullen gestured at the door, and Fenris followed him inside. Other templars glared openly at the tattooed knife ear, eyeing the sword on his back with a certain dose of hostility. He learned to ignore them long time ago; after all ignorance was a bliss, especially in Kirkwall.


Talking to Cullen took him longer than he expected, and by the end of their conversation Fenris wanted nothing else but to go back to his place, drink a bit to soothe his nerves, and hide from the whole world. Interacting with others was exhausting.

"Tell the Champions how grateful I am for their help," said Cullen walking Fenris to the main gate. "I'll inform Knight–Commander Meredith, she will be most pleased."

"Sure," the elf grumbled. He just wanted to get out but the man wouldn't stop talking.

"And please tell them they are most welcome to visit me any time to discuss the matters further. I'm sure Meredith would like to speak to them as well."

She would like to impale them on her sword, especially Marian for being an apostate, Fenris thought.

"Of course," he said instead, forcing himself to sound respectful. "Thank you for your time."

"Have a good day, Messere," Cullen nodded, finally ready to leave.

Suddenly, the templar's expression changed as he stared in confusion at someone, then shook his head and quickly walked away. Without thinking, Fenris followed his gaze. It was, as he soon realised, a grave mistake. Now the elf wished Cullen wouldn't have left and continued his blabbing.

It was Anders, this time alone, apparently done with whatever he had to do in this place. And he was going to the gate, where Fenris was standing. The worst thing was, Anders was glaring right at him, eyes narrowed, lips curled indicating his annoyance and anger he displayed almost every time he and Fenris got into an argument. That happy and carefree person Fenris saw earlier was gone, replaced by the angry mage he knew so well.

The elf's strategy was to avoid the mage; however, Anders walked right to him, giving Fenris no possible way of escaping this situation.

"Visiting your best buddy Cullen? It's nice to personally know certain templars. You can form a mage hating club together!"

And just like that, their usual bickering was back.

Fenris took a deep breath. "Mage. I'm surprised to see you here."

"Why, you don't look surprised. Not anymore. I guess you're done staring at me thinking I wouldn't notice?"

He felt his ears burning red. "I wasn't staring."

Anders snorted. "I should have taken a picture, you've never looked more shocked. You thought I was a ghost or something?"

"Well, you look different."

"Different? You mean that I'm currently wearing clothes that don't scream, I'm an apostate, templars die? I do have a fuck templars t–shirt," he mused.

"I meant, you're wearing clothes that make you look normal, so one could think you really are just an ordinary citizen of Kirkwall," he replied and began walking towards the exit. To his horror, Anders followed.

"You think our conversation is over?" the mage barked, catching up to him. "Just when I heard you make an attempt of a joke? I must inform Varric, he'll mark it in his calendar, Broody elf jokes."

"Ferry leaves in ten minutes," Fenris said hoping the man would magically disappear or at least leave him alone.

"Let's hurry up, then!"

Of course Anders didn't get the suggestion, or he purposely ignored the elf's hostile glare, determined to annoy him even further. Fenris cursed his life, mages, and humanity as a whole again. It certainly wasn't his best day.

Once they were on the ferry, Fenris reminded himself it only takes ten minutes to get to Kirkwall. He could survive ten minutes with a mage. He hoped. Or else Marian and Garrett would kill him for injuring their favourite, albeit often useless, healer.

"So what do you want to know, Fenris?"

Anders spoke in a seemingly casual tone, but the elf could sense his wrath. And it was obviously directed at him.

"Why do you think I want to ask you anything?"

"Because last time I saw you, you looked like you were having a heart attack."

"I was slightly surprised, as I didn't know why you were in that place," he shrugged. "Perhaps you were visiting someone? But that's not my business."

"Of course it's not your business," Anders spat, his eyes glowing with anger. "You don't care about anyone, why would you? You're a heartless bastard."

"Think whatever you want," Fenris replied, getting tired of this conversation, constant arguing every time they met, disagreeing on everything, unable to form any sort of consensus. It felt like the longest ten minutes in his life. "I do not wish to invade anyone's privacy. I shouldn't have asked."

"But you did, so what do you want to know, huh?"

Fenris took a breath and exhaled slowly; why was Anders so agitated? Well, more than usually. It was like the mage could always find a reason to be angry at something, especially when Fenris was around.

"I admit, seeing you in that place took me by surprise."

Anders snorted. "Because I can't go wherever I want?"

"Because," Fenris growled. "I'd rather expect to see you getting dragged to the Gallows in shackles, considering the place is full of Tranquil mages, and your tirades about Meredith's cruelty are endless."

If he thought this would stop the mage, Fenris was gravely mistaken.

"Funny you mentioned Tranquil mages," Anders said in a seemingly casual voice, his honey eyes dark. "You must have seen me with one of them, right?"

"I don't need to know who that man was."

"Oh, so you did see me with a Tranquil, yes?"

Fenris took a deep breath. He was desperately clutching to the calmer part of his personality, which wasn't easy without Marian or Garrett around.

"Yes, I did see you walking with a Tranquil."

"That was Karl," the mage said with a hint of blush on his face.

"All right, that's enough information. No need to tell me your whole damn life story."

"You don't want to hear more, then?" Anders pressed. Fenris could feel the impending headache blooming in his head.

"I didn't and I do not want to."

"Aren't you curious who is he?"

"Not re– "

"He's my husband."

Anders managed, this one time, make Fenris completely silent. The elf opened his mouth, blinked, then frowned as his mind digested this information. He noticed the blush on Anders' face deepening, though there was no sign of embarrassment in his eyes, only cold determination mixed with anger.

From all questions he could have said, Fenris asked this one, "How old were you when..?"

"Young but old enough to know I wanted it."

"You don't wear a ring," the elf glanced at the mage's hands to check, although he was sure he would have noticed such detail. There never had been a ring on Anders' hand, he was certain.

"No, I don't. Our relationship is... complicated. Explaining it to others is rather difficult."

"Yet you're talking about it to me of all people," said Fenris before he could think and stop himself. "I thought it was forbidden for Circle mages to marry."

"It's not technically legal, but it is real for us. We did it before everything went to the void. Before he got transferred, and I was… Before all this mess."

Fenris glanced away, his eyes fixed on the city ahead. He remembered the way Anders looked at that man; now everything made sense. Fenris was embarrassed he didn't realise it himself, because it was painfully obvious the mage loved that Tranquil.

Thoughts in his mind clicked. The reason they couldn't reach Anders was that he was visiting the Gallows. That was his 'private matter'. Fenris wondered if Anders told anyone else; probably not. And he wouldn't if they didn't meet by accident.

"I can't spend all my time there, obviously," Anders continued. He talked more to himself, and Fenris was grateful for that. "Tranquil mages can receive visitors but they can meet with one particular person only once a month. Supposedly it's to prevent creating confusion and putting ideas in their minds," he shook his head.

"You visit him every month?" asked Fenris. Despite his usual views on mages, he found himself interested in this story. It was cruel and unfair, but what wasn't in this damned city.

"Yes, every month. Tranquil mages are allowed outside the Gallows only if they have Meredith's written permission, so we can only walk around that place while templars watch us like wolves."

Fenris hesitated before his next question. He was aware he should stop asking, but one part of him wanted to know. "Aren't you… afraid they'll catch you? You're an apostate…"

"I can't leave Karl there. Especially not now," Anders said. Something changed in his voice, turning anger into deep melancholy, the kind that poisoned one's heart from the inside.

Fenris felt he was not entitled to ask about the explanation.

Anders didn't tell him more, and when they arrived, the mage left without a word, a shadow of the man Fenris saw smiling at the Tranquil named Karl.


A/N2: thank you for reading! Please review, comments are much appreciated!