Yes, so uh. I never write chapter fic lolz. I'm also NOTORIOUSLY BAD about not finishing them, but this one was for a prompt on the kinkmeme:

Young Anders/Fenris

Even though the timing and location makes NO SENSE, young Fenris and young Anders are on the run from their masters, and end up hiding together.

Obviously, they have sex before parting ways. No hatesex, please. They don't know who each other are, and Fenris (maybe still "Leto") doesn't have a deep hatred of mages just yet. I just want to see Fenris and Anders bond, which would be otherwise impossible!

Thusly, this story was born. We'll see how it goes, hurrp. I figure our guys are sixteen or so? Ish? I'm not used to doing any sort of prose in past tense so bear with me.

DAYS LIKE THESE

The rocks on the side of the Imperial Highway dug sharply into his bare feet.

Leto had been running for at least an hour, his heart beating out of his chest in sheer terror. All it would take was one magister on the road to spot him and report him to the authorities, and he'd be someone's next blood sacrifice. All he wanted was to get away, to get some food. Was that so much to ask?

He sprinted out into the hot sand of Minrathous' coastline, the soles of his feet burning from the sun-scorched surface. Desperate, he glanced around for somewhere to hide. He couldn't go on any longer, not without a rest. The only shelter in sight was a craggly ruin on a cliffside, broken but still with an intact roof. Leto thanked Andraste for his luck and gave it a final rush, eager to get out of sight.

The afternoon light streamed in through the cracked walls, illuminating the rubble and debris inside. It would have to do, he supposed. Where else could he go?

Leto stepped cautiously into the building - or what was left of it - and allowed himself to sink to the floor. Eyes closed, he struggled to catch his breath, his lungs desperate for air. He didn't know how long he laid there, trying to think about anything but the hollow pain in his stomach.

It wasn't until he heard the faint sound of footsteps on the sand that he even realized he'd fallen asleep. With nothing but a paring knife to defend himself, Leto braced himself to attack the intruder quickly and then bolt for it. He knew better: fight or flight was hardly a difficult decision when you'd had nothing to eat for days.

A teenage boy entered the building, his face bloodied and bruised, and Leto hesitated for a moment too long. He saw in his expression the same overwhelming despair that haunted his nightmares.

It was just enough time for Anders to notice him and get the first strike.

"Who are you?" he demanded, eyes wide with fear. "Why are you here?"

Leto pressed his back against the crumbling wall and held out the knife in front of himself, a pathetic excuse of a weapon, but the only means of defense he had. "I don't want to fight you, but I will," he countered, ignoring the question. He hoped the other boy found him more intimidating than he felt.

Anders narrowed his eyes and raised a hand, flames dancing at his fingertips. "Get out of here, and I won't have to hurt you."

Leto balked, scrambling to get away, his arm fully extended to keep the knife between himself and Anders.

"Y-You're a mage!" he stammered, terrified for his life.

Anders scoffed. "You think?" He let the fire subside and crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want with my hideout, anyway?"

Leto stared past him, trying to gauge whether he'd be able to escape if he ran for the door now. Didn't seem likely.

"Nobody was here when I found it," he countered, gradually rising to his feet. "I wasn't expecting a magister to be playing hide and seek here."

Scowling, Anders turned away. "I'm not playing!" he insisted. "And I'm... I'm not a magister, either."

That was unexpected. "So you shoot fireballs just for fun, then?"

Anders shook his head. "Shut up! You don't understand what it took to get away from them."

He had decided that the elf didn't pose much of a threat, and began to shuffle around with a small pile of junk in the corner of the building. There wasn't much, and definitely nothing of considerable value. Leto doubted it would be worth the effort to pawn it if he stole something while the mage wasn't looking.

They'd apparently reached some sort of unspoken truce, and Leto stowed his knife in his belt. He needed a better place to put it, somewhere that wouldn't accidentally gouge his thigh if he moved the wrong way.

Leto peered around the corner, glancing out at the abandoned shore, pleased to see that it was still empty. "So you're a mage, but not a magister," he said, unable to hide his confusion and mild amusement. "Why not?"

Anders' shoulders tensed, but he didn't turn around, and continued to sort his meager belongings. "I can't do blood magic."

Leto raised an eyebrow, but the mage couldn't see it. "You... can't do blood magic."

"Yes, I know. Go ahead and tell me how pathetic I am. I've never heard that one before."

Leto said nothing. There were very few mages in Tevinter who didn't practice the so-called forbidden arts, and avoiding them was rarely by choice. To meet a mage who wasn't already using his powers to control the minds of his enemies was... strange, to say the least.

"I can't do it," he continued, despite the lack of response, "So my mentor was going to sell me off to someone else, make me a slave. I wasn't good enough as an apprentice." He pressed his lips into a thin line. "I ran away before he could find anyone with the gold to buy me."

That was equally unexpected. Leto turned to look at Anders, genuinely surprised. "You were going to be a slave?"

Anders shot him a look. "Did I stutter?"

Leto shook his head. "It's not that. I'm a slave, too. Or... I was." He stared down at his bare feet, grains of sand embedded beneath his toenails. "My master gave my mother and sister to a friend in Nevarra as a gift. I won't stay without them."

He kicked at a loose piece of rubble. "I'm going to find them."

Anders chewed his lip. The chances of this boy finding his family were slim at best. To find them alive and unharmed was even more unlikely.

"Yes, well... good luck with that."

He finished collecting his things into a small satchel and slung it over his shoulder. What followed was a simple wooden staff that had been propped against the corner of the ruin. It was worn down, and several of its decorative stones were missing from their sockets.

Without another word, he stepped out of the building and left Leto standing there, alone.

"Wait!" he called, immediately regretting that he'd raised his voice. He couldn't afford for anyone to find him - elves wandering by themselves were easy targets, and instantly profiled as escaped slaves, true or not. "Where are you going?"

Anders looked at him over his shoulder, quizzically. "Away? Anywhere. I don't care."

Leto hesitantly followed him, wincing as the hot sand burned his feet. "Can I come with you?"

Anders tilted his head. "Why?"

Leto glanced off into the distance, as if he was intensely interested in the horizon. "I thought that since you don't have anywhere to go, maybe you'd help me track down my family."

Anders rolled his eyes. "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

Leto shot him a look. Was the mage truly that naïve? "So you won't be a moving target," he clarified. "So there's somebody to make sure no one kills you in your sleep. Because I can fight. And," he added, reaching into his pocket, and holding a gold coin aloft. "Because I stole this."

Anders gaped. "Where did you...?"

Leto pulled the coin back and extended his free hand. "Deal?"

Anders eyed the coin hungrily, and took the elf's hand. "Deal."

Leto smiled. "Let's go, then."