None of us are free

It was a few months after Anders had blown up the Chantry. Sebastian had stalked the Wounded coast, looking for the man who had broken his heart and soul; the man who had shared his bed night after night until he had committed a betrayal most foul. Sebastian had spent the first weeks crying, unable to get out of bed, then he had gotten up with the resolution to kill the love of his life. Sebastian had already broken several vows by letting Anders into his bedroom; he might as well get revenge by murder. He had sent word out, wondering if there was anybody who had seen him, and then he had followed any leads that reached him. He had started searching the Wounded coast, looking for any signs of his mage lover. None of the borders around the Free Marches had reported anyone crossing with Anders' descriptions, this made Sebastian believe and hope that Anders was still there, hiding somewhere.

Even though Sebastian had been wanted to see Anders for months, it was still a shock to see the rugged mage suddenly in front of him. Sebastian was overwhelmed by many conflicting emotions. He couldn't help the smile that started reaching his lips, Anders was alive and here. Sebastian wanted to walk forward and take Anders in his arms, hold him and know that he was still alright. That they still loved each other… that they… that they… Rage suddenly filled Sebastian. The man in front of him had killed all that Sebastian held dear. It didn't matter that he was sorry, it didn't matter that he hadn't really wanted to.

The prince lifted his bow and pointed an arrow at Anders' chest.

"Don't come any closer," he said.

Anders stopped dead in his tracks. He had almost been smiling as well, but now he just looked sad.

"Sebastian," he said, his voice thick with tears, "it's me."

"I'm fully aware of that," Sebastian said, "stand still."

Anders dropped his staff to the ground and put his hands up, palms forward.

"What are you going to do, Sebastian?"

"Kill you," Sebastian forced himself to say.

Anders nodded. His eyes carried so much emotion it was making Sebastian's heart ache. The prince was expecting Anders to look scared but instead the mage just looked him calmly.

"Do what you need to."

…

Sebastian was brought back to a night several years ago. Hawke had invited the gang for a friendly card game at the Hanged Man. It had, as usual, led to too much drinking and Hawke pulling both Isabela and Merrill towards Isabela's room, leaving the rest of the gang looking at each other awkwardly. Sebastian silently wondered why Hawke, despite being such an honorable woman, couldn't chose between the women but instead seemed to be in a relationship with the both of them. Aveline and Donnic had left next, and Fenris had left with them, saying he preferred company on the way to high town. Varric had retired as well, leaving the prince and the apostate alone at the table. The bar had almost emptied, except for a few lonely patrons. The fire was warm, creating a golden glow.

"Go ahead," Anders said, "say it."

"What?"

"I saw you looking at me," Anders said, "just say it. You think I'm out of control."

Sebastian looked down quickly. He had been staring. But for once it hadn't been a judging look.

"I wasn't looking at you," he said.

"Don't give me that," Anders said, "I know you've been judging me. How can I claim to speak for mages when I'm half demon myself?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"You're the one who said it," Sebastian said calmly. They had been down this road before, "you seem very angry."

But for once Sebastian was going to try, not just brush off Anders' anger like he always did.

"Did something happen you in the Circle? I understand there were problems in Ferelden?"

This had the opposite effect on Anders.

"Of course," he snapped, "because a mage can only be unhappy in the circle if there are demons involved!" The mage pushed his fist in the table angrily and then he got up and left through the door. Sebastian ignored his better judgment and went after him.

It was cold outside, a winter breeze bringing snow from the Wounded coast and making it flow through the narrow streets. Anders was walking on steady steps away from the Hanged Man. Sebastian caught up with him, Anders threw him a look.

"I don't understand how you can be against it," he said but didn't stop walking, "I fight for the freedom for every man, woman and child in Thedas. We should be on the same side."

They kept walking through the cold alleys.

"No one is free," Sebastian said, "you were given to the Circle. I was given to the Chantry. Hawke belongs to Kirkwall. Merrill is a slave to the Eluvian. Isabela is a captive to the lifestyle she's chosen and I don't think I need to say anything about Fenris." They had arrived at the little shack on the border between Low town and Dark town that Anders lived in.

Anders smirked, his tiredness making his old self come out.

"So only Aveline is free?"

"Aveline is as much a free woman as one can be," Sebastian said, admiration clear in his voice.

A particular cold wind swirled past them, causing Sebastian to shiver. Anders noticed.

"Do you want to come in for a little bit?" The mage asked. Sebastian raised one of his eyebrows.

"Well," Anders continued, "we are friends, despite our differences. It doesn't feel right making you walk all the way home in this weather."

Sebastian chuckled.

"Fair enough, fair enough," the prince said, "I'll come in for a bit."

As one might expect, Anders' one room was messy and covered in papers.

"Your manifesto, I assume," Sebastian said and picked up one of the papers, "don't you ever get tired of your futile fight?"

"Says the man who has spent all the years I've known him trying to revenge his family and never managing."

"I will manage," Sebastian said, "but this thing you talk about," he held up one of the papers, "a tranquil solution? You don't actually think it will happen, right? The Chantry would never follow through with such a thing."

"I think they would," Anders said darkly, he seemed angry again, "how can you keep standing up for her?"

"Her?" Sebastian said confused, "Andraste?" Anders rolled his eyes.

"No, not Andraste," he replied, "that doddering old biddy of a Grand Cleric." The pleasant atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. Sebastian couldn't believe that Anders had actually said that.

"How dare you! Elthina is everything a grand cleric should be! She's holy, wise…"

"Spineless," Anders interrupted, "hesitant… if doing nothing sums up your religion then, yes, Elthina is perfect."

Sebastian went forward until he stood face to face with Anders.

"If it is action you want," he said, indulging in anger he rarely let himself feel, "you can have it." He took hold of Anders shoulders and pushed him into the wall.

"Well," Anders said, his eyes pulsing blue, "what are you going to do?"

Sebastian's breath was harsh, his anger bubbling under the surface. Part of him wanted to draw back a fist and punch the mage bloody, but another part of him couldn't help but notice how close Anders was, and how nice he was smelling. He felt his anger run off of him like rain water. That was when Anders suddenly broke free of his grip and pressed his lips against the prince's.

"You're driving me mad," Anders said when Sebastian released him and they parted, equally breathless. Sebastian's heart was hammering in his chest; he didn't understand what had happened.

"What…" he said but didn't get further before Anders collided with him, pressing their bodies and lips together. Sebastian didn't even have a chance to think before his body was reacting. He moaned and felt goosebumps forming down his spine when Anders panted into their kiss. Sebastian had enough presence to realize that this was wrong and that he should stop it but he felt to his amazement that he didn't want to. Anders felt right. It felt perfectly natural for Sebastian to keep kissing him. And then it wasn't enough. Sebastian broke his kiss but found it difficult to get his words out since Anders hadn't released him but instead started kissing down his neck and nipping at his chin.

"Bed," Sebastian managed to say, even if his entire word was one long sigh. Anders met his eyes then and smiled. He looked almost relieved. There were no talks about rules or regulations or talk of apostates. There was just Anders and Sebastian.

…

When the first strands of sunlight crawled over their blanket, Anders leaned his sweaty head on Sebastian's shoulder. The prince leaned down and kissed his damp forehead.

"How can you have so much faith?" the mage asked as he brought Sebastian's hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles tenderly, "does nothing bother you?"

Sebastian chuckled.

"You bother me."

Anders swatted his stomach playfully.

…

There was nothing left now. It was just a memory. The prince looked at the apostate. Anders looked tired, beaten and given up. He had only had one goal. On some level Sebastian could even understand it. It didn't matter. Sebastian still remembered the destruction of the Chantry. The flames. The shockwave. The screams. He looked at Anders again. The mage had said that there could be no compromise. No, Sebastian thought, there can be no compromise. There can be no forgiveness.

"Do what you need to," Anders said again. He understood. Sebastian lifted his bow and fired.