Part four of the Breadsticks AU (here on AO3: archiveofourown series/301065).
The previous fic in the series, part three, can be read here: www . fanfiction s/11436561/1/Candy-Bar
...
When youg, Anders had been... quite a whore.
A mage not above selling his abilities to the sex business (he wasn't cheap either, mind you), always falling into bed at some place and waking up at another, pockets full of cash, skin covered in someone else's make-up and leaving a trail of happy lovers behind that would remember him in the days to come.
That kind of lifestyle made a morning person out of him, having to run before the first rays of sun showed up. Still, if asked Anders would say it was a good life, constantly high on adrenaline and gaining easy money to get a safe place for both Karl and himself. Settling down becoming less of a dream and more of a reality.
…
"C'mon Karl! Just this once. I promise you we'll be back before sunrise and no one will know!"
"They already have you on constant watch, Anders! I can't let you go through this".
"Yes you will! This is for us, for what we deserve!"
"This is getting out of hand".
"It got out of hand way before, when we started lov-"
"Don't. Just don't. Stop that and stop with your promises".
"... I've given you everything I promised you".
"And look where that got you! They took you to solitary for almost a year, Anders... Anders. Where are you going?"
"If you're not coming with me, then I still have work to do".
…
And so he lived, never sleeping in the same bed twice and always waking up alone with a smile on his face. Anders was getting there no matter the cost. For them both.
Until Karl got sick and there was no one else to pay for his treatments.
It had been fine at first, Anders had saved enough to cover what Karl's insurance wouldn't for the first year. When Karl got better everything would be fine. Anders even managed to get a scholarship in Healing thanks to crashing with the Wardens. Healing turned out to come naturally to him and the Warden status kept the Templars away; for a while he believed himself capable of fixing their lives.
Anders graduated at the top of his class and at that point Karl felt good enough to go with him to the celebration and met those he considered his family. He clashed with Justice almost instantly, both of them with very different opinions on Anders' development.
…
"With his abilities, he ought to do more for those of his kind".
"He's done more than enough by working for you all".
"There are those in bigger need that we cannot reach. But he can and he does not".
"And that's why he should?! What good had the world done to him?"
"What good will you be to Anders by sheltering him like that, Thekla?"
…
Karl didn't get better. Karl wasn't going to get better. No amount of magic did more than slow the process. At that very moment, Anders realized he was useless when it really mattered. Unable to fulfill the important promises, bringing Templars and problems to Cousland's door (and making Velanna go into hiding for a while too).
Anders ran once again. This time, Justice trailing behind (you left your cat, you left your earring, you left me), a fact he would be grateful for later, as Templars caught up to them and gave the mage a real reason to be pursued. Hunted like the beast he was turning into.
He would never hate anyone as much as he hated himself.
Two of his closest friends, Sigrun and Nathaniel (oh, howe fond he was of that man), covered for them both while he burned the bodies like an enthusiastic Sigrun suggested. Cousland himself started the rumor of Anders and Justice's deaths, funeral and all.
Karl, oblivious, believed it to be true for some time and got transferred to another hospital. Far away in the Free Marches. Kirkwall. When Anders showed up, he was anything but happy.
…
"Why did you go so far?"
"Couldn't stay in Ferelden, I saw you everywhere and kept thinking that it couldn't be true, that it wasn't fair for you to die before I did".
"Karl..."
"Don't "Karl" me with those puppy eyes, it's true. I don't have much time left".
"I just... I just can't accept they way you're so... so tranquil about all of this. Everyday I feel like I'm about to crumble".
"Keep taking care of yourself like you've doing as of late and you are going to crumble. Are you even trying to live anymore?"
"Would a life without you be a life worth living?"
"Will you marry me?"
"... Excuse me?"
"Will you marry me?"
...
Of course Anders said yes. And of course there was no wedding. There never would be a wedding. Everyone and their dog knew the proposal was Karl's way of giving Anders a reason to take care of himself (are you going to let any photographer take our pictures with you looking like that?). Still, even Justice helped keep up the charade.
Anders had everything planned, from the napkins to the name of their kids. And by kids he meant cats. Lots and lots of cats. He spent his days working at a free clinic he opened with Justice and his nights awake telling Karl all his plans and checking wedding catalogs and do you think we could get Oghren to wear bows on his beard? Rest being an alien concept for him.
The smile Anders wore daily never reached his eyes but he was trying and he would keep trying like he'd been doing all his life. The world would keep spinning just like he would keep going.
And the world kept spinning even after Karl died.
The only people present at Karl's funeral where the dwarf he'd worked for sometimes, Varric, Justice and himself for Anders told no one else. Even Varric knowing had been a slip on his part.
Life went on.
People moved on.
And he couldn't give a damn about it all.
Running from everything seemed like the most logical course of action, there wasn't much to pack nor much reason to stay (alive).
…
"Stop packing".
"No".
"We must stay and help".
"No".
"It is our duty".
"Fuck duties. Fuck people. Fuck the Chantry. Fuck the Maker. And fuck you".
"But not this cat?"
"Fuck the... Cat?"
"The one the dwarven storyteller gave us".
…
Varric Thethras took care of his friends and it made Anders feel worse because he didn't deserve to be considered one of those. Justice and Ser Pounce-A-Lot needed him, though, and so did many people.
Anders resumed his old way of running but instead of giving himself to the pleasure of the flesh, he gave his magic and his strength to the sick and needed. One miracle for every tear he should have shed for Karl.
That was how he met Garret Hawke.
A new friend of Varric looking for a better life on Kirkwall like so many did and failed. Almost no coin to his name and a dying brother at his back. The kid, Carver, was in a sorry state and only the very best and expensive healing the Circle had to offer could give him the littlest chance. That or Anders.
And did he deliver. A week under his care and "Junior" was up and complaining like Garret, crying like a big bearded baby, said he did every day of every week. Little by little Anders was introduced to the rest of the band of misfits Hawke and Varric formed, surprised to see Isabela with them and no I won't repeat that trick no matter how fun that night was.
The Clinic and Justice, Pounce and his writings, his friends and some drinks. Things that made the days go by and his life seem almost normal, never giving him a moment to stop and breathe and live and just be.
What was life without K–
Fingers combed through his hair.
Morning rays peeking between the curtains of his room.
A humming chest under his cheek.
A body resting under his own.
The smell of wine in his nose and the taste on his lips.
Pounce purring in the distance and Justice making coffee.
Inhale, then exhale.
Fenris.
Life stopped.
"I know you are awake, mage".
Anders felt every word vibrate through his body. Those vibrations kept going until he realized they were coming from him, laugh bubbling its way out from throat to the world loudly. He laughed and laughed until tears started running down his face and yet he kept laughing, trembling in Fenris arms.
The elf, alarmed, sat them both up and the fact they were both naked crossed Anders mind for a second alongside a stride of fleeting and random thoughts. Were Fenris' eyes really that big? And so green? Maker, did his rear hurt and Maker was this a good kind of pain to feel in the morning. Was Justice making their daily coffee? Ser Pounce-A-Lot needs a new toy and Fenris stop screaming so early I can hear you but if you don't shut up I can't tell you that
"I love you".
Saying it felt even more natural than breathing and yet Anders himself was surprised by his own words. They looked at each other and then at the door, Justice standing there with two cups of coffee and Pounce at his feet. For Anders, the earth continued to be still even after Justice spoke.
"Take the day off".
Leaving the couple of steaming cups on Anders' desk, he left the room closing the door. Exasperation filled every pore of Fenris' body and any word that came out of him.
"Venhedis Mage, what is wrong with you today?"
Anders pounced at the elf, closing his arm around the lithe neck and making them fall on the bed again. A rain of kisses poured upon Fenris cheeks, chin, brow, his entire face, while he complained halfheartedly and flailed arms and legs trying to take the other man off him and making a mess with the sheets. A kiss for every silent understanding, a kiss for every fight and for every smile, a kiss for every engaging discussion at 3 AM and a kiss for every lunch Fenris brought him at the clinic because he always forgot, a kiss for all the scratches Pounce had left on him and for the way he called Anders his foolish mage.
A kiss for that one time they raided Garret's kitchen and a kiss for the wet breadstick he set on fire. And a last kiss for all the kisses that would come after.
When Anders finally stopped, his face still wet with tears and carrying a smile form ear to ear shone brighter than the sun.
"I love you".
"And I you, you fool. Is there something wrong?"
"Not at all, everything feels just right".
The more he let himself get lost into Fenris eyes, the more he wondered if the elf were a mage and had a spell to control the way the world moved. Or didn't move.