It had been two days since Anders last saw Fenris, and the mage was beginning to think he had offended the warrior. Somehow. Again. It was something that happened on a daily basis between them. Though usually it involved talking about mage rights.

He didn't think about the elf's behaviour longer than necessary, busy with patients gathering in the only place that could provide any kind of help. Anders clearly remembered how tense Fenris' muscles were under his touch, and how his whole body radiated heat. And lyrium in his markings, Justice stirring at the back of his mind as he worked to ease the pain the tattoos must surely cause. He could only imagine what such amounts of lyrium did to the elf's body.

For once the spirit inside him didn't preach about the injustice, instead switching focus to what he called a 'lyrium song'. The substance could supposedly emit the sweetest sounds. Sometimes Anders believed him. He could swear he heard some distant tune at times, especially when Fenris was around, but it must have been nothing but his mind slowly spiralling into madness.

Professional as he was, he wasn't blind or stupid. Of course Fenris was attractive. Off limits but attractive.

The next day after the elf's visit, he was covered in blood up to his elbows saving lives of both a lady and her newborn twins, surrounded by her weeping husband and his harsh mother. The older woman cursed the Maker so much Anders half expected she would be struck by lightning for this blasphemy. He was exhausted afterwards, having spent all his magic on mending the woman's internal organs and stopping the bleeding to keep her alive. He insisted they all stayed, but the older lady shushed him, ordering him to go to bed and rest like she was his mother.

(of course she wasn't; his mother was far away, possibly dead, and Anders couldn't even remember her face anymore)

The husband wouldn't stop crying, and he thanked Anders for what seemed like an hour. The mother seemed to radiate a divine light, keeping her babies close. Though she claimed she was perfectly fine, Anders advised her to stay in bed for about a week, eat healthy and avoid hard work. She wouldn't listen to his advice, most likely, but he had to tell her all that just like he always did. Having nothing else to offer, the father said he'll pray for him.

It was early morning by the time they left, the older woman forced Anders to bed, covered him with what he had for a blanket, and for a second he thought she really was his mother. He was so exhausted he fell asleep almost instantly. Justice hummed in his mind, thanking for the lives he saved. He didn't lock the door behind them, but luckily not a single person came to the clinic that night.

The next day Hawke visited, barging in like she always did, with a mischievous grin on her pretty face. When she was around, Darktown changed, becoming less miserable.

"And here's my favourite healer!"

Anders wasn't particularly busy, thank the Maker, so he welcomed the company with a smile which could almost hide how tired he was after the previous night.

"Your one and only healer, you wanted to say," he gestured at an empty cot but she waved her hand. She was always in motion, no time for sitting down.

"I have some exciting news!" Hawke said, and began her tale.

Anders didn't have to listen to the whole story, it was usually more or less the same. Something shiny and/or pricey hidden/stolen somewhere around Kirkwall. Fighting with assassins/slavers/monsters highly possible. Hawke very excited. Adventure!

The thing was, even though the prospect of yet another escapade didn't interest him in the slightest, it was difficult to refuse when Hawke was asking.

"Who else is going?" he said despite knowing all possible answers to this question.

It was easy to predict who would be on their team. Varric, most likely. Aveline was currently busy with the guards, putting her job as a priority, tagging along with Hawke only occasionally. It was difficult to tell with Isabela, because one could never predict what the pirate was planning.

Sebastian accompanied them last time, now he was probably in the Chantry praying or whatever, so he was out. Merrill didn't have much else to do, and always came if Hawke asked. That left Fenris, and if Aveline was out, their team needed a warrior which meant the elf was most definitely going as he, too, couldn't say no to Marian Hawke.

"I knew you'd say yes!" She beamed at him. "Varric's still getting us some things, let's meet tomorrow morning at my place. I asked Merrill and Fenris, so it's two humans, two elves, and a dwarf to spice things up!"

Anders nodded. He would recover by tomorrow. He made a mental note to himself to pack the salve to give it to Fenris since the elf might still need it, though he didn't expect anything close to 'thank you'.

They stumbled upon a swarm of giant spiders, because of course they did. At times Anders wondered if that was the essence of adventuring with Hawke – fighting big spiders. He suspected Hawke had some weird spider summoning skills she wasn't aware of. How else could they explain that they had to fight spiders (almost) every time they ventured around Kirkwall?

Fighting wasn't the problem, the aftermath was, especially having spider guts in one's hair. Varric complained loudly about Bianca covered in smelly goo. Merrill looked sick, stepping away from a half burned carcass. Fenris was swearing, blood and other spider fluids all over his body after he cut the biggest one in half (which wasn't the wisest move considering the thing collapsed on top of him). Anders hesitantly touched his head and shuddered when his hand touched something squishy and bloody that was stuck to his hair. He kept his distance, yet he got hit with spider bodyparts, his clothes ruined, his vanity wounded. He had to take a deep breath.

Hawke, on the other hand, was way too cheerful for this situation. Wiping her face with a sleeve of her robe, she announced, "Okay, then, gang! We march forward!"

"I need a moment here..." Varric sighed. "Bianca can't fight for now."

Anders finally managed to get rid of whatever was stuck to his head. He glanced at it for a second before throwing it away with disgust. He didn't know what was it, and frankly he didn't want to know.

"There's a small stream over there," Merrill pointed out. "I feel like I really need a bath."

"Don't worry, Daisy, you don't look half bad. Broody on the other hand…" Varric gestured at Fenris who seemed completely unfazed by layers of blood and gore covering him.

The look on Hawke's face changed drastically when she glanced at the elf. "Uh, yes, I think we all need a quick bath."

Thankfully the stream wasn't far away, and the group reached it in no time, some more than happy at the sight of running water. While Hawke unceremoniously undressed in front of others, stepping in the water with nothing but her underclothes, Anders tried not to stare (but he did, albeit not so openly). Hawke was pretty and he might have some unresolved feelings for her, but that was a different story. He focused his attention on disrobing. He felt dirty. Awfully dirty, and smelly, and he hated those giant spiders more with every passing second.

He took off his coat, placing it neatly on the side to wash off the worst stains. But first he had to take care of the more pressing matter. He let his hair loose, noticing it got longer.

"With such long hair you look like a pretty gal, templars will never find you!" he heard Hawke's laughter.

"You always know what to say, thanks" Anders smiled, brushing hair of his face.

Soon he would be able to wear his hair in a ponytail like he used to. Maybe he should even get an earring, though he was sure Justice wouldn't approve of such needless decorations on his body. What about a lyrium earring, then?

"Now here's something to thank the Maker for!"

Hearing Hawke's voice accompanied by Merrill's "Oh!", Anders turned his head to see what was the source of their reactions. He had to be hallucinating because it was Fenris sans his armour and clothing, wearing only his leggings that didn't leave much room for imagination. The elf walked into the water with a cat–like grace. He wasn't limping, his legs looked perfectly fine (more than fine), so the combination of massage and subtle healing magic must have worked. Now the mage knew that to peel off the elf's clothes, he had to cover him in spider goo. How about that.

It'd been a while since they all met, yet it was the first time they ever saw Fenris out of his armour. And clothes. He sometimes took off his gauntlets when they were playing cards, but most of the time he was completely clothed, exposing no more skin than necessary. Which was a complete opposite of what Isabela usually did, so there was always a balance in their group, one could think.

For a person who was particularly broody, not to mention stubborn, Fenris couldn't be described simply as eye catching or handsome. He was beautiful. His body was a work of art. Even though he hated his markings with burning passion, the way they contrasted with his dark skin could set one's heart aflame. He was all muscles, his lean body strong yet slim.

Anders allowed himself to take one more look, before turning his head away from this distraction. Though he couldn't quite forget seeing the lyrium tattoos going all the way down, a strategic part of them covered by leggings but probably reaching...

That's enough, he barked at himself in his thoughts. Where the hell was Justice, anyway? Usually he was the one reminding his host to stop thinking about distractions. Why he didn't comment on this particular one?

It was a lyrium–marked distraction. Well, of course. Anders let out a sigh.

Varric whistled. "Broody, let me tell you, you could be Kirkwall's most eligible bachelor."

Fenris scoffed. "I don't think that Hightown's nobles would appreciate having me around their daughters."

"I assure you, the daughters would appreciate that a lot!"

"Let's bathe and get back to the task."

"I'm not sure if I want to, honestly this is better than whatever the hell we were doing!" Hawke wiggled her eyebrows.

Tips of his elven ears turned red. Hawke was always flirty with everyone, though she never did anything more serious than that. At times it was shocking how easily she could wrap someone around her little finger. Her companions weren't immune, Fenris included.

Anders returned his attention to his hair, brushing wet strands with his fingers. It seemed the elf didn't need the salve anymore. The less they talked the better; they didn't exchange one word since Fenris left the clinic that time. Anders talked to Varric, Hawke and Merrill, but didn't speak to Fenris. The elf talked to Hawke, Varric, and Merrill if necessary, but otherwise ignored the mage completely. It seemed they reached some sort of status quo, both stubbornly ignoring the other.

Hawke's comments about the elf's physique had no end, which probably meant their break was going to be longer than planned. Anders appreciated it, after all everything was better than dealing with monstrous spiders only to get few coins, an old pair of trousers or a rusty sword. Letting his hair dry in the warm sun, the mage cleaned the stains on his coat. He was doing well ignoring Fenris (and his barely clothed body), though he could vividly remember the pattern of his tattoos. It was all the spirit's fault, Justice liked lyrium so obviously he liked the elf and his stupid markings. Obviously.

"You should get a new coat, I think."

He looked up to see Merrill standing by his side. She was relatively clean compared to others. While the rest of them had to scrub off chunks of spiderflesh and goo, she only washed her face. Anders narrowed his eyes. Was it because the Dalish was a blood mage? Could she remove stains with her blood magic? Intrigued, he vaguely entertained the idea of blood mages performing cleaning services.

"I know I should but sadly I can't afford a new one at the moment."

"If you were more lucky, you could win some coin playing the Wicked Grace. Isabela is teaching me how to play, perhaps she could tutor you as well?"

Anders snorted with laughter. "Perhaps I should ask her."

"Really?" Merrill blinked, her big eyes sparkling with excitement. "Then remember to show her that electricity thing. She asked me if I could do it, but I don't know what spell she had in mind. Is that something they teach human mages in the Circle?"

He almost fell into the stream. "No, it's not something they teach in the Circle," he replied barely containing his laughter. "It's more like a spell of my own design."

"She could teach you to play better, and you could show her that spell."

"Seems like a fair deal," he nodded with a mock serious expression.

"You look nice with your hair like this," she said, giving him one more smile. At times like this, it was easy to forget that Merrill was a powerful blood mage. Her cute smile could fool everyone into thinking she was a harmless, petite elf.

Sensing someone watching him, his eyes caught Fenris observing him just before the elf turned around pretending he wasn't looking at all.

"Broody, put some damn clothes on, Hawke's already used all her pickup lines on you, and you're bloody distracting with all… that," Varric gestured at the elf.

"Damnit, you're right, I got nothing," Marian frowned. "Time to think of new ones!"

"Are we going back to Kirkwall?" Anders asked; he stood up and put on his coat. Merrill was right, he should buy something new, but with his pockets always devoid of coin, he couldn't afford such luxuries like 'new clothing'.

"We aren't done yet!" Hawke pointed out. "There's still treasures to find!"

Anders groaned. It would be a long day...

As he reached to his bag to find something he could use as a hair tie, his hand found a small bottle. It was the salve for Fenris. He glanced at the elf, now fully clothed again (thank the Maker). He could just throw it at him, maybe it would land on his empty head.

Hawke announced they are moving on, and their followed their fearless, sometimes careless, leader to continue the adventure that would hopefully bring them a substantial monetary reward. Two hours later they found a treasure chest with just enough coin to stop their complaining, so it wasn't a day completely wasted.

"I need a drink!" Hawke announced the moment they returned to Kirkwall. The city greeted them with its usual stench. Fenris didn't quite appreciate the way guards looked at him, though being inside Kirkwall's walls was still better than fighting giant spiders.

"Let's go, drinks are on me!"

"You know I can't say now to such generous offer," Varric chuckled.

"You coming, Fenris?"

"Maybe next time," he replied. As much as he liked Hawke, her company was too much at times. He needed some time alone.

"Sure thing. You know where to find me!"

They all said their goodbyes, Hawke and Varric leaving for the Hanged Man, Merrill going back to the Alienage. Anders hesitated, glancing at Hawke. Perhaps he was considering going with the Champion. Fenris didn't care that much to ask. To be honest, all he cared about right now was getting some rest.

"Fenris, wait."

The elf's brows knit. He turned to face Anders who was looking for something in his bag. Just like everything the mage possessed, also his bag was worn out, and probably used to belong to someone else.

"What do you want? I don't have time for your preaching."

"Do you have a busy schedule? Eager to return to the mansion where you can drink until you pass out?"

Fenris gave the mage one long look before turning on the spot to walk away.

"No, wait! That's not what I wanted to say!" Anders reached out to touch the elf's shoulder. Fenris took a step back, glaring at the mage.

"Speak or leave me alone," he said, making sure they keep a distance.

Anders sighed. "I got you the salve you wanted. Listen to your healer and take it. Free of charge, of course."

He produced a small bottle from his bag. Surprised at first, Fenris narrowed his eyes.

"I don't need your pity."

The mage scoffed. "Pity? I don't pity you, you stupid elf. I merely make sure you're in top form so you won't get anyone from our group killed! That you won't get me killed!"

"How thoughtful of you," Fenris spat, making no move to take the offering.

"Listen, I really don't care about you, and I can't stand your blighted attitude, but I'm a healer which means I give a damn about my patients. Stubborn elves included."

Fenris didn't feel like replying; it was exhausting, all these conversations with the mage.

"Take the blighted thing, and you better use it." Before Fenris could move away, Anders grabbed his wrist and put the bottle in his hand. "It's better to apply it after a hot bath, preferably in the evening. I see your muscles don't hurt anymore, but use it just in case. You can injure yourself quite easily if you're careless. And don't wait till the pain is unbearable. Come to the clinic, I'll help your sorry ass."

Angry, partly at the mage, partly at himself, Fenris took a step back, away from Anders who was still holding his wrist.

"How do I know it's not poison?"

Anders stared at him for a longer while, with his mouth open. "You... You can't be serious! You think I'd poison you?!"

"Mages cannot be trusted."

Anders howled. He massaged the bridge of his nose. Fenris hid his smile. It was always so easy to pick on the man.

Anders, on the other hand, didn't appreciate the joke at all. "Is it so hard to admit not all magic is evil? That healers do some actual good despite being Evil Mages?" he said in an angry tone, his eyebrows furrowed. "That my magic helped you? That you enjoyed it?"

"What?" Fenris barked, feeling his blood boil.

"Oh, please! I'm not here to shame you, it was only natural. Don't pretend like you can't understand what I mean, and admit it."

Anders pushed and pushed, and then Fenris snapped.

With a growl, he grabbed the man's coat. He paid no attention to the bottle falling from his hand, and smashing into pieces on the stone near their feet. As Fenris pushed Anders back, the mage yelped in panic. Part of the elf's mind registered how light the mage was.

Ander's back hit the wall, Fenris' gauntlets digging into the fabric of his coat.

"Don't presume you know anything about me," Fenris whispered, his face so close to Anders' face he could see his own reflection in the mage's eyes.

Anders swallowed loudly. "Of course I don't. I can only guess."

Fenris hesitated. He expected a battle, not complete defeat.

"But it would be nice," Anders continued, his honey eyes looking at the elf with unexpected softness. "Knowing something about you, I mean."

That made Fenris even more confused.

"Everyone always presumes that we can only fight with each other," Anders shook his head, his lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I'm… I'm tired, you know? Tired of people claiming they know everything about me. And tired of fighting, with you at least."

The elf kept silent, unable to respond. Deep down within him something stirred impatiently, longing for what he couldn't understand yet.

And that was the day when Fenris made a discovery that surprised him greatly. He did not flinch when Anders put his hand on his chest, a gesture that could be considered intimate if it wasn't for the armour the elf was wearing.

He did not object when Anders moved his hand, so slowly and with so much hesitation in his eyes it was clear the mage didn't exactly know what he was doing.

"May I?" The question hung in the air like a blade ready to strike. Anders' hand on his face was warm, pleasantly warm like always, and Fenris nodded, not quite believing this was actually happening.

He did not move away, at first didn't react at all when Anders closed the distance between them.

But he did return the kiss after a moment when he could finally comprehend what was happening. And then Fernis thought, I think I'm losing my mind.

He was partially right.