Title: Unexpected

Beta: OhSlashy

Fenris left in a huff. He'd almost allowed himself to feel something but disgust for the blond abomination. Almost. He clenched his fist and, after closing the door behind him, ran out of Darktown. Once he was a safe distance from the rat-infested clinic that had the longhaired Mage with his long, thin fingers, full lips and piercing brown eyes, Fenris walked to an alley and punched it. Had he really said he liked the abominations hair?

He felt a shudder run through his now shaking body as he leaned back on the wall of a building and sighed. Frustrated, he punched the wall again and again, his mind concentrating on the pain and not on his need to go back down the steps and into Darktown to claim the Mage, as much as he wanted to.

"I-I like his hair?" the elf asked himself incredulously. "I like his hair?"

~.~

They were on their way to the Wounded Coast when Anders decided to hum. Nothing special, just a song his mother had once sung to him, or a song she would've sung to him if he hadn't been ripped away from her arms. He hummed as he followed Hawke and Isabela, who were deep in conversation with Fenris behind him. Hawke and Isabela moved up as he started to sing along, leaving him and the elf behind. Anders didn't mind; the elf hadn't bothered him in a while.

He must be planning something.

Now, Justice, Anders thought back, just because the mean, scary glow-y elf has finally warmed up to us does not mean he is up to something.

He is up to something, mage, I can feel it, the spirit replied adamantly. Anders tried not to sigh outwardly for it would've interrupted his beautiful humming as they continued on their path to the Wounded Coast for a job he didn't even know the details of. It was always like this, him running around with Hawke blindly, having to heal the dammed mage because he refused to learn the healing arts.

"Dammed Mage," he muttered to himself.

"What?" Came a voice not so far behind him. "Are you talking to yourself, again, abomination?"

"When was I talking to myself?" Anders said slowing down enough to speak to the elf. "I have never talked to myself before, have I?"

"If you have to ask," Fenris replied, his eyes set forward.

Anders swallowed, waiting for the ball that had formed in his throat to disappear. When Fenris said nothing Anders took the ribbon from his hair and sighed dramatically.

"I'm going to cut my hair," he said to himself. "It's too long and Justice says that if it grows any longer it will get caught in my stave."

I said no such-

"What do you think?" Anders asked turning to the elf whose eyes had narrowed but not faltered.

"Do as you will," the elf replied stiffly, "It is not my business."

"I was asking for an opinion," Anders said. "I cannot see my back and can only estimate how truly long my hair is. You, on the other hand, can see how long it is."

Anders stopped and looked at the elf expectantly. He hadn't expected the elf to actually turn and look. He had to supress a smile as the elf stilled, turned and, his lips set in a line, looked at Anders' back. He felt a hand, a lyrium covered hand, hover above his coat. The lyrium called out to him and he had to try hard not to shudder as it hummed a familiar tune. How could something so beautiful come from such a horrid act, Anders wondered.

He feels good. The lyrium ghost would be useful if we were to convert him to our cause.

Yes, Anders mentally replied, because we want a mage-hating elf to help our cause to free mages.