Once again! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and put this story on their alerts!
I hope everyone is enjoying reading this as I have been writing it.
Marian placed the freshly rolled bandage into the basket at her feet. As she reached for another from the pile on the table next to her she sighed. Her fingers worked to roll the material into a compact bundle while her mind drifted.
It had been a month since Anders had moved in with her and Marian was bored out of her mind. She had taken to coming with Anders to the clinic during the day for something to keep her mind occupied. She had lasted all of a week in her house before she went stir crazy. The years of adventure had taken their toll in unexpected ways. She was her father's daughter and idleness wasn't in their nature. One of her friends had to come with her whenever she left the house to prevent any trouble she might get into. Varric had put it best when he told her that she didn't seem to understand what the word 'no' meant. So many people wanted her help and input as the Champion of Kirkwall. It was help she could no longer afford to give. Her friends had become adapt at deflecting when someone approached her and it made Marian want to scream. She couldn't stay in her house for months on end, but neither could she risk going out in public. Varric had even taken to collecting her unopened mail for her. She trusted him to go through the missives and write the correct things. It was a skill she wished that she had learned long ago, instead of rushing off to help someone with their problem the moment she finished reading the last sentence of a letter.
Everyone wanted a piece of the Champion. Marian couldn't be what they needed right now... if ever again.
It had been Anders' suggestion to come help him at the clinic. Marian's lips twisted in a wry smile as she reached for another piece of linen. She wasn't a healer the way Anders was, her magic didn't manifest that way. She was grateful to him for the distraction and a place to hide from the nobles of Kirkwall, but she had discovered that rolling bandages was only slightly less mind numbing than sitting in her house.
Until Fenris showed up.
The elf had come four days ago to the clinic and didn't seem ready to leave anytime soon. Anders choose to ignore him when it seemed that Fenris wasn't going to budge from his place on a pile of crates near the clinic door. He was there when they arrived in the morning and he followed them back to Hightown at night. In a quiet voice that brooked no argument, he told Marian he was there to keep her safe. She snorted at the memory. As if she was made out of glass now. All of her friends treated her like this. While it was touching they all worried for her and her safety, she couldn't help but be agitated. It was as if the past few years hadn't happened and none of them remembered the fights they had been in together, the places and things they had seen. She had found a strength in Kirkwall and now she felt being pregnant had stripped that from her.
Bile bubbled in her throat and she sat very still while breathing shallowly. She was grateful for them all and what they were doing for her. But she was only two months pregnant and still hadn't completely come to terms with it yet. Marian had never thought she would be a mother. It was something for other women. It was something for the kind of woman her mother had always wanted her to be. It wasn't that she had never wanted to be one, she had just assumed it would never be her. The life that she lived wasn't conducive for being pregnant, let alone raising a child. The game Anders and her were playing was proof of that.
She felt a twinge of guilt and looked over at him. He had his back turned to her, bent over a nasty gash in a woman's leg. He worked too hard and it was starting to kill him. Marian could see it in his too pale skin and the way his clothes were starting to hang on him. He was at the clinic every day and sometimes well into the night. When he wasn't here he was working with the mage underground. He refused to tell her anything about it beyond what little she already knew. It pained her not to help when he was doing so much for her.
No one mentioned Fenris' attack on Anders at the Hanged Man. Maybe it was because everyone had been waiting years for just such a confrontation. At least, Marian hoped that was what it was. Anders refused to talk about it beyond flashing her a smile that didn't reach his eyes-something she was seeing more and more often-and telling her that it was nothing more than what he had expected.
Maker... She had expected more of their friends.
She glanced at Fenris out of the corner of her eyes. He sat with his greatsword between his knees, his claw tipped gauntlets wrapped around the hilt. He wasn't fooling anyone and she wondered how long this was going to go on before one of them said something. He was there to make sure Anders didn't step out of line. It wasn't for her sake, not the way he thought it was. The tension between Anders and Fenris had been ratcheting up since the first morning they had found him waiting for them at the door to the clinic.
This was a mistake, she thought. I shouldn't have brought Anders into this. She knew what this was doing to him. For so long Fenris seemed resigned to Anders place in their little group. He kept silent for the most part, confining his comments to well placed glares sent the mage's way. Now he was using Marian as an excuse for free reign in his treatment of Anders.
She hated it.
But she had no choice.
She still hadn't told Carver about her condition. She didn't want to step foot in the Gallows for fear she would see him. She was afraid to write to her brother on the off chance he told her child's father of her pregnancy and he put two and two together.
Barely a month in and Marian was already feeling her house of cards shuddering under its own weight. She hadn't thought this through as well as she had hoped. But now she was committed, and when Marian Hawke committed, she didn't back down.
Anders finished healing the gash in the woman's leg. She didn't say so, but he was sure it was from a knife, the edges looked too clean and the wound too deep. He no longer cared to find out why his patients came to him. At first he had driven he and Justice crazy while he attempted to single handily right all of Darktown's wrongs. It was a losing fight and one he had to close his eyes to. He wiped the blood off his hands in a bowl of dingy water next to him as the woman slipped out, a muttered thanks on her lips. Thank the Maker. She was the last of the day.
He stared down at the bowl of water, lingering over its murky depths. He could feel Fenris' eyes on him, boring into Anders' back. Anders gritted his teeth. Andraste's tits! It was like being back in the fucking circle. Was this his life? Was someone with a greatsword over his neck always to be there? He took a deep breath and flicked his eyes over to Marian. Her face had changed to a slightly greenish cast and she held herself so still, Anders wasn't sure if she was breathing.
"Marian?" He turned towards her and she held up her hand.
"I'm fine. I-" She gagged and stood up, slapping a hand over her mouth and knocking over the basket of rolled bandages. "Excu-" She gagged again and ran towards the back of the clinic. Anders winced when he heard a door slam shut and the sound of vomiting echoed out.
"You've poisoned her, mage." Anders whirled around to face Fenris. The elf had extinguished the lamp and shut the door to the clinic, preventing anymore patients from trickling in.
Anders crossed his arms and gave Fenris a mocking smile. "If you think that, then I worry for any woman you get pregnant. Do you need to tell me how babies are made? You see when a mommy elf and a daddy elf love each other very much..." Fenris growled as he strode towards Anders, his sword slung over one shoulder.
Anders hated it when Fenris did that. It did something to him to see all that dangerous power strolling towards him, lethal lines rolling with a swordsman's grace. Anders knew it said something sick about himself, but he didn't dare delve into what.
"Is that what happened with you and Hawke?" Fenris asked. "You loved each other so much that you ignored all of your healer training about basic contraception?" Anders didn't like the look in Fenris' eyes. He took a step back, which was a mistake. One didn't show hesitation like that to someone like Fenris. Anders had seen him strike off the heads of men who hesitated.
"You know how it is," Anders smiled, pulling himself upright. "You're in the moment and all good sense goes out the window. I've loved her for so long and she finally returned my feelings." He shrugged.
Fenris raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he drawled. "Tell me about it then? This magical night. None of us knew the two of you had even been together."
If Anders was good at anything-besides running-it was lying. He had learned the art at a young age and hadn't stopped yet. "We didn't know where it was going and didn't want everyone prying. Not that it's any of your business." He turned and picked up the bowl he used to wash his hands. Fenris grabbed Anders by the shoulder and swung him back around. Anders dropped the bowl, the water splashing at their feet.
"It's our business now, isn't it?" Fenris asked, his voice silk over steel. "Marian can't go out without one of us with her. She's trapped in her house or this," he gestured around him, "clinic."
Anders felt himself snap. "Why are you here, Fenris? And don't give me the bullshit you gave us four days ago." Fenris tightened his grip on Anders' shoulder, crushing the feathers on his coat.
"Don't play the fool with me, mage. You know why I'm here." He pulled in close, just like he had at the Hanged Man. This time, there wasn't the agony of his hand on Anders' heart and the mage fought not to shiver as the elf's breath whispered over his skin.
"I'm not leaving," Anders said. He was proud of himself that his voice remained so steady. "So you can fuck off."
Fenris chuckled, the sound as far from pleasant as it could get. "I don't think so. You see, I know you and Marian are up to something. If I know it, then the others will know it soon enough, as well. I've spent the past four days watching the two of you." White hair brushed against Anders' jaw, some of the strands catching on his stubble as the elf leaned in close. "Both of you are concealing something," he whispered, his tone caressing Anders' like a lover. The sound moved down the mage's spine, lodging in his cock and he shivered despite himself. Maker, Anders could listen to Fenris talk all day.
Well if he's not berating me, Anders thought. That I could do without. Many of Anders' prominent fantasies had featured that voice, whispering in Anders' ear as the elf took him roughly, telling Anders how good he felt, urging the mage to beg him for more.
And how I would beg him. The thought slipped across Anders' mind and felt felt Justice's disapproval. Justice was the only reason that Anders knew that Fenris wasn't here to hurt him, only threaten. If the spirit had thought Anders was in any real danger, he would have felt him trying to assert himself before now.
Something had changed in Anders. Fenris frowned, his lips brushing the mage's ear. There! It was an imperceptible shiver, a faint stiffening of Anders' shoulder under his hand. Fenris froze and pulled back slowly. He watched as the mage's throat worked while he swallowed. Fenris abruptly released Anders and took a step back, mimicking the mage's hesitation from earlier.
"Mage," his voice a warning growl. "Wh-" A door behind Anders creaked open, and Hawke's voice cut off anything that Fenris could say. "Maker I will be glad when the sickness part is over!"
Anders almost sagged in his relief when he felt Marian slip an arm around his waist. He turned to her, his eyes almost wild. "Feeling better?" Then, without letting her answer, "Right! Let's go home."
Marian sensed the tension in the room and she allowed Anders to lead her to the door and out into Darktown. She also didn't like the way Fenris was looking at him, like the elf just found a new puzzle he couldn't seem to reconcile with what he was seeing.
Does he know? Marian thought. She fought to close her eyes against the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling deepened when Fenris, for the first time in four nights, declined to walk with them back to Hightown.
Fenris watched them both walk away, his hands clenched into fists.