By the time they made it to the boat, Fenris was ready to kill Zevran.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what the assassin had done to help; indeed, he was under no illusions that he could have gotten to Anders without the other elf's help. He was excellent at being sneaky, knew how to pass by the guards without drawing attention to them, and he was deadly with his blades.

But that didn't give him permission to ogle his mage, or make salacious comments.

"They are always so adorable when they're cuddly, yes? I'm not sure if it's a Warden thing or a mage thing, but it is amusing. My Warden is just so sweet when she's had a long day of work, and she hogs the blankets-"

…well, maybe not completely salacious, but he still had no business making those comments-at least not within earshot of Fenris.

"Come, my broody friend," Zevran called, motioning to the waiting ship. "I have a good friend onboard who can take care of our injured mage. Come, come!"

His 'good friend' turned out to be an older mage who, despite being advanced in age and looking very tired, took in Anders' appearance with clear and intelligent eyes.

"Follow me," she said crisply. "Zevran, would you be kind enough to let the captain know we're ready to set sail?"

"Anything for you, my dear Wynne," Zevran said with a flourish and a bow. The elder mage didn't even blink at his display. "Go on, you cad," she shooed.

After he had dashed off, she motioned for Fenris to follow her, and led the way down some stairs into the hold of the ship.

Fenris watched her closely, not quite willing to trust her. Mages, despite what Anders had showed him, were dangerous – especially ones of unknown quality. After what had happened here, in this city, Fenris was not going to leave anything to chance and risk his mage again.

"As you may have guessed, my name is Wynne," the woman said, ushering him into a small windowless room with only a bed and a chair. "I'm a mage from the Fereldan Circle. When I was…a bit younger," she smiled wryly. "I taught Anders. He was one of my better, if more mischievous, students."

"You taught him the healing arts?" Fenris asked, surprised. He gently set the unconscious mage down, eyes never leaving Wynne.

"He was a natural, and one of the few that took real joy in mending what was once broken." She looked down at the man in question, smiling sadly as she took in his state. "If you leave him with me, I will look after him."

"I will stay," he said quickly.

"You don't trust mages, do you?" she said, yet he didn't detect any bitterness in her voice; just sad acceptance.

He held out a bare arm, the scars coming into relief under the lamplight. "Would you, if this is what had been done to you, among other things?"

"No, I wouldn't," she said, surprising him. "But…I can see you are starting to realize that all mages are not so bad," she added, smiling at his surprised look. "I'm old, elf, but I'm not blind…yet."

"You see much, then," he replied wryly.

"Sit," she urged him, pointing at the chair. "We're in for a long vigil."

Fenris had never been much for the healing arts; he knew enough to stem his own lifeblood until he could retreat to someplace quiet and either wait it out, or seek out a healer, or more recently, Anders. He knew the body functioned together as a whole, but he could not tell anyone what various parts of the body did by itself, save for a few important exceptions. He, overall, knew little of healing; he was much more used to slaughtering and wounding, not saving and mending.

Watching Wynne work reinforced this; she muttered things under her breath, medical speak that made Fenris feel even more alienated than before. He watched her closely when her hands started to glow that all-too-familiar blue color, and when she started moving them over Anders' relaxed frame, he had to rein in the urge to swat her hands away.

She is trying to help, he told himself sternly. She was his mentor, she wants to help.

He tried telling himself that he wanted to protect the mage because of what the mage had done for him in his greatest time of need; he was grateful and wanted to return the favor tenfold.

But…he kept thinking about what the mage had whispered to him on the way to the ship.

"I could suck you off."

Such a simple phrase should not affect him so, but as time dragged on, Fenris was unable to resist going back to the mage's…vivid descriptions.

"I would lick and suck you slowly, driving you wild, and when you came…" Well, that description certainly spoke for itself, Fenris thought with a shiver.

"I would suck down every last drop you had to offer, and I would kiss you, letting you taste yourself on my tongue." That…was a bit disturbing, actually. The whole idea of the mage…sucking him was…intriguing, but still slightly disturbing. And then tasting his own seed? Intriguing, but slightly off-putting as well.

"I would devote myself to you, thoroughly and utterly, and I would deny you nothing and give you everything; no matter how tame or depraved it was." That statement was the one that simultaneously pleased and frightened the elf; he would be lying if he said he didn't…desire…the mage. But what the man had offered was…incomprehensible. True and complete devotion? To him?

He looked down at his hands, eyeing the thin spiraling network of scars. Why would someone desire him? He had nothing to offer in that aspect. Intimidation? He could do that without really trying. Protection? He loathed it, but he could do it as he had been trained. Killing? All too easily.

But…what Anders wanted…

No, he thought with sudden clarity. Anders did not know what he wanted.

This idea was reinforced once Wynne finally retreated from her patient, looking waxen and almost dead on her feet.

"It was a close call," she muttered as she slowly walked towards the door. "Between the infection in his wounds and the lyrium they poured on him, he should have been dead days ago."

"Lyrium?" Fenris asked sharply. "They poured lyrium on him?"

"I found traces in his wounds, yes," Wynne said tiredly. "Luckily it was just processed lyrium; if it had been raw, he would have died almost instantly. No, they wanted to keep him alive, but in pain, and possibly delirious."

"What now, mage?" Fenris asked.

"We wait, elf," Wynne snapped, inclining her head towards him. "I will be visiting the captain if you need me. I'll trust you to watch over him. I'll be back to check on him in a few more hours."

He watched her leave, turning his attention back to Anders once the door was shut. He considered the mage for a moment before standing, and dragging the chair closer to the bed.

It had been a while since he had been able to stop and rest, he realized. Every moment Anders had been missing, Fenris had known that the chance of ever seeing him alive again diminished. He would have to thank the assassin later, both for his tactical help and for keeping Fenris grounded and focused. But now…sleep sounded wonderful, as he had missed out while searching for his mage. Even if there had been time, he doubted that he would have been able to sleep soundly; he was reluctant to admit it, but he had grown used to the mage sleeping beside him. Anders was safe now though, so that was all that mattered – safe, and out of templar hands.

Without a word, he rested his arms on the edge of the bed and laid his head down, falling asleep almost instantly.


Sometime later, he slowly started to awaken, becoming more aware as he felt a delicious tingling on his head. Fenris let out a low hum of approval, still mostly asleep but awake enough to feel the wonderful sensation of his scalp being gently scratched.

"Who's a pretty kitty?" a voice cooed.

That was quite enough.

Fenris opened his eyes, turning his head and offering the awakened mage a glare. "You did not just call me kitty."

Anders beamed at him, though the smile was diminished by how tired and pale he looked. "Sorry Fenris, it seems that I'm projecting onto you. I'll try and avoid that in the future."

"Good," the elf huffed.

"Would you like some milk?"

"You're terrible," Fenris chuckled.

"I know," Anders said. He considered the other man for a moment, reaching hesitantly again for Fenris' head.

The elf froze, watching the hand for a long moment before closing his eyes and laying his head back down on his arms – right under the mage's hand.

He wasn't sure how long they were down there, him trying to sleep while the mage cooed over him and petted his hair, but he knew it was going to be a long voyage, so they certainly had time to spare.


"Amigo, you seem much more…at ease," Zevran said the next day as he and Fenris walked about the deck. It was habit for both of them – they were men of action, even on small vessels. If they had to sit still longer than absolutely necessary, they would go insane. Or, at least Fenris would. He wasn't sure if the assassin truly did need the exercise to calm him or if he just wanted to try to bait Fenris.

Either or both seemed equally as likely.

"What of it?"

Zevran shrugged and offered a grin. "You hardly rested or ate when we were figuring out where the healer was and how to get him. Now you seem at peace. Is it because he is safe now?"

"Yes," Fenris admitted without hesitation. "I owe him my life."

"Ah, that I can understand," the other elf said sagely. "Would you believe me if I said that I owe my Warden the same sort of debt?"

"Yes, I would," the warrior shrugged, ducking under some fastened rope. "Great people tend to draw others like ourselves to them, and we end up owing them debts that we cannot hope to repay."

"Eh, I agree with you on that, though your mage has yet to kill anything as serious as an Arch Demon," Zevran laughed.

"He doesn't need to," Fenris replied. "I will follow him regardless."

"Such devotion," the assassin noted. "Have you taken him up on his offer for his services? A handsome man like that can't be resisted forever, unless you're not of the same mind."

Fenris halted his progress, almost staggering to the side when the ship hit a rough patch of sea. "I- what?"

Zevran turned, giving him a coy, knowing look. "What, you thought I didn't hear all that? If we had actually had any other templars on our tail, they would have either laughed themselves silly or would have uncomfortably exited the area to seek out a cold stream."

"I don't see how that is any of your business," Fenris said coldly, continuing on his way around the ship.

Zevran smoothly slipped in front of him, halting his progress once more with a raised hand. "Amigo, it is my duty for the time being to keep an eye on your mage," he said, voice much lower and for Fenris' ears only. "I make it my business to know what he may or may not have as options for escape, and that includes lovers. I have watched you both for some time before he was captured, and I know you are both interested. The pair of you would be a formidable team, and I'm just trying to make sure he…doesn't slip away again. Your Anders has a nasty habit of doing that."

"We're not lovers," Fenris growled quietly. "He can do much better…except you. Don't touch him or I'll remove your…" he paused for a moment, considering how to word it. "Cojones." He finally said, making a hand motion to go with the word.

"Oh ho, what is this?" Zevran said, smile turning into an appreciative leer. "Reserve mi cojones, por favor. And so humble, I never would have thought! Amigo, what makes you think there is better than you, hm?"

"What do I have to offer?" Fenris grumbled. "Besides my sword arm."

"So, you think that you are…woo-less? Let me count the ways you are not. For starters, you do have a lovely voice," Zevran said, raising a hand and listing off on his fingers. "You are tall and strong for an elf, even though I know you are not fully recovered from your last ordeal. You move too stiffly," he said at the shocked look Fenris gave him. "You look like you should be much more graceful, and there is a hitch in your swing when you go to decapitate someone. Anyway, you have a very striking appearance, and though they are scars, they do accentuate the lines of your body quite nicely. Oh, and your protective streak isn't off-putting at all."

Fenris stared at the other elf for a long moment, and then growled loudly, stomping around the assassin, and continuing on his way.

Zevran watched him go, cackling happily.


Fenris spent most of his free time watching over Anders. When Wynne requested it of him, he would help move the normally unconscious mage around, either to help bathe him or to move him so he would not develop bed sores. He actually delighted in helping; it seemed all too fitting that he return Anders' favor, bit by bit.

Under the combined care of the elf and elder mage, Anders recovered quickly, to the delighted shock of both Wynne and Fenris.

"Oh, this is just wonderful," the elder mage said a few days later, checking over Anders' wounds. "You'll be ship-shape by the time we make landfall."

"Wynn, did you just make a joke? Careful, you can't have too much fun," Anders teased. "You might throw out your back."

"I'll have as much as I want, even at your expense," she retorted. "Fenris, stop brooding and come out of the shadows and sit down already."

Grumbling under his breath, Fenris did as she asked, settling into the chair next to Anders' bed.

"I'll leave you two alone then," Wynne said after another moment, gathering her supplies and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Fenris turned to Anders once the door had latched, eyeing and looking his mage over critically.

Besides wearing a pair of trousers, the mage was bare of any other clothing save for a blanket; the wounds had needed to air out, Wynn had told him when he had questioned. Magic could help speed along the process, but some things just needed to work out themselves.

His chest bore the marks of his abusers; countless red lines crisscrossed from his collarbones down onto his belly; it was miraculous that he had not been cut open, the elf noted.

Anders' fever had broken the previous day, and clear and aware honey brown eyes returned Fenris' glances steadily.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Anders replied quietly, breaking the gaze and looking down at his lap. "I…Zevran…he told me what I said to you," he said slowly.

Fastas vas, Fenris cursed inwardly.

"If I made you uncomfortable Fenris, I'm sorry," Anders added with a rush, looking up at him earnestly. "I was delirious, certain it was just another hallucination-"

Fenris held up a hand, effectively silencing the mage. "It is alright. I understand."

"You do?" Anders asked. He narrowed his eyes. "Or do you?"

Fenris merely raised an eyebrow. "Yes. I've been told your overall condition by a qualified healer when you boarded this vessel. I understand completely; you were not yourself."

The mage stared at him, mouth slightly ajar. Fenris frowned, leaning forward and gently grasping Anders' jaw. He felt the days of stubble, felt the slight pulse of the other man's quickening heartbeat. He felt the other man still beneath his fingers, heard the absence of the others' breath-

He closed the mages' jaw with a gentle snap.

"You'll catch flies like that," he said gently.

"Fenris-"

"Healer," he replied.

"I…can we…talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing now?" Fenris asked with a small smile.

He watched, amused as his mage attempted to glower at him, with little success. "I just…I realized something, and I thought I'd get it off my chest while I could, and while you still have options."

"Options?" Fenris asked carefully. "What options?"

"We're on a boat, heading for Ferelden," Anders pointed out. "When we land, you could easily find employment and seek passage elsewhere, or you can continue on foot to wherever the urge takes you."

Fenris stared at his mage, the man he had started to – no, best not dwell on that.

"You're…letting me go?"

"You've always been free to leave Fenris," Anders said wearily. "Wynne could continue your exercises until we land, if you don't want to be near me. I wouldn't want to assume – I mean, I don't-"

"Perhaps we should continue this later," Fenris interjected swiftly. "When you have all your thoughts together-"

"No," Anders said firmly. "I'm making a mess of this, but I will spit it out, even if it kills me."

"I'd rather you didn't die on account of words that could have waited," Fenris said, starting to panic. Maybe if the mage couldn't get the words out, then Fenris wouldn't be forced to leave his side-

"Fenris, I believe I am mostly myself now," Anders said, looking back down at his lap. "Could we…discuss that kiss I owe you?"

Fenris stared at him, uncomprehending. "…what?"

"I'msosorry," Anders immediately started babbling. "I don't even know where to start…" he trailed off, looking at Fenris helplessly.

Curious despite the possible outcome, Fenris did what he knew would make the mage spill more; he remained silent, and waited.

Anders started gushing at once.

"I've…always liked you, Fenris," he admitted, worrying at a hole in his blanket and avoiding looking right at Fenris.

"The moment you walked into my clinic, behind Hawke, I…I felt drawn to you, to the both of you. And then you started speaking, and I realized it would never work between us, because of what I am and what you had been through.

"At first, I wanted you both. Then, Hawke…" he trailed off, looking up at Fenris. The elf nodded, understanding; Anders had seen signs of insanity before anyone else had, and it had put him off.

"After the Deep Roads, when you came back, it was like…I can't explain it, save that the reason I liked to pick fights with you wasn't to prove that all mages should have the same rights as other people of Thedas; I just…I just wanted your attention, for good or ill. I ached every night for you, despite what Justice told me; that you were a distraction, and a dangerous one."

Anders…had desired him? That was…very unexpected. "Your demon did not like me," Fenris said sharply, trying to stay focused on the topic at hand.

"Not really," Anders said with a small smile. "He loved the lyrium you carried around, and…you made him feel true pity instead of righteous anger. He thought it was a shame that you could not be swayed to join us."

"'Thought'?" Fenris queried. "Has he changed his mind, now that he has helped you start the revolution you so desired?"

"I wouldn't know," Anders said quietly. "I am not an Abomination anymore."

Fenris moved without thought, one hand reaching out and gripping Anders' throat while the other hovered over the mage's chest, a dagger in hand where once the hand had been empty. He pressed it over the mage's heart.

He stared into that man's eyes, watching for any sign of flickering blue in those warm brown eyes. Instead, all he saw was the surprise, then acceptance in Anders' gaze. The gaze didn't waver, fear did not enter those orbs, and Fenris felt a lurch in his chest.

How? How was this possible? How did…?

"Fenris," Anders said quietly. "I think that I lo-"

The dagger was tossed aside, the raised hand coming down, and firmly latched onto the man's mouth, silencing him.

"You do not know what you say, healer," Fenris said softly. He held Anders' gaze, unmoving. "You do not…want me. There are better people out there, better mages even, who would be excellent lovers for you. I…I am not." He slowly removed his hand, continuing when Anders stayed silent.

"Anders, I am a broken elf with only broken pieces of my past and the clothing that you gave me on my back. I am not appealing to the eye, I can barely read, and I lack certain…experiences. I have nothing to offer you."

There, he had said the magic words. The mage would move on, and Fenris would follow, if allowed, and then-

"I don't care," Anders said. "I just want you."

Fenris stared. Surely he had misheard? Why would the man want him? He decided that he needed to go seek out the elder mage to see if his hearing was acting up and started to back away.

He didn't get very far before he was stopped, Anders reaching out and grabbing his arm firmly but gently, and pulling him back to his side.

No, no, no. This isn't right, why is this happening? I should stop him before he makes a mistake and hurts us both-

And then chapped, dry lips met his, and all of his thoughts vanished like smoke.

Compared to his other kisses that he remembered, this was…sweet, and rather chaste. There was no tongue, no all-consuming passion. There was just a gentle pressure on his now-tingling lips and an iron grip on his arm, holding him in place.

Anders drew back after a moment, and when his lips left, Fenris' own felt decidedly bereft. He licked his lips thoughtfully as he watched Anders settle back in bed.

"That had to be done," Anders said after another moment. "I thought actions might speak louder than words to you."

"They did," Fenris coughed, slowly sitting back down in the chair. Once he was settled, Anders seemed to relax, and smiled at him.

He thought I was going to leave.

"I…am unsure of my feelings," Fenris admitted, ears lowering apologetically. "I desire you, but…I don't…"

"It's alright," Anders said gently. "I wasn't expecting a confession, Fenris. I just wanted to get my feelings out in the open, so you can decide what to do."

"I will follow you."

He could see that his answer surprised the other man, and continued. "I owe you a debt that I cannot hope to repay, and I would see to it that you are not taken advantage of by your Warden Commander."

The mage snorted. "Please, Fenris. Not even you could stop her if she wanted to use me for whatever mad scheme she has planned this time. If she wants it, it is inevitable that she will get it, no matter who or what stands in her way. Did you know that when a Warden slays an Arch Demon, they die?"

Fenris frowned at that. "Then, if she killed it, why is she-"

"Still alive? Quite the question, that," Anders nodded. "I personally think she looked the Maker right in the face when He came to collect her, and spat at him."

"Are all mages from the Ferelden Circle that spirited?"

"Only the pretty ones," Anders said with a wink.

Fenris blinked. Had the mage just-?

"Anyway, where we go with…this," Anders waved his arm vaguely between them. "I'll leave up to you."

"Truly?" Fenris asked, head cocked curiously.

"Truly," Anders nodded. "I wouldn't do anything that would be uncomfortable for you."

The elf considered for a moment. Being with Anders…well, he certainly enjoyed it. But he needed time, and space, to consider his options.

"I…will need time, healer," Fenris said, standing stiffly. "I need to clear my head and think things over."

"Okay," Anders whispered as the warrior walked out of the room, latching the door shut once more.