AN: Erm, would have done this sooner, but this author was bad and got distracted with Skyrim. In this update, the boys look for work, Fenris and Anders argue, and Anders gets devious. You are warned, since this is Anders we're talking about.
Despite having a good day, that night had brought its' own problems.
That is, Fenris had problems - specifically having Zevran sharing the same bed as him and Anders.
"If you so much as breathe on him wrong, I will gut you, promise or no." the warrior snarled as they discarded their clothing for the eve, him and Zevran's being carefully folded and sat down- Anders, being himself, naturally let everything fly and drop where they would.
Zevran, being a smart man, smelled the danger, and merely offered the other elf an all-too innocent smile. "Who?" he asked, pointing at himself. "Me? My friend, I will be the perfect example of platonic chastity! Unless you change your mind, in which case, I'll go fetch some rope."
It was a good thing Fenris was no mage, else the assassin's pretty golden head would be on fire now, Anders thought idly as the warrior snarled at Zevran in Tevene something nasty before throwing a pillow at the rouge, who promptly ducked it with a laugh.
Their bed, while certainly large enough to fit them, didn't fit them to where they could have a comfortable distance between each other. And then there was the matter of placement. Fenris at first insisted on being in-between Anders and the assassin, but it was noticed immediately by all parties that Fenris was Not Comfortable being in the middle of everything. However, being the utterly stubborn git he was, he refused to switch places with anyone. After an hour or more of kicking, snarling, and in one instance, biting, Anders settled the match once and for all, namely by kicking Zevran into one corner and rolling over Fenris and nudging him to the other.
Fenris was on the outside closest to the window, with Anders snuggled up against him, and Zevran on the other side of the mage, closest to the door. Even then, there was the fact that every few minutes, Fenris' white head would pop up to peak over Anders to look at the assassin, probably making sure he was keeping his hands to himself.
"Stop it," Anders finally muttered. "He's taken and he knows better than to try anything."
"He's an opportunist and I won't have him encroaching on what I consider to be mine," Fenris hissed.
Anders pondered that statement for a moment. "I'm yours, am I?"
Even in the dark, he could see the tell-tale darkening of the elf's skin. "I…I don't mean-"
"I'm…a person of interest for you," Anders teased.
Fenris huffed, but there was a small smile on his face now. "Indeed. I find very few people…interesting."
"Not even me?" Zevran's voice cackled from behind Anders. "I feel slighted! All my pretty looks and smoldering gazes – wasted!"
"I'll waste you if you don't shut up," Fenris snarled.
"All right children," Anders said loudly. "Let's settle down and get some sleep. Mummy made you both lunches for your first day of classes tomorrow so you'll do well in your lessons. Who wants pie?"
"You're ridiculous," Fenris muttered, though the venom was decidedly lacking since he snuggled closer, resting his face into the crook of the mage's neck and quickly falling asleep.
The next morning found Zevran bidding them a cheerful goodbye and leaving them to themselves. After a quick breakfast of fruit, Anders led the way to the Chanter's Board, Fenris close by.
"Well, nothing," Anders said after a moment of looking. "Save for a notice about an auction- oh! Perfect, it's a work auction! This might actually be better than a normal job."
"A what?" Fenris asked as he quickly followed after the mage, who was now darting in and out among the crowds of people, intent on his destination.
"Work auction," Anders said as they came into a packed square with a raised platform. "People come up, tell the auctioneer what their skill-sets are, and then they're auctioned off-"
"Slavery," Fenris interrupted, hand already reaching for his sword. "We should-"
"No no," Anders cut in, offering the elf a stern but knowing look. "These are perfectly legal. And the person who buys your service only has you for the day. And it's just that- a service, not slavery or selling your flesh. You get work and some pay, and the auctioneer gets a cut of the profits, usually for a charity or the Chantry. All in all, not a bad thing. Except for the Chantry bit," he added, almost as an after-thought. "Oh well. They can consider this my tithe for the next ten years or something."
"I will not indenture myself," Fenris growled, though his hand left the hilt of his weapon.
"Then you can follow me, as I'm sure that's what Zevran wants you to do," Anders said swiftly. "Come come, I need to get signed up."
As it was, Anders ended up being under the service of an old Chantry mother with Fenris tagging along as his 'bodyguard'.
"A bodyguard?" the mother (Mother Helena, Anders reminded himself sternly) asked, voice perpetually quivering with age. "My boy, what sort of trouble did you get yourself into to warrant a bodyguard?"
"I lost a lot of card games and a lot of money, Mother," Anders said. This, technically, was very true- he still owed the Coterie quite a bit of gold. So much so, that last he heard, the next time they saw him, they promised to cut off his ears in payment. He hoped he didn't run into them- he was rather fond of his ears and rather attached to them, thank you very much.
"Oh, my dear boy," Mother Helena sighed, shuffling along the street. "I will pray for you. At least you can do some good work though. Maker bless the Hero for requesting your kind to be allowed a longer leash."
"Pardon?" Fenris asked, sounding surprised. "Your mages here are free?"
"Young man," the Mother said severely. "You have been living under a rock! When the Hero saved us from the Blight, she requested one thing from our new king- that the Mages not be confined in their Tower. And it was granted, for the best, I feel."
"But how are they kept in check?" Fenris asked, sounding more and more agitated by the minute, to Anders' annoyance. "How do you keep them from taking over? How do you-"
"I said they were given a longer leash, child," the Mother replied. "And I meant it. They are freer than they were; but, we still have our Templars, and we still Harrow. It was decided that mages are to be kept in the Tower until they are Harrowed, and then they are sent where their talents are needed…with a Templar escort until they are proven reliable, and can prove that they can handle themselves outside the Circle. Even then, they must document where they go and what they do."
"A longer leash," Fenris mused. "There is change, but nothing is changing too drastically."
"Indeed," Mother Helena smiled. "Both our king and our Hero agreed mutually on this."
Hours later, as Anders finished up healing the last patient (a young man who had broken his leg thanks to his over-enthusiastic Mabari hound), Fenris couldn't help but comment.
"You left all of this for Kirkwall?"
"Yes."
An eyebrow cocked. "Why?"
"Because…because it wasn't enough," Anders sighed, getting up and washing his hands in a basin. "We do have more freedoms here, in Ferelden. But how long will they last, if at all? Children are still ripped from their mother's skirts against their will, still feared and reviled in some households. All it would take would be one major mishap with a mage here, and they would lose their newfound freedom…if you can call it that," he added with a disgusted snort. "And there are still other Circles out there who need help, who need to have freedom in their hands as well."
"And so you went to Justice."
"And so I went to Justice," Anders said bitterly. "Oh, what a mess that was. Still cleaning up after that, mind you. But…this, all of this," he waved a hand vaguely around him. "It's a start, at least."
"Despite the distinct lack of explosions?"
Anders winced. "That…I'm not exactly sure how I convinced myself that needed to be done. I looked over my notes from that year…and…I just…" he trailed off, falling still as he thought about what he had done, what he had learned.
"You were not yourself," Fenris offered quietly.
"No," Anders agreed. "I wasn't. I'm still not. I look back now on what I wrote before then…Fenris, it's the most unrealistic tripe I've ever read. Justice…I was more Justice then, than I was Anders. Anders knew mercy. Anders knew that some battles were better left not fought. Anders knew that ultimatums never really solved anything. Justice did not. Justice is hard, unyielding- a force neither good nor bad. Justice is that blade that hangs over everyone's proverbial neck, waiting to slice down should they step outside the boundaries of what is right. For nearly ten years, I was that blade. It's…dehumanizing, being a living weapon."
"Yes," Fenris said, his voice chilly. "Yes, it is."
They left the hospice around mid-day, heading back to their room, both quiet save for the occasional question from Fenris about the city.
When they closed the door to their room, Anders noticed that Fenris seemed to be breathing easier. For whatever reason, it irritated him- how dare Fenris act afraid in this miserable city? He wasn't a mage, he didn't have to worry about the Chantry being alerted that there was an unescorted mage running around.
"What's the matter?" he asked archly. "Afraid that the big bad mages are going to jump you?"
The look Fenris gave him was priceless- a mixture between surprise and barely suppressed anger. "You know my history with unknown mages, and you mock me for it when we're in a country where they are nearly as free as in the Imperium?"
For whatever reason, the earlier talk of Justice and freedom had riled Anders up to the point where he wanted to argue, to fight, even if it meant angering the man before him.
"This isn't the Imperium, Fenris!"
"No, it's not. But it could be. All it takes is one mage who is cunning and bloodthirsty enough, and then it's all downhill from there," Fenris barked back. "All it takes is one man, or woman, or child, to throw everything out of balance, and when they have magic at their fingertips, it makes that upswing all the more unsettling. I stand by my belief that if you give them the chance, almost any mage will become a Magister."
"Not all mages are Magisters, Fenris," he replied, arms crossing over his chest. "Most just want a simple life with simple freedoms."
"I'd be blind not to see that," Fenris said, nodding at the mage. "But this is a country with newly freed ones. Do not try to assure me that there weren't, that there are not any problems. You would be lying, and I won't abide by it."
"Fenris, there's problems everywhere," Anders pointed out.
"But it would seem problems with mages involved become exponentially more complicated."
"Maybe they wouldn't be so complicated if people would just treat mages like normal people."
"That is impossible," Fenris snarled.
"Why?" Anders asked, no, demanded. "Why is that impossible Fenris?"
"Because mages are not normal!"
Anders took a step back, not quite sure if what he heard was actually what the elf had said. "Wh-what?"
"Mages," Fenris repeated through gritted teeth. "Are not normal. You know this, I know this. It is a statement of fact, like the sky is blue and Mabari are smart."
Anger blazed to life in Anders' gullet, and he just couldn't contain himself- after everything he had done for the elf, after what they had been through together, he still felt this way?
"So I'm nothing but an abomination of nature to you? A freak? A side-show in a traveling act? Is that why you're being so cautious and slow with…with us? Because you're afraid of unleashing something nasty in me?"
"No," Fenris started, but Anders was beyond listening. With a grunt, he shoved past Fenris and out the door, ignoring the elf when he scrambled after him.
"Anders, I desire you but-"
"Sorry, Anders isn't here at the moment," the mage snapped as he stomped down the stairs and headed towards the bar. "He's too busy being a mage to understand you. If you leave your name and request with the scribe, he'll get back to you as soon as he stops being all magey and disgusting."
"You're not-"
"Barkeep," Anders called out as he sat down. Ignoring the elf beside him, Anders indulged himself for the first time in years. Whenever Fenris would try to speak with him, Anders would either hum very loudly or tip back his drink. Eventually, the elf got the hint.
"Fine," he sighed. "If you are certain you wish to take this course, I will leave you alone for a few hours. I need to go procure some new armor anyway. If my healer thinks I'm ready, that is."
Despite the fact he was still miffed, Anders couldn't resist a serious medical question. It was what he was, petty differences or no. "No heavy plate. Bronze is as high as you're allowed to go right now."
"I'm also considering a broadsword."
"Broadsword will be fine," Anders sighed, rubbing his temples as a new glass of alcohol appeared before him. "You'll be sore for a bit though."
"I'll live."
And with that, the elf left Anders alone at the bar.
He glanced up at the barkeep, offering a smirk. "So…how about those mages, eh?"
He wasn't sure how long he was at the bar- it could have been days for all he noticed. But eventually when the room started to tilt a little, Anders decided he had had enough, and slowly made his way back up to the room.
He met Zevran on the way up. He didn't care much for the grin the assassin gave him. "I'll be at the bar," the elf said, offering him a wink before trotting downstairs.
Grumbling about silly elves, Anders entered their room, slammed the door, and promptly threw himself onto the bed, groaning into the pillows.
Why did he pick a fight with Fenris? They had had a truce, up until this point. Hell, the elf had been doing rather well, what with actually enjoying Anders' touch to the point that his arousal over-rode his inbred fear of magic. Fenris, laying pliant beneath him, trusting him…oh, what a wonderful image, Anders thought. He certainly didn't mind Fenris' new…compliance towards him. And now, despite the fact he was trying to, well, woo the elf, he had gone and picked probably the prickliest subject available, and now Fenris was gone.
This was perhaps one of the few times he should have actually listened to his dick- his dick wouldn't have allowed him to argue with Fenris- why argue when you could be seducing? Or licking? Or sucking? Or-
His pleasant thoughts were interrupted when the elf he was thinking of opened and walked through the door, silent save for the slight sound of his new heavy leather armor shifting against him.
He stilled, his green eyes catching Anders' brown ones, an uncertain look in them.
"Welcome back," Anders offered.
Fenris seemed to relax at the welcome, offering the mage a small smile as he gently set down his broadsword and began to undress for the night. As he was watching the elf go about his business, Anders mulled over their current situation. He had agreed to go at Fenris' pace- however, nothing had been mentioned about, oh, tempting the other party.
Mind made up, he started to pull his clothing off, kicking off his boots with a thud that brought Fenris' attention back to him, the elf stopping his own undressing.
"Anders…?"
The mage paused, noting the tone- the elf was unsure, probably about many things. What he was doing, if Fenris should leave.
"Stay," Anders called to him quietly. "If it doesn't bother you, stay."
"I…this is private," Fenris muttered, though he did not look away from the mage. Anders offered him a small smile.
"It is private," he agreed. "And I want to share it with you. If you're alright with this, that is."
"Despite the fact that I seemed to have upset you earlier?"
Anders smirked, voice lowering an octave. "What better way to work through it than…releasing a little tension?"
"What-" Fenris paused, frowning as Anders tossed his clothing off the bed, leaving him in only his smalls. The elf's eyes seemed to grow wider, taking in every detail of Anders that he could. "Rules," the elf rasped. "What are the rules?"
Ah, Anders thought. Up until this point, there had been rules in their interaction- Fenris usually initiated it, Fenris was the one who saw, who touched, who set the rules. He wanted rules and boundaries; he wanted to know what to expect, so he wouldn't be surprised.
Anders could work with that.
"Just…enjoy the show," Anders smiled, lifting his hips up and grasping the hem of his smalls. "Watch, don't touch." And with that, he tugged the smalls off, tossing them aside and turning his gaze back to the elf.
Gotcha, he thought smugly as Fenris' nostrils flared. The warrior's hands were twitching, closing in around themselves as if he was imagining touching the skin that was now being bared to him. Keeping eye contact with the elf, Anders reached down, grasped his already swelling cock, and started to slowly stroke it.
The low growl from Fenris was unexpected, but certainly appreciated, Anders thought happily as the sound sent a zing down his spine. As he stroked, he let his eyes drift from Fenris' face and over the elf's frozen form- the leather was similar to the armor Anders was used to seeing him in, right down to the cut and the tight fit.
"Do you see what you do to me, Fenris?" Anders sighed. "You've always done this to me. Even after our most vicious fights- you always left me aching for you."
"I-I did?" Fenris stuttered, pupils blown wide. He seemed to stagger slightly when Anders' fingers reached for his testicles on the downward stroke, lightly caressing them.
"You did," Anders agreed, speeding up a little. He hadn't done this in a while, too long in his mind, and with Fenris watching…
"You did," he repeated, now going at a set pace. "Even when you snarled about mage rights, even when you described what you wanted done to me…I envisioned you beneath me, above me, riding me. I dreamed of fucking your mouth, shoving myself in as far as I could until I was close. You would beg me to continue, and if you begged enough, I would. I dreamed of you fucking my mouth, those nasty gauntlets of yours digging into my scalp as you held me in place. I wasn't joking when I told you all those things I would do to you, when you rescued me."
"No, you weren't," Fenris breathed, eyes entirely focused on the mage spread out on the bed. He looked hungry, Anders thought giddily. His body looked taunt, ready to pounce. He wondered what it would take to make Fenris snap, to make the other man completely unhinge.
"I would do all those things for you, Fenris," Anders purred. "And anything else you wanted. If you wanted a toy inside of you all day, I would take you to Antiva myself to help get you fitted. If you wanted to fuck me in the middle of the Gallows, I'd call for an audience with the Knight Commander. If you wanted to drag Zev into this for a little fun-"
"Leave that damned assassin out of this," Fenris growled, though the usual sharpness is dulled by his distracted state. "Tell me more of…what you would have us do together."
"What wouldn't we do?" Anders chuckled, light and breathy as he stroked himself closer and closer- "Fenris," he gasped. Closer-
There was a shift in the air, and that familiar rumble was right by his ear.
"Anders," Fenris whispered. "Let me see."
And Maker damn him, Anders came with a loud gasp, spilling into his hand.
His senses returned to him fully after a few moments, eyes opening to look up at the elf standing above him. The warrior's hands would tentatively reach out, twitch and then move back to his side only to repeat the process over again.
"You can touch now," Anders grinned.
Fenris pounced, hands grasping the mage's face and kissing him desperately, pulling what little breath Anders had left in him. Eager to return the affection, the mage reached out to touch the elf, hands gently resting on Fenris' waist. The warrior made an approving noise, ending the kiss only to gently plant a few more on Anders' face before pulling completely away.
"Enjoy the show?" Anders asked, curiously watching the elf gingerly make his way to the wash room.
"…yes."
"Not going to show off your own stuff?"
Fenris paused at the doorway, glancing back uncertainly. "Not at this time, no." He shifted awkwardly. "It's not that I didn't…that I didn't appreciate-"
"It's alright," Anders said quietly. "I didn't expect you to jump right in anyway. I just wanted to work out some tension...and to give you a taste."
The elf snorted, heading into the wash room and closing the door behind him. Anders heard him mutter, "Consider my appetite whetted then, healer."