Chapter 2: Rough Start
~~ co-written with cypheroftyr.
And then… then came socks and boots.
Anders sighed. They had been to several shops and Fenris had balked at everything the mage had shown him. No matter what style, type of material or cost the elf had shut him down. "But Fenris, you will freeze without boots. I'd rather you not lose a toe or a foot because you're stubborn."
Fenris shot Anders a cold black look. Anders flung up his hands in exasperation and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine," grumbled the elf. "But I am not wearing them unless there is absolutely no other choice."
Anders could have cheered!
They went into the very next warehouse. Fenris merely made a dismissive gesture at Anders. He no longer cared what they were going to get for his feet. He was out of patience and in a ripe foul mood. How was he to express to Anders that he was… nervous? So much of his fighting talent depended on how well his feet were planted, the slightest turn and dig for balance, the feel of the very smallest vibrations from the ground. He would none of these with his feet all muffled up in footwear. It would hinder his ability to protect them. As it was, his hands were healing still. He couldn't yet wear his clawed gauntlets.
The merchant of this warehouse brought over a selection of boots at Anders request in relatively close sizing. Anders studied one pair more closely when he heard a loud snarl and saw a lyrium blue flicker out of the corner of his eye. He dropped the boots and whirled around to shove the merchant away from Fenris. Fenris was practically unintelligible as he snarled in Tevinter. The merchant had knelt to measure Fenris' feet and touched them. It almost cost the man his life. He cowered away as Anders got between the man and Fenris.
"Easy Fenris. He didn't know. I didn't know he would touch you. Look, it is ok." Anders tried to verbally soothe as if he was approaching a furious feral cat, the kind that could claw you to death in a moment. Fenris' lip curled up to bear a pointed tooth. The tattoos dimmed and he sat back down on the bench. Anders let out a relieved sigh. He then turned, took the merchant by the arm and led him away a bit to calm him down and offer him extra coin for the mistreatment. The merchant had just managed to get a rough measurement and so Anders returned with boots of relatively a good size for Fenris.
Anders shook his head and sighed again as he knelt this time at Fenris' feet. Better he take the risk than someone innocent. He wrapped his hands over one of Fenris' feet. As expected, the already extremely on edge elf lit up brightly with another snarl. A hand grabbed and fisted in his hair, pulling his head back. Anders saw a the other hand half-phased into the Fade and poised to strike like a deadly snake. He sucked in a startled breath and stared at it a moment in fright. Then he shut his eyes and took a deep steadying breath, never letting go of that foot. "I trust you. I trust you. I trust you." He murmured as his mantra before he opened his eyes to meet Fenris'.
The murmured words reached the elf and shocked him from his distressed state. Fenris stared down at Anders, his brands buzzing with threads of pain and heat and sensations that bounced memories at him just out of reach. Warm eyes held his. He unphased his hand and closed it into a fist, resting it on his thigh. The hand fisted in Anders soft hair relaxed. The fingers gave a brief flex of reassurance before untangling from the blond locks to fist on his other thigh.
Anders let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. That was close. Be he accepted that if he was going to die, that it could be at the elf's hand. He just would prefer that it not be in a boot warehouse and for simply putting a boot onto Fenris' foot. It just seemed like an undignified way to go out of the world. He dropped his eyes and carefully slid the boot onto Fenris' foot and tied it into place. He glanced up to make sure his life was still safe as he repeated with the other foot. No one from their old gang of friends would EVER believe him if he told them he got boots onto Fenris.
"Okay Fenris. Stand up." Anders sat back on his heels.
Fenris stood and grimaced. He ground his teeth as Anders prodded the boots and checked spacing to be sure there was both room for socks and room for movement. When asked to walk, Fenris scowled death at Anders as he took a few awkward steps. He felt off balance, weighted down, about to fall.
Anders watched and thought how toddlers learning to walk must look just like this. He kept the comment to himself, along with the snickering. Fenris would have killed him for sure otherwise. "Stop thinking about each step. You know how to walk. Just pretend if you have to."
Fenris turned and lunged to strike Anders and stumbled. He regained his balance only just. And tromped and stomped back to the bench. "Vanhedis," he hissed. "Get these things off me." He sat hard and held out a foot to Anders.
That Fenris was not fighting to tear them off himself told Anders that they fit just fine and were probably more comfortable that the elf was willing to admit. Anders removed the boots and promised Fenris a foot massage once they get to an inn for the night. After the purchase, they left the warehouse and walked the next couple hours to the edge of town.
There were several inns and taverns and brothels at each of the main roads into and out of Highever. The old Cousland estate had been taken over and turned into a combination of all three for those who had better coin to spend. They stayed clear of it as Templars' horses were clearly in the stabling yard. Also, they needed to stretch their coin as long as they could. They chose a cheap inn a little ways down the southern road.
Fenris remain deeply broody and silent and angered swiftly to anyone who got too close. Anders decided it was best to get them a room and retire to it immediately for the night. They could eat from their rations and from the food they just bought for the road. Their meal was in silence and Anders started to get antsy with it, used to conversation or some form of interchange. "Fenris? Would you like that foot massage now? Or are you too hypersensitive to be touched still?"
Fenris had been sitting on one of the cots nibbling bread and staring at one of Anders journals without really reading for about an hour. He looked up and then away guiltily. "I am not ready."
Anders accepted that for now and chose to craft some simple potions and salves with his supplies to pass the time for the evening.
"Mage. Why did you hold my feet before trapping them in those boots? Why didn't you let go when I almost could have killed you?" Fenris finally broke the silence.
Anders corked a bottle and packed it away. "Because you needed to calm down and be used to the fact that those were my hands and no one else's. If I moved away, then we would only be repeating the incident over and over. I trust that you will not kill me without very good reason."
"You took a dangerous risk."
Anders walked over to Fenris' cot with a jar of healing salve and sat down close to Fenris. "I know. But no more than the risk you have taken to get me out of Kirkwall and stay by me." He reached out slowly and took one of Fenris' hands, gently rubbing the healing salve into it to treat the tender skin. Fenris allowed it without resistance. "I know this was hard for you. You had just put down some roots, made a home, and had something to call your own." He rubbed salve into Fenris' other hand and inspected it carefully as it was worse damaged than the first. He nodded more to himself, approving of how well they were healing. He took hold of both of Fenris' hands. "My very life is in these hands."
Fenris watched, almost dumb-struck by Anders words and actions. No, humbled. And honored. Feelings he knew came when he found a sense of purpose. But he could not entirely wrap his mind around or put into words what that purpose was.
Anders moved back a bit and started with Fenris' feet. He carefully massaged each one thoroughly till he could hear the elf sighing deeply. "I dare say, I think I found a weakness of yours." Fenris snatched his feet away. "Fenris. I mean in that I found something you actually like. You know, like I have a weakness for bergamot vanilla tea. It happens to be something I really like." The smell of the tea has been in the air all evening, along with the scents of elfroot, birch, and wintergreen. He gave Fenris a tentative smile before heading to his own cot. He removed clothing till he was down to a just a shirt and pants and waited for Fenris to look away. Then he changed into sleeping clothes for the night and climbed into his cot.
Fenris put the journal down after Anders had actually fallen asleep. He had been reading some of the snippets of when Anders had just been moved into Fenris' manor and the emotional turmoil that swirled in the mages mind during that time. He packed the journal away and likewise prepared for sleep, after verifying the door was well locked and his blade close at hand. Fenris struggled to sleep as he strained to grasp those bits of memories he almost had earlier in the day. No luck. He gave up and busied himself with dealing with Anders who suffered a number of night terrors through the night, likely due to being in Fereldan now and sandwiched between Wardens and Templars.
Fenris did manage a good four hours sleep and woke very early in the morning to move through his exercises. He took out the scarf he bought for Anders and shook it out. He folded it loosely onto the pillow beside Anders head and then stood by the window to look down the road and to plan the first leg of their journey.
Anders woke to something tickling his nose and never saw the tiny smirk that snuck across Fenris' lips. He opened his eyes to a rich deep forest green with golden leaves embroidered through it. His fingers slid quietly forward to verify if this was real of if he was still dreaming. Soft silk and Dalish designs. It was very much real and very beautiful. He sat up and took it into his hands. "Fenris? You got me a gift?" He draped it about his neck.
Fenris grunted and shrugged.
"Fenris... I love the gift. I really do." Anders brought the ends of the scarf up and rubbed his face into the soft Orlesian silk.
Fenris glanced now and then out the corner of his eyes not wanting to miss the delight in Anders' eyes or the blissful smile on Anders' lips. These were moments too rare to ignore. But he did have a job to do and scanned out the second floor window for any potential trouble on the street while he waited for Anders to finish dressing.
Anders approached the broody elf. "Fenris?" The elf turned to face him. "I am going to hug you," he warned.
Fenris' eyebrows shot up and he stiffened awkwardly.
It was like hugging a hard tree with stick-out branches. Anders figured that if he hugged long enough the tree would soften into maybe malleable leather. And if he hugged a bit longer, it would transfigure into an elven warrior all out of sorts with this kind of affection. Eventually, he figured, even that elven warrior would soften and hug him back.
Anders was right.