Chapter 16: Fenris Wakes

It was the middle of the night when Fenris finally opened his eyes, his whole body shivering uncontrollably. Confusion mixed with cold, mixed with darkness and sparks in his mind, mixed with hot burning memories of jungle heat and people's faces, and the sense of blood but not the smell. Oddly, there was no pain. He remained as still as he could, annoyed that he could not still his shaking. Slowly, his vision cleared to reveal a dark room with only the flicker of firelight from a fireplace. The heavy curtains were drawn against the chill outside the window and he then remembered snow. Snow… freezing cold. He gasped. A moment of panic rolled through him as he remembered he had been so cold he fell over in the snow and pleaded for Anders to let him just… sleep. Anders! He felt the furnace of the mage's natural body heat behind him. He inhaled sharply again as he had forgotten to breather for the seconds where he thought he and Anders had been separated. He frowned as realization dawned of his nudity, but the expression softened. He remembered drowning and freezing there in the water and this was how you saved the life of a freezing man… by slowly warming him with another's body heat. He snuggled closer into the mage for warmth, trying to stop the perpetually cold feeling inside him and the shuddering that vibrated from his spine outward.

He turned his head and took in the room with his elven sight. It was not a way station. The room was too large and did not have the other telltale signs. There was a build in bath beside the fireplace, a small pile of firewood between the two. A short bench, more like a stool beside the bath, held a pile of thick towels. Across the room was a desk with supplies for tea and trays of food. Their gear lay dropped and strewn haphazardly near the single large bed. The curtains were heavy velvet and thick furs covered him over thick quilt blankets. This was an expensive room. By the sound above the ceiling, there was a room above them where a couple were fucking hard and loud. Fenris wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

He rolled over carefully, noting that the mage's arms draped heavily over him. To his relief, Anders wore sleep pants. The mage seemed deeply asleep, so he risked a moment and snuggling face first into the mage's chest. If Anders woke, Fenris would say he was warming the front of him since the back of him had already been warmed. It was not a lie, just not the whole truth. Fenris would never admit out loud his secret craving to sometimes be the one who is protected instead of the one doing the protecting, curling small and burying his face into the chest of someone else, held in arms that can be strong too. The warmth seeps into his hands, his nose, his knees. His shivering finally abated as he felt comfortable and normal, no longer as if the snow had gotten inside his skin. In retrospect, he thought that maybe the lyrium was like metal and froze sooner and stayed cold longer. He huffed into Anders chest, annoyed with himself for his foolishness to not listen to the mage, the healer, who clearly did know what he was about regarding Fereldan winters.

The blond tightened his hold and mumbled, "Mrf… fnnnn… Fen? Fenris?" But he did not really wake, drifting back into deep sleep. Fenris lifted his head to study the mage. Dark circles under those eyes, washing out the fair freckles Fenris thought were supposed to be there. Blond locks that were feather soft, felt slightly damp. Pale skin, a bit too pale and slightly clammy.

"Mage… Anders… what have you done?" Fenris shook Anders to force him awake.

A whimper and a whine of complaint. Amber eyes blinked blearily back at the elf. "Wha? Grnumbrfff. Uhm… I… Saved your fucking stubborn ass from freezing to death." The hug tightened further. "You almost died," Anders mumbled into Fenris' neck. "Then … I got mad… and while you were out… I tried to tear apart the magical bindings in you. But… I… too much… too tired… it was too strong…"

Fenris strained trying to make sense of the words. "How long have I been out?"

"Two… days? I think. If… if… oh sheizen…" Anders rolled away from Fenris and staggered from the bed. With what little mana he had regained, he heated the water in the bath and staggered back into the bed. "If you can… eat, drink, and have a hot bath. Then… come back and sleep with me."

Fenris was quite sure Anders was not fully coherent. He just heard the mage ask him to sleep with him. The air in the room was much cooler than under the blankets. The invitation was, well, much more inviting by comparison. Then he felt the gnawing stab in his gut. A very empty gut that needed sustenance. He inched unsteadily from the bed and considered covering up his nudity, but the mage was already softly snoring, oblivious. He clenched his teeth as his feet stepped haltingly on the stone floor and sighed when he reached the desk with the food. There was a rug he could stand on. He drank a glass of water and nibbled some of the food off the plate. Not very much, he knew too much from days without would only make him ill. He ate just enough to ease the hunger pains. He willed himself then to walk the cold stone floor again till he reached the bath. He tossed a couple logs into the fireplace and then touched the water of the bath. It was still quite hot.

He eased himself into it, sinking completely under for as long as he could hold his breath before sitting up. He loved baths like this. Though he preferred the smooth marble tubs with dwarven plumbing. While he lounged, allowing the hot water to warm every part of him, he stretched and spread and clenched his fingers under the water. His last memory was of not being able to move any of his fingers at all. He did the same with his toes. His last memories included yelling things at Anders, thing he did not mean, things in a language he was unsure Anders knew, hoped he didn't know. They were among the cruelest and vilest things. His eyes drifted over to the sleeping mage, his expression softening into something like regret or unspoken apology. Shame creased the elf's brow.

When the water cooled, he climbed from the tub and dried off. Then he stilled. He had been out for two days. Anders had been digging around in the mess of blood magic within him. Fenris should be in agony, or at the very least should have been woken in agony every four hours he was still. It was a revelation that maybe Hawke really was right, that maybe Anders really could free him after all. He tested his brands, illuminating the room brightly and then releasing the power. There was no pain, not even from that. He marveled at the discovery and spontaneously moved through fighting and training exercise forms. Then heedless of his nudity, he rushed to the mage, "What did you do?! What did you do to me?! They… the brands… ANDERS! The brands do not cause pain!"

Plaintive grumbling answered him as Anders rolled over pulling the blanket over his head. "I tried to fix you… now… let me sleep…" He peaked over the edge of the blanket to see an expression that made him wonder if he was in the Fade because Fenris would never look like an excited child. "If you hurt, then I would be a lousy healer. Get your naked ass back in bed and let me sleep." With a flickering grin, Fenris pulled on his leggings and climbed into the bed. Anders rolled over again to face him and tuck the blanket around them both. "I am glad the lyrium no longer hurts you. Tell me the second it does and I will see what I missed. I just wish… I wish I could have gotten rid of all the bindings…. Then… ACK!" He yelped in surprise as the elf wriggled close and suddenly hugged him fiercely. Fenris pulled back uncertain and concerned. "Gentle. I am not unscathed from the efforts. Those fucking-Maker-damn-them-to-the-Void magisters and their traps." Anders cautious took Fenris' hand and encouraged him close and into his arms. "I'm really exhausted. I need rest… please."

"Thank you," Fenris whispered.