A/N: So the story has one-two chapters lefts after this.

I have been planning to end certain things here for a long time, but now I am wondering if the boys should be sent to Minrathous. Should I go with what I had planned? Or should I continue on and end it after one more story? I don't want to keep going if it seems to people that it should be done.

What do you think?


A warden whispered in Frey's ear and the First Warden shot his eyes to Anders. He murmured something back and waved the warden off. "We have a problem. It seems that Cousland and Fenris have attacked wardens and broken into my office."

Anders' eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "What? That can't be right…"

"Can't it?" Frey tilted his head to the side. "I told you this day would come. Aedan Cousland is going to try and usurp my position. If he succeeds, who's to say that he won't try and take your throne next?"

Lifting a tankard of ale to his lips, Anders took a slow sip. "That's ridiculous." But the doubts began to worm their way into his mind even as he spoke his denial. He'd seen the way Fenris had been looking at him lately-part sorrow and part anger. He knew what his lover was thinking. He didn't think that Anders could do it—rule a country. It had opened his eyes as to how Fenris truly saw him. He thought Anders was an idiot, a foolish mage that cracked jokes and took nothing in life seriously.

But Anders was so much more than that, and it was time that Fenris understood that as well.

Aedan had been looking at him differently too. Anders could feel the cold calculation behind his eyes, and he knew that Aedan had plans, plans that involved Anders.

Or so he'd thought.

Now he wondered if Frey wasn't right. The wardens were a powerful political force in the Anderfels. Would it be a stretch to find that Aedan Cousland had aspirations for far more than First Warden?

Anders gritted his teeth. It was a habit he had picked up recently, and he didn't know where it had come from. There were evenings where his jaw would ache from having clenched his teeth too many times throughout the day.

Maybe it was time he showed Fenris and Aedan that he was not to be trifled with. They both thought him weak and ineffectual. Anders rose to his feet and pulled his staff from its customary place on his back. "Where are they?"

If he had been looking at Frey, he would have seen the faint glow to the man's eyes that flared for the briefest moment. "Up in the griffon aerie. I'll show you the way personally."


Aedan held out his hand for another health potion. Fenris slapped an opened one in his palm and the commander gently poured it down Zevran's throat. They had gone through three bottles, and Zevran's wounds had healed, including the break in his leg-thanks to Fenris. The elf had watched enough of Anders' lessons to be competent enough to set the bone before a healing potion had been administered. He could only hope that the break had been clean, or else their efforts would be for naught.

Zevran still would not wake up.

He had groaned once or twice in pain, but he had not once opened his eyes. Aedan was becoming frantic as he demanded over and over for Zevran to wake up and look at him.

Something was keeping Zevran unconscious.

If only Anders were here. He might be able to tell them what was happening. Fenris got to his feet and paced the room as his teeth gnawed on a gauntlet covered knuckle, kicking through the snow as he went. He had to think. He'd been around some of the most powerful magisters in Tevinter. Hawke was one of his first good friends. Anders was his lover, who liked to collect books that the Chantry frowned upon at the best of times, and at the worse would kill him for possessing, books that he had taught Fenris to read from.

He stopped as a thought occurred to him and whirled on Aedan. "Did the demon that you fought come through the tear in the Veil in its form?" Aedan was stroking Zevran's hair and ignored Fenris. The elf walked over to him and knelt down. He grabbed Aedan by the face and forced him to look at him. "The demon that you fought before, did it come to this world in its form?"

Aedan's mouth worked silently and his eyes shone with unshed tears. He blinked a few times and one tear fell down his cheek. "I…" He swallowed heavily. "No. it had possessed the body of an Orlesian baroness. It eventually consumed her and took her form."

Fenris sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "Is it… Is it possible that whatever has assumed Zevran's form is…" He waved his hand in the air as he searched for the right words. "I don't know, is consuming him as well? Zevran isn't a mage, but could a demon try to take him anyway?"

Face screwing up in thought, Aedan's eyes flicked over to Zevran. "Demons can take anyone. It's just easier if the person is a mage. I know that Anders once had a cat that had been possessed by a rage demon." He laughed under his breath, but it lacked its usual mirth. "But he could've been lying about it."

"We need to kill the demon," Fenris insisted. "We can't do anything for Zevran or Anders until we do."


Fenris and Aedan had taken off their warden tabards and wrapped Zevran up in them. The assassin was still cold, and Fenris was worried that he might have a case of hypothermia. They had to get him some place warm and safe before they could go after the demon.

Before they could even reach the door, Zevran cradled in Aedan's arms, it flew open. Anders stood in the doorway, his arms enveloped in a fire spell. Behind him stood Frey, another warden and… Zevran.

Anders' eyes widened when he saw what was in Aedan's arms before narrowing again into angry slits. "What game are you playing, Aedan?"

With his sharp eyes trained on Anders, Fenris replied instead. "No game, Anders. I need you to step away from… the thing behind you… Zevran." He held out his hand for Anders.

It was just like when Fenris had freed Anders from Vengeance. Fenris was once more holding out his hand for Anders to take, silently pleading for the mage to trust him, as he had trusted him so many times before-as Fenris trusted Anders.

This time, Anders laughed.

"You really do think I'm a fool. I know what's going on here. You both are conspiring against me and Frey. You're trying to turn me against Zevran-the only friend I have left."

"Anders," Fenris began. "Don't—"

"Shut up! You're always telling me 'Don't'. You're always calling me a fool. Well guess what, Leto. I don't need you anymore. Your plans to kill me and Aedan's plans to use me end here." Anders slammed the end of his staff into the ground, punctuating his words. Flames erupted in a line that sped towards Fenris and Aedan.

"Move!" Aedan shouted. They both dove to the side, Aedan taking the brunt of the fall to the ground for Zevran. He rolled to his feet and stood in front of his lover, pulling his shield and sword free.

Fenris had never seen Anders use a spell like that before. The heat from the blast had melted away the snow in the room, and steam rose from large puddles. He drew his massive sword from its sheath on his back and held it defensively in front of him. "Anders, please listen to me."

"So you can tell me more lies?" Anders' hands and staff rose with a flourish. A ball of condensed flame floated in front of him, growing larger as Anders spoke. "So you can tell me how much you love me while at the same time you try to hold me back? Justice and I had such grand plans, and you ruined them all! I won't let you take this away from me too." With a flick of his fingers he sent the fireball shooting towards Fenris.

He was too slow, and the fireball grazed his shoulder as it passed. Searing pain radiated down his arm, and Fenris had to grit his teeth against it to avoid dropping his sword. The fireball crashed behind him, sending flame and stone flying.

Behind Anders, Frey grinned wickedly. His eyes glowed with an inner light, and Fenris growled to see it. It wasn't just Zevran, it was Frey as well, the man who had been whispering in Anders' ear for weeks. "Aedan!" he called.

"Yeah… Yeah, I see it," Aedan said grimly.

Frey, Zevran, and… Fenris' eyes widen. That warden… he didn't know his name, but he had seen him before. He was the one fighting in the dining hall while others cheered him on. How many demons were loose in Weisshaupt? How long had this been going on? A fissure of fear race down his spine, and he ruthlessly pushed it aside.

"You can't have him!" Fenris yelled. "He's mine!"

Frey laughed, touching Anders' shoulder and the mage's eyes glazed over. "But he is so delicious. He has such pride. It was a small spark, but didn't take much for it to grow."

Pride…

Fenris' eyes darted to Zevran.

Desire…

The warden who had been fighting in the dining hall.

Rage…

They were feeding. They were feeding on them all. The demons didn't care about the Black City, or that Anders might be king. They didn't care about the wardens. They simply saw them as a meal, one to be cultivated like a farmer with livestock—and it had almost worked.

It still might.

"The blood mage," Fenris asked between gritted teeth. "Did he summon you?"

This time, Frey's laugh rang hollow. "That fool? He thought to deal with us—enslave us. He didn't realize that we did not need him. We fed well before we killed him, just like you will feed us well."

The desire demon ran a hand down Anders' arm. "Him, we won't kill just yet. Already he grows stronger with us. Once he's consumed we'll become king, and our feast will never end."

The hair on the back of Fenris' neck rose at the demon's words. They did care about who Anders was. "No! I won't let you!"

"You'll be dead," Frey assured him. "And this will no longer be your concern." As one, the pride and desire demon lifted their hands away from Anders. The mage's eyes became lucid once more.

"Fenris," Aedan hissed. "If we can't kill them, we'll have to—"

"Don't you dare finish that thought, Aedan. Don't you dare." Fenris would make sure the whole of Weisshaupt burned before he let Aedan kill Anders. Rationally, he knew that Aedan was right. If they couldn't be stopped, they couldn't allow Anders to be used and their reach spread to the whole country. Look at the damage that had already been done with the wardens.

But Fenris' heart rebelled at the thought. Rationality did not come into play where he and Anders were concerned. Nothing about them was rational. A slave from Tevinter and an apostate had nothing in common on the surface. Who cared about rationality? The heart could not always be reasoned with.

Especially not Fenris'. Maker knows he'd tried.

"Arguing against killing me?" Anders lifted his arms and flames shot up his staff. He whirled his staff and fire snaked out of it like a whip. "Or are you still trying to make me believe that you care?"

Fenris raised his sword and blocked the end of the whip from striking his face. It wrapped itself around the blade and the steel closest to the fire turned red hot. As Fenris watched in horror, the red steel became white from the heat, and Anders gave a sharp yank on his staff. The sword snapped in half and Fenris dropped what was left to shield his face with his hands as molten metal flew at him.

Hot steel droplets landed on his ear and he howled in agony. He used the tips of his gauntlets to claw at his skin in a vain attempt to stop the pain.

"Enough!" Aedan slid into a battle ready stance, his shield in front of him and his sword raised. "We're ending this now." With a cry, he charged forward.

Through the pain of his shoulder and ear, Fenris let out a cry of dismay as Aedan reached Anders. But the commander didn't strike at him with his sword, instead he bashed his shield into the mage, knocking him to the side. Anders flew backwards and slammed into the wall, dropping his staff in the process.

Weaponless, Fenris resorted to the only other thing he had to fight with. With a growl of anger, his brands flashed, enveloping him in their iridescent blue light.

Several things happened at once.

Zevran—the real Zevran—opened his eyes with a gasp.

Anders gave a cry of shock.

And the demons… they showed their true forms.

It was like a sausage casing had split, unable to hold everything inside any longer. Rips appeared in the guises of the demons, and flesh and clothing fell away. Aedan backed up immediately as the much larger forms of the demons crowded the stairs and the doorway.

That was it… That was what had woken Fenris and Aedan up-Fenris' connection to the Fade.

The demons were massive, and as they squeezed through the doorway, the stones around it cracked and broke. The pride demon was twisted and ugly, its flesh mottled with lumps. It was by far the largest of the three. Pride was huge. It demanded attention. Pride would fill a man and make him larger than life, even if it was in his own mind. The rage demon's features could barely be discerned in the flame it was comprised of. It growled, a sound that was eerily familiar to Fenris. He had made that noise so often, that Anders had said he should write a book on how to interrupt Fenris moods. While in contrast, the desire demon was almost too beautiful to look upon. It was mesmerizing, and hermaphroditic. It was sin, it was want, and it was need. It was more than just pure lust, it was everything a person coveted. It beckoned and seduced with power and riches. The three of them comprised some of the worst traits in mortals—the wardens from Vigil's Keep especially. That all of them were old and powerful, there was no doubt.

And they had obviously been feeding well for years.

They got a look first hand where Anders got the power for his fire spells. The rage demon lashed out with its arm the second it was in the room, sending fire roaring towards them. Fenris raced to one of the alcoves and slid behind it for safety, while Aedan dropped to his knees in front of Zevran and ducked his head behind his shield, protecting them both. His shield grew red from the intensity of the heat, and the twin griffons of the wardens that had been painted on the front melted away.

The demons had lost their hold on Anders and the mage got to his feet. He looked shaken, and his eyes were wide while tears ran down his cheeks. Fenris wanted to go to him, to wipe that look from his face, but the demons were in between him and Anders, and he didn't want to call attention to the mage.

Aedan was bunkered down behind his shield, unable to move from his spot in front of Zevran. The pride demon's enormous fists were pounding on the metal, creating dents as the shield took the brunt of the attack.

As they had bundled Zevran in their tabards, Aedan had explained to Fenris that the only way to repair the tear in the Veil, was to kill the demon that had stepped through. Or at least, that was how he had done it before. He hadn't known if there was another way.

There were only two of them against the demons. Aedan would have called it good odds, but that would have come from a man that tried to take on an army of darkspawn with only Anders, and talked about it as if it had been fun and not the impossible odds it had been.

His mind made up, Fenris stepped further into the Fade and charged.


The guilt ate at Anders. It felt like a yawning pit had opened up where his heart was and he was being dragged down into the abyss. How could he have done it? How could he have tried to kill his friends and Fenris? Maker, he had hurt Fenris badly. Not just physically, but emotionally. Anders wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and wish the last few weeks away, pretend like it never happened.

But it had.

Maker, it had, and the knowledge weighed him down into inaction.

He felt like he was watching someone else, and he was screaming at the man to move, to fight, and to do something other than just standing there. He let out a choked sob. He felt so powerless. What kind of man was he that he had let demons into him time and time again? He gave great lip service about blood mages, but was he any better? He had been about to trade the lives of those he cared about the most for power and glory that he hadn't known he'd wanted.

A hand slid up his arm and Anders' skin crawled at the contact. He rolled his eyes to the side to see the desire demon smiling at him. "You want so badly to make this all go away… I can taste it." It licked up his cheek and Anders shuddered, whether in disgust or need, he didn't know.

Aedan was on his back now, his sword on the ground next to him. He was using both arms to hold up his shield and repel the pride demon's attacked, but Anders could see that he couldn't hold out much longer. A bright flash went off in his periphery and Fenris came rushing out from an alcove. He was almost too quick for Anders to see as he ran towards the pride demon. He leapt up on the pride demon's back, and sunk his fingers into the creature for leverage as he climbed. The demon roared and swung its arms back wildly in a vain attempt to pull Fenris off of it.

"I can take this from you. You won't have to remember their deaths." The desire demon was kissing his throat, and Anders groaned. He could feel its horns brushing against his cheek, a stark reminder that it wasn't human.

"No…" Anders whispered. "No."

With a cry of triumph, Fenris made it to the thing's head. Anders watched wide eyed as the elf plunged his hands into the demon's skull. "Aedan, move!" Aedan rolled away, dragging Zevran with him. Once they were clear, Fenris ripped his hands free, taking the demon's brain. The pride demon didn't make a sound as its life was abruptly snuffed out. It collapsed, sent Fenris falling to the ground. The elf landed with a crash and a scream of pain.

Anders jerked towards Fenris, but the desire demon had taloned fingers gripped tightly on his arm. "Oh, poor dear, it looks like he broke his arm." It clicked its tongue. "One word from you, and he could be healed again. I could give you the power to do it. I could give you the power to take his brands away. He would just be another elf, nothing special to the magisters. Don't you want that, Adelric? Don't you want to help him and make sure he never suffers again?"

Maker, it knew what to say to him. It went right into Anders' soul and saw all the things he had ever wanted. Yes, he wanted that. He wanted Fenris to have true freedom. The magisters would never stop coming for him. They would never stop searching. How long could they pretend that the Vigil was safe? It had never been so.

"I could give that to you." Desire nipped at his earlobe. "Let me in… Say the words."

When Anders didn't reply, the rage demon moved in. It opened what passed for its mouth, and a great river of flame-one to rival the lava falls in Orzammar-erupted forth. Anders' heart stopped when his vision was obscured by fire. "Don't," he breathed. Then louder, "Stop!"

And it did.

The fire winked out, leaving a trail of smoke and charred stones behind. The only sounds in the room were the crackling fire of the rage demon, and Anders' panicked breathing. Where were they? Where did they go?" A head with white hair streaked with soot, peeked out from behind an alcove wall. Anders' eyes darted to the other alcoves to see Aedan glance out as well. He let out a sigh of relief that was short lived.

"Don't you want to save them? None of you can hope to win. Submit now, and we will spare them." Desire cupped Anders' jaw and turned his face back towards it. "We'll make you king. No one will be able to stand in your way. You can free the mages in the Anderfels. You can free Leto." Then it went further, finding hidden desires that Anders had never known existed. "With us by your side, you could march on Tevinter, and get revenge for what they have done to your lover. We could bring the circle tower of Minrathous to the ground. All of the knowledge of the Imperium would be yours for the taking. You will bleed them dry, as you conquer and destroy. None of the magisters would think to harm what is yours again. Nothing would harm either of you again."

Anders sucked in a shaky breath. Andraste, he wanted that. He hadn't known how badly until the demon spoke. He would have the resources to hunt down and kill those responsible for making Fenris what he was. He could find them and make them suffer as they had made Fenris suffer. He could take everything from them; their power, their riches, their loved ones, their memories, and finally their lives. As he looked into the demon's slitted eyes, Anders saw it all unfold before him. His breath seesawed through parted lips, and he felt himself grow hard.

The demon pressed itself against Anders and the mage could feel its own answering arousal. His head tipped back against the wall and his eyes rolled in his head. "Say you'll let me in," the demon moaned. "Tell me that you want me as much as I want you."

The rage demon roared and Anders' eyes snapped back into focus, snatching him from his dream. Fenris was standing in the middle of the room before it, the broken half of his sword in his only working hand. "Don't listen to it, Anders. I believe in you." Fenris' face was raw and pleading.

The desire demon hissed and it sounded much like a snake. "Don't be a fool," it told Anders. "You will all die here."

Anders' hands shook as he raised them and pressed them to its chest. The demon's skin was soft and smooth, and he could feel its nipples harden under his palms. "There is one thing I want…"

The demon purred. "Tell me, and it will be yours."

Taking a step forward, Anders locked eyes with the demon. "I want you to die." Arcane bolts shot out of his hands. The desire demon screamed in shock and pain as the spell tore through her. Blood and gore splattered on Anders, coating his face as the demon fell dead.

That only left the rage demon.


The battle with the rage demon was the hardest physically. The aerie was large, but not big enough to battle a creature of that size with any efficiency. Fenris could not touch it, so we was left to fight with his broken sword, slashing at its fiery appendages.

As he and Aedan fought the demon, Anders huddled next to Zevran. He simultaneously finished the healing job on the assassin, and threw wards and healing spells on Aedan and Fenris. It took everything that Anders had, and by the time the creature was killed, leaving nothing but a charred spot on the floor, Anders found himself slumped over Zevran.

Now that the fight was over, Anders had time to think. The reality of what had been happening at Weisshaupt crashed through him, and he began to cry, loud hiccupping sobs. An arm wrapped around his waist and he turned his head to bury his face in Fenris' shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you so much, I didn't mean... I'm sorry… sorry…" he breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of blood, smoke, and Fenris' unique scent.

"There is nothing to apologize for." Fenris placed a kiss on the top of Anders' head, despite the fact that he was still covered in demon blood. "None of us were ourselves."

Anders' head jerked up and he almost collided with Fenris' jaw. "Don't lie. It was us. It…" Fenris' broken arm hung limply at his side. He had a fresh burn on his face, and were the skin wasn't an angry red and blistered, it was bleached almost white with pain.

"No." Fenris cupped Anders' jaw gently in his hand. The mage could feel the slight scratch of the clawed tips from Fenris' gauntlet on his skin. "It was only a twisted version of us. But it was not us. I would never hurt you, and I know that you would never hurt me. Not the way… Not the way we have been. I can only hope that you can forgive me."

Anders gave a choked laugh. "You can't have it both ways. You're right, if it wasn't us, then there is nothing to apologize for."

As Fenris leaned in and gave Anders a lingering kiss, one with all the warmth that had been lacking the past few weeks, Anders knew two things to be true.

That it would take time to erase the things they had done while under the influence of the demons.

And that the one thing Anders would not let time take away, was that Fenris had believed in him.