Anders was very stressed. He'd barely had time to himself, he wasn't sleeping, and he was neglecting his patients. Of course, in the Darktown eye, it was simply a winning combination of increased demand and an even bigger increase in Templar presence. The truth had a few more details; there were more and more mages fleeing the Circle, and he was helping the underground resistance with that. They were all scared shitless of being made Tranquil for the most minor offenses. Some of the escapees were coming from solitary confinement, helped by a few Templars on the inside. They fed back how some people had been in solitary confinement for years, to the point everyone forgot them. No one knew what they looked like or who they were anymore. Solitary confinement was full-blown torture only for a few days, but years? There was more—humiliating initiation rituals before the Harrowing, captures being made an example of, children no longer being taught magic beyond the basics, and there was a "stop-and-frisk" practice going on, the Templars getting as handsy as they wanted to.

Hawke had been wanting into the resistance for a long time, but his allies refused. She was a noble now, and her best friend was the Captain of the fucking Guard. They weren't going to touch her with a ten-foot pole. She was too tied to the establishment, however much she was fighting against it. Anders himself started to feel doubtful. She always helped mages, but her head was getting stuck in the I'm-not-an-Aequitarian-but-I'm-basically-an-Aequitarian gutter. The whole "gotta meet them halfway" mentality. "Let's all be civilised". "Debate is key". "Can't we talk about this?". She used to be a mad anarchist. What happened to her?

He sipped his cocktail loudly, and glared at what happened to her.

"Another round, messeres?" the waiter said.

"Please," Fenris said.

Hawke had good intentions, but the Templars in Kirkwall had been moving the window of tolerance to the extreme, and the extreme was now mainstream. There was talk of a "Tranquil Solution" to be implemented within the next three years. Meanwhile, Hawke was busy causing a fuss about a couple of elves. It was supposed to be, by extension, about the public, the "citizens" Templars swore to protect. She told him this was her way in, to expose the Chantry's incompetence. Nobody gave a shit about mages, but when Templars started shitting the bed with those they were supposed to deem as "people", then there was room to organise. Nobody gave a shit about elves either, he'd said, but she disagreed. It was going to worry humans, that they were next. At worst, it would attract a lot of gossip and attention. The deranged noble taking on the Chantry because of some elves. It was confusing and interesting, and people would come to see what was happening. The people had power, no matter what the powers that be might think. With enough public doubt cast on the Order, she could get things rolling. She could get an audience with the Divine in the final analysis. It was idealistic in a whole different way to his. And stupid.

Maybe it wasn't just the whiny poltergeist of Minrathous. Maybe she softened because her hands were tied. If she wasn't being let in the core resistance, what else could she do but play the field where she had some game? She manned the other side and kept the Knight-Commander busy, and maybe that was enough.

But… he couldn't help but wonder—how long before she abandoned her principles for a pretty face?

"Here you are, messeres. Enjoy your date," the waiter said, back with their drinks.

"We're not…" Anders said, shaking his head and smiling tiredly.

"No," Fenris said firmly.

"My apologies, messeres. Would you like some complementary gelato?"

"Just… leave," Fenris said.

It had to be the pretty face. What else could Hawke possibly see in him? They argued for years, and then they ran out of things to argue about, so they decided to get horizontal. They were probably role-playing templar-mage S&M scenes and calling it 'therapy'.

Ugh, Justice whined.

"What'd you do that for? Free fucking gelato!"

"I don't want their 'Oops' gelato."

"Are you allergic to free stuff or something?"

"I haven't paid a single dime on my house. What do you think?"

"I think I don't understand you."

"The café probably just wants to appear progressive. I'd rather they gave their 'Oops' gelato to couples that they've mistaken for 'roommates'."

He has a point, Justice said.

No, no he doesn't, Anders thought. He scoffed, amused. "Game recognise game."

"What?" Fenris said tiredly.

"Isn't that your shtick? Appearing more progressive, but really, we both know where your heart's at."

"Keep your assumptions about my heart."

Mojo started growling at them. They both sighed.

"Help me see the truth, then… buddy," Anders said, smirking.

One day, everyone in Kirkwall was going to have to pick a side. He knew it, the escapees knew it, the Templars in the resistance knew it. It was all going downhill, slowly and silently, but surely. With no one in power intervening, there was no hope. He had reason to suspect that Fenris would betray them. He could be all sweet puppy-dog eyes now that he had a mage girlfriend, but when shit hit the windmill, he may stop playing house of mages and join the enemy. Her own brother almost did, so she mentioned once. Her ex-boyfriend absolutely did, she'd also mentioned, vaguely and bitterly. This was starting to seem like a pattern. An abusive pattern of a self-hating mage. He didn't like it.

Fenris's nostrils flared. He looked at his wrist, then made a very fake smile. "What would you like to know, buddy?"

"How do you sleep at night?" Anders said, crossing his arms.

"Very well," Fenris said, resting his elbow on top of the chair. "Although she snores."

"I meant in regards to your principles," Anders said, unhappy.

"Andraste, can you climb out of my arse?" Fenris said curtly.

"I think I'm doing the opposite of arse-kissing."

"Exactly. You're probing."

"Now that's an image," Anders said, chuckling.

Fenris rolled his eyes and looked away.

"I'm concerned for your health," Anders said innocently.

"Are you?"

"Cognitive dissonance eats away at your brain."

Fenris huffed, grinning. "Mages in glass houses shouldn't throw fireballs."

"Don't try to turn it around. This isn't about me."

"Fine…" Fenris said, staring him down. "Does it feel strange? Yes. Do I give a damn? No. Should this be any of your concern? Also, no."

She's our friend, too! Justice protested.

"She's my friend, too," Anders said.

Fenris looked at his wrist. "So far, I do not see you having anything constructive to say."

"Why do you keep looking at your wrist?"

"Be grateful I am still at the table."

He is trying. Are you? Justice said.

Shut the fuck up, Justice.

"Alright. Fair…" Anders said, containing himself. "Here's a constructive question—You care about a mage. Have your views maybe softened as a result?"

A fine question, Justice said.

It was just a flash, but a sadness came over Fenris. "A… little."

"Huh," Anders said, crossing his arms. "You actually said it."

Fenris shook his head tiredly. "I was already soft."

Soft?! Justice snapped.

"Ha!" Anders guffawed. "You must be joking."

"Show me one mage I have harmed or denounced or refused to help in my time here."

I don't understand, Justice complained.

"True. You're not violent. A mage to you is simply someone you haven't berated or condescended to yet."

Fenris opened his palms, as if the evidence was clear as day before him. "Soft."

So, he believes one thing, but does the other, Justice said unhappily.

It's called cognitive dissonance, Anders thought.

It's called hypocrisy, Justice retorted.

It's called being in love with a kind mage, Anders thought bitterly.

It's called fear, Justice said sternly.

"Please," Anders said, scoffing. "Hawke has you on a leash with that shit. That's the only—"

"If you ever say that again… I will fucking slap you all the way to Tevinter," Fenris said slowly in a deep, threatening voice.

Mojo started barking unhappily.

"How is that constructive?" Anders said, crossing his arms.

"It is, in fact," Fenris said, coming forward in his chair. He tapped on the table with his index finger. "When you say bullshit like that, it triggers me." He glanced briefly at his wrist. "I will be generous and assume it is not done on purpose, in spite of the fact everyone knows what I've been through, thanks to all the inane prodding over the years."

An eye for an eye, Justice said sternly.

Anders pursed his lips, tilted his head and narrowed one eye. "It's a little on purpose."

Fenris shook his head unhappily. "I knew it."

"Here's my constructive response—When you say harsh shit like 'I don't give a fuck if they rot in there', or call me 'abomination' or 'mage' in tones of a fucking passive-aggressive bitch… that triggers me. My heart beats faster, I feel awful, I want to crawl out of my skin and I want to punch you!"

He's a miserable, hateful man! Justice said angrily. He was hurt, and now he hurts others! It doesn't take blood-shed to hurt! It only takes a mouth! And his mouth is kissing the innocent mage, filling her mind with hate!

Fenris closed his eyes, put two fingers on his forehead and started rubbing. He looked at his wrist. "Our mission is to find a way to co-exist peacefully. I will make a conscious effort not to trigger you, if you will extend me the same courtesy."

Mojo barked very happily.

"Fine."

"But if you start growing gory flesh on the outside, I will call you what you are."

Prig, Justice said.

"And if you bite my head off, I will call you what you are."

"Fine."

"Splendid."

Excellent, Justice said.

"Are we done here?" Anders asked Mojo.

Mojo growled at them.

Fenris's shoulders sank and his head fell back. "Why me?"

"I know right?" Anders said, chuckling.

"What else do you want from us…?" Fenris whined tiredly.

Mojo ran out from under the table and spun around, barking happily.

"I think he's saying 'Find something you both enjoy'," Anders offered.

"Kill me."

He doesn't deserve murder. He deserves a good hard slap, Justice suggested.

"I wouldn't enjoy that."

"No?"

"No, I'm not a psycho."

"We could… kill other things together?"

Mojo growled.

"Build things?" Anders offered.

"I'm not going to build a bloody boat with you."

"Why a boat?"

"I don't know. Isn't that what 'men' do?"

Anders scoffed and put a hand on his clavicle. "I'm sweet and sensitive."

Mojo barked excitedly.

"He knows where it's at," Anders said, pointing at the dog.

"Please," Fenris said in a deep voice. "I'm sweet and sensitive. You're… whiny and needy."

Anders guffawed. "I'm whiny?"

"And needy," Fenris added.

"Right… right… And how many days have you spent without your girlfriend?"

At a guess, none. Fenris was not as mysterious as he wanted to think he was. He had hearts spinning around his head, making him dizzy. Following her to Darktown was a glaring mistake.

Fenris didn't move a muscle.

"And of those days, which I'm pretty sure are none, how many have you spent not complaining?"

Fenris's jaw clenched.

"Elves in glass houses shouldn't throw fire grenades," Anders said, smirking victoriously.

"Touché…" Fenris said, looking away.

Justice is served, Justice said victoriously.

Moderator Mojo was pleased with the conflict resolution, but wasn't letting them off.

"Come on, we've got to have something in common," Anders insisted.

Fenris thought about it. "We're both… men?"

"There we go… That's the… spirit," Anders said weakly, thinking to himself. He clapped once. "We're both feminists?"

Fenris groaned. "I'm going to need another drink…" he said softly. "Waiter!"

"We could go to a meeting, listen to women, then go to all the women in our lives," Anders mused, "and mansplain why they're programmed from a young age to obsess over beauty and marriage."

I hope you're joking, Justice said.

"Do I look suicidal?" Fenris said glumly.

"Or to the other men in our lives. We could tell them why we're programmed from a young age not to have feelings or resolve a conflict without violence."

That sounds like a plan! Justice said excitedly.

"Take Sebastian then. You two have preaching down to an art."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Fenris chuckled. "If that's how you hear it."

"We could… go to a mens' rights meeting? Hear about how men are cucks and women are the worst and they're taking over the world and destroying the state of nature?"

What is wrong with you? Justice said, outraged.

"You do realise the women in our lives have swords and knives and about a thousand spells that could turn us into dust."

And you would deserve it! Justice snapped.

"I know," Anders said, chuckling. "It's kinda hot, innit?"

Fenris stayed poker-faced.

"No? You're not even going to admit to the obvious?"

"Why are we talking about women?"

"I don't know," Anders said, mirroring him. "Isn't that what 'men' do?"

I am so tired of you people and your genders, Justice whined.

"I think it's what men do that makes women mad."

"True, but this isn't locker room talk. Plus, they discuss us all the fucking time."

"Well, the Wings of Chaos is a matriarchy."

"Damn. You're right. And Isabela is like the creepy one."

"Nothing new for me," Fenris said tiredly. "I get hit on all the time."

"Isn't that… a compliment for men?" Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmph. Tell that to my aching jaw," Fenris said, caressing it.

"What?" Anders laughed. "I knew you were a carpet muncher!"

"A what?" Fenris said, outraged.

A what? Justice said, confused.

"Think about it…"

Justice thought about it. I've never eaten a carpet before.

Fenris thought about it. He cringed. "That's… a disturbing way to put it. And not what I meant. I grind my teeth when I'm uncomfortable."

"Oh, so attention is annoying to you."

"This is no news."

"You're a strange elf."

"Also, not news. But I am a very normal elf, in this one respect. Both human women and men, and the occasional dwarf, harass us constantly and think we will sleep with them because we are poor and have no prospects."

"Really?"

"Really."

That is unacceptable! Justice shouted.

"Huh," Anders said, thinking. "I never thought about it that way."

"You never had to."

Anders groaned. "Well, I should, shouldn't I? There's so much injustice I don't appreciate because it doesn't necessarily affect me."

"Mages aren't the only ones with problems. Maybe you should give Justice something new to think about."

"He does need a break…" Anders said, rubbing his forehead.

I don't need a break! Justice complained. I need to break Templars' will to live, like they do innocent mages!

"Desperately," Anders added.

"In that case, I am happy to discuss…" Fenris said uncomfortably, "women."

"No, no. Let's discuss men. We're both… men. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Fenris said, glowering.

"Unconventional men."

"Are we? We fight people for a living and we make women mad."

"We make everyone mad. Hey, we have that in common! Plus, I'm a healer and you're…"

"Yes…?"

"I don't know," Anders said, squinting. "You have a quality."

"Oh, a quality," Fenris said sarcastically. "And here I was worried you were going to be vague about it."

"It's just a vibe."

"Ah, well, if I have a vibe, then case closed."

"Hair!" Anders almost shouted, clapping once. "You spend a lot of time on your hair."

"So?"

"So? Look around."

Fenris looked around the rooftop terrace. There was a bald guy, three guys with receding hairlines and one very tangled forest of a man.

"I woke up like this," Anders said, showing his floppy topknot.

"That's… sad."

Anders shrugged, slouched back in his chair and sipped his new cocktail. "I'm trying this new hobo mage aesthetic."

Fenris laughed. Anders looked terrified. "You can… laugh?"

"I laugh at funny jokes."

Anders scoffed, sipping. "Elitist."

"I am merely a comedy enthusiast, and cheap shots give it a bad name."

"Ha. That's why you went for the clown."

"She is funny," Fenris said, smiling a little. He laughed to himself, while Anders continued to look disturbed. "She did this bit the other day—it was King Alistair locked in a dungeon and trying to flirt his way out." He went on laughing to himself. "You're a… a woman… right? I mean… no. I don't see gender. As a man, I see people. With uhm… with-with uteruses?"

Anders laughed. "Who let the Utero-Fereldans out?"

Fenris chuckled. "That's disturbing. And incorrect."

"Utero-Thedosians?"

"No. That a uterus makes you a woman."

"Man, Hawke really got in your head."

"A little," Fenris said, chuckling. "But I believed that before, to a degree."

"Really?"

Fenris shrugged. "You are what you are. Fuck anyone who questions it."

"Huh. Are you sure you're not queer?" Anders said, narrowing his eyes.

Fenris downed a lot of his cocktail, and banged it unintentionally on the table. "Hawke says I'm a… demisexual."

A what? Justice said, intrigued.

He didn't expect that. He didn't even know what that meant. "What's that?"

"A…" Fenris thought about it. "Someone with little attraction to people unless feelings come into play."

He was already perfect the way he was! Justice complained. Sex is overrated!

No, no it isn't, Anders thought.

"Oooooooooooh!" Anders said, mindblown. "So that's why you used to be so…"

"So…?"

"I don't know a nice way to finish this sentence."

"Ask Justice," Fenris said, glaring.

Justice helpfully suggested a dry reading. "Unencumbered… by any of it."

Fenris leaned back in his chair. "I'd say it was a simpler time, but…" He looked away. "I'm always confused."

"I just thought Tevinter made you really repressed."

"You're… not wrong, but that's really a separate issue."

"Well…" Anders said, chuckling. "Welcome to being horny! It sucks."

"It does," Fenris said, chuckling with his arms crossed. "It takes up so much of one's time."

"Yep…" Anders said dejectedly. "At least you have a girlfriend."

Fenris's eyes flickered suddenly. "You need a girlfriend."

"I do…" Anders admitted. Or a boyfriend. Should he say that out loud? No. This wasn't his buddy. Even if he was a demisexual. That didn't make him bisexual. He wasn't even sure demisexual counted as a legitimate category.

They used to say that about bisexuals, too, once, Justice pointed out.

Good point.

"Let's find you one," Fenris said flatly.

"Uhm… what?" Anders said, confused.

Fenris came forward in his chair, quite determined. "I can be your… what's the term?"

"Wingman?" Anders said, very unimpressed.

"A fine term," Fenris said.

Anders (tried to) process that crazy notion. It was a little much, trying to get used to the vagaries of Fenris these days. "You would help me?"

"Why not?" Fenris said. "Maybe you will be nicer."

Fenris was nicer since he was in a relationship. It was disturbing.

"I'm nice," Anders said, offended.

"You're nice to mages. There are a lot more people out there."

Anders squinted. "Nah… if the elfy guy is there with me, they'll just be all over him."

"The elfy guy?" Fenris said in a deep, slow voice.

Justice helpfully suggested Anders was an idiot. "The… handsome elf."

"That's better," Fenris said smugly.

"Still no," Anders said.

"I'll be an arsehole," Fenris said, shrugging.

"You do have a lot of mastery in that area."

"I can make you look like a dream."

"You are the stuff of nightmares."

"A winning combination."

He was super drunk. It could be funny? It could be terrible. He couldn't decide.

I am not a part of this, Justice abstained.

"I don't have all day," Fenris said grumpily.

"Fuck it," Anders said.

Evening, The Rooftop Rumpus Room

"Nope!" Anders said, turning around. That portrait was disturbing.

"Relax," Fenris said, dragging him back by his robe. "They have a stripper on the other side of the bar."

"That's a comedian," Anders said, looking at the poor dwarven woman on stage.

"There will be a stripper," Fenris insisted.

"Ugh, fine," Anders said, rubbing his forehead. "Try to be like… extra arsehole, so you don't seem like a stud that just needs 'changing'. Be creepy."

Fenris frowned. "I'm not going to creep women out so you look good."

"Then what's your angle?"

"Shut up," Fenris said, making them go to the bar, where two women sat. "Hello… female humans…"

Anders cringed with a mighty force inside. It made his whole body hurt.

"Hello… assorted males," the brunette said.

"Are you looking for a mate?" Fenris said.

"Stop…" Anders said, face-palming.

He couldn't, simply couldn't tell if he was bluffing or just being himself. He did sound like that on occasion. Like he'd never been outside before.

"A mate?" the brown-haired one said, chuckling. "What is this? The jungle?"

"We're all just monkeys with anxiety," Fenris said, shrugging.

"I suppose," the brown-haired one said, looking at him as if he were crazy.

"What do you do… in life?"

"Banking."

"My friend is a doctor," Fenris said, making way for Anders.

"A doctor?" the brunette one said approvingly.

"Yes," Anders said, straightening his back.

"Like a real doctor? Not some witch doctor," the brown-haired one said.

"Or a 'doctor' of humanities," the brunette one said, chuckling between themselves.

"Okay…" Anders said with a fake smile. "It was nice meeting you," he said, leaving.

"Hello, female humans," Fenris said flatly to another group on a couch.

Anders repressed his urge to stop him, because he did sound like an arsehole. At a guess, he got hit on all the time because he was usually quiet.

"Female humans?" Anders said, shaking his head. "What's wrong with you?"

"What he said," a redhead said, raising an eyebrow. She sounded Fereldan. She was short, kind of doll-faced, she had shoulder-length curly hair and she had mad freckle game. More than Hawke, even.

"I'm a lost boy," Fenris said.

Anders bit on the inside of his lip, hard.

"Good, then you're used to this," Freckles said, shooing him.

He liked her.

"I'm… sorry. He's… not from around here," Anders said, rubbing his forehead.

Fenris glowered at him, but tried to continue the shtick. "It's true. I don't understand your ways. My friend here is showing me."

"Got to take him outside," Anders said, smiling. "Make him talk to real people."

"Who… does he normally talk to?" a Kirkwaller said, concerned.

"I talk to my plants," Fenris said flatly.

"Do you talk to your plants?" Freckles said.

"I talk to my cat. Well, I used to. I had to give Ser Pounce-a-lot away," Anders said, becoming sad.

"Aww, no. Why?" Freckles said.

"He's a Grey Warden," Fenris said.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"No, no—"

"Wow, a Grey Warden," another woman said approvingly. "Did you fight the Archdemon?"

"He was in Denerim," Fenris said vaguely. "I was there, too, but… I was just lost."

Freckles rolled her eyes. "So… Grey Warden. Got any juicy details about the Hero of Ferelden?"

He was going to get murdered soon, he just knew it.

"Sorry, ladies. I'm bound by an oath of secrecy."

"Oh, come on, one little inessential detail?"

"She has nice eyebrows," Fenris said.

Anders face-palmed. "She is a… raging Libertarian."

"Mages are evil," Fenris said flatly.

"Well, fuck you," Freckles said curtly.

What she said! Justice said angrily.

"Isn't that what we're supposed to say here?" Fenris said, waving at the grand painting of the Knight-Commander.

"Honey, be nice. That's the kind of thing we think, but don't say," one of the women said patronisingly.

Okay, not her then. Freckles was nice. She rolled her eyes at her friend.

"Would you like a drink?" Anders said, waving towards the bar.

"Sure, why not?" Freckles said, standing up.

Fenris nodded to him.

"So… where are you from?" he heard Fenris being asked as they left.

"The tundra," Fenris said flatly.

Fenris went to the bar, not knowing what to do with his life. He had no idea how they got here. He ordered his drink, and looked at his red wristband.

Go with the flow, Hawke would have said. Might be funny.

It was pretty funny, he thought—fucking around with people. Of course, it was just because of the chemicals in his body. They made him more extroverted and playful. But he knew once they left his bloodstream, he'd wake up in the morning with an annoying erection and needing to pee and being filled with hate. As per usual.

It's not the chemicals, you foolish man. It's you, when the tiredness and pain go away, Hawke may have said.

Either way, he needed to watch it. He didn't like the idea of not being able to keep both eyes open at the same time with that mage around.

He's got a name, Hawke would have whined. He stopped looking at the band. He didn't need a lecture from a piece of fabric!

"Oh, Maker, you're one cute bunny," a blonde woman said to him, leaning on the bar.

"And you're one racist bitch," Fenris said nonchalantly.

"Whoa, whoa, watch your language, buddy!" the bartender threatened.

"Sorry," Fenris said, containing his rage. He couldn't be mean to humans. If he said anything else, he'd have been thrown out. Of course 'bunny' was completely fine for her to say.

"Did I offend you?" the blond human said.

"Yes," Fenris said flatly.

"My bad," she said, chuckling nervously. "Let's start over."

"I have a girlfriend," Fenris said flatly.

That felt nice to say. And a faster way to reject people, he discovered.

Anders sat down with Freckles at one of the little tables in front of the stage, where the comedian was still riffing.

"So… what's your name?" Anders said.

"Pheobe. And you are?"

"A human and an elf walk into bar. The dwarf shakes her head and says, 'Why can't you stupid tall-folk learn to duck?'" the comedian said.

"Anders."

"That's a strange name."

"I'm a strange person."

"I got that from the company you keep," Pheobe said, smirking.

"Don't hold it against me."

"Why not?"

"We're… not exactly friends. More like…" He remembered. "Reluctant acquaintances."

"Isn't he your wingman?"

Anders sighed. "It's a strange day."

"Alright. Try me," Pheobe said, grinning.

"I've got this friend. She's also my boss, really. She told us to find a way to get along or she will publish a smut piece about the two of us. And… suffice to say, neither of us wish that upon the world or our own eyeballs."

"What?" Pheobe said, laughing. "That's… a weird way to manage a team."

"She's weird," Anders said, smiling. "Also, it was off hours."

"A mage and a Templar walk into the Fereldan Circle. I forget how the rest of the joke goes, but the Circle must be annulled," the comedian said.

"Too soon!" Pheobe shouted.

"Noted, serah!" the comedian said. "What's your name, Freckles?"

"Uh-uh. Don't read me. Read… that guy," Pheobe said, pointing over at another little table, where Fenris sat alone.

"The brooding gentleman?" the comedian said, walking along the stage. "Whoa, that's quite the glare, serah! Go easy on me! I went through a lot of shit to leave the Stone behind. I don't need you turning me into it!"

Fenris didn't respond.

"I bet you're swarming in kids," the comedian said, hand on her hip.

"Why? Because I'm an elf?" Fenris said sullenly.

"No, because you look like a broodmother."

Anders laughed. "Broodmother. That's good."

"I don't know. She's kind of bombing tonight," Pheobe said.

"You come here often?" Anders said.

"Every comedy night," Pheobe said, nodding proudly. "Even when they're bad, it's still kind of funny. They get nervous and bomb even harder."

"I was doing my usual routine," the comedian said. "'Fine dwarven crafts! Fine dwarven crafts! Direct from Orzammar!'. And this Templar showed up at my booth. I kept trying to stir him towards a rune of dexterity, you know, 'cause them flaming sword templates carry twice their bodyweight on top of all that itchy wool and polyester. He looked at my booze and gave me a stern Templar stare. 'Are you selling lyrium right now?'. I said, 'No, messere. That's not lyrium. I'm just day drinking.' The Templar continued his stare, kind of like Broodmother over here. 'It's Blue Curaçao, from Rivain,' I said. 'You want some?' The Templar lost it. 'Alcohol? Rivaini alcohol? That's drugs! That's foreign drugs! You can't take drugs in broad daylight! Just kidding. I'll take anything to numb the pain of living'."

Anders and Pheobe broke into laughter.

"Then again, sometimes they get a second wind," Pheobe said, smirking.

"I can't believe they're letting people badmouth the Templars here," Anders said.

"Please. They have a stripper," Pheobe said, rolling her eyes. "That portrait's all just lip service."

"That portrait will haunt my nightmares."

"Yeah… that… never goes away," Pheobe said, chuckling.

"Why? Are you a mage?" Anders said jokingly.

"No," Pheobe said, scoffing. "Are you?"

"No," Anders said, mirroring her scoff.

Pheobe shook her head at him sarcastically.

What were the chances?

"Looks like your even stranger friend got extra lucky," Pheoebe said, looking over his shoulder.

Anders looked behind. There were one, two… four women at his table. And he didn't look uncomfortable. He was smirky.

"What the fuck?" Anders said flatly.

Pheobe snorted. "Was he pretending to be creepy so you looked good?"

"I, uhm…" Anders stammered. He looked again, because that was more important. He was arm-wrestling a woman with a tattoo sleeve and long black hair. "Fucker has a girlfriend!" he said angrily.

"They're just talking," Pheobe said.

"And touching. He doesn't even let his own doctor touch him!" Anders said irately.

Pheobe groaned. "That sounds like a lot of drama I don't want to be in," she said, excusing herself. She pointed with a thumb back to her group. "'Cause I kind of have my own drama back there."

"Wait," Anders said after her. "Can I see you again?"

Pheobe pursed her lips, put her hands in her pockets and scanned him. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Hey… buddy," Anders said, going to their table. He was so telling Hawke.

"That didn't take long," Fenris said, shaking his wrist.

"Struck out?" a Rivaini woman said.

"Do I know you?" Anders said, squinting.

"No," she said, squinting. "I don't know you from Andraste."

"You seem famili—"

"You must have me mistaken for someone else."

Whatever. He leaned in closer to Fenris, crossed his arms and said quietly, "What are you doing…?"

"I know them," Fenris said flatly.

"Book club!" a blond noble Kirkwaller said.

"Book club?" Anders said, confused.

"Book club," Fenris said flatly.

"What are you reading?" Anders said, grabbing a chair.

"Nothing right now. We're debating what to read next," the noble said. "I'm Bonnie."

"Anders."

"The Art of Crushing A Guy's Nuts Off… by Tamara Berkovitch," the tattooed one offered, crossing her arms and staring Fenris down.

"Tsk, tsk," Fenris said, shaking his head. "Sore loser."

When did he make friends? And how?

"Is Hawke in this book club?" Anders asked.

"Who's Hawke?" the Rivaini asked.

"My… girlfriend," Fenris said.

"Wait… the Hawke?" another Kirkwaller said, rising from her seat.

"Mona, be cool," Tamara said, then looked puzzled at Fenris. "You have a girlfriend?"

"You're banging a human noble? That's funny," Bonnie said, laughing. "We have it coming." She raised her glass to the Rivaini. "Don't we, Lena?"

"Mhm," Lena grumbled.

Anders looked at Fenris, quite activated.

"What?" Fenris said.

Fucking slap him! Justice shouted.

"Why don't they know you have a girlfriend?" Anders asked bluntly.

"Because I barely know them?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.

"He's super new. And doesn't talk much," Bonnie said, drinking.

"He's talking our ear off now," Lena said, smirking.

The girls laughed.

"I am very drunk," Fenris said.

Maybe it was nothing. It just felt… strange. He'd made it very clear he didn't want to meet new people or talk to anyone if he didn't have to. But then again, he was full of surprises lately.

"If anyone is looking for a mate, this one's a doctor. And…" Fenris said, drawing around in the air towards Anders, thinking. "A feminist."

"Oo. A doctor!" Bonnie said enthusiastically.

"Feminist," Tamara said, rolling her eyes.

"What kind of doctor?" Mona asked.

"A… general physician," Anders said, clearing his throat.

"Ah, man. Uni of Orlais?" Bonnie said excitedly.

"Yep," Anders lied.

"Up top!" Bonnie said, high-fiving him. "Go Lions!"

"I don't trust feminist men," Tamara said, crossing her arms.

"Why not?" Fenris asked.

"They talk the talk. Patriarchy. Hegemony of power. Empowerment. Equality this, equality that. 'I like eating pussy, actually'. But do they walk the walk?" Tamara said confidently. "Am I right, or am I right, ladies?"

The ladies were unsure.

"I do not talk much, but I walk a great deal," Fenris said.

"Who wears the trousers in your relationship, then?" Lena teased.

Fenris looked down at himself. "We both wear trousers."

"That's what they all say," Tamara teased.

"Ugh. Fuck trousers," Bonnie said drunkenly.

"I don't…" Fenris said with a questioning look towards Anders.

"She's asking who's in charge," Anders explained.

"No one's… 'in charge'," Fenris said uncomfortably.

"Not even in the bedroom?" Anders teased him. "You seem the type."

He was starting to look really tense.

"Don't even get me started on that," Tamara said, rolling her eyes.

"Alright… enough…" Mona said sternly. "Just because he's a man, doesn't mean he's got more armour or some shit."

They all looked at her.

"You bitches have been in the club a long time, and forgot what's it like when you're new," Mona scolded them with a finger. "Have some Maker-damned compassion! And man."

"What did I do?" Anders said, confused.

"You piled on!" Mona said, pointing at him sternly.

"I'm… confused," Anders said.

Fenris had no inclination to weigh in. There was a silence. "Where's Lia?" he said finally.

"Pfft. She's like twelve," Lena said, rolling her eyes. "No one's letting her in here."

"Her father doesn't like humans much, anyway. Keeps her in the Alienage," Bonnie said, brushing it off. "You know how they are. They stick to their own kind."

"Do I know that?" Fenris said sulkily.

Bonnie's head fell down.

"Another sovereign in the racism jar," Lena demanded.

Bonnie slid a sovereign towards Fenris. "This ally thing is costing me a fortune," she grumbled.

"I don't want your guilt money," Fenris said flatly, sliding it back to her.

"Trust me. Take it. She needs to learn," Lena insisted, sliding it back to him.

"It's patronising," Fenris said, flicking it back to Bonnie.

"Think of it as reparations," Bonnie offered, smiling. "For when my people enslaved your people."

"Oh, boy…" Anders said, slouching in his chair.

Seems only fair, Justice said, waking up.

Shut up, Justice.

"Right… just… casually throwing that out there…" Fenris said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, they're all dead now. Whom else am I supposed to throw it to?" Bonnie said.

"Perhaps not to the very much alive former slave," Fenris said, glowering at her.

There was general stunned silence.

"Shit," Tamara said flatly.

"Like… former Qunari?" Lena asked, worried.

"Tevinter," Fenris said flatly, which sent shivers around the table.

"Fuuuck me…" Bonnie said, rubbing her forehead. "How much for that?"

Lena didn't even know. There was a silence. "Well… we're at a Hightown bar during comedy night," she said, raising her hands ceremoniously. "If it wasn't going to get uncomfortable and offensive here, where else?"

Fenris brooded. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm too drunk to overthink this…"

Bonnie slid the sovereign to him.

"Buy me a drink. It feels… less creepy," Fenris said, holding out his palm.

"Good shout," Bonnie said, leaving for the bar.

I don't understand! Justice snapped in frustration.

Anders leaned in towards Fenris. "I'm definitely going to overthink this."

Fenris drank, wobbled, and shook his index finger at him approvingly. "You do that for me."

"You don't have to pick my nose," Anders said, pulling his face away. "I'll do it for free."

"Free!" Fenris shouted, showing his middle fingers to… no one in particular, and leaning back victoriously.

Anders chuckled to himself, and raised his glass. "To freedom."

Fenris stared at him, rocking. He glanced at his wrist. Perhaps because a pinky-promise from mages that they won't rule over him wasn't enough. Wait… where did that empathy come from?

Beats me, Justice said.

"To freedom!" the girls toasted.

"To freedom," Fenris said finally. He banged his drink down and spilled everywhere.

"So…" Anders said, smiling and shrugging. "Who here likes cats?"

Anders went on talking to the book club, while the newest member took a little nap. Fucker was all high and mighty and 'concerned' over his drinking, when he didn't even know how to pace himself.

"But enough about Andraste's faithful fighter clones," the comedian said. "Let's talk about the real elephant in the room," she said, nodding ominously. "Blood mages."

Fenris's ear twitched upwards.

"They ruin it for everybody, am I right?" the comedian said with an arm in the air. "Can't throw a rock in any direction in Kirkwall these days without hitting a blood mage."

That was an exaggeration. There've been maybe four cases.

"Now, I don't really have dreams… asleep or… in life," the comedian said, walking along. "But sitting around with no patrons in sight, your mind wanders. You start to think about other people's lives, and if you think hard enough, at some point you might get a case of accidental empathy. Like how does it work, being a mage? Do you just walk around all day in the Gallows getting annoyed by the slave statues, by the mean, glaring stormtroopers, by your fellow mages that promised it was Casual Friday and you lost yard privileges for showing clavicle? Do you look over the triple-barred window, and wonder 'Do I even have a purpose in life? I can't go anywhere, I can't have my own home, I can't have kids, I can't bang Lisa in Defense Against Maleficarum either 'cause Andraste cries when lesbians kiss! Like how do you not cut your wrists EVERY. DAY?'"

Tamara and Anders laughed.

"Then you go to sleep and instead of getting a respite from the pain of living, a nice pitch-black slice of sweet nothingness to break you from the agony… you get demons talking to you. Demons conjuring up images of what you dare not dream—Lisa sitting on your face, getting vengeance on a handsy Templar or coming to the Rooftop Rumpus Room to see the funniest comedian on Thedas, after six or seven Vodka Highballs."

Fenris started chuckling, but he couldn't keep his head up or his eyes open.

"How many years does it take to snap?" the comedian asked. "I mean, in my case, it took twenty-six years of scraping nug shit of the boots of my betters with no ounce of dignity or respect and no chance of moving up in society; nodding and smiling and bending the knee and NOT. FUCKING. LISA!" she snapped, bending forward as she walked.

"Who in the Void is Lisa?" Fenris mumbled.

"We all have a Lisa," Tamara said bittersweetly.

"Mhm," Anders said lowly. His Lisa was Hawke, and he hated that every day. She rejected him, and it hurt. It would have hurt less if she really had no attraction to him, but he wasn't stupid. Her eyes lingered sometimes, and the hugs were a little too long. It was about her 'principles', she said, because merging with spirits was wrong and it all smelled like a bizarre, abusive relationship. Then a few years went by and she bedded the mage-hating fascist. So, obviously, she knew what she was talking about.

"Armchair socialists complain about Hightown and Lowtown, but you ain't seen nothing compared to Diamond City and Dust Town and the unbending caste system down below. Without those psychopaths up in Tevinter, Orzammar would look bad."

"Truth," Fenris said with his eyes closed.

"Here you've got freer markets, five thousand choices of pets, refugees turning into nobles, and if you can swallow your pride and nod along when people call you 'roommates', you can fuck someone who looks like Lisa any day of the year!"

Fenris and Anders laughed. They looked at each other as they did, a natural instinct. It didn't mean anything, he thought. They will wake up tomorrow hating each other, as per usual.

"But I didn't get here easily. I had to 'snap'. I had to snap, and smear nug shit all over King Bhelen's portrait, piss on a Paragon's statue and break a homophobe's legs! Then they gave me the boot up to the surface, and I felt I could finally breathe. Best thing that ever happened to me," the comedian said sternly. She looked in the other direction. "And I know what would have happened if I hadn't 'snapped'. I'd have actually snapped. I'd have cut my wrists and numbed myself out, I'd have broken that homophobe's skull. I'd have said, 'Fuck it. What do I have to lose right now? My life? It sucks. I'm at the bottom of the castes! My freedom? I refer you to my earlier statement. My self-respect? I don't even know how to spell that! What else? My morals? I don't have morals. I have fear of punishment and blue labia!'"

They laughed again, and Fenris tried to sit up straight.

"So sometimes, when it's quiet, and no one's looking… I day drink and my mind wanders… I think… Shit. How do the mages get through the day with no alcohol? How do they get through the night with demons tempting them with happiness? They say it's for their own good, that they need to be good Andrastians, that their bodies need to remain pure, that their brains are operating heavy magical machinery and there's no break from that, no serah! But if you ask me… being locked up and not being able to drink makes you wanna drink. A lot. Or cut your wrists, to feel something. Or get some love from a demon, because you're so lonely. Then it all goes downhill from there."

"Truth," Anders said, nodding.

"You don't want it to get that far, but no one wants to talk to you at this point because you're depressing, so you start hanging out with the rest of the weirdos nobody likes, and…" the comedian said, shrugging, "…they don't seem to give a shit if they live or die, so you sneak out of the Circle together for a night of fun, right? You pickpocket some noble with magic they taught you when you were ten, go to the Hanged Man or some other local watering hole where nobody cares who you are; you realise there is a man there masturbating in front of everyone to a tomato and you're still the most unadapted weirdo in the joint, and you don't know how to talk to people. You have a drink and a laugh and you forget your troubles for an hour. In fact, you're drunk immediately because you never had an ounce your whole life. You meet a pretty girl that looks like Lisa and, contrary to original Lisa, she likes weirdos, so you bang in the loo while a queue forms and curses you in every language. You gain confidence you've never had before and go to Hightown to party like the cool kids. You're jumping and singing and dancing and you just learned the word 'happy'. Then the Templars come to collect you and you look at the scars on your wrist and you think… 'Fuck it. What do I have to lose right now? My life? It sucks. I'm locked up forever. My freedom? I refer you to my earlier statement. My self-respect? Andraste frowns on that. My morals? I don't have morals. I have fear of punishment and I just came five times! I'm not going back!"

Tamara and Anders were having a ball, and contrary to expectations, Fenris was laughing.

"So, you know, even though I've got roaring neck pain and I'll never get a good view of a parade and I'm at eye-level with every guy's crotch, all in all… I'm glad I'm a dwarf and I don't have to worry about all that. I'm glad I can drink and sleep through the night and cuddle my 'roommate' and go outside and blather social commentary to a bunch of drunken strangers as if I know what I'm talking about!"

Fenris laughed and pointed at Anders. "Some even do it for free."

"Ha! Like you ever shut up!" Anders said, laughing.

Bonnie snorted. "This guy?" she said, pointing towards Fenris.

"You just haven't discovered his favourite topics yet," Anders said, amused.

"My favourite topic—" Fenris said, raising a finger and brooding, "—is birds, and their mating rituals."

"Birds?" Anders said, scoffing.

"And their mating rituals," Fenris added.

"So, you're just a nerd in spiky armour," Anders teased him.

"You like cats," Fenris said, looking at him up and down. "Like that's cool."

When the dancer came on stage, Lena stood up. "Time to go, ladies. We'll drop Bonnie off first."

"Please," Bonnie said tiredly.

"Oh, come on!" Tamara whined.

"I thought you were a radical feminist," Lena said, raising an eyebrow.

"A sex-positive one," Tamara clarified.

"Fine. Stay. Watch a woman undress with two other men."

"Ugh… no."

"I thought so."

"Maybe we should go, too," Fenris said to Anders.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right behind you," Anders said, not moving or taking his eyes away from the woman.

"Bye, honey. See you at the club," Lena said, smirking. "Bye, man."

"Bye, man," Bonnie said, winking at Anders.

"Bye," Fenris said.

"B-bye!" Anders said. "Honey?" he said to him, raising an eyebrow.

"She calls everyone honey. Also…" Fenris said, opening his palm. "What about me suggests to you I am not made out of honey?"

"Just… everything," Anders said, chuckling.

The woman on stage had quite the moves, and less clothes on.

Nice, Anders thought.

This does nothing for me, Justice said.

"So, this doesn't do anything for you?" Anders asked.

Fenris shook his head.

"Not even a little?"

Fenris stared at the dancer, or perhaps brooded in her unfortunate direction. "The… choreography is nice?"

"What if she had red hair and Hawke's body type?" Anders offered.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. "I… hadn't considered that."

Anders chuckled. "Well, I know who I'm bringing for your stag do."

Why did he say that? That was an awful thought. But he felt fuzzy and warm and drunk and his nice side was making him say stupid shit.

"What makes you think you'd be invited?" Fenris said.

"Hawke might make a fuss," Anders said, shrugging. Maker, why did he bring this up? He was so stupid. A pit opened up in his stomach. He didn't want to go anywhere, not even in his imagination.

"Hawke would make a fuss about the very notion of gender-segregated parties. She would spend an hour on the nomenclature alone."

Anders laughed. "True. She'd make a sten do, then complain all night that people are calling it an engagement party."

Fenris chuckled. "Or she would make me party with the girls while she parties with the boys, and then we'd meet halfway through the night."

"Or she wouldn't do any of it, because she'd burn out from overthinking it," Anders said, snickering.

"Either way, I would have no say in it," Fenris said, chuckling.

"Wouldn't that bother you?"

"It would be my choice." He raised an eyebrow. "A wise choice."

"You just don't want to bother with people."

"Less is more."

"Then why did you join a book club?"

Fenris inhaled deeply. "Because when I joined the anti-social club, no one met for a year."

Anders laughed. "You were vehemently against making new contacts. What changed?"

Fenris inhaled again, and sighed. "Mental health."

"But I thought you said more people would be bad for your health."

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

"This is not your concern."

"I am a doctor, right? I need to learn."

"You are a doctor of bile and viscera, not of the head."

"True. I'd make a bad head doctor. Mine's a bloody circus."

I heard that, Justice said sullenly.

Fenris chuckled. "You have competition."

Night time, Fenris's Mansion

Fenris went in his bedroom, and forgot how he arrived there. Hawke was waiting in bed with a book. It was… nice. Even as they got busier, they still wanted to be together at the end of the day. He was relieved to see he was not the only one.

"Where were you? It's like… 2 AM or something."

Fenris wobbled towards the bed and fell on it face-down.

"We got very… very drunk," his voice came muffled.

"Did you bang it out?"

"Yes… we banged on top of the Chantry and everyone applauded."

"OH. MY. MAKER!" Hawke said, tapping the bed. "Killer epilogue!"

Fenris laughed. "I am absolutely broken no one is going to see it," he said, face-planting away.

"So, you found a way to get along."

He nodded silently in the blanket.

"Yay!" Hawke said, clapping. "How'd you manage that?"

"Comedy," his voice came muffled.

The sound of crickets outside became more salient. "Any… follow-up details?"

He started snoring softly.

She laughed. "Alright, then."