Anders had tried the front door and found it unlocked. For a paranoid ex-slave, the broody elf was very lax with his security. Anyone could march in here.

The mage closed the door behind him with a soft thud before he took a few hesitant steps into the darkness. Something crunched under Anders' feet as he made his way towards the main hall. Glass?

Bright blue light almost blinded him as he was about to cross over the threshold. For a split second Anders feared an Arcane Horror had appeared, possessing one of the neglected corpses that Fenris left rotting around the house. It had happened before. But before the mage could even summon Rock Armour to defend himself a grip like a vice wrapped around his throat and hauled him into and across the large room.

Light streamed through an open door from the upper floor, illuminating the skid marks Anders had left in the dusty floor. Out of reflex he twisted his upper body, staff ready and summoned Winter's Grasp to freeze his attacker in place. He missed.

No, not missed. The creature of blue light phased right through the ice, solidifying in front of Anders' eyes.

'FENRIS! IT'S ME!'

'Yes, I know!' The elf growled back, grabbing the mage by his coat and dragging him to his feet before he gave him a rough shove. The edge of the stone bannister dug painfully into Anders' kidney but at least it prevented him from landing on his arse.

'Maker's breath, you scared me shitless!' Anders gasped.

'Arrogant fool, you broke into my house. You are lucky that Hawke considers you too useful to discard – yet. Now get out!' Fenris snarled at the intruder. Without waiting whether Anders acquiesced his request he walked back up the stairs without so much as another glance at the other man.

Anders retort, 'But I just got here,' was drowned out by the upstairs door banging shut, leaving the mage in the dark again.

xXx

Magister

The man in his memory, the man who was like Anders and not Anders, the first person who had ever made him feel cherished for who he was and not what he was, that man had been a mage. Fenris felt it in his very bones that it was nothing but the truth. He couldn't remember much beyond that and it seemed pointless to try.

He felt cheated by his own past. Magic had tainted everything, coloured his life in harsh hues of lyrium and blood and pain. How could he reconcile this with the fact that he had ever loved a mage? And in return how could his lover have allowed Danarius to violate his skin and soul like he had?

Although Tevinter magisters enslaved their own kind, Fenris didn't get the feeling the other had been a slave as well. How much time had passed between his memory and the ritual that had branded the lyrium into his flesh? Had his lover betrayed him, used and discarded him like a toy that had lost its appeal? Or had he fought for him and lost?

He needed to stop! Too many unanswered questions and no matter how much he tried he always ended up with the fact that he had loved someone who embodied everything he hated and that it didn't matter in the end because he was here now, free from his chains but utterly alone.

Fenris had tried to drown the memory in vintages but when that plan had failed miserably, he had gone for bathing his sadness. He had just opened his third bottle when he heard the crunching of glass under worn boots even through the haze of his wine-soaked mind.

Hawke had once asked what he did with all the smashed up bottles as he worked himself methodically through his former master's wine cellar. He had explained that apart from giving him something to smash the shards also made an excellent warning system. She had made a point of knocking ever since.

Apparently she hadn't shared that bit of information with the abomination though. Fenris recognised him even in the dim light that spilled out of his room behind him.

If he was here that could only mean one thing and Fenris was not going to have that conversation, ever!

xXx

After he had made his point, hopefully scaring the other enough to take the hint and leave, he returned to his room and the open bottle of red.

He should have known better.

Before Fenris even got a taste of the wine, Anders walked into the room. 'I think we need to talk!'

Fenris retort died in his throat. Sylvan green searched for amber eyes, half hidden behind bangs of red-gold hair.