The air crackled with the familiar sound of lighting summoned by magic. The wine had dulled his reflexes somewhat but he still managed to avoid the attack by throwing himself to the side, landing awkwardly behind his bed. His elbow and knee would be bruised in the morning.
The lightning bolt hit the broken mirror instead, sending myriads of shards flying. When Fenris raised his head to glower at his attacker over the edge of his mattress, he noticed with grim satisfaction that the apostate had several cuts on his hands and a particular nasty gash across his nose and cheek. Blood was covering almost the entire left side of his face but he was already healing himself. Too bad, 'put in your place' was a good look on the mage.
'You reap what you sow,' Fenris said with a chuckle in his voice as he got up and approached his uninvited guest.
Anders shot him a glare in response. Strands of his hair had gotten stuck to the blood as if he had a bizarre facial tattoo to match Fenris' own lyrium markings.
Amber and blood and red-gold hair falling... No, he didn't want to remember that! But it was already coming.
Fenris looked into amber coloured eyes that stared at him in disbelieve and something else that he had never seen before. Later he would learn to recognise it as betrayal by someone you thought was a friend.
xXx
That hadn't gone according to plan.
Anders frowned at his hands and only realised the cuts on his face when blood dripped onto his coat sleeve. He touched the left side of his face and swore. It was vain perhaps to summon healing magic for such minor injuries but he told himself he didn't want to risk infection. Here was one bloody elf who had apparently never even heard of house cleaning.
Fenris had ducked behind his bed and avoided the worst of the blast. Lucky bastard.
'You reap what you sow,' the other's voice rumbled with dark amusement that made Anders want to zap him all over again but given his own luck tonight he settled for a glare instead.
When his amber met sylvan green Fenris stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes became huge and unfocused, almost panicked. Anders watched the other's mouth open in what looked like a silent scream. The markings on Fenris' skin seemed to pulse with the waves of agony that crossed his features.
The healer felt his own wave of anxiety at the display. Fenris was clearly in some kind of pain and Anders instinctively wanted to help but also because the elf was a viscous killer who at the moment was not in control of his own strength and he had shed enough blood for one evening.
'What's going on? Are you hurt?' Anders asked not daring to get any closer.
'You... That did not happen... I would never...,' Fenris stuttered in Arcanum, his eyes still huge and unfocused but the expression was so unguarded and pained it was enough for the mage to lower his defence.
A mistake, because the elf must have read his body language and used the opportunity to charge at him. For the third time this night Anders back made painful contact with the stone walls. And for the second time he had his arms full of Fenris.
But before Anders could say, 'Oh, I'm not falling for that again,' Fenris' lips found his in a bruising kiss.