Nero woke to the sounds of a yell and a crash, which was quickly followed by more sounds of things breaking. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern he sat up and forced himself out of the warmth of his bed. Opening the door to his bedroom he glanced down the hall, golden light told him it was very early in the morning. He followed the noises as they led him to the main hall and up the stairs to Fenris' room, forgetting to put on a shirt in his haste. Along the way he checked the front door and the boarded windows for signs of forced entry but found none.
He stepped back when he heard glass break against the other side of Fenris' door and watched as a dark liquid seeped under it, the scent of red wine filling his nostrils. Curses were snarled and growled on the other side of the door in Tevinter, the sound of wood splintering occasionally joining it.
Slowly Nero opened the door and silently stepped around the glass just as Fenris punched a hole through the wall. The elf stood next to the table, which was currently upside down and surrounded by broken wine bottles. One of the chairs that used to stand with it was by the window on it's side, a crack trailing through the center of it so that it would be lopsided even if it was stood up right. As for the other chair, broken pieces of it could be seen in different corners of the room; a leg sticking out of the fireplace, half of the seat at the foot of the bed, etc.
And Fenris was glowing in the center of it all, the lines of his tattoo's visible through the cloth that wasn't covered in his armor. His hair was a mess and Nero could see a few bruises sprouting and red bite marks on his neck.
Over the course of the time Nero had known the elf he found there was a slight difference between when his tattoo's glowed because of emotion or if they glowed because he was going to rip someone's organs from their body. The glow was more of a crisp white in battle but it was a duller blueish color when he was angry...Nero couldn't quite recall a time the tattoo's had glowed from any emotion other than anger.
Right now the elf was emitting a fairly strong blue glow, one that seemed to get dimmer when he yelled. He pulled his fist from the wall as Nero closed the door with a barely audible click, plaster flying in all directions as it was shaken loose from where it had gotten stuck in his gauntlets. Fenris whirled in the direction of the door at the noise, the light coming from him brightening, causing Nero to flinch as his eyes tried to adjust.
Nero noted that despite looking in his direction, Fenris' eyes were not truly seeing. The man was lost in his own anger, blind to his surroundings as the memories he could remember were racing through his mind. It had started with ways Denarius had taken advantage of him, the way the magister grew more and more curious about the bodies reactions to certain...less than pleasant stimuli. Now, though, now Fenris was remembering all of the things he had done at the word of his master. He was angry at himself for ever having been so weak that he begged for Denarius, killed for Denarius, served for Denarius, cried for Denarius. Fenris had not cried since, letting his anger overpower every other emotion he had. He wanted to, but he would not cry now either, he was not that weak. He felt a constriction in his throat, and in response he snarled and threw the bottle he felt in his hand towards the sound he barely registered hearing moments before.
Stepping forward Nero caught the bottle before it could collide with him and set it on the floor. He quickly strode towards Fenris and before the elf could react he wrapped his fingers around the exposed flesh of his upper arms. "Fenris," Nero began, "What-"
The room was nearly plunged into darkness when the elf suddenly stopped glowing. When Nero's eyes re-adjusted to the low light he saw that green orbs were focusing on his face. The other man's features easing from an impenetrable anger to an uncontrollable sadness. Nero watched as Fenris' eyes seemed to suddenly flood with tears that needed to be shed. With a choked sob the tears spilled over and Fenris fell to his knees, bringing Nero with him.
Skin touching his had shattered the blood-red rage that was keeping him stable and standing. Instead of recoiling from touch as he usually did he felt as though the fingers around his arms were emitting warmth instead of the pain that he had come to expect from touch. The shock of it, the suddenness of it, broke him. Suddenly the brick wall his anger had erected around his hurt was gone and inside was glass, and shards were falling away like ice falls from an iceberg. And he could not stop it, he did not have time to push the bricks back into place. He barely recognized surprise on the face of the person holding him and he did not feel his knees hit the floor as his vision blurred.
He did not realize that he was leaning into the touch until there was a collarbone against his temple and his cheek was resting on the other man's chest. A very distant part of his mind told him to push away and get up but it was overpowered by the warmth emanating from Nero's skin. Slowly the warmth enveloped him as Nero wrapped his arms around Fenris' shoulders and pulled him a little bit closer.
Fenris' shock was quickly shoved aside as he closed his eyes and bit his lip to try and stop the sounds tearing from his throat. His arms hung limply at his side, fists clenching when his sobs felt like they would turn into screams. He turned his head and pressed his face against Nero's neck, trying to hide his eyes from the light.
Nero did not speak, despite the questions he had. Fenris was so strong, he was proud and he was smart and he was a bit of an ass. He was angry, and he thrived off his anger. He had every right to be angry. Nero had only known Denarius for a week, Fenris had been his slave for years. He did not know much about the elf's experience and he never asked. If Fenris had successfully turned everything he felt about his life as a slave into anger then who was Nero to question that. Sure Fenris had some quirks due to his previous life, such as his aversion to touch, but he survived in spite of it. Nero was ashamed of his life as a slave, he was ashamed that he was a slave, and he tried to hide it and hide from it. But Fenris looked that life in the face and said 'Fuck you' and Nero admired him for that, was jealous of him for that.
And yet, that strong man who would not fall in the shadow of slavery, the man who successfully strived past it. That was not the same man who was crying into Nero's chest, who was choking and gasping and trying so very hard not to make much noise. I was wrong, Nero thought, I have seen only what I wanted to see. I have only seen what he wanted me to see. I was a fool.
So Nero held him, and he did not move even when his knees began to ache and his muscles began to strain against the position. He did not complain about the tears falling down his stomach, nor about the snot that was probably smeared across his neck. He rested his cheek against Fenris' hair and he waited for the sobs that were wracking the elf's body to subside, and the tears to stop.
The sun was completely risen when they did, sometime during the morning Nero had sat back onto his feet, and Fenris had sat himself on his hip between his legs. Fenris no longer hid in Nero's neck, instead the side of his face rested against his naked chest, his head under Nero's chin. Nero had the elf encircled in his arms, one supporting his back and one laying across his chest, his hands folded and wresting just above Fenris' hip.
Fenris had been quiet for some time now, and Nero knew they couldn't stay on the floor forever. Gently he propped the elf up so that he was sitting, his eyes held shadows of misery, and instead of looking at Nero they looked at his own gauntleted hands that rested loosely in his lap. Nero glanced where Fenri's shoulder had been pressing against him and was glad to see that there wasn't any blood from the elf's armor.
Slowly Nero took Fenris's gauntlets off, keeping his gaze on the elf's face for any sign of, well...anything really. But there was nothing to see while Nero unlatched the clasps holding the armor to his arms, the ones that kept the pauldrons together in the back and the ones holding the breastplate and the backplate together. Careful not to accidentally stab the man in the face with the metal feathers adorning the shoulders Nero pulled it over his head and set it gently on the floor beside the gauntlets. Lastly he took off Fenris' utility belt, leaving the elf in his leggings and tunic.
Sitting back with his legs folded under him Nero studied the elf. He found himself wondering if the elf had actually cracked or if there was a trust here that he had not been aware of. Nero may not have known Fenris as long as the others had, but he had never been lead to believe by any of them that Fenris easily showed any signs of vulnerability. Fenris rarely even spoke when people were around that he did not know or trust. When Anders or Merril was around he didn't say anything unless it was to snap at them or he was asked a question.
Nero knew that Fenris was not uncomfortable around him, but he hadn't exactly spilled deep dark secrets. He shared as much information with Nero as he did with Hawke or Isabela. Fenris was almost...predictable. Everyone knew what would make him angry or what he would agree with, he openly shared his views on important matters...
But the man sitting before him, blinking at his armor on the floor...this was not something he could have predicted. Nero had heard the elf throwing and breaking things in his room before, so he knew that Fenris obviously had moments where he couldn't control himself. That was normal, and he generally ignored it. But to let himself go so completely in front of someone, Nero frowned, especially someone he hadn't known half as long as he knew Hawke and the others...what could have caused...
Nero shook his head and stood, his knees cracking and causing him to wince as he did. Slowly Fenris looked up at him, his eyes so red rimmed that the green stood out like a beacon. Expressionless Nero offered him a hand, confusion flickered across the elf's face before he reached up and took it, allowing Nero to pull him to his feet.
Fenris felt empty, he felt nothing. He let Nero help him up, knowing that any other time he would have scorned the offer of assistance. This is not like any other time. Of course it wasn't. The last time he had cried had been at the feet of Denarius, and like every time before then that he had cried he was insulted and emasculated and he always forced himself to stop. There were a few times, not many, that other salves were around when he was weeping. The pity they had was almost as bad as the insults.
He had expected Nero to tell him to stop, to tell him he was being a child. When that didn't happen he remembered how he had seen others comforted when they were crying and expected Nero to speak to him in a voice full of pity and say 'it'll all be alright.'
But the other man didn't do that either. He hadn't said anything through all of it. And now he was leading Fenris to his bed, pulling the blankets away and lightly pushing on his shoulder to get him to sit down. Fenris obeyed and quietly watched as Nero walked to the fire and stoked it, then picked a dirty shirt up off the floor and quickly used it to wipe away the mess on his shoulder and chest. That's embarrassing, Fenris thought, but he did not feel it.
Nero quietly walked back to where Fenris was sitting on his bed and knelt down so that their faces were level. The seconds stretched by and Fenris watched Nero as Nero seemed to search his face for something. Finally he seemed to reach a decision and, standing, he strode to the door and locked it. Fenris turned his gaze to his own hands again, the faintest echo of confusion nagging him. He frowned and laid down, curling into a ball on his side, dragging the blankets up to cover him. He twitched in surprise at the sudden dip in the mattress behind him and felt Nero slide beneath the sheets.
Later Fenris would be surprised he didn't push the other man out of the bed, or jump out himself. That he was not angry or wary of the intrusion. It was a testament to the state he was in that he stayed silent. He didn't even protest when Nero forced his way into the ball he had become to pull him closer. He didn't say a word as his back met the other man's chest and an arm reached around and fingers limply wrested against his wrist where he kept his hand under the pillow. A shin forced its way between his, and he jumped a little at how cold the other man's foot was. He felt a smirk on the face that was pressed against the back of his neck, and he realized that he had never had this much of his body touching someone else before, not even earlier when he had been with Hawke. It only left him even more confused.
Nero had started to doze when he heard Fenris speak, even though he mumbled his voice was raspy.
"Why?" he asked.
It was the first word said in hours. He opened his eyes and lay his head back in the pillow as he carefully considered the question, there were many things that he could be asking about and he did not want to assume anything. He had already learned today that his assumptions were not necessarily accurate.
"Why what?" he responded just as quietly.
Fenris didn't reply right away, and Nero had begun to think that he wasn't going when he said "you haven't even asked what happened."
Nero closed his eyes and gave a small shrug, his reply muffled as he spoke into the back of Fenris' neck, "you'll tell me if and when you want to."