INTRODUCTIONS

They were awakened a few hours later by Mistress. Fenris had a brief moment of panic. Where was he? Had they fallen asleep in Master Danarius' bed? He shot awake, shared a glance with Anders, and then they were out of the bed. As quickly as they could manage, in their fatigue, they knelt before her, in sync, faces to the floor and arms outstretched.

There was no sound for a moment. Then, a man's voice spoke, "Fasta vass! Evie, they're nothing but skin and bones!" Fenris quailed inside. This must be their new Master. And, already he was displeased with them.

Then, Mistress' voice spoke, "Hush, Dorian! You'll frighten them. Fenris, Anders?" They sat up in unison, eyes cast to the floor. "Don't kneel to us in this household. And, you can look at us."

Both men raised their eyes in the quick, oblique slave's glance. Before dropping their eyes to the floor again, Fenris got an impression of a young man with dark hair and a confident stance. Mistress stood beside Master.

"Come to the table, it's time for more food and drink. How do you feel?"

As they stood, movements fluid and synchronized, if a bit slow from weakness, Fenris answered her. "Better, Mistress." They walked to the chairs at the table, Anders slightly behind, and sat. Fenris again pulled his chair against Anders'. They both had more strength, now, after food and rest. They passed a bowl between them, drinking the porridge from its edge. The porridge was nothing like the gruel they had received in their cell. This was fine, smooth, lightly sweetened. The juice was light, and felt good going down their throats. They were quickly full, and dropped their gazes to the table, waiting.

Mistress asked them questions about their health and how they felt. Fenris answered all the questions, even those directed to Anders.

"Fenris, why do you speak for Anders?"

"He is my slave, Mistress."

"How is that?"

"Master Danarius gave him to me, Mistress."

"Are you both happy with that arrangement?"

"If Mistress is happy with it, we are happy with it."

"Of course, you are." She paused in thought. "You don't need to call me 'Mistress.' My name is Evelyn Trevelyan. Eve, is fine."

The man spoke, then. "Allow me to introduce myself... I am Dorian Pavus, and you are guests in my home. What you do here will depend entirely upon you, but that's a discussion for another time.

"I count Varric Tethras among my select friends. He has told me many tales of the two of you. Including how you came to fall under Danarius' control. He's spent the past four years or so searching for you."

Fenris was surprised to hear this. He remained silent. Slaves spoke when told to, or when asked a direct question.

"Danarius made you a Matched Set, didn't he?"

"Yes, Master."

"Unusual pairing. You're not expected to act as a Set, here. You're not even expected to be slaves. However, certain powers in the Magisterium would like to take possession of Fenris, were he free. You're both safer under ownership of House Pavus, for now."

Fenris didn't know that being under Master Dorian's ownership was any better than being under another Master's. Although, at the least for now, he and Anders were together. Unless... Master said they were not to be a Matched Set. Did that mean they would be separated? He was having trouble understanding all that Master Dorian was saying. Hopefully, Anders was following better than he, and could explain it, later.

"Can you tell me what happened to Danarius? His entire estate is in shambles. His situation was decidedly foul."

Fenris was cautious. Speaking of Masters was treacherous territory. "Master Danrius was ill, Master."

"Yes. Well. That much was clear." Fenris had been casting glances at Master Dorian as he spoke. Their new Master was bold; in his manner, his speech, and his bearing. He was very young, with jet black hair and a curling mustache.

Mistress spoke then. She told them that she and Master would both retire for the night, but that food would continue to be brought for them every few hours. If they needed anything, there were servants outside the door.

Both Mistress and Master stood, and surprised them by bidding them goodnight. Then, they were left alone, again.

Fenris and Anders looked at each other. Sitting in chairs at a table, bellies full, clean, healed... they were nonplussed. In just the past few hours, their world had been upended. Fenris knew that most people would celebrate in these circumstances. Fenris also knew better. All good things were followed by bad things. And, those bad things were followed by more bad things. The only good thing in his world was Anders.

Fenris was tired. He saw Anders' eyelids drooping. He finally stood, and led Anders to the bed, again. He tucked his mage into the silken sheets on the too-soft bed, wondering vaguely when they would be punished for sleeping there. He crawled in beside him.

"I feel like I'm in the Fade," Anders commented. "Nothing seems quite as I know it."

"I can't make heads or tails of our new Master," Fenris said. "Or, what's going to happen."

Anders' arms wrapped about Fenris' prominent ribs, and pulled him against him. He breathed Fenris' scent deeply, opening his mouth against his throat to taste his skin.

"I miss your scent. You smell like citrus and cloves."

Fenris was likewise burying his face in Anders' neck. "We both do." He continued to suck at Anders' skin, and finally, under the overlay of soap and scents, he found what he sought. Anders. His Anders. He sighed. For now, in the soft bed, in the dark and quiet, with full bellies, there was peace.

Three weeks later, both felt much stronger. Their duties had consisted of eating, sleeping, answering questions about their digestive tract, and eating some more. Even now, after several weeks of nearly solid sleep, fatigue continued to pull them to bed for frequent naps. Mistress monitored their intake, and changed their diet.

They'd been graduated to regular foods, which was novel in itself. They had subsisted on gruel and occasional scraps from Danarius' table for such a long time. Their jaws were sore, at first, from chewing solid foods. They'd also had to endure their bodies' adjustment to the new diet... running to the bathroom frequently as their overstimulated intestines moved things through too rapidly.

Using actual toilets, with plumbing, was surreal. Bathing when they wanted, and in warm water, was hard to get used to. They finally resorted to using a minimum of the soap and shampoo in the bath. Both were so heavily scented, it overrode important parts of their connection: taste and smell.

Both Master and Mistress had told them that they needn't refer to them as "Master" or "Mistress." They could call them Dorian and Evelyn. Neither Fenris nor Anders could bring themselves to do so. It had been a suggestion, not an order. Such familiarity was forbidden to slaves.

Master Dorian visited them regularly, which was confusing to both of them. He didn't command them. He asked questions, of their health, of their time in Kirkwall, of Danarius' decline. But, he also simply talked, as though they were company, and he their host, regaling them with stories of his day, or household events. He didn't comment when Fenris was unable to remember, or when it was simply too hard to speak. Master smoothly moved on, glossing over the uncomfortable subject. He spoke as though both Fenris and Anders were participants in the conversation; though the truth was, Anders rarely did more than listen.

Although Master came by frequently, it was Mistress Eve they saw the most. She was devoted as their healer, and checked their blood, their hearts, their pain and their elimination on a regular basis. She always explained everything she did, and why. Like Master, she was patient with them when answers were difficult. And, like Master, she never pushed Anders for participation. Fenris was more grateful for that, than anything else they did. Mistress used her healing magic not only for fresh ailments or injuries, but to feel for deeper, older ones.

"I can sense that you both have significant rectal scarring. It could make elimination difficult, or sexual activity painful. Healing magic won't rid scarring. But, I have a potion that will help internal adhesions resorb, and scar tissue soften."

They both listened with no sign of alarm. Modesty or secrets had not been allowed to them for some time.

"I can apply it for you, if you like. Or, would you rather apply put it on each other?"

"We can do it, Mistress."

"Alright. Twice daily, and after toileting." She handed him the jar.

"Fenris, I've noticed a lot of magic imbedded in your lyrium lines. Would you like me to see about removing it?"

"No, Mis-As Mistress wishes." He covered his lapse quickly.

"I caught that 'No'." She seemed rather pleased by it. "I'll leave it, for now. And, although you spend a lot of time sleeping, would you like something to do, in here? You've got to be bored. Something to read, maybe, or a deck of cards?"

Fenris was surprised. Although both he and Anders could read, it was not permitted for slaves. Was this a trick? He also couldn't see how they could be bored. Being fed, healed, together... it was paradise. At least, while it lasted. He betrayed none of those thoughts.

"As Mistress wishes."

"Of course," she said. She always seemed so unhappy when he said that. "I'll have something brought in." She looked at the room, with its bed, and a table with straight back chairs. "And, maybe some more comfortable seating."

When she left, Fenris was ready for another nap. He wondered if they would sleep the rest of their lives away. Anders suggested they use the potion, first. Lying on the bed, each coated a finger, and gently smoothed the greasy stuff into their internal tissue, feeling for the rough ridges of scarring. As Anders applied it to Fenris, his finger stroked over his prostate. Fenris jolted in surprise, grunting softly.

"Did that hurt?" Anders murmured, concerned.

"No... definitely not..." Anders did it again, slower.

Fenris shook with a delightful shiver. "What is that?" he asked in wonder.

Anders' mouth curved in a small smile. "That's your prostate... the sweet spot." He continued stroking him there. "You've never been touch-? No, of course not..."

Fenris was sinking into the sensation. He'd only felt arousal, without a terrible potion, one time in his life; in the cell, with Anders. This was... so good. He felt himself begin to harden.

Anders lay along his side, watching the elf's face bloom, carefully continuing his ministration. Fenris looked up at him with wistful eyes. "Anders? Love me..."

The mage's mouth curved in an indulgent smile. He was happy to oblige.

Soon, Fenris was panting, his arousal hard and weeping against his stomach as Anders' caress continued over his sweet spot. He turned his face into Anders' neck, sucking on the tender skin there, tasting him, smelling him, feeling the pleasure grow. So easy... it was so easy. No fear, no pain. Just delight.

Anders was gently relentless. His own body was responding to Fenris' pleasure, moving himself against the elf's hip. The suction on his neck turned into a deep bite as Fenris shuddered with pleasure, and reached his peak, body spending across his belly.

He heard Anders groan as the elf's teeth sank into his neck, felt the mage thrust against him. Fenris heard him gasp as he reached his own peak, and collapse against the elf. He pulled the panting mage to him. A defined bite mark graced Anders' neck. He ran his tongue over it.

"Did I hurt you...?"

Anders touched the mark, satisfaction in his expression. "No. You aroused me."

The pleasure had been unexpected. Sharing it with Anders was intensely satisfying. He felt a lessening of some of the anxiety they'd felt since arriving.

No one had demanded service from them, of any kind. Not as servants, not as body slaves. He had considered that serving Master Dorian might not be so bad. He was attractive, clean, and seemed kind under his pomposity. Mistress Eve was kind, too, though he had no idea how to pleasure a woman. Anders might... perhaps he should ask him, just in case. He hoped to avoid being ordered to perform that way. Sex meant pain and degradation. The only exceptions he'd ever experienced were the two blissful, private sharings he'd now had with his Anders.

Fenris curled around his mage, tired of thinking. They slept. Again.

When they awoke, they were surprised to see a couch had been brought into the room while they slept. The table now held two books, and a deck of Diamond Back cards. Fenris jumped up and ran to the table. He looked at the titles of the books. One was a book of Orlesian poetry, the other was Hard in Hightown, by Varric Tethras. He remembered Varric... but remembering too much was painful.

Fenris turned to Anders. "Will you read this to me?" he said, holding up the poetry book.

"Of course. Anything you want." He took the book, flipping the pages almost reverently. "It's been so long so I've seen a book." He glanced at the second book. "Not the other?"

"Not yet." Anders nodded in understanding.

When Master and Mistress quietly came into the room with supper, they found them on the couch. Anders was sitting with his back against the high armrest, legs stretched along the length of the couch. Fenris sat in the V of his legs, the book held upright on his lap. Anders read aloud, over the elf's shoulder, arms about Fenris' middle.

Master gave a refined clearing of the throat. Both turned and sat up, in perfect synchrony, gazes dropped to the floor, book carefully set aside.

Master approached, as though to speak, and then his gaze narrowed onto Anders' neck. He reached to tilt Anders' head to the side. Both men twitched uncomfortably. It was the first time Master had shown a physical interest in them. "Now, then, what's this?" he asked softly, one finger tracing the bruised bite mark Fenris had left on Anders' neck. Anders pressed his lips together, face twitching with anxiety.

Fenris panicked inside. Slaves were generally forbidden to have intimacies with anyone other than their master. He had been careless. They would be punished. Maker, what had he been thinking? He hadn't been.

"Master, it's my fault. Forgive me." He fought the urge to go down on his knees. They'd been told not to kneel.

"This was your doing?" Master seemed surprised, though Fenris wasn't sure who else Master thought would leave a bite mark on Anders' neck.

"Yes, Master." He could feel Anders shaking beside him, knew his anxiety was growing. Master was watching Anders' reaction, frowning, thinking.

He turned and addressed Mistress. "You'll speak to Anders about this, if I speak to Fenris?"

"Absolutely."

"Fenris, join me, if you would, in..." Master looked about at the room's limitations. "Well, in the bathroom, I suppose."

Fenris and Anders shot each other glances. For nearly three years, they had been in constant contact. Never more than a few steps away, always in eyesight. Matched Sets didn't leave one another to go into a different room. The only security they had had since being Matched was each other's constant presence. The bathroom was so far from where Anders sat. In a still-strange place. And, Master seemed unhappy with them.

Even as Fenris resisted inside, he automatically stood to comply. "Master..." he began.

"We'll just have a quick word. Just in here," Master was moving to the adjoining bath chamber. Fenris began to follow, head turning to see Anders. The mage on the couch wore a mask of fear. Fenris couldn't believe he was walking away from Anders when he so obviously needed him. Their eyes stayed connected as Fenris followed Master through the doorway.

Master closed the door, and casually leaned back against it.

Anders was out of reach and out of sight. Fenris had no idea what was happening to his mage. This had been their greatest fear, all along. He dropped like a stone to his knees. Fenris knew better than to speak unless spoken to, yet his words flew from his lips. "Master... please forgive my actions. Please don't take him away... Punish me in any other way, I beg you!"

Master looked confused. "Take him away? Whatever are you on about?"

"Master... forgive me... we should not have done it... please don't take him away from me..." He struggled to keep his voice steady, to keep himself from losing control entirely and forcing his way past Master and back through the door.

Master was shaking his head. "Fasta vass... I only intend to ask you question. Anders isn't-"

Then, through the door, Fenris heard the muffled sound of Anders' frightened voice. He fell to his belly, and kissed Master's feet.

"Kaffas!" He pulled Fenris off of his belly. "Fenris, this is really-"

Fenris interrupted, talking fast to convince Master before any plans were carried-out. "Please Master... keep us together. We can pleasure you... we have been trained to do all things together... you would not regret it..." And, then, he lost all composure. Panicked tears fell. "Master. I can't live without him... He's everything. He's my all." He was looking directly at Master, through tear- filled eyes, with desperate appeal.

Master squatted down. He took Fenris' shoulders in his hands. "Kaffas... feel you shake." Master jerked a thumb in the direction of the other room. "He's right through that door!"

Fenris shook his head, desperately. He knew he was going to be punished for this unseemly display. He'd interrupted Master, looked him in the face, dared to show emotion.

Master continued. "I wouldn't normally be so blunt, but I see this requires quick-cutting. That bite mark... his fear... Did you have sex with Anders against his will?"

Against Anders' will? He began babbling. "Never, Master... I'm sorry we pleasured each other. We know better. We can be good slaves, Master, we can. We are. We just got confused. If Master brought him in here, right now...we could show you why we're together. We know how to please. We know how to accept pain." He could hear Anders crying. "Please... he's afraid..."

"You didn't command him? As your slave? It was consensual?"

The tears wouldn't stop, his voice was cracking, "I could never hurt my Anders, Master. Please... let me go to him."

Master was watching him, a sad, contemplative look on his face. He finally stood, and opened the door. "Go to your Anders."

Fenris leapt to his feet and raced across the room. Anders was prostrate on the floor, at Mistress' feet, sobbing. Fenris fell on him, pulling him up and against him, unheeding of Mistress, knowing only the need to comfort his mage.

Anders straddled his legs, wrapping his arms about Fenris' neck. "Fenris," he sobbed, "I was alone..."

"I'm sorry... I'm here... I'm here."

He held him, his lungs finally filling, his heart beating again. He supposed they'd only been apart a few moments, but it seemed an eternity. He dried his tears in the mop of Anders' hair. He breathed in his scent, felt his warmth, heard his hiccuping sobs. "Anders. I'm here. I have you. My Anders, my own self."

He rocked them, whispering in the mage's ear, squeezing him tightly against his body. He felt Anders' mouth lock on his neck, sucking, tasting, seeking comfort. Fenris cupped the mage's head, holding his mouth in place. He felt his own face contorting as he tried to bring his emotions under control. Anders... his Anders...

Anders' hand reached to stroke the elf's cheek, sliding across his lips. Fenris drew the fingers into his mouth, suckling them gently. He filled his senses with Anders, confirming that he was here, with him, in his arms. He would never leave him again... not even for a moment. Not even for Master.

He heard Master and Mistress speaking to each other. "Maker's mercy," he heard Mistress breathe, softly. "Dorian..."

"Yes, I know," Master answered. "He fell completely apart the moment the door closed. I've never seen anything like it. It was all I could do to get him to answer me. He insists he's never forced Anders. He begged forgiveness and assured me... repeatedly... that they could please me as a pair, if only they could stay together." He paused. "He said he couldn't live without him. I honestly don't believe it was romantic folderol."

"That's pretty much what I go from Anders. I've never heard so many words from him in all the time he's been here. As soon as Fenris was out of sight, he came apart. What happened to them? How did they get like this? I've never seen two people so..."

"Obsessively devoted? I know. Neither have I. He couldn't bear to be in another room. There's more at play here than we suspected, Eve."

"I believe you're right. I really need to know more about their time with Danarius, in order to understand. But, now's not the time."

Finally, Master spoke again. "Gentlemen..." Master said quietly. Fenris and Anders pulled apart far enough to kneel, side-by-side, before him.

"I truly regret traumatizing you. I didn't realize... Well. Now we do. You have done nothing wrong. You are certainly not forbidden to have an intimate relationship. By all means, find joy in one another. We were simply concerned that... well. Why don't you rest, and we'll talk later."

Master looked at them a bit longer, his face serious, then he led Mistress from the room.

Fenris immediately swung his leg over Anders' lap, and straddled him. "I was so sure... Anders... I was so sure..." Anders nodded, knowing exactly what he'd felt, what he'd feared. As Fenris shook with emotion, Anders held him, rubbing his back and shoulders, soothing him. "They'll get rid of us, now, for certain," Fenris said. "I've made a mess of things."

"I don't think so. I think they want to help us. I think they're just going to ask us a lot of very painful questions."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's what I would have done."

Finally, Anders got awkwardly to his feet, with Fenris in his arms, unwilling to let go for even a moment. He carried him to the bed, and gently lay them both upon it. Holding on to each other for dear life, they pulled the covers over their heads, hiding from the traitorous world. Exhausted by their trauma and tears, they fell asleep.

tbc...

Author's Notes:

Yep, it's the Quizzie. A bit off-canon to have her here, now; but it'll all even-out, don't be scared.

And, uh, no... this is NOT going to be a Dorian/Trevelyan romance. 'Cause, Evelyn is a girl. So, again, don't be scared.