REVELATIONS

The next day, both Master and Mistress came for the promised talk. Sitting close, entwining their fingers, Fenris and Anders watched them with wary glances.

Master began. "Eve and I had always intended to have a deeper conversation with you both; when you were strong enough, and the time seemed right. Given yesterday's misunderstanding, that time seems to be now. I think a few points of interest are due to be made clear." He looked at them with serious intent.

"First, although House Pavus holds legal ownership of you both, it's merely a formality. I bought you to free you, once you're healthy and your safety is assured.

"We need you both to be able talk with us. You have every right to tell us if we say or do something that distresses you. Although I loathe to give you orders, I suspect it may be easier for you if I do." He blew out his air, an expression of reluctant resolve on his face. "So, that in mind: Regardless of your legal status, you are no longer to comport yourselves as slaves. You are not a Matched Set. Anders, you are no longer Fenris' slave.

"In line with that, do not bow, do not kneel, and do not use the terms Master or Mistress. That goes for Evie and me, or anyone else you may meet.

"If you don't wish to answer a question, eat a food, or take a bath, then don't.

"If you have something to say, speak your mind. Look at us, if you like. I'm worth looking at, if I say so myself. I'd hate for you to miss the view.

"Do you understand this, so far?"

Both men glanced at each other. "Yes, Master... Dorian. Yes, Dorian."

Dorian continued. "Now, I will admit, I felt terrible after the bathroom debacle. And, I detest feeling terrible. Obviously, you both felt much worse than I.

"So, hear this, and do try to believe it: You will not be sold. You will not be separated. You will not be punished. You will not be given commands. You will absolutely not be compelled to provide sexual favors.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dorian," they replied in perfect unison.

Dorian shook his head at their continued synchronizations. "I imagine some habits will be longer in the breaking than others." He sighed. "Alright, then. You'll not be hearing orders from either of us, again. You are my guests, valued and welcome guests. With a very unique set of circumstances."

Eve spoke then. "We would like to ask you some questions, if you're comfortable with that. Knowing more about your past few years will help us to help you."

Fenris frowned. Danarius had asked them questions, only to use their answers in frightening ways. "Help us to do what?"

Eve beamed approvingly at his question. "Help you heal, Fenris. Help you build a new life."

Anders leaned close to the elf. "I told you so," he murmured.

Fenris met his gaze, expression softening. He glanced at the pair. "Ask your questions."

Dorian's mustache twitched slightly. "I've gotten the feeling you're not comfortable talking about your former Master. Might you feel a sense of obligation to him?"

Fenris spoke. "No, not exactly."

"Do you fear reprisal should you speak ill of him?"

"Yes, we do."

"Well, let's put that fear to rest right now. Danarius was a sick, twisted swine. My parents detested him, and as I grew up, I came to feel the same. Anything you say that is unflattering to him, or shows him in poor light, will fall on sympathetic ears, I assure you. I cannot express my regret deeply enough that you spent so long under his control."

Eve spoke. "Varric said you left Kirkwall with Danarius in early 9:40. Were you with him the entire time?"

"We were."

"Varric had scouts and spies looking for you. He said no one ever saw you. Have you been at Danarius' estate this entire time?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever take you out?"

Over several hours, Dorian and Eve asked questions. Fenris answered as well as he could.

He talked about Anders' suppression collar, the warding of his lyrium. He spoke of Anders' extended breaking in the beginning, his transformation to Match Fenris. The long hours of perfecting themselves as a Matched Set, practicing every movement, every word. He told them of the lust potions, the performances, the beatings. He was frank regarding the services they were expected to provide to Danarius and his guests. He spoke of the times of being forgotten in their cell, the half-rations they shared near the end.

He told them of Danarius' descent into madness. The evil that never relented, the constant vigilance against the magister's whims, pleasures, and failing memory.

Even though he could tell the facts, the emotions that went with them were harder to translate.

Although he tried, there was simply no way to describe the encompassing fear of being made blind, deaf, and dumb. Of the desperate way he and Anders survived the months of isolation by melding, giving themselves to one another, becoming one another.

He told them of the potion Anders had been given to kill the Fade spirit. Of begging Danarius for his life; of his frightening days of heartache, waiting to see if Anders would live or die. Of Anders being made his pet. He didn't speak of the cat; knowing how badly it hurt the mage, still.

And, though he tried, he didn't know how to describe the connection that he and Anders shared. How could anyone understand that when he looked at Anders' breathtaking visage, he saw a part of himself. That, in his soul, Anders was him. That he could no more leave Anders behind, than he could leave his heart or lungs behind, and still live.

Many times, Dorian and Eve would swear or exclaim; or stand and pace, their horror plain. Through most of it, Dorian sat and listened, hand over his mouth, eyes intense; nodding as though something finally made sense to him, but he did not like the sense it made. He questioned them about the potion Anders took, in detail; how it looked, tasted, felt, the effects it caused. He took a several moments to look more closely at the suppression collar. Eve wrote many notes, her hand often shaking.

Through the retelling, Anders sat quietly. He held Fenris' hand tightly, listening as he spoke and answered questions. Occasionally, when the memories' pain grew too much, Fenris pulled Anders close, and buried his face in the burnished gold of his hair; finding peace for a moment, before continuing.

By the time their entire story of the past 4 years was told, they were all exhausted. They sat in silence, the images in all their minds slowly losing their nauseating hold. Food was brought to the room for all four.

Mostly, it was quiet. Everyone was a bit raw. None had the stomach to eat very much.

Dorian spoke. "I am more sorry than I can possibly say, for what you've been through. So sorry that I separated you, yesterday. I had no idea..."

Eve interjected, "Dorian, you couldn't possibly know. But, it's true, we are both very sorry."

When all had eaten what they could, Dorian looked at them intently.

"I meant it when I said that I will free you. I'll do it now, if that's what you desire."

"Thank you."

"I don't want you to fall into the wrong hands, again. You have much greater protection now, then you will when you are free."

"We understand, Dorian."

"I can't even imagine... I shudder to think..." Dorian's face was drawn, frowning deeply. "I don't know how you had strength to survive it."

Anders spoke, then. "We became each other," he said simply.

Dorian looked at the pair. Their bodies shared space in complete rapport. A single glance between them was a conversation. Their expressions conveyed utter devotion.

"So you did."

Once Dorian and Eve had taken their leave, Fenris moved across the room and lay down on the couch, pulling Anders on top of him. It was like pulling the most sumptuous, comforting blanket over himself.

"That was excruciating," he said into golden hair. "And, exhausting."

"It was easier than living through it."

"You're right. As usual." His hands stoked down Anders' back. The shifts they still wore were thin, he could feel Anders' ribs and spine through it. "You're already putting on weight."

"Mm-hm. We both are."

Fenris thought a moment. "Seeing them angry about it all... It makes it easier to believe they won't do those things."

"Do you think you can trust them?"

"I don't know, Anders. Trust hasn't given me much, in my experience. I want to trust, for your sake. I want to believe that you'll be safe, that we can live some kind of life." His breath hitched. "You've had so much pain... I can't bear for you to hurt, anymore."

Anders calmed him with soft kisses and gentle hands. "I'm alright, I'm right here, and we're both safe..."

They lay for a long while, hearing each other breathe, feeling each other's heartbeat. Anders spoke. "Varric looked for us."

"So they said."

Anders shook his head. "I don't understand. Why didn't he do something, in the first place? Why look for us later? Why didn't he try to stop it? Why didn't any of them? They just stood by and let Hawke give us up."

"I don't know," Fenris agreed. "I thought about that a lot, in the beginning." "If I ever see Hawke again, I will kill him," Anders said.

"Not if I do it, first."

"We'll do it together."

"We're good at doing things together," Fenris pointed out.

Anders rolled off of the elf, pulling him to lie chest-to-chest on their sides. "I must be getting heavy."

"Thank the Maker for that." Fenris stroked Anders' shaggy hair, pushing it off of his face. "You used to wear it pulled back," he remembered.

"Mm-hm. It's growing out. I should ask Eve how to have it cut."

"Do you want to? We don't have to be a Matched Set, anymore."

Anders smiled. "I like to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

Fenris gazed at him. "You're like the sun, golden and warm." He kissed Anders, then, soft and sweet. "Your kiss, your eyes, your hair... all like honey," he said, fingers playing lightly across Anders' lips.

Anders sucked two of those fingers into his mouth, eyes closing as he tasted the elf. He let his tongue wind about the digits, his mouth working them with frank sensuality. Fenris felt the suction like it was on his hardening flesh. His body begin to rise as the mage sucked on those digits, his arousal pressing between their bellies.

Anders let loose of the fingers, and pulled the elf's mouth to his with a hand in the silky white hair. He heard Fenris groan, felt his tongue tasting of his mouth. "You would never hurt me... I was sick that they thought you did," he whispered vehemently.

Fenris panted around the words, "Never... never hurt my mage..." he moved himself against Anders, feeling the mage's answering hardness. He adjusted his hips so their arousals met through the barrier of their shifts. He felt himself transported. His breath exhaled in moans. "When you touch me this way..." He buried his face in Anders' hair, "... everything is made right."

Anders responded in kind, his body moving with Fenris'. He attached his mouth to the elf's throat, sucking hard, moaning at the taste of him. They rutted together, sliding against each other's cloth- covered hardness, heat filling their bellies.

Anders finally grasped Fenris' hips, grinding hard against him, pleasure building, heat consuming him. His mouth tore from Fenris' throat, voice desperate. "Fenris... oh, Maker..."

Fenris' hand was scrabbling, lifting their shifts, grasping both their shafts in one hand. He squeezed them hard, mouth sucking intently on the mage's neck. Anders' hand joined his, and they stroked together. Harsh pants heralded the climb to completion. "Anders... together... oh... oh... now..."

Each felt the other shudder violently, heard the other's groan and whimper, felt the other's hot seed coat their stomachs.

Foreheads pressed together, they gasped as they caught their breath. After a moment, Fenris shook his head. "Never have I desired sex. It was always painful, always forced. I spent a decade in freedom, and in that time, my only thought about it was how relieved I was to leave it behind. I'm confused by this desire, Anders. I want you, so much. I can't get close enough. Why?"

Anders stroked his hand into the elf's hair. "I can't say, Fenris. You've had so much pain. Maybe the Maker has finally decided to give you some joy."

tbc...

Author's Notes:

I love Dorian. Wouldn't want them to miss the view, indeed.