THINGS THAT CHANGE

Fenris lay down his hand. He'd won. Again. Dorian laughed good-naturedly, while Eve poked his bare shoulder with the cheese knife in gentle ribbing. Anders tossed down his hand, smiling at his elf. Dorian and Eve had reacquainted them with the rules of Diamondback, and joined them for a few hands each evening. Fenris and Dorian were the real competition. The elf appreciated that Dorian never threw a game. He played as though he were betting in a tavern.

For a while, Fenris and Anders had dominated the nightly games. The nonverbal cues they had developed as a Matched Set, to better sync their responses, were the perfect con. Dorian had uncovered it, unintentionally, when his own cheating ran afoul of theirs. Eve had put her foot down, and declared the game a clean table. Dorian urged them to comply, as pissing-off Evelyn Trevelyan could result in a literal, or figurative, gelding.

Sitting at their small table in simple house servant's livery, grey pants and sleeveless tunics, both men had filled-out considerably. In three months' time, Eve's care, judicious magic-use and potions had worked wonders. Still slender, they'd lost the sharp angles and hollows of near starvation. They were gaining weight and energy.

More importantly, they were gaining confidence. Dorian's promises had proven true. After a couple months of peace and respect, Anders and Fenris began to relax into their new environment. With that, their habits of slavery started to unravel. Neither dropped to their knees, anymore. "Master" or "Mistress" only rarely escaped their lips, out of habit. They still tended toward synchronized movements and speech, but it had begun to falter. Not compelled to speak, Anders often let Fenris do the talking. Fenris was more confident, and tended to step forward, or move more quickly. Although sustained eye contact was still difficult for Anders, Fenris was confidently eye-to-eye with most people he met. The people they met were mostly staff in the house. Neither felt ready to meet outsiders, yet.

They had been offered clothing other than the servant's livery. Dorian despaired of them wearing the bland, shapeless uniform, and tried to tempt them into "proper attire to suit their position as guests of House Pavus." Eve told him to "stick his proper attire", they could wear whatever made them comfortable. Besides, she expected them to put on more weight over the next few weeks before their gain slowed. It didn't make sense to acquire a wardrobe they would just outgrow in a month.

They slept less and spoke more. Fenris talked the most, partly because he spoke for Anders when the mage couldn't. Anders was psychologically tender, often ducking his head when nervous. Many things made him nervous; sudden noises, touch, the dark, new people, questions. The mage spoke freely when alone with Fenris, but put another person in the room, and he receded into his protective shell. As he grew more familiar with Dorian and Eve, he relaxed in their presence. He had discussed healing with Eve on many occasions, and given her exceptional insight into his and Fenris' healing process.

Fenris was allowing himself to trust that what Dorian had told them was the truth. He desperately wanted it to be, for Anders' sake. The elf was fiercely protective of Anders, and quick to notice even slight changes in the mage's expression. He was the one to approach the housekeeping staff about stocking extra candles in their quarters. Fenris made sure one was lit in the corner each night, so that Anders wasn't startled when he woke in the dark. The elf grew to enjoy the dim, flickering light. He would lay and watch the shadows play over Anders' face as he slept, feeling his heart constrict with the beauty of the mage. He had no idea that Anders was doing the same thing to Fenris while the elf slept.

They occasionally left their room if encouraged, and Eve and Dorian encouraged them frequently. Each had a suite of rooms, and hosted meals and games in them regularly. Dorian had offered them a suite of their own, but they declined. Their little room was quite large, in their opinion, and without windows or a second door, felt secure.

There was a passage into an enclosed garden near their room. It was wild, with runners of climbing vines, overhanging trees, thick grass, and swinging hammocks. The men would lie in a gently swaying hammock for hours, looking up at the blue sky, talking in low tones.

Both Fenris and Anders liked Dorian. It wasn't easy for Fenris to admit it, simply based on his life-long animosity toward Tevinter magisters. Dorian wasn't actually a magister, though his father was. But, he'd won Fenris over without even trying. First, by saving their lives. Second, when he'd discussed his mission to reform his beloved country, he'd included his plans for slave rights

The first thing he'd done in the way of reform was offer freedom to all the slaves working in his estate. Most chose freedom. Some, mostly older, had been slaves for so long that they feared the change, and chose to remain enslaved. The arrangements for compensation varied, but the staff in Dorian's home were happy and productive.

Fenris had been astonished to learn this. Magister-to-be or not, Fenris decided that Dorian was a good man.

When he wasn't championing slave rights, Dorian was the official Tevinter ambassador to the Inquisition. Upon hearing this, Fenris and Anders had replied in their eery synchrony, "What's the Inquisition?"

Dorian was aghast. Eve was delighted, and had laughed long and loud. "Oh, how I wish I could say that," she bemoaned. One evening over a long dinner, Dorian and Eve caught the two men up on all they'd missed in the past four years. The circle revolts, the mage-templar war, red lyrium, Corypheus, Fade rifts, politics, intrigue. The world had been thrown into chaos, and brought back from the brink.

All while Fenris and Anders had been learning to walk and talk and fuck for Danarius' pleasure. Fenris was disgusted. How much of their lives had been wasted, how much of their knowledge and ability lain fallow as they knelt before a madman? For four years, they'd been party favors and whipping boys. Instead of joining in the fight against evil, to help set the world right, they'd been casually defiled. He'd fumed after hearing the story.

Where Fenris was angry, Anders was calm. He'd missed the mage revolution, and Fenris fully expected a reaction from him. He listened to the tale, nodding his head, and didn't say a word. He did exclaim in astonishment that Corypheus had come alive. He and Fenris had both fought the magister darkspawn with Hawke and Varric.

Eve had removed the bracelet she wore on her left wrist, and shown them the green light that shone from her palm. Dagna had made the bracelet, a neat bit of work that hid the light, allowing Eve the anonymity she desired. She had resigned as Inquisitor shortly after the defeat of Corypheus, leaving it in the capable hands of her remaining advisors. Eve had never wanted to be a political leader. Her interests lay in research and scholastic endeavors. She'd accompanied Dorian to Tevinter for several reasons. One was to get away from the notoriety of being the Inquisitor. Another was that mages were still viewed suspiciously in the South. Yet another was to get distance from a faltering romance with the Commander of the Inquisition Forces. She and Dorian lived comfortably together in his house, and shared a deep, playful friendship.

Dorian was grinning at Fenris. "It's a rare man that can beat me so soundly, so frequently," he allowed.

Fenris quirked his lips. "And, that's just at cards, Dorian."

Anders snorted, squeezing the elf's thigh. Dorian laughed, shaking his head.

"Well, that's it for me, for tonight. But! I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you."

Fenris was on his feet in an instant, the cheese knife in hand. He and Anders backed from the table, eyes narrowed. Fenris had one arm around Anders, snarling, "You'll have to kill us first."

Dorian and Eve were surprised, to say the least. But, sadly, this wasn't the first time an innocent statement had caused a similar reaction. He and Eve stayed where they were, knowing the pair would calm quickly.

Dorian's voice was measured. "Fenris... you know we're not going to do anything to harm either of you."

The pair glanced at each other, faces falling with chagrin. Fenris relaxed, his heart slowing. "I apologize. Danarius often had surprises for us."

"Surprises weren't good things, I take it?" Dorian asked gently.

Fenris exhaled heavily. "No. They were not." He sat again, keeping Anders' hand in his. He stuck the knife in the cheese. It had been a bluff, in any case. His lyrium was still warded.

"Good to know," Dorian replied. "Well, this particular bit of information I have is very good.

"I have been corresponding with a leading magicologist regarding Anders. I received a missive, today. He's traveling through our area, and would like to visit tomorrow."

Anders leaned forward. "A magicologist? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Really? Just what do the Circles do down there, besides imprison innocents and eliminate magic? How can it be understood without studying it? Honestly. A magicologist studies magic. How it manifests, how it changes, how it flows. Mana, energy, lyrium... It's fascinating, really. I spoke to him about Anders' situation, and he is most interested to examine him. He has already published theories regarding magic suppression. He says he has some leads regarding the potion that was used to destroy the Fade spirit." He turned to Anders. "Are you willing to speak with him? Have him examine you?"

"What will it entail?"

"He may need to scan you, so to speak. Get a feel for your magic's current level behind that collar, your connection to the Fade, the collar's specific effect. If he thinks it's safe, your collar could be removed, tomorrow."

Anders nodded, his face expressionless. Fenris watched him closely. "You sure you're comfortable with this?"

The mage shrugged. "I don't think it'll hurt to have him look."

"Wonderful! He'll be arriving before lunch. You know, Fenris, he could take a look at the wards on your lyrium, if you like. Well, I'm heading to a pile of correspondence, then bed. But, I'd like to leave you with this..." He pulled a package from his belt.

"I was in the market earlier... Well, I picked something up for you. Sorry I didn't think of it, sooner." He tossed it to Fenris, and bowed he and Eve's way out of their room. They heard Eve telling Dorian, "That better not be an Orlesian Tickler, Dorian..."

Fenris carefully unwrapped the package. It was a pot of viscous oil. Anders chuckled. "What is it?" Fenris asked, sniffing it.

"It's lubricant. For us. I kind of suspected Dorian preferred men. This makes me think I was right. Who else would think of this?"

"I don't follow you."

"It makes friction more pleasant."

"Oh." He still wasn't sure exactly what it was, but if Anders was fine with it, he was fine with it.

When Anders joined Fenris under their covers, the elf broached a topic that had bothered him for a while.

"Anders... why don't you want your magic back?"

"I never said I don't want it back."

"You've never said it, but, you don't."

Anders was quiet. Fenris let him think to himself. Eventually, he spoke.

"You hate mages. You hate magic. You hated me when I had magic. What if Justice is still in me? We both know how you felt about that."

Fenris' eyes closed. He couldn't deny it. He had hated mages, magic, and the Fade spirit. He'd made it clear, repeatedly. He felt terrible. Anders had loved having magic. He'd loved being a Spirit Healer. "Anders... what we were, is no more. That's no longer how I feel. You know that."

"You became part of me after my magic and Justice were suppressed. You don't know how you'll feel if I get one or both back. We'll always be one, Fenris. But, I don't want you to be unhappy about what I bring to us."

"I won't be unhappy. I'll feel exactly as I do now. I'll always feel as I do now."

Anders didn't answer. His face in the dim light was sad. He was sad because of Fenris, and the elf couldn't bear it. He pulled Anders to him, felt the mage mouthing along his neck. He was seeking comfort, still anxious, still unsure. Fenris lifted himself away enough to look into Anders' eyes.

"You are my life. Love is such a pale word to describe what I feel. But, I have no other. I love you, Anders. I feel as though I always have, and I know that I always will.
I will love you no matter what happens, tomorrow. If you wear this collar the rest of your life, if your magic returns, if Justice still resides within you... nothing you bring to us will change my feelings. My love for you knows no bounds."

Anders' eyes were alight, wet with tears he wouldn't let himself shed. He pressed his smiling, quivering lips together, inhaling tremulously through his nose. Finally, the only response he could make without weeping was a series of frantic nods.

Fenris smiled at him, and pulled him back. His mage was happy, again. Fenris' heart pounded with delight.

He loved his Anders so.

tbc...

Author's Notes:

I know, lots of things were only touched-on lightly, or not at all. Give it time! :-D