THINKING AHEAD

Fenris watched Anders and Dorian work together. Their training sessions took place in a large, empty room. Here, spells could be fired at a distance and dummies demolished, with collateral damage at a minimum. Anders was already an accomplished mage, Fenris knew that. He'd fought with him in countless battles, been healed by him numerous times. It was interesting to observe Dorian's surprise at Anders' abilities and skills. Fenris could see that he was a bit scattered. His spells lacked the precision and speed they'd once had, but he was quickly getting it back.

While Dorian worked with Anders primarily on battle magic, Eve worked with him on healing. They had similar training, both coming from Circles outside of Tevinter. Each had learned much outside the Circle, and delighted in sharing those skills. Watching Anders bending over a cot in the infirmary, healing a servant's grease burn, Fenris was taken back to Darktown for an instant. He felt it like a balm on his soul... Anders was a healer, again.

Eve had watched several of Dorian's training sessions alongside Fenris. She told him Dorian was surprised by Anders because he was a Southern mage, trained in a Southern Circle. Most Circle mages that he'd met, including herself, had little battle skill. Fenris believed it. Most of Anders' battle skills were learned as an apostate, and a Grey Warden. Circles didn't want their mages able to fight.

Dorian was incredibly patient with Anders. The Tevinter was bombastic, but also was truly kind, when he thought no one would notice. Anders' confidence had grown with the resurgence of his magic; but, he was still easily distressed. Dorian respected his space, spoke calmly, was smooth in his encouragement. He probably didn't need to be as solicitous of Anders as he was. Dorian and Eve were familiar, by now, and Anders trusted them. Fenris suspected Dorian simply liked Anders, and felt protective of him. There was a certain sweetness in the Tevinter's expression when he spoke to the mage.

Fenris was handling a greatsword as he watched their session. He hadn't held one in many years, yet the feel of it in his hands was immediately familiar. He was letting himself grow slowly accustomed to its presence on his back, in his hands. He was beginning to think of their future. Anders had his skill back, so Fenris decided it was time to resume his. He worked with his lyrium frequently. He could do it anywhere, it didn't require special training to reacquaint with it. There was no one to teach him, regardless. He was one-of-a-kind, and the creator of the lines was dead. As Anders had said, the markings belonged to Fenris, now.

As their life took on more facets, their room seemed to be shrinking. Any sword work or battle spell casting had to be moved to the training room for lack of space. Shelves had been moved in to hold the books they'd acquired. A desk was wedged in the corner for Fenris to practice his writing lessons. The moment the elf had expressed a desire to better his hand, Anders had begun teaching him. Eve made sure they were supplied with paper and quills, even basic practice notebooks. She'd offered to have a tutor brought in to work with him, but both Fenris and Anders had declined. The elf wanted to learn as he had everything for the past four-plus years; with Anders.

Of course, they couldn't help each other with their respective weapons. But, they attended each other's practice sessions. They were still unable to separate without severe anxiety setting-in. They were finally able to be out of eyesight if one used the toilet; but the door remained ajar. Anders had expected some sort of laughter or teasing when he mentioned this progress to Eve. There was none. She respected the level of control this anxiety held over them, and was supportive of any improvement they had. He was grateful, but even Fenris had snorted at themselves; two grown men, finally able to shit on their own.

With the mages' practice over, the room smelled of ozone and lyrium. In time, Fenris wanted Anders to learn to draw power from the lyrium on his body. It had been painful, when Danarius did it. He felt sure that was due to the manner in which it had been done. Anders wasn't comfortable with trying it, yet, although he thought it was likely he could. Since cleaning and reactivating the lyrium lines, Anders could taste and feel them, ten-times more strongly than before.

Due to that, Anders was like a child with an elf-shaped lolly. He'd always been at Fenris' skin, tasting and scenting the elf in passion or anxiety. Now... although it wasn't the same as taking lyrium potion, it sent him into some sort of bliss. Anders told him the feel of the lines against his lips and tongue was reminiscent of the surge of lyrium when consumed. The mage tried to avoid putting his mouth on the markings unless they were alone. With the combination of Fenris' scent and taste, with the lyrium, Anders' reaction was often... ardent.

Eve came to meet them as the mages were finishing their work. "If you fellows are done here, I need Anders and Fenris." She led them to the family wing, where she and Dorian had their suites. Opening the door to a vacant set of rooms, she ushered them in.

"I know you've preferred your room, but I'd really like you to consider moving into this suite." The men exchanged glances. "No, don't go talking with your eyes, think about it." She swung her arms out. "You're outgrowing your space. Look, this suite has only three rooms, and only one door between them, to the bathroom. The bedchamber has no door, and the living space is considerably larger. You can actually move without bumping each other."

"We like bumping each other," Fenris dead-panned. Anders snorted.

Eve rolled her eyes. "Be that as it may, you've both got bruises up and down your shins. Honestly, Anders, you're a Healer, take care of those."

"Those are just passion-related," Anders replied in his Healer's-tone. Fenris snorted.

"Maker, you're worse than Bull and Dorian. Fine. You're both acquiring possessions, you'll be getting wardrobes soon, there's barely any room for Dorian and I to visit, and I want a better view when we play cards."

Fenris looked at her standing before them, hands on hips, eyes intent. "This must be the Inquisitor-look Dorian mentioned," he said.

"No wonder Corypheus dropped dead," Anders replied.

Eve tried to keep a straight face, but burst into laughter. "So... will you move?"

"Yes, Eve. We were going to bring it up, anyway. We are at your convenience."

The wardrobe acquisition was a nuisance for both of them. Both were used to fairly simple clothes. Anders would grow fond of a set of robes, and wear them until they fell off. Fenris had lived his remembered life in grafted spirit hide armor, with leggings and tunic. He had no more of that armor, new would need to be made. Anders wasn't as flashy as Tevinter fashion seemed to be. But, they agreed, they'd spent enough time barefoot in cotton servant's livery.

Eve helped them fight off Dorian. He was determined that Anders would wear only the latest in mage-wear. Finally, Anders went through Dorian's wardrobe, and chose those robes he liked best. A tailor visited the estate, and Eve helped Anders describe what alterations he'd like on the designs, and then he was measured for fit. It was very uncomfortable for Anders, having a stranger's hands move across him with the measuring-tape. Fenris stayed beside him, pulling the tailor's hands a few inches from the mage's body, when necessary. The tailor, endlessly accustomed to the eccentricities of the wealthy, took it in stride.

Dorian located the armorer who'd created Fenris' armor for Danarius, so many years ago. The man came to the house to take measurements of Fenris. He also sat and discussed the armor with the elf, at length. It was a unique piece of work, and he was intrigued with its performance. Between the armorer and Fenris, they made revisions to the design. Both Anders' robes and Fenris' armor would be delivered in a few weeks.

Dinner that evening was in their new suite. So was the game of Wicked Grace that followed. Dorian was explaining the convoluted social puzzle of the Tevinter elite. He started with his own family.

"This house we're in is actually but one of many the Pavus family holds throughout Thedas. There's a half-dozen in Tevinter, alone. Father wasn't thrilled with the idea of my presence under his roof in Qarinus, nor was I. This was his... amends, if you will. Along with his support in my ambassadorship."

"If he's the head of the Pavus family, is he the one who actually owns us?" Anders asked.

"No. As I'm of age, I'm able to acquire holdings of my own, under the name of Pavus. So, should I die, there are stipulations regarding your handling. Your ownership will be transferred to Josephine Montilyet at Skyhold, who will have you delivered anyplace you wish to go, and then freed. I trust her savvy, and ethics, implicitly."

Fenris nodded, saw Anders mulling it over. "Can we become citizens of Tevinter?" the mage asked.

Dorian's expression was serious. "Anders, I need you to understand what that would entail. As a mage, you'd have a fairly easy time being granted citizenship. The Imperium is fond of Southerners coming to its land. A big thumbing of the nose to the South. However, as a foreigner, with no money, no family, and few connections, you would be at great risk. As you well know, mages are enslaved here, frequently. You are a powerful mage, to be sure, but you lack what is needed to survive without clout. That would be the willingness to do whatever it takes for power- including blood magic." He paused. "As for Fenris..." He glanced at the elf.

"I would never be granted citizenship," he said.

"Why not?"

"I'm not a mage, for one, which means I have less to offer than you. I'm 'The Lyrium Ghost'. Which makes me too valuable as a slave. Even were I free, the first Magister with the power and the means would have me taken captive"

Anders nodded, disappointed.

Dorian continued. "Most who desire citizenship in the Imperium are required to undergo a ten-year indentureship. However, with my family's sponsorship, there are a couple of other options for you, Anders. You could become an apprentice, to myself, or someone I trust. It would gain you financial and power backing to remain free. Normally, it's for a designated period of time, which is a bit of a nuisance in this case. There's also the possibility of adoption."

Anders snorted. "Aren't I a little old to be adopted?"

"Oh, no. Great Families adopt new members with some regularity. Certainly not for altruistic reasons. It's rather like marriage, here. All about the breeding and the alliances. You could be adopted into the Pavus Family, Anders."

"Fenris, too?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Discrimination runs high, here. Any adoption must be put forth by the Head of Family, which is my father. Halward is willing to allow your adoption... but, not Fenris. Even were he adopted, his reception would be..."

"Something I'd rather avoid," Fenris finished.

Anders squinted his eyes. It was a new expression Fenris had begun to notice. The mage had begun to have a number of forgotten emotions return to his repertoire. Humor, was one. Anger, another. The squint was a tell-tale sign of the latter. He also knew Anders wouldn't express his anger, in this case. Dorian was their host, and he was referring to his father.

"Then I don't want to be free. I'll stay a slave, with Fenris."

Fenris sighed. "Anders, you're being foolish. I cannot be anything other than a slave, here. But, there is no reason you can't be free. If Dorian's willing to have you adopted into his family, then let him."

"No."

"Yes," Fenris insisted. "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"We are equals, and we will stay equals. I won't have privileges you don't. I won't have people looking up to me and down on you. I want to share our lives as equal partners, however high or low that may be."

Dorian grimaced. "Well, that's a little difficult in Tevinter, gentlemen. Two men cannot have a domestic partnership."

Anders was nonplussed. "Why?"

"It simply isn't done. Discrete meetings, furtive tumbles... that's all Tevinter offers."

"Then, we'll leave the Imperium. I won't live free while you're still a slave. And, I don't want to hide what we share."

"Anders, so help me..." Fenris grumbled. "I'm not letting you go back to being an apostate. You're turning down a chance to have what you always sought. You could have a life, a real, free, mage-in-the-streets life."

"And spend our life pretending we're something we're not? You, someone's slave?"

Dorian spoke up. "This can really be quite easy, Anders. The Pavus Family adopts you, which makes you a citizen of the Imperium. It also gives you all the power, money and status that a Great Family provides. You assume ownership of Fenris. No one will attempt to steal the property from a Great Family. You're protected, he's protected. And, on a social level, it's expected that you and Fenris live together. It's even accepted that you sleep together."

Fenris raised his eyebrows, impressed with the idea. He'd much prefer having Anders as his legal owner than anyone else.

"No! I will not own Fenris!"

Fenris shook his head. "I owned you, you didn't mind."

"That was different. We were both slaves, and you didn't really own me. I can't own you, Fenris... don't you understand?"

"I do. I also know that the only way I can live in relative security in Tevinter, is if I am owned by someone strong enough to keep that ownership. I'd rather that someone be you." Fenris looked at Anders with open appeal. "Consider it. We could live here, comfortably, together. We could even work with Dorian and Eve, if you like. We could travel outside Tevinter, if you were an Imperial citizen; visit other countries. I don't care if I'm a 'paper slave'; I'd be with you. Anders, you've fought for your freedom your whole life. Take it, now, when it's being handed to you on a silver platter."

"People would think I'm a slave owner. Worse, one who abuses his slave," Anders said in disgust.

"A slave owner, yes. Most of the Imperium owns slaves," Dorian interjected. "I admit, you taking ownership of Fenris from me will solve the issue of me owning him while trying to push my reform agenda. As for your relationship with Fenris, no one will really care. The mutual affection can show. It would also serve a purpose. It makes clear that you have a personal interest in him; that any abuse by others would be strongly retaliated. It's not uncommon for feelings to evolve between a slave and his owner."

"Because the slave has no choice... their life depends on returning those feelings."

Fenris looked at Anders in confusion. "Do you honestly believe I will fall into a slave mindset with you?"

Anders sighed. "No. I don't. It's just... Why is it every time freedom is mine to take, it comes with such a price?"

Dorian chuckled gently. "Oh, Anders. Freedom always comes with a price. The cost you're being asked is really quite minimal. Live with the man you love, and give him protection with a document of ownership. That's not so bad, is it?"

Anders looked from Dorian to Fenris. The elf still had open appeal in his eyes. Anders sighed. "If you ever call me 'Master', we're moving to Ferelden."

Dorian clapped his hands. "Excellent! I'll start the process, immediately."

tbc...