EXPANDING HORIZONS

Fenris woke well past midnight. Anders was sitting up in bed, with a lamp lit. He was reading Varric's letter, again. Fenris slid over and put his head in Anders' lap. He lay in warmth and peace, feeling Anders' fingers massage into his hair.

Soon, Anders put the letter down, and continued his caress of the elf's hair. Finally, the mage spoke.

"They didn't let us go."

"They didn't."

"They fought for us."

"They did."

He heard Anders choke-up slightly. "They were...they are...our friends."

"They are."

Then, Anders snorted lightly. "Merrill smashed his gourd with his tankard of ale."

Fenris chuckled. "That one move makes her one of my favorite people."

"I want to answer Varric's letter. But... I have no idea what to say. How do I describe the past four years? I can barely think about it, let alone talk about it in casual conversation. How would that sound, anyway? 'What have I been up to? Oh, I spent some time at an estate in the country; rape, torture, starvation, terror. The usual. Terribly dull'. See what I mean?"

Fenris quirked his lips. In that one, morbid statement, Anders sounded much like his old self. "You don't have to tell anyone, anything. That was usually my choice. If I hadn't been so deep in slave mind-set when we arrived here, I wouldn't have told Dorian and Eve as much as I did."

"I'm glad you did, though. Telling them made a huge difference. But, the reason they asked questions was different from why other people will ask. And, I don't know how to answer."

"It's up to you, Anders. You can offer the ugly truth for public consumption, or you can keep it to yourself. The fact is, no matter what you say, no one else can truly understand. Even if they want to, they can't. They didn't experience it."

Anders lay down and waved a hand at the lamp, extinguishing it. The night candle in the corner gave its soothing, dim glow. "I'm not ready to write, yet. I'll wait until I know what to say."

When they awoke, again, it was past dawn. They dressed, and made their way to a part of the gardens they hadn't been in, before.

The grounds were beautiful, and vast. Anders was a bit nervous in the open space, and held Fenris' hand, but he was happy to be outdoors, again. The ride in the carriage had touched on his love for the outdoors; which wasn't so much a love as a desire to be anywhere other than imprisoned. Coming upon a bench at the edge of a large pond, they stopped and enjoyed the morning sun.

Anders sat and watched Fenris as he played with his sword. The elf stood a safe distance away, balancing his sword on its pommel, in his palm. "If you cut your foot off dropping that, don't come running to me."

Fenris smirked, and tossed the blade up, catching it, again, after it spun in mid-air. "I've always come running to you for healing magic. No one else has ever healed me."

"You're kidding."

The sword was balanced in his palm, again. "No. Danarius had no healing magic, he used potions. I didn't trust Merrill, and Hawke never brought Bethany on missions. You are the only mage who has ever healed me with magic."

"Wow. I feel like... I don't know. Honored."

Fenris snorted. "I wouldn't got that far. I wasn't exactly polite about it."

"True. You could be a right prick, sometimes."

The sword flew up again, fell pommel-first into his hand. "You know you were an annoying pest, do you not?"

"I had convictions."

"You had a smart mouth."

Anders grinned. "You don't complain about my mouth, now."

Fenris grinned back. "Nor will I. Ever, again."

Dorian's voice came to them. "Ah, domestic felicity." They turned to see him ambling through the garden toward them. "You found my favorite spot," he mused, sitting on the far end of the bench. He stretched his arms on the back. "How are you feeling?"

Fenris looked up, the sword swinging around his body in complicated patterns."Like a great truth has been revealed."

Anders spoke. "Like, maybe, I can move on."

Fenris sat between them, and put his sword away. They all sat in companionable silence.

A movement on the far side of the pond caught their eyes. A fat, black cat had slunk out of the shrubbery, and was crouched by the water's edge. Fenris glanced at Anders. The mage had, of course, seen the animal, and intently watched its every move. When Dorian swung his leg up to cross it over his knee, the cat lowered its head, green eyes going flat on their tops, and glared at them.

Anders laughed. "It looks like you, love. You glower the same way."

"Good. It's an impressive glower."

They watched the cat a while.

Fenris asked, quietly, "Do you want to pet that cat?"

Anders jolted. "No. No, Fenris, no."

Fenris took his hand. "Be calm, my mage. You don't have to. I just thought you might like to."

Dorian watched their interaction. "Not a fan of cats, I take it?"

"I like cats," Anders tried to say with a steady voice, but failing. "I've always liked cats."

Dorian looked quizzically at Fenris.

Fenris debated his reply. "Danarius allowed him to grow attached to a cat in his courtyard. This was after he'd been given the Spiritu potion, and his mind was still so damaged. Danarius killed it while it was in Anders' arms. To remind us that Anders might also be killed, at any time."

"Vishante kaffas!" Dorian leaned forward, and put his head in his hands. "Maker's breath."

Anders spoke, quietly. "My mind is still so damaged. Every damned thing makes me cry. So many things make me feel like I'm losing control: my heart races, my mind panics. And, then, all I want to do is hide in Fenris. I hate it that I have to comfort myself like a babe at the breast. I'm a grown man, dammit. But, when I taste him, and smell him-it stills my mind. It soothes my wretched soul.

"I know I'm never going to be whole. But, I want to make some kind of a life. I don't want Fenris to have to babysit me, every minute of the day. I want to be a Healer, again. But, how can I, if I can't even talk to my patients?"

Fenris pulled him close. "I don't babysit you. I have as much trouble leaving your side, as you do mine. And, your soul isn't wretched, it was torn apart. I'm very proud of how well you're doing."

"There's no rush, Anders," Dorian assured him. "Let healing happen in it's own time. That's what Eve always says, anyway. We'll make more trips, skipping the scenic route, next time. A library, the park, the theatre. Things with little interaction. Grow accustomed to the presence of people, before you concern yourself with talking to them."

"And, what happens when someone tries to talk to me?"

Fenris spoke up. "Hide behind me. I'm your bodyguard, after all. All I need do, is stand in front of you. It's a clear message that you do not wish to be disturbed."

The three men sat quietly for a while, again.

Anders sighed. "I want to go to the library."

Dorian smiled. "Do you?"

"Not really, but of all the places I can start, it seems like a good one."

It was a good one. Particularly for Fenris. He'd seen the libraries at various estates, but never a true library. Dorian chose a public one, rather than a Circle library. They were less frequented by nobility. Here, Anders would be treated with deference, left alone with his elf.

Both could barely contain their awe as they walked through the door. Anders had studied for years in the Kinloch Hold library. That one could have fit in the ground floor of this building. Books... books... everywhere, books. The building was circular, which was a bit of irony for Anders. Dorian explained that it had once been a Circle of Magi, in eons past. Now, it had no floors or ceilings in the center of the building. Standing in the center of the ground floor, one could look five stories up to the top. There were shelves along the walls, spiraling up on stairways, and wide walkways, all around the inside walls. Slender windows let the bright sun in to shine clear down to the bottom floor. Gold-hued marble, gold foil and inlaid mosaic pieces made the place a piece of art, regardless of function.

Fenris hadn't realized so many books existed, let alone in one place. His reading had improved since living with Dorian and Eve. Anders always had the time and patience to work with him. Fenris couldn't handle the level of reading his housemates possessed... yet. But, he was more adept than the average citizen. He was sure there were books in this building that he could read.

Holding hands, Anders and Fenris stared up and around in delight. Each headed in different directions, and were jerked abruptly back by their own hand-hold. Dorian muffled a laugh behind his hand. He signaled a docent, and requested a tour.

Anders had never been so deferentially treated. The man bowed. No hand was offered for shaking... another reason Dorian had chosen the place. Only another Altus or higher would seek to touch Anders.

The tour was delightful. Little was required of Anders, except that he listen. Fenris was entranced. He knew the docent had dismissed him the moment he'd seen him, but he preferred it. He was able to look about him, focus on Anders, listen to what interested him.

When the docent directed their attention to a very old, very large book sitting on a raised dais, Anders stepped forward. It was a grimoire. He pulled his hand from Fenris' to carefully turn the pages, engrossed in the tome. Fenris held up his empty hands to show Dorian, and they shared a grin.

After the tour, they browsed books. Dorian taught Anders a clever bit of magic he'd been shown by Solas, an elf apostate he'd worked with in the Inquisition. With focus, he could summon a small object from a short distance, to float into his grasp. Anders was thrilled. Soon he was summoning books from high shelves, nearly dancing with the novelty of it. Fenris shook his head at their antics, and kept his head out of the way of flying books. He chose a couple of works about the fall of Arlathan.

"You know those don't tell the true story of what happened to Arlathan," Dorian murmured.

"I know. You explained it. But, for me to really understand your work, I should understand what the populace believes. I'm uneducated. I'd like to remedy that."

Anders grinned at him over his tall stack of books.

"When do you plan to read all of those?" Fenris asked.

"I'm not reading all of each one. I'm doing research into lyrium."

"Why?"

"Couple reasons."

The start was auspicious. They continued making forays into the world of people. Trips to museums, parks, theaters, libraries... Over the next month, Dorian helped them grow accustomed to society. Anders and Fenris worried that Dorian was spending so much time with them. They both knew he had work to do, and that he was sacrificing time to help them. He scoffed.

"It's true, I'm working toward something important to me, which I believe is important for all of my countrymen. However, time is not necessarily of the essence. Reformation is a long-term process. It cannot be forced. Could I do more right now? Yes. Is helping you both with your own progress more important? Absolutely. You're my friends, my family, you're important. Sadly, what happened to you is the worst example of the kind of corruption I hope to defeat. How could I not want to take the time to help you become whole, again?"

Hearing this reaffirmed what they already knew-Dorian Pavus was a greathearted, generous soul. Which made it all the less pleasant when he received unsettling news.

They had wandered into his suite to join him for supper, early in the evening. He sat at his desk, staring pensively at a letter before him.

"Dorian?" Anders asked quietly.

Dorian lifted his head, and took in their presence. "Forgive me," he said. "Time got past me. I received some rather unexpected news." He lifted the letter, in explanation.

"What news?" They both asked, in unison.

Dorian reached for a decanter of whiskey. He poured himself a drink. "The Inquisition's been disbanded."

"Why?" they asked. Dorian glanced at them, shaking his head.

"You still do that, sometimes. I find it's still unnerving." He took a sip from his drink. "It was Eve's call. There was really an alarming number of ungrateful prigs at the Council. Arle Teagan, chief among them." He shook his head. "And, after all we'd done to save his Arling."

"That doesn't explain why," Fenris pressed. "Seems a serious decision to make, as influential as the Inquisition became."

"Eve doesn't go into a lot of detail, in her letter. Security reasons, I imagine. I don't question Eve's choice. I'm pleased the Advisors were in accord. She had resigned, after all. I'm surprised at the sense of loss that I feel. The Inquisition was a remarkable institution, that wrought near-miracles. It changed the world, for good or ill.

"Which brings me to another distressing point. Eve mentioned that the Fade Mark on her hand had expanded during her time away. She writes that she's lost her arm."

Anders' hand covered his mouth. "Maker. Damn it. Oh, Eve."

Dorian tossed back the remainder of his drink. "Indeed. I would have hoped fate would play more kindly on her behalf. She's a remarkable woman. She would not desire our grief in this matter, I know that. And, so, on a good note, she's coming back! With Cullen, surprisingly enough. I suppose they are wed, now, after all. And, she writes that he's retired as Commander of the Inquisition forces. Which makes sense, as the Inquisition is no more.

"Bull and his Chargers are escorting them both here, as arranged. Which, I admit, pleases me greatly." He smirked. "We will have a very full House, for a short while. She and Cullen will then return to... well, Ferelden, I suppose. I believe he has family there. The Chargers will escort them out, again."

"Can she still perform magic, with one arm?" Fenris asked.

Both mages nodded. "It's a common misbelief that if you take a mage's hands, they cannot perform magic," Dorian said. "Not true. They would need to do a lot of relearning if they lost both hands, but it could be done. With one hand, Eve will be fine. She's powerful, and resourceful."

"Still, losing a limb is difficult," Anders said.

Dorian nodded. "No doubt. I believe, when you see her with Cullen, your mind will rest at ease. He truly is attentive, in the best of ways. I may bedevil him, but in truth, he's exceptionally good to her. They will have a cordial marriage."

Fenris smirked. "Romantic."

"Perish the thought! My personal interest lies in desire, not romance."

Both men replied. "Liar."

"Have I not made this clear? Tevinter has no room for such idle notions as romance. It's about breeding, alliances and furtive, lusty trysts. Nothing more."

Anders thought about that comment for the rest of the evening. Finally, he brought it to Fenris.

"Do you really believe Dorian when he says there's no romance in Tevinter? That he has no romantic feelings toward The Iron Bull?"

Fenris smiled, and pulled Anders into his lap. He gave the mage's neck a series of kisses, then looked at him with adoring eyes. "I knew that bothered you. You're the romantic, in this House."

"Really... do you think he's putting on an act, or that he doesn't feel that way?"

"Dorian has all the romantic feelings that you or I do. I believe he cares very much for Bull. How much, is difficult to tell until I see them together. Keep in mind the way Dorian was raised, and Tevinter's views on same-gender relationships. He's a noble, he can't show his true feelings."

"That's awful. I don't care if I'm a noble, now. I'm showing my feelings."

Fenris laughed. "When have you ever not expressed your feelings? Except as a slave, and even then, it was hard for you. Take care what you betray to those in your social sphere. Many would find ammunition in such declarations of emotion. Which is why Dorian finds it difficult to tell of his true feelings, even to us."

Anders played his fingers into the elf's silky hair, thinking. "How do you know so much about noble social dynamics?"

Fenris snorted. "Watch the slaves you see when we go out. The ones trotting at heel, those kneeling as the family eats, the ones carrying packages their masters have purchased. They're ignored, like furniture or a dog on a leash. They're forgotten. Yet, they see everything. They hear every conversation. Trust me, Tevinter is awash with love and romance. The only ones who don't know it are those who are trying to hide it. Slaves know more about their masters than their masters do. Before I ran away, I was privy to many secrets and conspiracies. I knew more about the political machinations of Danarius and his cronies than all of them put together."

"Consider this, Anders... think of the things you knew of him, the intimate knowledge forced upon us. Do you remember those who coveted his favor? The men who used us, treating us with disdain enough to discuss private affairs in our presence? Don't think of what they did... breathe, my mage." He rubbed his back, gave him a moment, and Anders calmed. "Remember the conversations. The secrets. The shame of their corruption. These are the sorts of things that could be used, if necessary."

Anders was quiet, mulling it over. He tilted Fenris' chin up, looking into the expressive green eyes and beautiful face of the man he loved.

"I could never ignore you or forget you were beside me. I can hardly take my eyes off of you," he said in wonder.

Fenris gently stroked a finger along Anders' hairline."Because we are one; you're not my master. I'm pleased to be able to blend into the background, in others' vision. I can look upon you to my heart's content. I can make sure you're safe. And, I can hear the talk around us. This will be helpful to you, as you build your life."

"I don't like you being in the background. You deserve the same attention that I get."

Fenris chuckled. "Deserve it, perhaps. But, I don't want it. Have you ever known me to be an attention whore?"

Anders laughed. "Well, no, now that you mention it. You've always preferred the shadows." He thought for a moment. "I was more the attention whore, in Kirkwall."

Fenris laughed. "There was a time you pandered to be heard, yes. Not anymore. I think we will both be jockeying for a position in the shadows, now."

They sat quietly, enjoying the peace of each other's arms.

"I feel both so sad, and so happy for Eve. I'm sorry for what's happened to her, but so pleased that she has Cullen." He paused. "I can't believe I'm happy that a mage is married to a Templar."

Fenris shook his head, smiling. He attacked Anders' neck with more kisses. "How can you have so many feelings, at once, and then not believe that you have them?"

Anders drew the elf in for a long, heated kiss. "It's a very un-Tevinter-like talent," he confessed.

tbc...

Author's Note:

Fenris is the still water that runs deep.

Poor Anders. I feel for him. It's not easy to know that there's things that are just going to be hard. Especially, when there was a time when those things were easy.