ANTIPATHY AND ALTRUISM

Fenris sat in the sunlight pouring through their suite window. The book he read was engaging, but his body clamored for activity.

He glanced at the mage sitting at the desk, bent over several books; going from one to the other, making notes in his journal. Anders could spend hours upon hours in research. He completely lost himself.

The elf sighed, and stood. He moved to a clear area of their floor, and went through some sword exercises. He followed this with some lyrium phase-work. It didn't hold his interest. He smirked at himself. So many months ago, Eve had suggested they might be bored in their little room. He'd scoffed at the idea. How time had changed things.

He looked at the mage again, the line of his neck bared by his robes. He approached him from behind, burying his nose in his neck. "I'm bored. What are you working on?"

"Remember Eve said that Cullen quit taking lyrium when he left the templars?"

Fenris breathed in Anders' scent, humming happily. "Yes."

"Well, lyrium withdrawal is pretty miserable. No one's really done any research on lyrium and the non-mage. It's just accepted that Templars will lose their minds to it, eventually. I never cared before... figured they got what they deserved for choosing a career as a massive metal moron. But, listening to Eve talk about Cullen... I kind of feel for the guy. He actually had the sense and sensibility to leave the Order. Maybe he's not so bad."

"I thought you held his 'mages aren't people' speech against him. He did work as Meredith's Captain, all those years."

"Believe me, it's not easy to reconcile that. For all I know, he's a colossal ass, who's got Eve completely cock-blind. But, even Dorian thought he was alright, for a bruiser."

"So what is it you hope to accomplish?" Fenris placed sucking kisses along the mage's neck.

Anders tilted his head to give the elf better access. "Mmm... that's nice... Um. I want to find a way to ease the withdrawal symptoms. Tevinter has looked into this more than the rest of Thedas. Some mages used to go overboard with lyrium, and then would need cleansing. Maker, Fenris..."

The elf nipped along Anders' shoulder as far as he could reach, hands tugging at the mage's robes. "Why all this for a man you barely know?"

Anders started helping Fenris remove the robes. "Not for him, for Eve. She loves him. She'll share in his pain... So, I take it you're not bored, anymore..."

A day came when Dorian had a meeting at the nearby Circle. His offer for Fenris and Anders to join him, and peruse the Circle library while he was in conference, was met with excited acceptance from Anders, and reluctance from Fenris. The elf still had no love for mages, in general. He cared only for those three with whom he'd shared the House. The Circle would be crawling with unknown mages.

Anders and Fenris were both a bit keyed-up. They'd been to many activities with Dorian, but, this would be their first without him beside them. Fenris was certain he and Anders could manage themselves, for a short time. Upon arrival, the Circle was busy, with many notables present for the meeting. Dorian took them inside, and showed them to a small room in a dormitory wing. It was modest, with a large bed and small bath.

"This is a guest room I retain for long conferences. Before I had your excellent company to which to return at home, I typically stayed in the Circle overnight when I came for business. Take the key. If you feel overwhelmed, or desire some quiet, return here and relax. I'll meet you here for lunch."

Once he'd left, they looked at one another with determination. They headed into the unknown, alone.

It was surprisingly uneventful. The library had a few students in it. They both watched from a distance as they practiced their magic. It was entirely unlike the Ferelden Circle. Such freedom. Such self-assurance. Such an absence of Templars. He'd seen the Imperial Templars on the streets and in buildings. Wearing black armor with a white sunburst where the Sword of Mercy would be, in the South; they were less like Templars, and more like city guards. Anders liked that aspect of Tevinter, very much.

Dorian was exited when he met them for lunch.

"I had no idea Belus Wallus would be here. This is delightful"

"Who is he?" Anders asked.

"A sympathizer to my cause. Many call him a bleeding heart, for his beliefs regarding slave treatment and policy in the Imperium. He hasn't freed his slaves. He feels complete freedom for slaves in Tevinter could cause an economic crisis. Done without safety nets in place, it well could. The entire economy here is based on slave labor. He does, however, believe there should be other safety nets in place, to prevent the kind of things you experienced. He proposes guarantees for slave well-being, medical care, grievances. He is a powerful ally, even if he doesn't look as far as freedom for slaves."

"Have you mentioned him before? The name Wallus sounds familiar," Anders mused.

"I don't believe so. I may have."

Fenris grunted around a large mouthful of bread. He looked at Anders and grabbed his own ear, miming a sharp twist. Anders choked on his wine.

Dorian pounded him on the back. "What in the world was that about?"

Anders stared at Fenris. "That was Belus Wallus?" he gasped in disbelief.

Fenris finally managed to swallow his bread. "No. That was Nevus Wallus. His son."

Dorian frowned. "You've met Nevus?"

Fenris answered. "He was an occasional visitor to Danarius' parties."

"He's a sadistic bigot," Anders growled, eyes squinting.

Dorian stared. "Nevus? You're quite sure?"

"Short, round, black hair?"

"That's Nevus. That's disturbing to hear, for more reasons than the obvious. He's the youngest of three sons, yet he purports to be so in-line with his father's philosophies, that Belus has made him his heir. I've not caught sight of Nevus, here, at the least."

Dorian returned to the meeting when lunch concluded.

Fenris pulled Anders to his feet. "Come mage. You have books to search."

Fenris wandered the shelves in view of Anders as the mage did his research. The books in the Circle library could not be removed, so Anders pored through those he chose, taking notes in his tidy, cramped script. Fenris wandered, idly looking at titles. There was little in this library to interest him. The school of magic contained literature about magic. He glanced at Anders, pleased that he seemed so at ease.

"Hello, knife ear... all alone?" Fenris spun about. Nevus Wallus stood uncomfortably close, leering at him. "I'd heard Dorian had bought you from the estate. Left you to fend for yourself, did he?" Nevus leaned forward, one arm against the bookshelf behind Fenris, the other hand coming up to stroke a pointed ear.

Fenris' first instinct had been to make a defensive maneuver, any kind of maneuver. The instant Wallus leaned close and touched his ear, his mind splintered. He was lost in the past; the pain of violation, cruel laughter as his ears were twisted and pulled, used to hold and move him as Wallus desired.

His heart launched into a panicked gallup. He heard his own voice barely escape his lips, "...no..."

Suddenly, the offending hand was caught in a tight grip. Fenris felt the hair-raising sensation of electricity as it traveled through Nevus' body, drawing the man unnaturally straight.

"Touch him again, I will kill you," Anders' voice ground out.

With his other hand, Anders pulled Fenris to him. Anders' face was a mask of fury.

The electric shock wore off as Nevus stood there. Noting Anders' dress and amulet, he realized he faced an equal. "I do apologize. I had no idea he was yours. I've met him, before, you see."

"Yes, I saw. You're a vile, sadistic, pig. If you so much as look at Fenris again, I'll fry your bollucks where they hang."

"Who are you to talk to me this way? I've half a mind..."

"I'd wager you've less. Anders of House Pavus." Clearly, Nevus didn't recognize Anders as one of the slaves he'd so carelessly used in years past.

Anders continued, his magic lingering on hand as he spoke. "I understand your father is in the conference. Perhaps he'd enjoy a detailed account of your sycophantic visits to Danarius' House?"

Nevus was jarred, but rallying. "You have no proof. You're a stranger, and a foreigner. Father wouldn't give you the time of day."

"I wouldn't ask for the time of day, you pinhead. What I would do, is give names, events... hell, I'll even describe the birthmark on your flabby ass."

Fenris could see that Nevus was concerned. However Anders had managed to foster the courage for this interaction, he was playing it well. Such information could cause Nevus' fall from his father's graces. Both men felt the pull of energy as Nevus prepared to cast. His own energy already waiting, Anders hit him with a simple static cage. "Too slow, swine. Heed my very serious warning: you touch Fenris, you will die."

He spun around, pulling the elf with him, and stalked from the library.

As soon as their room door slammed shut, Anders took the elf into a tight embrace. Fenris buried his head against his chest, heart racing, throat closing against a whine he felt trying to break free.

"Fenris... are you alright?" Fenris shook his head, fists clenched against Anders' robes. He felt pressure in his chest, burning ice in his heart. His body shook with tremors. He didn't know if it was anger or fear, but he felt it was tearing him apart.

Anders tried to look into his face. "Fenris?"

With a harsh cry, Fenris shoved himself away from Anders. He wrapped his arms around his stomach. He felt his gauntlets against his arms, and suddenly ripped them off.

"What use is all this, if I can't even use it when the time comes?" he exclaimed, yanking at the buckles that held his armor on. The whine crawled from his throat as he threw his armor and blade on the floor. "I couldn't even defend myself... what if he'd seen you, first? Recognized you? What good am I if I can't protect you?" He looked at Anders in misery. "I fell apart. I didn't think to activate my lyrium. Didn't remember my sword. I stood there like a beaten slave and allowed him to touch me."

Anders watched the elf as he slowly imploded. His great, green eyes filled with sorrow. His hands flattened over his ears. "I'm supposed to protect you..." he said, helplessly.

He allowed Anders to hold him, then. He buried himself in the mage, hiding his face in shame. He felt Anders walk him to a couch, and pull the elf onto his lap. Anders pressed his lips into the elf's hair and rubbed his back.

"I've got you, love. We're safe, now." Fenris shook his head. "We are, and you have nothing for which to feel shame." Fenris shook his head again, and put his fingers against Anders' lips, stilling them. The mage kissed his fingers, and stayed silent. Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders' chest, and buried his face in his neck. His mouth opened against the mage's skin, and he tasted comfort.

Anders sat quietly, and held his elf.

In time, the door opened, and Dorian stepped through. He noted the elf's armor and weapon scattered all over the floor. The sight of Fenris taking solace in Anders' lap surprised him. It had been some months since he had sought comfort.

Anders met his eyes, and continued to slowly rub the elf's back.

Dorian pulled a chair close. "Nevus?" Anders nodded.

"The little shit," Dorian muttered. "I passed him outside the conference room. Looked in a pique. Are you alright?"

Anders nodded. He spoke softly. "He approached Fenris in the library. He cornered him, touched him. Fernis had a hard time. I dealt with Wallus, but... he's upset that he wasn't able to protect us. He's as disturbed by that as he was by Wallus." Dorian nodded in understanding.

Fenris' muffled voice spoke. "Do not speak as though I am not present," he grumbled.

Anders pressed a kiss against his temple. "Then, join the conversation, love."

Fenris shook his head. "There's nothing to say. I failed you."

"Stop this, Fenris. You didn't fail at anything."

Fenris pulled away from Anders and stood to pace slowly. "I'm supposed to take care of you. The first time trouble crosses my path, I fall apart. What if you'd needed me? I'm supposed to take care of you!"

"Fenris... we take care of each other. I know you end up doing most of the caretaking, but, I can take care of you, too. If I'd been in trouble, you'd have found a way to handle it. This time, you needed me, so I handled it." Fenris looked at him doubtfully. "It's what we do. It's what we've always done."

Fenris scowled, and hung his head. "I don't want to need to be taken care of."

"I believe that's my line. We both have broken pieces in us. Until they mend-or, if they don't- we'll just have to take turns playing the gentleman-in-distress."

Fenris sat on a hassock, rubbing his ear. "I still feel his touch," he grumbled. He looked at Anders and sighed. "Fine... but, I'm not happy about it."

Anders quirked the corner of his mouth. "Really? Because, I couldn't tell."

Dorian finally held up his hands. "Would one of you mind telling me about the squabble with Nevus Wallus?"

Fenris sat next to Anders, again, for the retelling. Anders stroked his fingers along Fenris' neck while he told the events. As the mages spoke, Fenris lost some of his self-recrimination. He was pleased with how well Anders had handled it. So was Dorian.

"Anders... I'm amazed you were able to find your voice! And, I'm relieved you've got so much actual battle experience behind you. You managed yourself, well. What you said was a stroke of brilliance. It's left me in a very good position for our next move. There is a dinner being held for those at the conference. Would you care to join me? I'll be speaking with Belus Wallus about some interesting information that's just landed in my hands."

"No, thank you," both replied.

"I'll have something sent up, then. Give me the details you have on Nevus."

Dorian left the room with a wicked gleam in his eye. Shortly after, a tray was sent for both of them. They fed themselves and each other, in their usual fashion.

"Are you alright, Fenris?" Anders asked, softly.

Fenris shrugged. "I suppose. I haven't felt that way in months. I was completely unprepared for it. We had just discussed it, too. I'm at a loss."

"He touched you. He stood in front of you and spoke his vile words. Reality always defeats theory. When I saw him there, with you, I had a flash of the past, as well."

Fenris leaned into the mage, and sighed. Anders circled him with his arms, and tilted the elf's head up to look at him.

"He will never hurt you, again." He kissed him, sweetly. "Never again." He continued kissing him. Fenris felt his unease drift away, held in the arms of his mage, feeling the warmth of his kiss. He felt wonderfully safe, insulated, shored. Anders had protected him. Had left the pig vulnerable with a few spoken words and judicious use of magic. His shame was replaced with pride. Pride in his mage.

Their kiss was slow, chaste, comforting. Anders gently caressed his ears, as though soothing the pain of the past. Fenris' skin tingled under his touch. Anders pulled from the kiss, whispering against the elf's lips.

"You should never be hurt. You should be worshipped... so beautiful... so perfect." The words, spoken in Anders' loving, soft voice, filled his heart. He sighed contentedly, and took the mage's lips, resuming the kiss.

Anders' hands continued to caress him, gentle, ghosting over skin, lyrium lines, hair. He traced his arms, his fingers entwining with the elf's. Anders brought his hands up and moved his kiss to Fenris' fingers. Each finger, and his palms, received the adoration of his lips.

Fenris shivered with the sensations. When Anders began slow, sucking kisses along the lines of his throat, Fenris moaned. The mage, intoxicated by the lyrium and the elf's skin, mouthed hungrily at him. "Fenris," he panted, "If you're too upset for this..."

Fenris ran his hands into the short, honey-colored hair of the mage. "No... Maker, no. Please, continue..."

Anders scooped the elf into his arms and carried him to the bed. He quickly divested them of their clothing, and tucked them into the bedding.

Anders continued where he'd left off, and traveled the length of the elf's body with his hands and mouth; kissing and caressing every inch of skin between his head and his toes.

By the time the mage returned up his body to nuzzle his hard shaft, Fenris was moaning with the sweet sensations coursing through his body. Anders placed small, delicate kisses along his length, a brief swirl of tongue on the dusky head. Fenris twitched, gasping at the soft stimulation. The delicate kisses became sucking ones, the swirl of tongue became broad swipes. Paying close attention to the lyrium lines decorating the elf's shaft, Anders laved the weeping member.

Fenris moaned with each breath, hands gripped in the bedding. "Anders... please, more..."

The mage gently touched the elf's entrance. A small burst of magic was followed by the curious sensation of being opened, lubricated. "Are you alright?" Anders asked. Fenris nodded frantically. He was better than alright.

Moving over him, the mage positioned himself. He leaned on his elbows, cradling the elf's head in his hands. Fenris returned his gaze, panting, wanting. "Oh, love," Anders breathed... and, slid home.

The elf arched his back, legs wrapping Anders' waist. A long, desperate moan broke from his throat. Anders closed his eyes, breathing. Pulling out gently, his hips snapped back in. Both men exclaimed. Anders set such a slow, deep pace, Fenris was floating in a cloud of pleasure. In all of their consensual joinings, Anders had never penetrated, he always received. The elf never pressed him, he was content with everything they shared. This protective, worshipful lovemaking was achingly beautiful. Fenris had never felt such a slow, sweet rise to passion.

He rocked with the mage, the pace making his body frantic with want. He cried out, desperate for more, yet, delighted that the mage wouldn't give it. Anders hissed with controlled effort, cheek pressed against Fenris'. The elf latched his mouth onto Anders' neck, suckling, licking, holding him close. The mage groaned aloud, fingers curling into Fenris' silky hair. His hips sped up, and both cried out with relief and want.

"Fenris... never pain, again... never..." he rasped into the elf's ear. "Oh, Maker... you feel so good. So close... so perfect."

The elf tossed his head, cries becoming shouts. Anders let go of his control, and rode his passion. He angled himself, and felt the elf bow his back with a whine when he found his sweet spot. Anders pummeled it, voice raised with harsh cries.

Fenris clung to him, feeling himself drawing close. "Anders... Anders-Maker-yes-Anders-yes..." With sudden, blinding rapture, the elf crested, body convulsing with pleasure. Anders held him tightly, his body teetering on the edge... then, he fell over.

With hoarse cries, he spilled himself inside Fenris' body, hips making deep, hard, final thrusts. "Fenris... sweet Fenris..." He collapsed against the elf, and buried his face in his neck.

Fenris basked in a tremendous after-glow. He felt utterly cherished. Anders always touched him lovingly, treated him with devoted adoration. But, this had felt so protective, so completely reverent... He nuzzled against Anders, tickling his ear, making him chortle.

"My beautiful elf," Anders murmured, nuzzling the pointed ear, in return. "I love you, sweet Fenris."

Fenris smiled. "I love you, my mage. I'm so proud of you. I can't believe you spoke to a stranger. I wish it could have been someone other than it was."

Anders glowed with the elf's praise. Then, he sighed. "I suppose we should dress before Dorian returns. As big a fan as I am of compromising positions, he's met us with our skirts up once too many."

When the mage in question returned, he was bright-eyed and grinning. "Let's get to the carriage. I'll tell you all about it during the drive home."

Long story short, the elder Wallus was greatly displeased with his youngest son's activities. Dorian's spin on the circumstances, and his knowledge of names and events, were convincing. Like most bullies, Nevus was a coward. He didn't try to defend himself, and, gracefully as a roach like him could, he accepted his father's censure. He was no longer Belus' heir.

"I'm afraid you've made a bit of an enemy of Nevus Wallus," Dorian said.

Fenris sneered, "He made himself an enemy of ours years ago."

"Belus is interested in the names of any others who attended Danarius' parties," Dorian offered. "Those are the kind of people who would resist our sort of reform, vehemently."

Anders sighed. "I don't want to think about it." Fenris took his hand.

"I can tell you several. Does Belus know where you're getting this information?"

"He knows it's from a slave formerly owned by Danarius. It would neither gain you, nor lose you, anything should he know more. Belus was appalled. You have his sympathy."

Fenris grunted. "We'll talk about it, later. We've had enough memories, today."

For all the trauma and drama they had found while at the Circle, the library had provided Anders with much needed clues to his research. Lyrium dependency and delirium were reportedly caused by the build-up of lyrium waste-product in the body. Certain aspects of lyrium could not be metabolized, nor excreted, by a non-magical being. The more of these waste products, the more the body wanted lyrium to offset the balance. Throughout the ages, mages of the Imperium had made heavy use of lyrium for power. They had, occasionally, utilized so much lyrium that their bodies could not manage the build-up. A potion had been developed to cleanse the body of these. It was little known, now, unfortunately. Blood magic was more commonly deployed than huge amounts of lyrium.

He conferred with Dorian. Between them, they concluded the potion would not be harmful to a non-mage. However, for a short period, the recipient would be quite ill, as the body was flushed of lyrium waste.

The three men visited an apothecary in the city. Anders had hoped to discuss the potion, himself. The familiar feeling of his throat closing-up hit as soon as he approached the counter. It was Dorian who commissioned the potion. The apothecary also confirmed that it would be harmless to a non-mage. It would be ready in a few days.

His disappointment with his continued inability to speak to an outsider was outweighed by his thrill that he may have found a cure for Cullen's lyrium withdrawal. Eve had been their savior, alongside Dorian. She'd brought them back to health, and guided them through much of their emotional maze. If Anders could make her life any happier, he would try. Helping her new husband might just do that; if Cullen was willing to take the potion.

tbc...

Author's Notes:

Fenris hides his fears well, but they're still there. Going 'live' is harder than we think. And, sometimes, we find strength for others that we can't for ourselves.

I'm basing the lyrium properties off of various drugs and such, plus my own assumptions.