DWARVES AND KINGS
Anders' mouth dropped open.
"Yeah, that's about the look I got when the letter was delivered. So, you weren't expecting it, I take it?"
Anders shook his head slowly. He turned and looked at Fenris.
"Don't look at me. I didn't write to him, either. Is this about the Grey Warden project you're working on?"
Anders shrugged.
"You want to come pick it up, tonight?" Varric asked.
Anders shook his head.
"OK. Why don't you come by, tomorrow, around lunch, to get it. We'll eat, and I'll give you a quick tour of the city, with narration."
"You have time in your day for that?" Fenris asked.
"To take a foreign dignitary on a tour? Winning over a Tevinter magister to our Southern ways? No better way to spend my time."
Fenris grinned. "He's an Altus, not a magister."
"Whatever. Sparkler said that, all the time. Now look. Magister! If Anders is an Altus, what are you?"
There was a loud thump as Anders' head hit the table in misery.
Fenris laughed, and rubbed the groaning mage's back. "I'm still a slave, in Tevinter."
"Why? Didn't Dorian buy you both from Danarius' estate? Couldn't he free you?"
Anders wrapped his arms about his head.
Varric looked at the mage in confusion. "What's with Blondie?"
"It's complicated. Anders was adopted into the Pavus Family. But, the only way I can remain in Tevinter, and be safe from enslavement by another magister, is if I'm owned by a strong family."
"So, Dorian still owns you?"
"No..."
"I do..." came Anders' miserable voice. Varric and Fenris looked at each other in surprise.
Anders lifted his head. "I hate it, and if Fenris hadn't insisted on it, I would never have done it. According to Imperial law, Fenris is my slave."
Varric's abrupt, loud, laughter caused heads to turn throughout the tavern. Fenris chuckled with him.
"I'm glad you both think this is so damn funny," Anders complained.
"Blondie-first off-I'm just so tickled that the cat let loose your tongue. And, second-Andraste's tits, that is the funniest damned thing I've ever heard!" The dwarf dissolved into laughter, again.
Fenris pulled Anders to him, kissing his temple. "You have to admit, my mage, the irony is well- developed."
"You're both horrible people," Anders said.
"I'm dying, over here. Oh, why can't I use this stuff? It's beautiful! I couldn't make-up shit this good."
"It doesn't matter. Outside Tevinter, the ownership is null and void. Even in Tevinter, he's not really my slave. He's bossier than I am," Anders said.
"Actually, I was thinking you two were married. What with the matching earrings, and all." Varric was calming himself, polishing off his ale.
"It's purely boy-girl among the Imperium's nobles," Anders said.
"Dorian has a matching hoop, as well. They're symbols of brotherhood," Fenris said.
"You meant it, huh? I'm glad. He needed family that accepted him for who he is. He's a decent guy."
Anders had his head in his hands. "Now, it's going to be all over the city that I'm an evil, slave- owning, Tevinter mage."
"Hey, I hate to say it, but it's a step-up from apostate abomination, Blondie."
"A huge step-up, in my opinion," said Fenris.
"Fine. You can clean my robes when I'm spit upon."
"First one to spit on you, loses their tongue."
Anders gave a small smile, and blinked at the elf. "You say the sweetest things."
"So, what was it that let you talk, O Magister?"
"Maker's breath. My head's not right, Varric. Let's just get that bit of news right out there, in the open. I don't know if there's a reason. With Cullen, it was sort of 'healer mode' kicking in."
"I think it's because you've already known Varric closely for a decade. He's in large part responsible for saving our hides. You know he's one of the good guys." Fenris said.
Varric put a hand over his heart. "Good guy, huh? I'm touched."
"Or, it's because the only thing worse than admitting that I own you, is hearing you say it," Anders said, bitterly.
Varric chuckled. He pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket, and started shuffling. "OK, Blondie, you've got a voice. Let's see if you've got a game."
Fenris signaled the waitress for more drinks. "At least now, he can pay you when he loses."
"That's more than I can say for you, Elf. You still owe me that five sovereigns."
At last, the dwarf, the mage, and the elf sat together over ale and a game of cards.
DADADADADADADADA
Fenris' eyes were being skewered by hot spikes. A huge weight was crushing his skull. A deafening thrum pounded into his brain. He tried to peel an eyelid open, and the spikes twisted in his sockets.
Suddenly, cooling relief washed over him. He groaned in satisfaction, and opened his eyes. The dim light of morning was creeping through the window blind. Tigris was sleeping on his pillow, curved around his head, purring.
"Hangover better?" asked his favorite voice in the world. He felt Tigris being shooed from the bed.
Fenris rolled into the body next to him, and embraced him in gratitude. "You're a good mage," he said.
Anders chuckled. "I have my moments. I've never seen you so drunk. I almost just had us stay with Varric in his room at the Hanged Man, rather than wrestle you home."
Fenris made himself comfortable against his mage. "Why didn't you?"
Anders pressed himself against the elf, erection hard against his belly. "Because I thought this might be inappropriate, come morning."
Fenris felt his body heat at the contact. "You're a naughty mage."
Anders pushed the elf onto his back, lips descending to cover his. Fenris smiled inside. His mage was always ready for a fast frolic in the morning. Fenris hardly minded. He felt himself harden in response to Anders' kiss and gyrating hips. The mage reached a hand and touched himself, casting his preparatory spell.
Pulling Fenris' shaft to full readiness, Anders straddled the elf, and lowered himself. Fenris moaned with happy pleasure. His mage... his beautiful mage... rode him slowly. The elf lay quiescent, letting the delightful sensation of Anders' body roll over him. He opened his eyes, and took in the sight before him.
The sun had managed to find its way past the blinds on the window. A beam lit upon Anders' face, warming his already golden visage. His hair shone like burnished gold, a nimbus around his blissful face. Fenris felt his breath catch... Anders was simply resplendent in his rapture.
The elf reached his hand to caress the mage's face. His mage. So beautiful. The honey-hued eyes opened, half-lidded in pleasure. Fenris sat up, holding Anders against him as they moved together.
"Mine," the elf whispered.
"Yours," the mage replied. His hips rolled as he moved, and Fenris shuddered. "Yours," the mage said again, moving faster.
Fenris groaned, panting, heat curling into his belly. Anders sucked at the lyrium lines on his neck, and the elf whined with the sensation. His hands slid behind the mage's shoulders. He held Anders in place, and drove up into him. "Mine," he gasped, "mine..."
Anders called out, head dropping back. "Maker, yes... yours... always yours..." Fenris felt the mage reach between their bodies, and grasp his own flesh. He felt the hot sheath around him tighten, and drove himself faster and harder into the mage.
"Anders... Anders... with me..." Fenris called. The mage cried out, spasming around the elf's flesh. Fenris shouted, clutching Anders to him as he emptied himself into his body. "Mine... mine... mine," he gasped. His beautiful mage. His perfect Anders. His all. His own self.
They fed each other breakfast. Berries, boiled eggs, candied dates. Without someone preparing their food, or anyone joining them for meals, they lapsed into easy indolence. Meals were generally done with minimal cooking, the food simply eaten from its packaging, no flatware or utensils.
"Why do you think King Alistair wrote to you?" Fenris asked around a mouthful of strawberry. He held an egg to Anders' lips, and the mage took a bite from it.
He shrugged, and swallowed. "I don't know. I didn't write him. Maker, I hope he's not trying to get me back into the Wardens. I won't go." He popped a date into Fenris' mouth. The elf closed his eyes, moaning lightly as he chewed the delicacy.
He opened his eyes to see Anders grinning at him. He swallowed, and the mage plundered his mouth, seeking the taste of the candied date.
"You could just have your own date," he chuckled. Anders shook his head.
"It tastes better on you." He kissed him again, with more heat. Several times, now, feeding each other had evolved into fucking each other. Fenris chuckled into the kiss.
"I'm hungry. And, last time, we knocked the milk bottle on the floor," the elf reminded him.
Anders snorted, but sat back and poked another berry into the elf's mouth. "If you were me, you'd want to have you, too. All. The. Time. You're downright luscious."
Fenris fed more egg to Anders. "Dorian was right. We are libidinous."
"When you're not hungry."
"Well, all those letters Dorian was helping you write, would King Alistair have anything to do with that?"
"Umm. Maybe? Common interests, I suppose. We'll find out, soon enough."
DADADADADADADADADADA
"Anders of House Pavus,
"Well, things have changed, haven't they?
"When first I made your acquaintance, you were conscripted into the Grey Wardens by my queen. Later, became an abomination, killed a few Templars and Wardens, and disappeared without so much as a by-your-leave. Nearly broke her heart; she liked you, you know.
"Years later, I heard from Stroud that you'd been taken captive by a Tevinter magister. Do mages in the Imperium actually do that? Make other mages their slaves? As I understand, your friends were seeking aid to recover you. Whatever you've done in your life, it gained the devotion of some good people. Ferelden's hands were tied, as were the Warden's. We were in no position to help, and I'm sorry for that.
"Now, I hear from Stroud, again. He says you've written him. And, he tells me you're a Tevinter noble. Really? You're living in the Imperium? As a Tevinter noble? Well, I hear the weather is nice there, after all. Your life has taken some strange turns. And, I know something about strange turns.
"But, you're not just any Tevinter noble. You're a Tevinter noble on the verge of a discovery. Which is why I started this letter, in the first place. Stroud is on his way to Warden's Keep, as I write. As is a dwarven inventor named Dagna. And, as is my queen. Your research is apparently very promising, and is being taken to Avernus for further study. Avernus is... creepy. But, a genius in all things taint-related. If your work can bear fruit, that eccentric odd-ball will make it happen.
"As it happens, my queen has been away for some years, now, searching for a way to overcome the Calling. You have come closer to a solution than anyone. As my wife had declared she would not return without a solution, you might imagine my anticipation of the results. Not to mention, the change this could mean for all Grey Wardens, should it succeed.
"The Wardens hold no antipathy for you. They're sort of an all-comer's Order, as you know. I mean, you've met Oghren, right? So, whatever your actions before leaving, not a problem in their eyes. You could return to the Order, if you wanted. I get the feeling that you don't. Fair enough.
"On the downside, the Ferelden Chantry does have a problem with you. They're touchy about mages, you know. Even touchier about mages who kill their Templars. Normally, I can't involve myself in Chantry affairs, which makes us both very happy. However... I do have a few friends in high places. The highest of places, as it turns out.
"In light of your efforts to find a solution to the Calling, the Chantry has revoked its decree to have you taken-in on-sight. Turns out, Divine Victoria, my queen, and I go way back; betrayal, the Blight, ah, good times. Anyway, she's willing to do a small favor for a bastard-turned-Warden- turned-King. You are welcome to return to Ferelden, as a visiting foreigner; or, permanently, to repatriate.
"Anyhow, when you're through with Kirkwall (Stroud says that's where you'll be for a while), or if Tevinter loses its allure, make a trip south. Drop me a letter, should you find yourself in-country. We'll crack a bottle, and talk about how little we miss the darkspawn. Or, even better, how little we miss the taint.
"King Alistair Theirin.
"PS:
"If you're ever in Seheron, and run into the Arishok, tell him 'Hello' for me. On second thought, maybe you should just run. Yes. No shame in running for your life."
The Viscount's study was silent when Anders finished reading the letter aloud. Varric and Fenris stared at him.
"Well... that's what the letter was about," Anders said.
"You're working on a cure for the Calling?" Varric asked. "Damn, they could have used that when Corypheus showed up."
"You know what the Calling is?" Anders was surprised.
"Yeah, it's not much of a secret, anymore. It was a prominent point in the battle against that bastard."
"That's what you've been working on? Why the secrecy?" Fenris asked.
"I didn't want to tell you about the Calling."
"Why?"
"Because, then you'd know I only have 15 years or less before I get mine. Well, I guess you do know, now. I didn't want to worry you."
"Anders, I've known since Eve told me about the Calling, months ago."
Anders was shocked. "She told you? And, you didn't tell me?"
"You never brought it up, so I figured you didn't want to talk about it. It doesn't make me happy, believe me. I want to live to a ripe, old age together. But, I'll take whatever I can get. Every day with you is infinite joy, my Anders. I treasure each one. When the Calling comes, I'll go with you, with no regrets."
Anders closed his eyes and took deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm sure as hell not going to the Deep Roads to die. I'll take a nice, lethal potion, and fall asleep in our own bed."
Fenris moved from his chair, and squeezed next to Anders, holding him. "Then, that's how it will be. We'll fall asleep in each other's arms, and wake in the next realm."
They were startled by the loud blowing of a nose. Varric sat behind his desk, wiping his nose and blinking rapidly.
"Damn it. You two are the dictionary definition of a love story." He tucked his handkerchief away. "I went on a mission with King Alistair, just before Cassandra dragged me to Haven. You could do worse than have him on your Wintersend gift list." He shook his head. "You wouldn't believe how Hawke treated him when he came to see him. Pretty much as Meredith did. It was like Hawke wanted Kirkwall to fall into chaos."
"Perhaps he did. It sounds like Hawke was in chaos, himself. Misery loves company," Fenris said.
"Yeah. Maybe. How'd you come up with a cure?"
"I based it off of the lyrium-purge I did for Cullen's withdrawal. The taint in Grey Wardens is slowed by the combination of lyrium with the darkspawn blood. I thought the modified potion slowed by the combination of lyrium with the darkspawn blood. I thought the modified potion might be able to purge the lyrium, with tainted blood attached, out of the system, the same way," Anders explained.
Fenris smiled proudly at the mage. "You are so brilliant, Anders."
Anders grinned, ducking his head. "Well, let's see if they can get it to work."
"So... you gonna go to Ferelden, then?" Varric asked.
"Not bloody likely. The Chantry and Wardens may not care about me, anymore; but, I've had first-hand reports of paranoia in the country. Eve and Cullen say it's still not entirely stable," Anders said.
"I'm gonna guess mages are treated with less fear down there, than up here. The Gallows mages were so full of fear that a lot of them turned to blood magic. Even with what I saw in Ferelden, I think it's safer there for an openly magey-mage."
Anders shrugged. "Maybe so. Still not as safe as Tevinter."
Varric looked the mage up and down. Since Varric was claiming half the day to 'host a foreign dignitary', Anders had worn some of his more ostentatious robes.
"Well, Blondie, you dressed for the part of a Tevinter mage. I'm guessing Sparkler picked those out for you."
"Says the tiara-wearing dwarf."
"It's not a tiara. It's a coronet. There's a difference." He smirked and shouldered Bianca. "Ready to see the sights?"
As they walked through the city, he filled them in on the mage rebellion. Cullen had given them a brief description of it, but he had a narrow perspective of the event. Varric, of course, had the writer's eye-view.
It had become a case of the two least-stable minds in the pub finally coming to blows. Orsino and Meredith's dance of accuse-and-capitulate escalated into accuse-and-attack. A peaceful demonstration in front of the Chantry had turned ugly when a Templar struck a mage. Another mage fought back with magic, and a brawl ensued. Grand Cleric Elthina had come down from the Chantry to try and mediate, but was struck down. No one agrees how, or by whom, but her death was the catalyst for what came. Meredith ordered the Right of Annulment.
Panic spread through the ranks of mages, and the battle engulfed the city. Mage and Templar fought in the streets. Abominations were born, and ran amuck. Innocents were killed, property destroyed.
Hawke, by now thick-as-thieves with Meredith, with a very large mage-hating chip on his shoulder, had backed Meredith in her lunacy. Aveline, Varric, Isabela, Merrill and Sebastian had come to the aide of the mages. Unfortunately, Orsino had lost his grip in the face of desperation, and resorted to hideous blood magic.
As Meredith and Hawke stood ready to bring down the Annulment, Meredith showed the true depths of her madness, and turned on everyone. Hawke switched sides, and the battle for survival began as the red lyrium of her blade granted the Knight Commander unprecedented powers, bringing statues to life. Eventually, it turned on Meredith, and melded with her. She still stood in the Gallows courtyard, surrounded by a protective perimeter to keep bystanders safe from the stuff.
"It was pretty ugly," Varric said. "Most of the mages fled, Templars went rogue. If it hadn't been for Cullen and Aveline, the city would have fallen, completely. Between the two of them, order was eventually restored. A number of devout Templars remained with Cullen. Some mages and Tranquil requested sanctuary. The Gallows was nearly empty, for a couple years."
As they spoke, they had made the walk to the Docks. A small boat bearing the sigil of the Viscount was sitting in wait. They boarded, and were taken across the harbor toward the Gallows.
Walking into the Gallows courtyard, the large, isolating fence was dominant. In the center of its protected area stood what looked to be a statue. A warrior, kneeling, was cast in red lyrium.
"Well, there she is. Meredith's last stand."
Fenris noticed that the statues that should have served as her backdrop, were gone. "Where are the tortured slave statues?"
"Some were destroyed when they fought for Meredith. I had them all removed. We were going to replace them with Chantry effigies. But, anything we considered just made that," he gestured at Meredith, "seem more macabre than it already is. As a centerpiece, it pretty much dominates the room, you know?"
Commerce continued in the courtyard. Tranquil and mages, alike, sold potions and runed items. The gates to the Circle were open, mages moving in and out at will. A few Templars stood near the gates, and at the entrance to the courtyard. They barely glanced at the mage in Tevinter robes with staff on his back.
Varric watched Anders study the gates to the Circle. "Want to go inside?"
Anders jerked. "What? No. I'm not stepping foot in another southern Circle as long as I live. At least the Imperium allows for proper education and training of mages. They aren't imprisoned and treated with distrust."
Varric laughed. "Damn, Blondie, you are Tevinter, aren't you?"
"Just the good parts. I'm not going all blood-mage-elitist-Dumat-worshipper, or anything."
"Damned right, you're not," Fenris grumbled.
As Varric escorted them through the rest of town, Anders asked about the Darktown inhabitents. Varric said that Darktown had been cleared-out, but not simply run-off. The denizens were provided jobs helping to build an extension to the city's perimeter, into which they moved. An entire new neighborhood with infrastructure, shops, streets, housing. Out of the dark and damp, with employment opportunities in rebuilding and maintenance, the poor and refugees were making lives, and contributing to the city.
Fenris and Anders were astonished. "Varric, if you and Dorian could team-up, you'd cure the world of all its ills," Anders said.
Varric shook his head, scratching under the coronet. "Kirkwall alone is headache enough for me. You can't even imagine the work this took. The fighting for support. The whining of the nobles. Finally, the Chantry helped fund the project. I've got a few friends in high places; one of the same that King Alistair has. Divine Victoria endorsed my proposal for assistance, or it might never have gotten off the ground. Even at that, I called in a lot of favors and loans to get it going. It still has detractors in some corners."
"Your friend in high places is the Divine?" Fenris asked.
"Well, I knew her when she was but a lowly spymaster. Now, she's Divine."
"Even with the Divine's approval, this was a lot of work," Anders said.
"I can't take all the credit. When I left for Haven, the place was a mess. Choirboy had gone back to Starkhaven. He helped to keep peace here, and assisted in recovery efforts. Have you seen the improvements in the Chantry? His doing."
"Sebastian gave up life in the Chantry? I'm surprised," Fenris said.
"I'm not sure what prompted him, but he took the throne. He's still too preachy for my taste, but he's a lot easier to bear since he went secular. I mean, come on, he helped rebuild the city. I can tolerate a lot of Maker-talk for that. He comes around every few months to visit the Chantry. Memories, you know."
"I don't think he liked me, much. Can't say I cared for him, either," Anders said.
"He was better company than Hawke, near the end. Maybe it's just me, but boring beats crazy, any day."
Anders and Fenris shared a look. Yes. They agreed. They'd had more than enough crazy in their life.
tbc...
Author's Notes:
The taint/lyrium stuff... just based off of what Bioware tells us about the joining (lyrium, darkspawn blood, arch demon blood). The potion, again just me. Because I've had people ask in the past, allow me to clarify: this potion would not work for run-o-the-mill Blight infection. Its process is reliant on the lyrium that is used in the Joining.
Ain't it great to have the three together, again?