This chapter did not want to be written! And I forgot to post it everywhere else beside the k!meme. Oh dear. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!
The second the cry of 'land ho!' reached the lower deck, his healer was on the move.
"Damn it Fenris, I've been in bed the whole voyage," the man snapped when the elf tried to herd him back into the safety and comfort of the sheets. "I'm fine, I've been cooped up this whole trip, and I'm in need of fresh air. I'm going above deck, with or without you at my side!"
Anders got his way, and it wasn't very long before he and the mage were topside, both leaning over the railing to get a better look at the first sight of land.
Fenris stared. He'd never been further south than the Wounded Coast outside of Kirkwall. For his first southern city, it was…
"Ah, Denerim," Anders sighed. "The smelly city of mud, dogs, mud, and templars. I'll feel right at home!"
"You sound positively thrilled," Fenris said dryly. The mage had not been joking about the smell; they hadn't even reached port yet and the elf caught a whiff of what he recognized as a mixture of human waste and mud.
"I may be an Anders," the mage grinned. "But Fereldan really is home for me. Even if it means confronting the Commander. Again," he added with a shudder.
"Oh, don't worry my friend," Zevran chuckled from behind the pair, coming up between them and taking a gander himself. Fenris stiffened at the nearness of the assassin, but the blonde elf continued, oblivious to Fenris' discomfort.
"I shall endeavor to make sure my Warden fully understands the circumstances of you deserting your post. I will make sure to…how do you say it? Take the edge off of her before you see her."
Fenris fought the urge to gag over the banister.
"I'd appreciate any help I can get," Anders said. "I grew up with her in the Circle, and I still remember her temper. And I thought red-heads were temperamental…"
"Any embarrassing stories of the great Hero?" Zevran asked excitedly. "She hardly ever speaks of her past, perhaps you could provide more insight?"
"Beyond having a few general classes and fooling around together a handful of times? No, not really."
Anders and Zevran continued chattering in the background as the ship docked, but Fenris was unable to focus on the conversation, instead frowning moodily down into the water.
He had known that the mage had had previous experiences, but hearing that he had 'fooled around' with his commander, before she was the Hero? Somehow, that bothered him. Especially when Zevran, the Hero's own lover, seemed very cavalier about it, and Anders didn't have a problem admitting it.
It was all…strange to him. The whole situation, and the odd feelings cropping up at inappropriate times.
He pushed it aside, opting to focus on watching the docks as they landed.
It took them several minutes to disembark, but they were soon on their way. Wynne quickly left them, stating she had errands to do before heading to meet a friend of hers in Cumberland.
"Take care of Anders," she told Fenris sternly. "If I hear you let him get into trouble, you'll get a thorough finger wagging!"
"Yes ma'am," he said, though he tempered his sharp response with a cheeky grin. "I'll take good care of him."
Denerim was not entirely what Fenris expected it to be – all he really had to go on was a few vague comments from Anders, more unclear comments from Ferelden refugees in Kirkwall, and what propaganda of the barbarian capital city had reached his ears while he was still a slave in Teventer.
The crowds of people were expected, he was able to mentally prepare himself for the jostling and pressing movements as strangers moved around them or with them as they made their way through the streets. The smell wasn't as strong once you got past the docks, and he silently thanked their fortune that they seemed to not attract any cutpurses or muggers.
However, with Zevran as their guide, he couldn't fully relax. Especially when the assassin led them right into a whore house.
"Why are we here?" Fenris asked, trying his hardest not to sneer at the few workers milling about with wan and uninterested smiles. A red-headed male elf passed by, offering him a wink and a salacious smile that made Fenris' hackles rise. The elf quickly scurried away at the look on the warrior's face.
"Apologies, my friend," Zevran said, not sounding sorry at all. "This is where we're supposed to meet up with the Commander. I'll go see if she's here, or if she left a message."
Fenris waited with Anders at a table to the side of the entrance; they could watch who came in, would have the element of surprise if anyone unsavory came in and still had their backs to the wall.
"Wise choice," he said to the mage.
"Old habits," Anders replied drily.
Fenris nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt something brush his knee, but relaxed when Anders muttered a soft apology, and his hand found the elf's under the table, gently massaging Fenris' palm. Fenris glanced around the empty room warily; the whores had gotten wise and were now ignoring them, and Zevran was still talking to the Madame about the whereabouts of his Warden. Deciding to indulge a little, he allowed the contact, squeezing gently in return.
"You might laugh at this, but I think you're bringing out my non-existent romantic side," Anders said quietly, amusement dancing in his eyes when the elf turned to look at him.
"I'm not some woman for you to coddle," Fenris huffed. "I don't need romance. Just some time to…get used to this," he accented his statement with a stronger squeeze.
"I know, without any trace of a doubt, that you are a man," Anders said. "After all, I've seen you naked more times than you probably would care to know."
"And does that please you? To have seen me at my most vulnerable?"
Anders tilted his head at him, looking thoughtful, then amused. "Not really. Don't get me wrong," he added quickly, probably seeing the disappointment on the elf's face. "You're gorgeous. It's just…I saw most of you when you were…unhealthy. I'd rather see you covered, healthy and happy instead of naked and miserable."
"I…thank you?"
"You're welcome," Anders said brightly.
They stayed like that until Zevran came stalking back over. When he got close, Anders squeezed Fenris' hand once, and then let go as the assassin proceeded to fill them in.
"Well, I have bad news and good news. Children, which would you like to hear first?"
Fenris glanced at Anders, then at the other elf. "Bad news," he and his healer both intoned.
"Bad news is…mi amora has been delayed," Zevran frowned, weight shifting from one foot to the other. "She sent a letter letting me know that she ran into some political problems back at the Keep, and should be here in another week or so."
"A week?" Anders asked, sounding unsure. Fenris supposed he just wanted to get his meeting with his Commander over with; now he had more time to stew and worry.
"Afraid so, at the very least," Zevran said. "But, the good news is that she has paid for our room, and the Madame assured me that there are jobs and errands about to be had so we can make some coin ourselves."
"Coin?" Fenris asked.
"Room?" Anders echoed in the same tone.
"Si and si," Zevran beamed, sunny disposition back once again. "We have a whole room complete with a private wash room at our disposal, and there is opportunity to fill our coin purses. A lucky break for us, don't you agree gentlemen?"
"Why do we have only one room?" Anders asked, eyes narrowing at the assassin. "You think I'm going to run off again, don't you?"
"To be fair, you are not exactly a shining example of steadfastness when it comes to Warden business," Zevran shrugged. "And it's cheaper. The Warden only sent enough for one room and a few meals. She knows we will come up with the rest on our own."
As they trumped upstairs to their room, Fenris wondered idly if Anders was upset at the lack of trust, or with the fact that they would all have to share one bed.
Perhaps both, he mused silently.
"Just a moment, I must have a word with our brooding friend here," Zevran chuckled as they came to their door. "Pardon us."
Without giving him a chance to respond, Zevran promptly grabbed Fenris by the shoulder, steering him down the hallway away from his healer. Fenris snarled in Tevene at the assassin, but the blonde elf ignored him.
"My friend, I would ask a favor of you," he said instead. "No, forget it, I am now calling up the favor you owe me."
Fenris stiffened, still in the assassin's grasp. "If what you want is anything of an intimate nature-"
"Tempting, but I take my job a bit more seriously than that," Zevran barked. "I want you to promise me that you will watch our mage and make sure he doesn't escape during our stay here. If you do that, I will consider us even."
"How do you know I won't agree and then go back on my word?" Fenris asked, jerking out and away from the other elf's touch.
"Because you are an honorable man, I feel, and you don't like having debts over your head," Zevran shrugged. "Also, if you help him escape…well, I would be under a great deal of stress, you see," he chuckled. "I'm no longer a true contracted Crow, but I do owe my life and my allegiance to my Warden. And she wants your Anders. That's a lot of stress for me, because if I fail her, it would disappoint her. And if I disappoint her, it wounds me. And if it wounds me, then there is a great chance that I won't have sex that night. And a lack of sex, or the threat of it, makes me very, very shaky. So much so, that if I were to chase him down and corner him, I might just…slip…"
"You would kill a man you took great pains to save from torture and Tranquility?" Fenris said, eyes glaring down at the smaller elf.
Zevran shrugged. "I was hoping we could avoid that. I'm just asking you, his concerned lover-"
"We're not lovers," Fenris snapped.
"-to watch out for him," Zevran finished. "Can you do that? If not for our debt, then perhaps for his life?"
Fenris toyed with the idea, for a moment, of denying the assassin's request. In the end, caution won out.
"Very well," he responded. "I will make sure he does not escape. Should I tie him to the bed as well?"
"Only if that's what you two want to do in private when I'm not there," Zevran winked. "Unless you want me to watch? I like watching. But no, seriously," he added. "I don't mind if you take him with you when you go on a job or something. Just make sure not to lose him."
Fenris wearily made his way back to their room, taking a moment to look over the arrangement.
Well, the bed was certainly large enough for three men, he noted. It was spacious and clean, so he supposed he should be thankful for that much.
Anders was already opening the windows in the room. "A little fresh air in here wouldn't hurt," he told Fenris. "I'm taking a bath though. Unless you want to go first?"
Fenris shook his head. "That's alright. You can have the honors."
"Good," Anders sighed, making a beeline for the bathroom. "And, oh, happy days, it has actual Maker blessed plumbing!"
Chuckling, Fenris set his things on the floor, listening as the mage set about getting his bath water.
As he looked out one of the windows onto the small street below, his mind wandered. He wondered where Isabela was, and if she was enjoying herself. He wondered if Danarius' new pet was acting the way it was supposed to. He wondered how Anders looked with wet hair, water slinking down his fair skin in rivulets, creeping down and over the planes of his chest-
He shook his head, trying to dislodge such thoughts.
"Fenris?"
The elf stilled, turning to look back at the healer, who was peaking at him from behind the bathroom door.
"Would you spot me? I probably shouldn't be alone doing this and I need help washing my back."
Swallowing, Fenris gave a nod and followed Anders into the room. When the mage started pulling his clothing off, the elf coughed, and politely turned his back. The mage stilled, then spoke, sounding amused.
"I don't mind if you look, Fenris. Don't you want to even the score a little?" he teased.
Fenris had to admit the mage was right on several points. He did want to see the healer without clothing, though it wasn't for evening the score between them. He was startled to realize that, for all the times Anders had seen him nude, or close to, Fenris had yet to see the mage's back, or wearing anything less than long trousers.
"Fenris?"
Fenris cleared his throat, slowly turning back to look at his healer, eyes raking in his form.
He wasn't skinny, but the mage still bore the marks of his recent captivity, in both his wounds and in his pinched-looking frame. Other than that…
Fenris' eyes caught the color of light hair on Anders' chest, following it down slowly to his navel. Unconsciously, he licked his lips, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers in the hair there, and even lower-
Anders chuckled, and began to shuck his trousers off. Fenris couldn't help but stare. Anders was tall, and he had the long legs for the height afforded to him. The swell of his rear was enticing, and his cock-
Well now, he mused, looking at the organ in question. Someone was certainly happy.
"Sorry," Anders said lightly, dropping his clothes and carefully climbing into the tub. "Whenever you look at me like that, it…excites me."
"I have no problems with that," Fenris said, clearing his throat as he walked over, still enjoying the sight of the mage, now wet, sitting before him, so open and trusting. He knelt beside the tub, reaching for a cloth to help his healer with his back.
Now that he was closer, he could see that Anders was not without his own markings – slightly off skin coloring, pale jagged edges of scars, and duller patches of skin adorned the mage almost as much as Fenris' markings covered the elf. Sensing his unvoiced questions, the mage spoke.
"Most of those are from my Warden days," he said quietly.
Fenris paused, then after wetting the cloth, gently touched a thumb sized blotch on the mage's right bicep.
"Bolt from a Darkspawn crossbow," Anders said. "I was lucky it just went into my arm and not my side."
The cloth drifted down to his ribs, where a thin scar cut across the rib cage. "I just barely missed getting impaled by a spear."
Fenris considered the wound, frowning. "Anders, you have healed worse than this and have not left scars. Why weren't these…?"
"Darkspawn wounds, for whatever reason, don't heal as well, no matter how much healing you pour into them," the mage said, reaching for the bar of soap and starting to lather up his hands. "Trust me, most of them are not as bad as they look. They just didn't heal properly."
Fenris nodded, taking the soap and lathering the cloth. He spent the next few moments silently tending to the mage's back while Anders took care of his front. After rinsing the soap from Anders' back, Fenris started to gingerly wash the back of the mage's neck. A happy hum gave him the courage to continue, soaping the other man's neck, throat, his shoulders-
He halted, staring at the wound before him, staring up at him blatantly from the sensitive area between Anders' neck and shoulder. He touched it carefully, fingers feeling the smooth edges. Anders stilled.
"That…was from a Templar. When I joined with Justice."
"This should have killed you," Fenris replied quietly. "Or, at the very least, incapacitated you."
"They were no match for Justice, especially when he was afraid for me."
"A demon saving the life of a mage," Fenris snorted. "You don't hear that every day, do you?"
"He was no demon," Anders retorted, though without heat. "Can we not do this? I don't…I don't want to argue. Not now, anyway."
"I apologize," the elf offered, lightly brushing his fingers over Anders' nape. "Let's finish cleaning you up."
After Anders was dressed once more, he urged Fenris to take his turn.
"It's just the thing, after a long voyage cooped up on a ship," he said, offering the elf a playful grin. "I'll spot you and wash your back too, if you want."
Fenris hesitated, mulling it over in his mind. "Do as you wish," he finally said. With a shrug, he led the way back into the bathroom, Anders hot on his heels.
The elf didn't waste time stripping down once the bath was drawn, climbing into the hot water with a hiss, then a sigh as he sank, blissfully happy now, into the water. Anders appeared overhead, looking amused.
"Told you so," he smiled.
Fenris rolled his eyes, his 'hurrumph' turning into a happy sigh as Anders started scrubbing his back. The elf leaned forward a little, granting the mage more access, and the healer took advantage. Fenris bit his lip as the cleaning took on a more intimate air as the mage started pressing harder against him, relaxing tense muscles and spreading a little pleasure over Fenris' frame. His cock started to respond, swelling slowly under the mage's attentions to the rest of his body.
"Is this alright?" Anders asked gently, his hands rubbing Fenris' neck.
The elf groaned, but nodded. He heard the mage chuckle.
"Are you enjoying my attention, serrah?"
Fenris' lips quirked up in a small smile. "You could say that."
"Oh, I'd definitely say that," the mage's voice said, sounding devilish right next to his ear. "I'm not the only one who gets a little excited now and then, am I?"
"I never denied it," Fenris huffed.
"Fenris."
The elf in question opened his eyes, looking up at his friend. The mage was looking at him, eyes warm and considering. Slowly, very slowly, he leaned down, pressing his lips to Fenris'.
The elf opened his mouth, welcoming the mage and enthusiastically returning the kiss. Anders made a pleased sound, his hands leaving the elf's body and moving to cradle his face tenderly, his own experienced tongue urging the elf to a slower speed. They continued like this for some time, languidly dueling back and forth until Fenris reluctantly pulled back, enjoying the caress of the other man's fingers on his face as he pulled away.
"May I touch you?"
Fenris stared at the mage, taking in the other man's passionate look, his concern, and what looked like utter need in his eyes. His body was yelling at him to accept, to yield and enjoy what this man, this mage, was offering him.
Instead, he pulled further away, grabbing a towel and climbing out.
"Fenris? What's wrong? What did I do wrong?"
The elf winced at the panicked tone in his healer's voice. "Nothing, Anders," he said as he toweled off. "I just…I don't…I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet."
"Oh," the mage said, looking more concerned now. "I'm not pushing you too hard, am I? I don't want to make you afraid or uncomfortable-"
"Peace, healer," Fenris cut in, wrapping the towel around himself and heading back into the main room. "It's just my nature. I danced around Hawke for almost four years before everything…happened. In some ways, this…thing of ours is progressing faster than I had anticipated."
"Would you like me to back off?" the mage offered. "If this is too fast…"
Fenris considered for a moment as he dropped the towel, pulling his clothing on quickly, aware that he was giving the mage a show, a tease of what the other man couldn't have - yet.
"No. I didn't say I wasn't enjoying this. I like that we're doing this slowly. Just keep doing what you've been doing, and we will be fine."
Anders stared at him. "You want me to keep perving over you?"
The elf laughed. "I suppose I can allow that. I meant with the asking before you did anything serious, but yes, you may continue to fantasize if you like."
"Oh," the mage brightened at once. There was a spark in his eyes that sent a thrill through Fenris- a look that promised trouble. "Good."