Time slowed and condensed for Fenris as the healer was taken from him. He could barely draw breath as he watched the mage being forced up into the saddle, felt his own throat closing as the noose tightened around Anders neck, and when the mage called out to him, his heart skipped a beat.
It had sounded like…but that wasn't…was it? No one could love someone as twisted as him, he was wishing for the stars-
"You are MINE, little wolf."
Yes.
And then the horse was taken out from under the mage, the noose tightening around his neck and his feet swinging in mid-air. The world dimmed, discolored, warped-
"For who want a deformed, temperamental thing like you?"
No one.
Fenris roared, but he couldn't hear himself screaming. The guards were holding him back, but he only had eyes for the flailing man hanging from the tree like morbid fruit. The world dimmed and grayed around him, only Anders' thrashing, struggling body holding any true color.
"No one, little wolf, my Fenris."
Yes.
Anders was in trouble. Anders was dying.
"I am all you have."
Yes.
He turned, desperate, eyes and mouth begging to prince for mercy, to let the mage live.
"Mercy, my wolf? You deserve no such thing!"
Sebastian did nothing, his eyes only on the swaying body dangling from the tree.
"Your affection is appreciated, my Fenris, but not necessary. I am all you need and I am everything to you, am I not?"
Yes…
Fenris turned back to look at Anders, whose struggles were weakening even as his face started turning blue and his eyes bulged grotesquely.
No…
Gentle, understanding Anders, with his wonderful hands and cock sure grin-
No…
Anders, who tasted of tea and honey and something all his own flavor-
NO…
Anders, who brought him as much pleasure and more than what he had had with Hawke…was now dangling lifeless in front of him, his hands and feet twitching and his eyes rolling up into the back of his head.
ENOUGH!
With a suddenly clear and loud bellow, the elf forced his way through the guards, through the rope that bound him, his scars burning and his skin on fire but he couldn't stop-
He was dying- he was being torn to pieces, mind, body and soul. He could feel himself coming apart at the seams, his body rebelling and fighting to remain solid, his burning flesh and choked cry filling the air, blood running…everywhere. He could feel his lungs, his arteries, his organs trying to give in and collapse, but the magic sustains him, keeps him from giving up his life. His throat is burning, burns, burned-
He wants to disappear into the table. His body would welcome that.
He should be solid but that wouldn't help…wouldn't help…
Anders!
-and he charged towards the mage, dodging the few guards and reaching the man who had saved him in more ways than one.
"Healer," he said, tone begging as he positioned himself beneath the body, grabbing the man's legs and supporting the mage's weight. "Please…do not die."
With his weight now supported, the rope no longer dug into the healer's neck. It took the man's body several tense, silent moments before he drew in a sharp, shaky breath, the air wheezing through his windpipe. It wasn't as deep as it should be, but already his color was returning.
Fenris silently thanked Andraste and the Maker before shifting his attention to the rest of the courtyard, shifting his weight nervously, his fingers clutching the unconscious mage determinedly.
Sebastian stood now, eyes looking at the elf with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.
"Fenris," the prince said softly. "Come away from there."
"Come to my side, little wolf. You don't belong with these savages."
The elf glared at him, his markings flaring once more in pain. "No," he gritted out.
"Fenris," Sebastian repeated, much more sharply this time. "Get away from him and let the Maker handle this!"
"Kill them, Fenris."
"I will not stand by and let this mage die," Fenris said quietly, feeling lightheaded as his marks again pulsed duly. But he couldn't fall, he told himself desperately. Not until Anders was safe.
"Fenris," Sebastian said, voice controlled and tight. "Move."
"Move, my pet…yessss…"
"No!"
Fenris, despite his courage, couldn't help the flinch he made when Sebastian suddenly brought his bow to bear on the unarmed elf. The prince's bow, an heirloom to the Starkhaven royal family, was trained on him; how many times had he seen the prince wield it for Hawke, downing enemies long before they could reach him or their other comrades? How often had Fenris seen that bow become nothing but a blur of color and speed as the prince dealt death as easily as one dealt cards?
Fenris saw the mad gleam in the prince's eye, but again, refused to move away.
"You are so loyal, my sweet, sweet Fenris. Any mage would be honored to have you for his own."
He would die before leaving Anders to such a fate just to save his own miserable, worthless hide.
"If you do not move out of the way, I will kill you," Sebastian said blandly. "I had thought you would be with me on my path to the Maker's will, but I see you have been around the abomination too long. You've been corrupted. I pray that by ending your misery, I will have cleansed your soul and that I will one day see you at the side of the Maker."
Death would be welcome, Fenris thought blankly as he cleaned himself off, the warm water washing away cum and blood between his legs. Death would be welcome, when his Master tired of him.
Fenris closed his eyes, tightening his grip around the mage's legs. He wasn't sure if he should wish for a quick, clean death, or a botched one, just so he could offer Anders precious more seconds.
"Just a little while longer, little wolf…"
He shuddered, fighting down the urge to gag on his own memories. He heard a loud clamoring of noise, metal on metal, in the crowd, but his ears focused in on the twang of a bow letting lose.
A rush of wind, a loud thud….then nothing. Cautiously, Fenris opened his eyes, staring at the spectacle in front of him.
Ser Byron stood in front of him, his back to the elf, sword and shield held loosely at his sides. He shuddered, his large frame nearly falling back before he caught himself.
"Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven," Byron said, voice wavering. "I have here a letter from the Commander of the Grey, demanding that you hand over her Warden without fuss, or else you will…you will suffer the consequences."
Sebastian sniffed disdainfully. "We are in the middle of executing a criminal and his accomplice-"
"You would call your friend that?" Byron whispered. "Sire, did you not tell me fond stories of your friend, the tattooed elf Fenris? After all the time you spent together, after showing him the love of the Maker, after sharing meals and battles with him, you would just as easily throw him to the side?"
"When you outlive your usefulness, I will replace you. It is only natural, my little Fenris."
"He stands in the way of the Maker's will," Sebastian replied.
"No," Byron said, hissing as he took a step towards the prince. "It is not the Maker's will. It is yours. The Commander is on her way, here, now! She claims the mage for her Wardens. This elf saved him from death. You are acting out your will, not the Maker's!"
"Stand back," the prince warned, already readying another arrow. "Guards, remove him before he kills himself."
"Remove them, Fenris."
"Stand down," Byron said quietly as several men moved in. "Our hands are tied. The mage is a Warden, and this is Warden business." The men halted, looking back and forth between the prince and the Knight Captain.
"Kill him!"
"Kill them!"
"Stand down!"
"Kill them!"
"I am your prince!"
"I am your Lord and Master!"
"I am your Captain, men. Stand. Down."
"I am your GOD!"
"Wardens, assemble!"
That last statement was a simple one, but it caused several things to happen all at once. The Knight Captain collapsed, an arrow lodged deep in his side- the arrow that had been on course with Fenris, the elf realized with dim surprise.
The guards and Templars all scattered as armored men and women in silver and blue armor swarmed into the yard, battle cries ringing out among the shouts and wails of surprise and pain.
In the middle of all of this was a small elf woman wearing mage robes, armed only with a small dagger and her sharp gaze.
Fenris looked her over warily. She was beautiful, to be sure- her large green eyes took in everything with measured looks, her long black hair was swept back in a simple tail, and her form was curvaceous under the robes. Their gazes met across the distance, and the warrior froze.
"Bow before your betters, Fenris."
He could feel why she was followed, why she was feared. He could feel the power in just that simple gaze, and it took all of his willpower not to fall back on his trained slave habits and to turn his gaze aside. Instead, he held it stubbornly, refusing to look away and show weakness.
"Bow, Fenris. Bow-"
Fenris firmly pushed his memories away, focus returning sharply to the present. He had had enough of his past today.
The Warden smirked at him and then turned her attention to the prince.
"Prince," she greeted, her voice calming the loud courtyard immediately- her Wardens were well trained, the elf realized dimly, to have set up control of the courtyard so quickly. "I would have a word with you, if I may."
"In case you didn't notice, Commander," Sebastian hissed. "We're in the middle of an execution."
The Warden cocked her head slightly, an eyebrow raised up, unimpressed.
"He is a criminal, Commander," Sebastian said hurriedly. "He has committed crimes against humanity and the very nature of magic and must be punished for the sake of justice and the safety of every living man, woman, and child of Thedas."
"I don't care."
The prince stared. "I…I beg your pardon?"
"I," the Warden repeated slowly. "Don't. Care. He is one of my Wardens, and I would like him back. Now."
"He has been tried and found guilty-"
"What part of 'I don't care' don't you understand?" the Warden interrupted, sounding very irritated. "It is my right to claim back my Wardens, and it is my duty to keep them strong. I need that mage and I won't let some royal upstart little pup keep me from that."
Sebastian staggered back as if she had physically hit him. "You dare-"
She was now before him, and Fenris let out a soft whimper as the magic she conjured reignited the pain in his markings twofold, feeling the magic knifing and stabbing him even from the distance. He gritted his teeth, locking his knees to stay upright and keeping a death grip on Anders limp form.
"Tell me, boy, do you really want to fuck with me?" the Warden hissed, her hands encased in flames. "Me, both mage and savior? While you were running around lifting up tavern wenches skirts, I was running around gathering armies and fighting the Blight. While you knelt and prayed in your Chantry, I was killing an Arch Demon. While you ran around Kirkwall with the Champion and my friend over there, I was here, building the Wardens back up and dealing with darkspawn you don't have the imagination to comprehend."
Sebastian, Fenris noted, seemed to be shrinking in on himself, though his gaze remained as mutinous as ever.
"Then, on top of everything else I've had to deal with, I get a missive from my king saying that we have a foreign dignitary in the city giving orders to our Templars like he was the Divine herself."
She leaned forward, the flames on her hands vanishing as she reached out and jabbed a finger right at Sebastian's armored chest. "However, I would have been fine with all of that, but you fucked up. Your men almost killed my best assassin and now you're trying to kill my best healer. The only reason you're not a grease stain right now is that I am, by order of my king, supposed to give you one more chance. Here it is: Stand down now!"
Fenris was distracted from the rest of their standoff by a familiar voice behind him.
"Ho there, Fenris."
Fenris turned his head, eyes widening at the familiar shade of hair. "Aveline," he murmured.
The former guardswoman wore the standard of the Wardens, and looked much the same as the last time Fenris remembered seeing her- save for a long, jagged gash on her face and an air of resignation about her.
"I'm glad to see you alive, Fenris," she said, her tone softening in just the smallest way.
"As I am you," he replied, shifting under his burden. "Will you help me get him down?"
She looked up at Anders' face, her own twisting into a grimace. "Aye," she replied, her tone hard.
No one tried to stop them, and when Anders was finally back in Fenris' arms, the Commander had yelled the prince down, had disbursed his men, and had one of her mages tending Ser Byron, the only one besides Anders who appeared to have been hurt in the venture.
"Aveline," the Warden called. "Keep an eye on our friends there. I need to discuss things further with the prince in private."
Aveline stepped back into her role of leader as easily as one stepped into another set of clothing. It took no less than five minutes for everything and everyone to be taken to task.
Fenris refused to give up Anders to anyone else, so Aveline had him settle in next to Ser Byron, who was mostly healed now.
"I…thank you," Fenris said after a long moment of silence. "For saving my life."
"It…I…" Byron sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You are welcome."
"By saving my life, you saved his as well," Fenris added, indicating the still-unconscious Anders. "I owe you a deep debt."
"No, no you don't," Byron said quickly, much to Fenris' bemusement. "I…you don't have to repay the favor or anything. Not that the gesture wouldn't be appreciated, it would! I just can't accept it because I- oh, Maker's Breath, I'm making a mess of this and I-"
Fenris considered the large human beside him, taking in the flushed cheeks, the nervous eye contact, and the repeated verbal flailing.
Smirking, and unable to help himself with the mischief, Fenris leaned forward and gave the Knight Captain a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.
That shut him up, Fenris thought with amusement as he pulled back, unable to stop his face from breaking out into a grin at the look of shock on the human's face. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the confusion morphed into peaceful contentment.
"Oh," was all Ser Byron said of the gesture, but Fenris was pleased nonetheless.
By the time the sun set, Aveline had ushered everyone injured into the infirmary in the fort. She didn't argue when Fenris ignored the offer to take the mage from him, but she drew the line when he stubbornly refused to give him to another, even if it was for healing.
"Fenris," Aveline had said sternly. "I don't know what's changed between you and Anders, but you both need rest, and he still needs to see the healer. Let him go."
Reluctantly, Fenris had loosened his grip on the unconscious man enough that Aveline easily tugged him out of his arms, carrying him to an empty bed on the other side of the room.
The elf was tempted to listen to the former guard captain; the stress of the last few weeks and the afternoon's ordeal with his markings had left him drained to almost nothing. Yet he knew it would be pointless right now to try to rest; his markings still hurt, badly, and Anders-
Anders. He couldn't leave Anders alone after what had happened.
He waited until Aveline had exited the room before hopping off the bed and gingerly making his way over to the mage, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and resuming his guard duty.
He awoke with a startled jerk and a surprised yelp of pain- magic! He quickly turned the pained sound into a threatening growl at the strange mage standing over him, hands glowing with magic-
Instinct and training kicked in, and Fenris soon had the intruder dangling in his grasp, fingers digging tighter into the man's neck despite the intensifying pain in his markings. He would kill this one who dared to try to harm his healer, he would-
"Fenris! Put him down. Now!"
Aveline was standing there, sword and shield out and her eyes holding that glint that told the elf that she was quite serious.
"Fenris. He is trying to help Anders," she continued softly. "Let him down."
Glancing at the gasping man in his hand, Fenris took a moment to calm, to look the man over properly. He carried no staff, only a small satchel of presumably herbs and poultices, which was confirmed when the elf unceremoniously dropped him and heard the tell-tale clank of glass.
He watched the unknown mage shudder, cough, and then cautiously extended his hands out over Anders again, this time keeping a wary eye on the elf.
Fenris sat there silently, gritting his teeth as his markings pulsed in tune with the flow of the magic. Aveline sheathed her weapon, nodding at Fenris. "Once Avery is done here, no one else will bother you or him. I'll make sure of it."
The elf nodded curtly, not turning away from the mages even as he heard the former guardswoman march out.
"Well?" Fenris asked when the man finished.
The mage, Avery, shrugged. "He'll be fine. Healed a cracked rib. Other than that, his vocal cords are bruised, so he won't be able to talk for a while yet."
Fenris nodded. "How long?"
"Who knows?" Avery shrugged, gathering his things. "For him? Anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. It's not permanent, so don't worry."
"I won't," Fenris snapped.
Avery actually had the nerve to chuckle at that. Fenris continued to glare the mage right out the door. His markings flared in pain, bringing him back to the moment.
He sighed, slouching in on himself a little, biting his lip against the sensation. It wasn't as bad as the ritual had been, or the agony that had been him escaping his ropes not hours before, but it still was wearing him down-
Fenris jumped when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back. Even that light pressure hurt, but the elf couldn't resist leaning back against that familiar hand, head turning to gaze down at his healer.
Anders was awake, staring up at Fenris with a forlorn expression. He opened his mouth to speak- and only a soft rasp came out. Looking nonplused at the new development, Anders licked his lips, and started mouthing at the elf.
Where are you hurt?
Fenris shook his head, hand reaching out and tucking a strand of hair away from his healer's face. "I am uninjured. It is my markings- they all hurt."
Anders' face furrowed in confusion, sitting up in the bed to get a better, more level look at the elf.
"That…is how I saved you," Fenris said quietly, not looking away from the mage's wide brown eyes. "I…it was…unpleasant, but I was able to phase through my bindings and hold you up until your Commander came."
The mage's face smoothed out, and the smile that lit up the other man's face made something jump somewhere in the region of Fenris' stomach. Anders leaned forward, head tilted and his hands reaching up towards the warrior's face.
It was with regret that he shied away from Anders' kiss, offering an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, I can't, it..." he trailed off.
Anders looked heartbroken, but offered up his hands, the glowing blue of his magic surprisingly…not setting off his scars. The mage opened his arms wider, eyebrow raised but waiting patiently.
Warily, Fenris nodded, and leaned into his mage, shuddering and letting out a soft gasp as he was folded against the man's chest, the mage's arms wrapping around him securely and the magic seamlessly flowing into him, easing the fire and smoothing out his pains, unwinding along his body, loosening muscles that had tightened painfully.
"Thank you," he muttered, burying his face into the crook of the mage's neck. He let out another groan, this one of pure pleasure, as the mage kept pumping the magic into him. He glanced up at the healer, exasperated at the mischievous expression on the man's face.
"This is not the place or time," he hissed, though his cock thoroughly disagreed, hardening against Anders' thigh through Fenris' leathers. "Please, later. I'm tired and you're not ready for this either."
He felt the mage's chest rising and falling in silent laughter, but he felt the magic ebb, disappearing fully after a moment, to his relief and despair.
"I'll get you for that," he muttered grumpily. He tilted his head up to look at the mage, who of course had an answer.
I look forward to it, Fenris.
Both Fenris and Anders were relocated to a private room with a lovely view of the courtyard the next morning, much to the delight of the mage, who promptly pounced on the elf the minute the door closed.
"Anders," Fenris gasped, the mage having cornered him against the wall and currently licking the warrior's neck. "Anders-"
The mage silenced him with an enthusiastic kiss, his hands settling easily on Fenris' hips, pulling him closer.
"No," Fenris hissed, wrenching away, cheeks flushed. "Not here-"
Anders, a fully grown man, a hardened battle mage and a Warden, actually pouted at him.
Fenris couldn't help the smirk at the look on the other man's face. "Patience, carum," he said gently, tenderly stroking the mage's cheek. "We are being watched, and I would rather keep all of our shared delights private."
Anders snorted, quickly kissing the elf's fingers before backing away and then turning to plop onto the bed, spread eagled.
Fenris settled into the chair next to the bed, watching the mage shift and wriggle around the bed with some amusement. "Enjoying the lap of luxury, are we?"
Anders offered him a very content, almost cat-like smile.
The elf returned it, albeit on a much smaller scale. It fell when his eyes alighted to the bruising around the mage's neck.
"I am sorry."
Anders cocked his head at him, face serious now.
"I should have tried harder," Fenris continued, hands starting to wring in on themselves. "I…failed you, my healer."
Anders was violently shaking his head, but Fenris held up a hand calmly. "Anders," he said softly. "I won't fail you again. The day I fail you again is the day I die."
His hands were suddenly encased in other, lighter hands. He looked up at the mage, uncertain at the tender expression on the other man's face. Anders brought their joined hands up, kissing the elf's knuckles delicately.
"Am I forgiven?"
Anders glanced up, a few strands of hair brushing across his face.
You never had to ask, he mouthed.
Fenris bowed his head, staring at their entwined hands. A thought occurred to him as he looked at his scarred skin next to Anders.
Glancing up, he warily asked, "When Justice took control…and your skin glowed and cracked…did it hurt?"
If Anders was surprised by this question, he hid it well. He simply shrugged and mouthed, A little. More like a memory of pain from the past.
Fenris snorted. "I understand completely."
They stayed that way, Anders on the bed with Fenris in his chair, simply holding hands. It was…comforting, Fenris realized. It was comfortable to have his mage here, in front of him, touching him, knowing that he was not dead.
Anders tugged at his hand, looking between Fenris and the large bed and waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Fenris snorted. And apparently all too willing to enjoy the fact that he was still alive, he added as an after-thought.
His smile slipped and he tugged his hand away at the sound of the door unlatching. He had turned just in time to see the Commander of the Wardens enter the room, shutting and locking the door behind her.
She looked tired, he thought idly as she made herself right at home in the small room- she brought the second chair up to his healer's bedside, plopping it down next to Fenris like they had known each other for ages, and sat herself down.
"Anders," she greeted, ignoring Fenris (which suited him fine). "Anders, darling, you are a singularly gifted mage, particularly when it comes to finding trouble."
Anders shrugged.
The Warden sighed, hand resting against her temple now. "You know what that religious prick called you twenty minutes ago, and not for the first time? 'An international incident'."
Anders puffed his chest out proudly, only to start coughing and wheezing when his commander elbowed him sharply.
"This is not funny Anders! The Wardens just returned to this country not that long ago, we don't need political intrigue this early on in its' infancy. I have half a mind to hand you back over to the crazy prince just because it might save me a major headache."
"You touch him and you won't live to see the sunset."
Fenris refused to flinch under the cold gaze of the commander when she finally turned her gaze to him, eyes taking him in once more.
"Don't threaten me, boy," she growled. "Whether you like it or not, even without this ridiculous incident to sort through, Anders' life is in my hands, and will be until he dies. I am his commander, my word is law and his life is mine."
"You will not toss him away like garbage, mage," Fenris hissed, hands gripping the arms of his chair tightly to keep from physically assaulting the woman next to him. "I will not have you kill this man just because-"
"I need him," she interrupted, eyes unblinking. "I don't use people and 'throw them away', elf. Unlike others present, Anders is no slave."
"I am free," Fenris said tightly.
"But are your chains truly broken?" the Warden asked shrewdly. "I can see it when I look at you- you have to fight yourself, remind yourself that you do not need to cower in the presence of another mage, that you don't have to cower and scrape the ground when I deign to speak or even look at you. Just now, you had to stop yourself from standing when I entered, and you're fighting yourself to even look at me. You, pretty man, are not free."
Fenris had a biting reply ready when a hand landed on his knee. He jerked, his head snapping to look back at his healer.
Anders did not try to vocalize anything, but those brown eyes of his were begging, silently, for Fenris to be silent, to let it go.
Begrudgingly, Fenris obeyed, turning his body away from the commander and instead focusing on his healer.
"I thought as much," the commander commented, sounding unexplainably tired. "We're leaving in three days Anders. Make sure you're well enough to travel by then."
When she closed the door behind her, Fenris had to stifle the startled yelp when he was abruptly and unceremoniously dragged down into the bed.
"Mage," he grunted, trying to keep his knees from landing in a delicate spot on his healer. The other man's wriggling and insistent tugging were making things difficult however.
"Anders," Fenris growled warningly. "I said not now- oh."
The mage had pulled him down, forcing the elf to lie on top of him, and was…cuddling him.
No, not cuddling, Fenris thought hastily. This wasn't cuddling-
A low, pained whine from his healer drew Fenris from his distracted thoughts, his eyes catching Anders' and stilling.
For a normally verbose man who loved the sound of his own voice, Anders could manage to say quite a lot with just his facial expressions. In fact, if Fenris wasn't misreading them, the mage was telling him several things at once.
I'm sorry.
Please don't be angry.
Touch me.
The elf shivered, shifting his weight more onto the healer, pressing his form against the other man gently. The mage seemed to take this as a good sign, if his nervous smile was anything to go by.
"I…nearly lost you," Fenris murmured, his hand reaching out and stroking the mage's stubble-rough cheek. "Please, forgive me for failing you."
He wasn't sure what to expect from the mage- a nod, a shake of the head or just…nothing. Instead, when Anders turned his face and kissed the elf's fingers, the warrior felt some of the worry leave him. Murmuring quiet endearments in his mother tongue, Fenris planted slow, soft kisses on the mage's face, drawing another smile from his mage.
"I should go speak to Aveline," Fenris murmured, pulling away reluctantly. "I'll meet you back here after sunset."
Anders looked disappointed, but let Fenris go when he went to pull away, watching the elf walk out the door with a thoughtful expression on his face.
After a long day of scouting out the fort and a long dinner conversing with Aveline, Fenris was very tired. He strolled back towards his quarters, thoughts on what Aveline had revealed.
"I'm sorry Fenris, about Hawke," Aveline had offered softly when they had a moment together alone in the chow line. "I wish I could say I was there and that I should have done better…but I wasn't."
"How? Why?"
"Hawke," Aveline sighed, motioning at her scar. "We…headed into the Deep Roads after you were taken away. She…she attacked me and left me for dead. If it wasn't for Anders, I would have died of Darkspawn Corruption. He got me to the Wardens, and for that, I am grateful." She gave him a measuring look. "Why are you with him?"
"Because he is a healer," Fenris replied, cagey.
The ginger-haired woman actually smiled. "Fenris…"
"He saved my life," the elf admitted. "And…I may be a little…"
"Smitten? I think so. I saw the Puppy Eyes you were giving him earlier-"
"There were no Puppy Eyes!"
She had laughed, teased him for a moment more, and then had moved on with the subject.
The Commander was a harsh, but fair woman, according to Aveline. Granted, Aveline might have been biased, but Fenris had (and still did) trust her judgment of character. Apparently, the woman was in the middle of planning something big, but the only one who might know anything more about that would have been the Commander's lover, Zevran, who was apparently waiting for them back at the Warden's Keep.
Just what they needed, he thought bitterly as he slipped into his room. More politics and maneuvering.
He stilled, his thoughts fading away as he gazed at his healer, who was standing in front of the window…looking down at the very tree that had nearly seen him fully hung, looking sad and lost. He turned to look at the elf, something in his gaze silently pleading with the warrior.
Fenris did not speak. He came up behind the mage, cautiously pulling the larger man back against him and burying his face into the crook of the man's neck. Anders leaned back, a soft sigh of contentment coming from him.
The elf felt a bit guilty; he had been away from his mage, and now the man seemed…something. Whatever it was, Fenris wanted to erase it, to make his mage happy and playful again.
Nuzzling the fabric away from his neck then the mage's shoulder, the elf started to kiss and lick at the bared skin. The mage did not protest, instead tilting his head, offering the warrior more access, more skin.
Fenris continued, pausing when he neared skin that still held the tone of bruising. He shivered, a finger reverently skimming that point. Anders shivered in return, but did not move.
"I will not fail you in such a way again."
Anders merely nodded, turning his head and kissing the elf's finger tips, the trusting gesture drawing a hiss from the warrior.
"I…desire you, mage," Fenris breathed. "Will you…?" he trailed off, slightly amused by Anders' over-enthusiastic nodding.
"Hold still," he murmured, hands searching and undoing the clasps to the healer's robes. Slowly, with the delicacy one would use in unveiling something rare, precious, and fragile, Fenris slid the mage's clothing off, snagging the man's smalls on the way as well.
In the candle light, Anders stood, completely bared to the elf. His cock twitched with interest at Fenris' appreciative gaze.
"You are beautiful, my healer," Fenris said quietly, his fingers twisting and twining with the mage's golden locks. Anders leaned into the touch, a very quiet coo escaping his lips.
"You…I don't know what I would do if I lost you," Fenris admitted, his eyes skirting away from Anders questioning brown ones. "I will not fail you again."
A hand cupped his cheek, making him look back at Anders. The mage was smiling, gently, and Fenris lost himself as they kissed. It was a slow, languid affair, more exploration than claiming, and an equal venture for both; both men gave as much as they took. Fenris broke the kiss with a soft moan, the mage's dexterous fingers lightly stroking his ear.
"Bed," he growled, pulling away before the man's stroking fingers can make a complete gibbering fool out of Fenris.
Anders cocks his head for a moment, but then nods, seeming to understand that this was one of those times that Fenris was completely in charge, and would guide them. He plopped onto the bed, rolling over onto his back and gazing up at Fenris with curiosity and more than a fair share of want.
Fenris joined him in bed, straddling the mage's hips and gently smacking the healer's hands away from his hips. Getting the message, Anders held his arms above his head, clasping them together, closed his eyes and tilted his head to bare his neck, fully relaxing beneath the warrior.
Fenris stared down at Anders, eyes immediately zooming in on the bruising around his neck. Fenris swallowed hard, his hands fluttering over the other man's chest indecisively before he gave up, sighed, and lightly tapped the mage on the chest. "Please…I can't stand to see you with your eyes shut like that now. You may…you may watch."
He felt amused when the mage's eyes flew open, looking eager and excited. He watched the elf avidly as Fenris cracked his knuckles, leaned down, and began to (gently) rub the healer's abs and chest.
Fenris knew that his hands are not made for healing, for comforting. He has the experience needed for this, but had never willingly given it to another person before. He hoped that, perhaps by doing this, the mage would feel…wanted. Needed. Cared for.
Because Fenris refused to believe that he would fail him again.
Anders' eyes fluttered, his body shifting beneath the elf as Fenris continued his ministrations, going over every muscle and tendon with his own brand of touch. He drifted lower, starting to massage the mage's thighs, the healer's cock swelling excitedly.
He glanced up at Anders, smiling softly at the rapt, eager look on the other man's face. Fenris shifted down the mage's legs, hands moving to massage the inside of Anders' knees, the mage unconsciously spreading his legs wider to give the elf more access.
Cautiously, Fenris leaned down and licked the head of the mage's cock.
Anders, mute, can still make sounds, he learns immediately. His first touch of the mage's cock makes Anders let out a breath of air, his eyes now riveted and focused fully on Fenris, looking surprised.
"You…do not taste how I expected you to," Fenris said lightly, as if he was talking about the weather. Anders blinked at him before letting his head fall back against the pillow, his chest rising and falling rapidly in silent laughter.
Fenris smirked, his hands drifting back to the mage's knees and pushing them apart, leaving him room to work with. Without warning, he got back to work, leaning down and licking Anders' cock, eagerly this time. He was unused to this aspect of sex, had approached the idea with dread, but now that he was doing it…
Well, it didn't matter what he thought of it, he mused as he sucked the tip into his mouth while keeping eye contact with the mage. The looks on his healer's face was enough incentive for Fenris to continue. He pulled more of the mage's cock into his mouth, his tongue laving the underside of the shaft slowly, teasingly.
He noted idly that Anders was fisting the bed sheets hard, his knuckles already turning white. Fenris chuckled around his mouthful, his hand reaching down, gently stroking and massaging Anders' balls.
That earned him a sharp thrust, the mage's cock nearly choking him. Fenris pulled back quickly, glaring at the sheepish Anders.
"I'm going to touch more of you," Fenris rasped. "You will control yourself, or I will stop completely. Understand?"
Anders fervent nodding was enough to ease Fenris' irritation. Wordlessly, Fenris went back to work, sucking down the tip of Anders' cock and alternating between sucking and licking while he stroked the mage's testicles.
Fenris worked on the mage's cock for several quiet moments, the only sounds in their room being the sounds of his suckling and Anders' harsh panting that was quickening as he drew closer to release.
When he felt Anders' balls tighten, Fenris let the mage's cock slip from his mouth. He spit in his free hand, gripped the base of Anders, and started stroking quickly, eyes riveted to the mage's face.
When Anders came, his hips lifting off the bed as he let out a silent wail, Fenris continued his stroking, milking the mage as long as possible. Only when he has softened and his hands weakly push at him does Fenris let the mage go. He looks down at the man, feeling incredibly proud at the man's mussed hair, his cum streaked stomach and his flushed face and shining eyes.
"You are beautiful like this," the elf murmured gently, crawling over the mage and stealing a kiss from him. The mage was quick to deepen the kiss, sending a surge of want down the elf's spine, but Fenris pulled back.
Or tried to. Anders had a firm grip on him and a few confused and tumbled seconds later, Fenris was beneath Anders who looked eager to return the favor.
Fenris tensed, starting to breath harder, but not in arousal. "Please," he begged, eyes beseeching. "Let me up. I can't- not like this, I-"
Anders didn't wait for an explanation; he simply rolled off of the elf just as easily as he had flipped them, and he curled up next to the warrior, eyes apologetic and wary.
Fenris let out a relieved breath. "I am sorry," he offered. "I can't…that position is too…" he trailed off when Anders tapped a finger to his lips, shaking his head before mouthing a reply.
You don't have to tell me.
Fenris offered him a grateful look and wrapped an arm around his healer, his hand again swatting at Anders' wandering one.
"I don't want you to return the favor," he explained wearily. "I just…wanted to show my appreciation."
He felt the mage curling his body around his, his face burying into the back of Fenris' shirt, nodding.
"You will have to explain to me what you said at the gallows."
The mage stilled further before he slowly wrapped an arm around the elf, moving and shifting until his hand was sprawled against Fenris' chest- over his heart.
"Oh…"
When it was later and Anders had finally fallen asleep, Fenris untangled himself from the mage's embrace, gathered his clothing, and silently left.
When Anders awoke to an empty bed the next morning, he too got dressed, and stormed out on a mission.
AN: And there you go. Anders didn't die, Ser Byron was rewarded for his efforts, Aveline gets a cameo, we meet the Warden, and there's a bit of smut with a dash of angst. Hope you enjoyed it! As for when the next update will be...next week is my break, but after looking at all of my coursework, I'm not sure how much of a break it'll be. So probably another week and a half or the usual two weeks till the next update.
Toodles, duckies!