Well, this is just bloody brilliant.

Despite having been saved by Fenris from almost certain death, being recruited back into the Wardens AND enjoying the elf's unexpected affection that one night, Anders was Not Happy.

For one thing, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of that very elf since that night, and that was three days ago. If he hadn't run into Aveline several times (really, it was almost like she was guarding him!) who assured him that she had seen Fenris walking around and that he was fine, Anders might very well have torn the damn fort apart to look for his favorite, brooding person. As it was, he had to content himself that Fenris was a grown man and knew how to take care of himself, and that Anders didn't need to go running after him like a love sick girl or an overgrown, over-affectionate puppy. And as such, Anders had not seen Fenris since that night they had shared together.

For another, they were making ready to leave, which meant that unless Fenris decided to show up NOW, he might get left behind, which would put Anders out even more. He liked Fenris, thank you very much, and it didn't do his mood any favors at the thought of leaving his friend behind.

And for another…he was wearing Grey Warden Armor. Stunning on him with his color and figure, he thought dryly, but so uncomfortably heavy and constricting; this marching business would wear him out soon. He could still do his magic, of course, but due to the weight and metal, he had to concentrate harder and not use any electricity spells, unless he wanted to fry himself along with whoever might decide that attacking a Grey Warden army would be a good idea.

As to someone attacking them…

"Just in case someone wants to take a shot at you," the Commander had said when she had pressed the armor forcefully into his hands that morning. He had glared at it before giving his Commander a look. Knowing her, she meant exactly what she said- especially if that shot might be taken by a certain angry prince who had a habit of making anyone he saw as an enemy into a pincushion. "And stick with Aveline. If anyone tries to take you out, she'll protect you."

And now he was becoming paranoid about would-be assassins (or angry Starkhaven princes) trying to target and kill him.

On top of everything, he had set out to not only find Fenris after their night together, but also to look for his things. The Templars had taken his bag of things and had yet to give them back. He wasn't too worried about most of the things in the bag; potions, scrolls, things of that nature could easily be replaced.

He wanted to find his mother's pillow. He just…he had to find it. It had been a source of comfort for him in all his time in the Circle, on the run, in the Wardens and in Kirkwall. And now with Fenris…he wasn't sure what the elf would make of the pillow, but Anders didn't really have anything else to offer the warrior that actually meant something to him. He himself wore the shark tooth Fenris had given him with pride, having confiscated it back from one of the lower ranked Templars. He wanted to return the elf's gesture; the idea of properly courting the elf was…well, given Anders' past quick tumbles and dalliances, it was amusing and intriguing in its own way.

However, once he found his bag, his day just got worse. The potions and scrolls were fine, but his mother's pillow…

He grasped some of the scraps, pulling it from his bag and staring forlornly down at them. It looked like someone had taken a knife to it, gutting the pillow and scraping the fragile lining off. He remembered nights that he had curled up to it, smelled it's vaguely floral scent and had been comforted by it. It had been one of the few constants in his life.

Determined to not let this set him back, Anders stuffed it back into his bag and hurried away to look for a needle and thread.

And now he was setting out with the Wardens, no sign of Fenris and worrying about whether or not someone would take a parting shot at him.

Bloody brilliant.

"You know," Aveline muttered to him as they marched out the gates. "I'm not used to you being this quiet. Rather nice. I can actually hear myself think."

He glared at her with his feet shuffling to keep up with the rhythm of the fast pace the Commander had set. Love you too, Aveline.

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. If it makes you feel better, he's behind us, three rows and two mages back to your right."

Anders glanced back, finding a shock of white among the blue and silver, just where Aveline had said. The elf looked uncomfortable and out of place- probably due to his proximity to unknown mages, Anders thought.

Fenris caught his gaze, green eyes wary as he nodded in greeting before turning his attention back to the backside of the man in front of him- eyes forward, unfocused like every other man there.

Anders sighed. Typical; with Fenris, he seemed to take two steps forward only to take one step back. He just wished that the elf would tell him why the warrior had been avoiding him. Anders couldn't fix something if he didn't know what was wrong.

Maybe I was too…rough? No, not really. He had almost choked Fenris, but the elf had pulled back, Anders had been warned and had not done it again.

Too…forward? Perhaps that was it, Anders mused. He had been overly physical that day and maybe that had overwhelmed the warrior.

But that doesn't make any sense, if he didn't like it, he would have stopped…right?

Then again, with Fenris, sometimes it was hard to tell. He had a mean Wicked Grace face; Anders, even after living with the elf for months, still had a hard time reading the other man's face. Then again, Anders was horrible at cards.

Resigning himself to the fact that he'd just have to wait and talk to the elf when he got the chance, Anders focused moodily on the ground, trying to keep in step with everyone else.

He got his chance later when they stopped to rest for the night. After setting up his tent and exchanging his heavy armor for a simple pair of trousers and a shirt, Anders took a quick walk around the campsite, smiling at a few familiar faces and nodding quick greetings when he was called.

Unsurprisingly, he found the elf on the outskirts of the camp, tent neatly set up in front of a tree; probably to help protect his back, Anders reasoned. There was a small fire outside the tent, a kettle hanging over the flame. His ears picked up the sound of a whetstone sliding down the length of a blade- Fenris was in, then.

Anders stamped his foot loudly on the ground outside the tent to alert the elf. The scraping sound ceased and Fenris' white head popped out, eyes blinking up at the mage in surprise. He glanced around quickly before motioning with a tilt of his head for Anders to crawl inside.

When Anders ducked inside, he glanced around curiously. The tent was barely large enough for the two of them, but Fenris seemed to understand this; he slid his sword off to the side, still within reach, but out of the way of the bedroll and the small bag of supplies.

"Anders," Fenris greeted quietly.

Anders cleared his throat and rasped out. "Fenris."

The warrior cocked his head, frowning at the quality of the mage's voice. "It hurts, I take it?"

Anders shrugged. "Not too badly."

"Would you like some tea? It might help your throat feel better," the elf offered, already crawling towards the tent flap. Anders winced when he noticed the stiff way the elf was moving: his markings must still be hurting him. First things first though.

Anders stopped him with a tap on the shoulder, shaking his head. "I want to talk," he said, his voice scratchy.

"Here," Fenris said, digging into his bag and pulling out a small book and an ink well. "Use this and save your voice."

Anders took the tools gratefully and quickly scribbled out: Are you all right?

Fenris glanced at the scrawl before nodding. "Yes."

The mage frowned; he had been expecting more of an answer than that. He quickly scribbled more.

Have I done something to upset you?

"No."

Anders glared at the elf, quickly writing more.

Honestly, then, why have you been avoiding me for the past few days?

"I haven't-" Fenris started, but stopped when Anders kept right on writing.

We've been sleeping in the same quarters for a while now no matter where we are, we celebrated my escaping the hangman's noose (which was wonderful by the way, you really surprised me there) and then you up and leave without a word? What am I supposed to think, Fenris? Was I that bad? Did I hurt you? Or did that memory I brought up really bother you that much? TALK TO ME, DAMN IT!

He waited, watching Fenris read what he had written. The elf's brow furrowed as he seemed to consider the request.

"I was intent on making sure Sebastian did not try to come after you. I also wanted to see if I could…find out more about your Commander."

Oh. Well, that explained a few things, Anders thought. Never let it be said that when Fenris became invested in something, he didn't give 110%.

Fenris continued, drawing the mage's attention back to him. "As to my…reaction the other night, I did not lie when I told Hawke and everyone else that Danarius never touched me," the elf offered after a moment, eyes staying firmly on the paper.

When he did not say more, Anders frowned and started to mull over that simple statement and what he knew about Fenris.

The elf, he knew, was not a big fan of lying or hiding out when he was angry enough. As Varric once said, Fenris wore armor that practically screamed 'I hate you all! I used to be a slave!'

Then again…wait, Anders thought, glancing sharply at the elf. 'Danarius never touched me'.

Slowly, Anders wrote out his query.

What about Hadrianna? What about other magisters?

When Fenris ducked his head, looking towards the corner of the tent, Anders had his answer.

'She would hound my sleep, deny my meals…'

'You know NOTHING of being a slave, mage!'

'You would not believe me if I told you what atrocities magisters have done in the name of survival…or entertainment.'

Anders continued scribbling, as if nothing had happened.

I suppose that's why you don't like being on your back with someone above you? I can understand that. You won't see me eyeing blindfolds or ropes, let me assure you.

"You do not…like certain things?" Fenris asked, his voice carefully devoid of any emotion. "Why do you close your eyes when I ask you to then?"

Anders shrugged.

I've tried them several times and due to my own personal experiences, I can't do anything that takes away my sight or completely immobilizes me. Having to close my eyes during our encounters doesn't bother me: if something were to happen, I could just open my eyes and besides that, I trust you. If I'm blindfolded and bound, I can't do anything. Everyone has something they love to do during sex, Fenris, and things they never want to touch in a million years. Experience and preferences play a large role in it.

"I…apologize," Fenris said, eyes looking beseechingly at the mage, ears lowered slightly. "I…it's not you, I just…I can't be pinned down. At all."

Anders nodded and then wrote a thought on the paper.

What about holding you?

Fenris looked confused, so Anders wrote out: Can I show you?

Slowly, the warrior nodded, eyes watching every movement the mage made as Anders set aside the paper and ink, crawled onto Fenris' bedroll, and flopped onto his back. He motioned for Fenris to come to him, which the elf did, eyes drinking in the mage's prostrate form.

Anders offered the elf a smile and motioned him closer. He chuckled as Fenris' face flushed a little when their bodies touched; Anders slowly lifted and wrapped his legs around Fenris' waist, pulling him even closer until the elf's hips were pressed flush against the mage's rump.

"Hold my hips," he said softly, voice dry and brittle. "No, more like you're cradling them…how's that?"

The position was one of Anders' favorites; the partner on top could hold on and had the freedom of movement needed to give hard thrusts, but the receiving partner had everything from their waist up free from confinement; touching, kissing, stroking were all available. Or if he really needed to, all Anders had to do to get free was either punch Fenris in the face, or use his hips and roll the elf under him.

It also didn't hurt that he gave him a good view of his partner's face and Fenris was currently looking befuddled and intrigued by their current positioning.

Fenris was blinking down at him, hands gripping Anders' hips tightly. "Is…is this comfortable for you?"

"Mmhmm," Anders nodded, his hands slowly reaching out and wrapping around the elf's hands. When Fenris didn't pull away, Anders gently called up his magic, sending soft pulses of healing magic through the elf's frame.

Fenris let out a soft sigh, his frame relaxing marginally as the magic did its work. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers entwining with Anders'.

Anders beamed, nodded and rolled his hips. Fenris let out a hiss, but didn't back away. Instead, his handhold on the mage tightened and he gave a thrust of his own, teeth bared at the mage playfully and eyes gleaming.

Oh…maybe now, Fenris and I could…?

Anders definitely wouldn't say no to that, if the elf wanted to go that route. Even if they were in a Grey Warden camp, the mage was certain that they wouldn't be the only ones doing it. And judging from Fenris' continued, slow, languid thrusting, he seemed to be of the same mind, his green eyes looking down at Anders with an eager expression.

Anders would have been all too thrilled to continue in this vein, save for one small problem.

"Anders, if you don't come out of that tent in under three seconds, I'll light it on fire and force you to march the rest of the way back to Amaranthine in nothing but your small clothes."

Nothing like a cock block coming in the form of your Commander, Anders reflected sourly ten minutes later as he settled into his own empty tent.

Besides finding out that Fenris was not upset at him, things for Anders did not really improve. Aveline still followed him like a guard Mabari, the Commander made sure to personally check on him several times a day as they marched, and to top it all off, he was starting to get blisters on his feet and the heavy armor was starting to chafe his shoulders.

However, he did perk up after the third night on the road.

He had settled into his tent for the night, having already grabbed a bowl of dinner. He didn't care to stay outside and socialize with the others- Aveline would follow him, and at least when he was in his tent, he could ignore her. The Commander was also being annoying; he had tried to visit Fenris again last night, but the Commander had blocked the way.

And so he resigned himself to a lonely march back to Amaranthine. Hopefully when they arrived, he could share a bed, hell, even a bunk in a shared room would be preferable than staying separate from the elf.

Anders started when his tent flap opened, then grinned when he saw a familiar pointy-eared man. Fenris held a finger up to his lips, quickly entering and closing the flap behind him. He doused the candle in the mage's tent, issuing a soft moan when Anders pounced on him, licking and nibbling at an ear.

"Mage," Fenris sighed, relaxing back and resting his back against Anders' chest. The healer pulled Fenris more fully into his lap, still peppering the elf's ear and neck with kisses.

"I missed you," Anders muttered, wincing at the sound of his voice. It still was rough, guttural from his half hanging.

"And I you," Fenris replied quietly, hand idly stroking the mage's knee. Anders reached down, entwining their hands together. A pleased hum echoed softly from the elf as Anders held him and continued his tender ministrations.

"I…thought we could talk, Anders."

"Of course," the mage said, giving Fenris one last lick before resting his face in the crook of the elf's neck. "What about?"

Fenris was silent for a moment, the only sound being their breathing and the sounds of camp outside. Anders nuzzled the elf's neck, simply enjoying what contact was there to be had.

"What was the first thing you did when you realized you were free?"

Anders snorted. "Would you count my first out of seven escape attempts or when I made it to Kirkwall?"

"Both," Fenris requested.

"Hmm…first time I escaped I danced naked under the moonlight."

He pulled back as Fenris turned to look at him, face surprised. "You're…having me on."

"Nope. That's why I didn't make it very far that first time," Anders grinned. "And when I made it to Kirkwall, I set up my clinic and had a slice of day old apple pie. What about you?"

Fenris settled back against him, humming thoughtfully. "I slept in late."

Anders blinked. "Truly?"

Fenris nodded. "Truly. I had been on the run from Danarius for three days without rest. I collapsed and crawled inside a log. I did not wake up until noon the next day."

"No sleeping in for slaves in Teventer, eh?"

"None whatsoever," Fenris agreed. "Unless you were already dead. No, slaves are usually up and about at dawn, readying their master's household. I was no exception."

"Well, I bet you enjoyed it, sleeping in."

Fenris snorted. "No, I did not. I did not sleep in a comfortable bed, and when I awoke, I panicked; I thought something would happen since I did not rise at the proper time. It seems foolish now, but at the time…" he shrugged. "I was ready for something horrible to happen. And it never did. And, after a time, I found that I actually liked sleeping in until eight, even nine bells in the morning."

"That's not sleeping in!" Anders protested. "Sleeping in is noon, no earlier!"

The elf chuckled, turning his head to gaze fondly at the mage. "It seems that we have yet another thing we disagree on."

Anders couldn't have held back the smirk even if he had wanted to. "Oh, really? Well, whatever shall we do about it?"

"I'll tell you what you'll do about it," Aveline's voice came from next door, sounding put out. "You'll shut up and go to sleep or I'll carry Fenris back to his tent and leave him there tied up."

"Oh, kinky," Anders droned dryly.

"Don't think I won't do it!"

Well, it wasn't all bad, Anders mused as he curled up around the elf. At least he had Fenris back.

They made it back to the Keep without incident, much to Anders surprise and gratitude. The Commander informed him that he and his friend would be staying in the main barracks for the time being and that she would call on him in another day or so.

Then she had promptly dragged him to the infirmary, ignoring Fenris as the elf followed doggedly behind the two mages, determined to not lose sight of Anders nor to be intimidated by his surroundings.

Really, Anders thought, Fenris was a lot braver than most. Most would be in awe or cowering at being surrounded by so many strange people, let alone Wardens.

Fenris, on the other hand, had his patented glare at the ready and followed behind only a few steps. It was comforting, if only only a little.

When the Commander had shoved him into the infirmary, Fenris had followed inside as well. Anders took one look around at the few patients that were there, waiting for him, and got to work.

He only had four Wardens to work on, but due to one's fever and another's gangrened leg, it took much longer than Anders would have liked before he was finished.

He took a break, wiping the sweat away from his brow as he looked around, feeling slightly proud at what he had accomplished. He always felt good when he was able to help someone, even if it left him exhausted.

"Come," Fenris murmured behind him. He had taken up post at the entryway, watching Anders work without a sound.

Unable to think of a reason to resist, Anders followed the warrior out, blowing out the candle on the way out to let his patients get some rest.

Anders wasn't sure where Fenris was taking him, but he followed along nonetheless; hopefully the elf was leading them someplace they could speak in private. The barracks were a familiar (all too familiar) place for Anders, but they did leave something to be desired in the way of privacy.

He was surprised when the elf led him to the library. It wasn't the most public of places, but it did have Wardens in there most of the time, either researching or just perusing the leather tomes for pleasure.

Fenris led him to a deserted corner, gingerly pulling Anders flush with him once they were out of sight. The mage sighed at the contact, melting against the elf, his hands bracing on the bookshelf behind the warrior.

"I want you," Fenris purred, leaning in and licking at Anders' neck. "Will you let me have you?"

"Anywhere, anytime, anyway," Anders groaned, exhaustion forgotten, leaning more fully against the elf and tilting his head to allow more access.

"Truly?" Fenris breathed, pulling away and looking sharply at the mage's face. Anders pulled back a little, slightly confused.

"Yes," he said slowly, shifting his weight. "Whatever you want, I'll get behind whole heartedly."

"What if I wanted to…be inside you?"

Anders shuddered, eyes falling shut as his mind easily pictured that scenario: Fenris, in all his growling and slinky glory, stalking Anders, catching and claiming Anders in some darkened corner, ravishing his mouth before ripping his clothes off, biting and clawing as he went, and then-

"Mage," Fenris called softly. "Mage?"

"Sorry Fenris" Anders laughed, eyes opening and taking in the elf's concerned face. "I let my imagination run away from me."

"You…would have no problem with me…?"

"No, why?"

The elf shifted, ducking his head so his bangs hid his eyes. When he spoke again, it was in a stilted, almost bashful way. "I am used to seeing, hearing, about…elves with humans…and I…wasn't sure what you were expecting if…when…we finally-"

"Fenris," Anders said firmly, his voice sounding even solemn with the guttural rasp from his throat. "I don't care who buggers who, so long as you and I are both involved. I have no real preference."

Fenris glanced back up, eyes wary and speculating. "So…if I said I would like to be on top…"

"I'd get behind that idea," Anders grinned. "Or below. Or in front. Or-"

Fenris silenced him with a deep, probing kiss. Anders returned it whole heartedly, his fingers dancing along the elf's back, stroking him. Fenris let out a low sigh as they kissed, his own hands flitting about restlessly before finally settling on the small of the mage's back, holding him tightly. Anders felt a zing go down his spine as their kiss deepened, his hips automatically pressing and grinding against Fenris'. He swallowed the elf's moans, breathing him in, pulling more from Fenris and giving more in return.

"Anders," Fenris gasped, pulling away only to start laving kisses on Anders' throat. Anders let out a soft purr at the feel of the elf, tilting his neck to offer more skin.

Anders' breath left him in a rush as the room whirled and Fenris pinned him against the bookshelf, the power of the shove being enough that the whole case shuddered warningly.

Anders stared at the elf, taking in the determined look, the heaving chest, the flushed lips and the look of utter want on the warrior's face. Compared to the Fenris who had bleakly offered his body to him months previous, this Fenris was absolutely stunning. And unlike previously, Anders had no qualms or worries about taking the elf up on his offer this time.

"Oh, Maker," the mage breathed.

"No," Fenris smirked, a hand reaching up and gently caressing the mage's cheek. "Fenris."

"Ehem."

Anders winced, leaning down to look around behind Fenris. "Ah, Commander."

She merely cocked an eyebrow at him, taking in his current position and easily withstanding Fenris' glare.

He gulped. "Ah, this…this is exactly what it looks like!"

"I can see that," the Commander responded dryly. "Unfortunately, I need to see you in my office. Now."

"Stay away," she added when Fenris started to follow. "I'll send Anders back to the barracks when I'm finished with him."

And with that, she whisked Anders away, leaving the warrior alone by the book cases.

AN: So here's another update! Enjoy, because I'm not sure when the next update will be. School is piling up, I'm probably going to start looking for a job soon and there's family drama to deal with. Don't worry though; I'm already working on the next bit, keep your chins up.

Toodles, duckies!