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…is like finding the black hole in your soul that you finally realize is sucking everything away that you considered good about your writing.
I opened Na Via Lerno Victoria to see if my muse would bite, and JFC I am trying so hard not to re-edit and fix all the glaring mistakes and repetitive phrasing in it before I try to wrap it up.
Anders hated the fact that Fenris followed him, even after what he did in Kirkwall. Not because he hated the elf, on the contrary he loved him with an intensity that bordered on obsession.
The fact that the damned elf had followed him all the way to Vigil’s Keep and even joined the Wardens made him angry because Fenris didn’t deserve the death sentence that was joining the wardens. Despite being allowed back in their ranks, even allowed out on limited patrols he wasn’t happy.
Fenris on the other hand seemed to be thrilled with his new life. He had a purpose finally, well besides shadowing his mage. They’d fought viciously after he came to after his Joining. He’d had no clue how loud the mage could scream when he was furious but he’d learned.
They didn’t speak for almost a month before Anders finally caved and came to him with an apology in hand. It was another six months before they resumed the relationship they’d hidden back in Kirkwall. It was two years when they found themselves in their current predicament.
Even with Danarius dead, slavers still occasionally attempted to track down his lyrium ghost and reclaim what the magister lost. This time they’d waited until he was on patrol near the Keep, hoping to catch him unaware. What they hadn’t counted on what was the mage at his side.
They found themselves surrounded, and Fenris downed by a spell by one of the mages among the slavers. Something had him stunned, unable to rise from his knees.
“Give us the slave and you can go free, he’s not worth the fight warden.” a voice came over the field to Anders, which got a snarled reply from the mage.
“He’s no slave and I will fight all of you for him. This is your last chance to leave before you get hurt.” He smiled at them, that wicked grin that promised pain. They didn’t realize he harbored a spirit that would unleash the fury of the Fade.
“There’s only one of you warden, he can’t help you. So I doubt we’ll be the one’s hurt here.” the same one that spoke before, his stance ready for battle.
The smirk dropped off his face as the mage before them changed, Fade light marking trails along fair skin, dark blue energy swirling around mage and elf alike, the air reeking of ozone as the mage he’d thought helpless proved himself to be anything but.
“Now, I believe you were about to leave.” the voice coming from the mage was unnatural, the man’s tenor underscored by a rolling bass that doubled their words and made the men surrounding them back away, unsure of their prey.
“You’re still here, I warned you to leave or else you’d get hurt. You should have listened.” was all the warning the slavers got before Vengeance started tearing into them, arcane power unleashed on them with a fury the mage usually held in check.
Chain lightening dispensed a group that had clustered together, walking bomb took out the mage that tried to quit the field while he was distracted. Tempest cleared away all but the one who’d challenged him for Fenris. He would endure the demon’s wrath, feel his body crushed slowly and painfully, each bone cracking from the pressure of Crushing Prison, blood pouring from him until he was no more than a human shaped stain upon the ground.
After the last slaver fell, Vengeance receded, the mage turned to find his lover sitting there quietly, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady as he tried to compose himself.
He remained quiet until he was helped up, his legs refusing to cooperate. Fenris mumbled his thanks as he was carried back to the Keep, unsure how he felt about the demon’s intervention but glad for it nonetheless.
“No need to thank me, I’ll protect you unto my dying day. Rest now, I’ve got you.”
The Antivan elf was too smooth, too shallow for Fenris’ liking. The way he’d talked Isabela into sharing his tent after Hawke’s refusal didn’t sit right with him. There had to be some trick to it, to his ever present smile that never reached his eyes.
It wasn’t until they were on the way back from the Coast that he had a chance to inquire of the former Crow’s methods. Getting the elf to talk wasn’t the hard part, it proved more difficult to get him to cease his prattle once he was started.
“I do no know what trickery you employed to charm everyone here but I will figure you out assassin.” Fenris muttered as they walked, his expression blank, neutral as not to alert the others to his true mood.
“I assure you friend, there was no trickery involved in getting the lovely Isabela into my furs, she is a woman grown is she not? She joined me of her own free will. I need not trick women into my bed, nor men for that matter.” the former Crow laughed, amused at the attempt to figure him out as they walked.
“I know she is grown, I merely did not think she would readily go to another’s bed when involved with Hawke. They must have an understanding between them, my apologies for the assumption.” the Tevinter elf snapped out before attempting to catch up with Sebastian and leave the other elf behind.
He stopped when a calloused hand grasped his arm, the touch warm against the exposed skin of his upper arm. “What is it?” he muttered, still and allowing the touch despite his usual aversion to contact.
“Merely that I wish to apologize to you. I did not mean to make light of your concern for our friend. She’s lucky to have such companions, I’m lucky she remembered me fondly enough to have one last romp. I’d say Hawke is the luckiest of us all friend.”
Zevran gave him a smile, one that did reach his eyes that time before speaking, this time in a low purr, a promise of fun behind his words.
“I do have plenty of tricks up my sleeve friend, some that I haven’t had a chance to use in a while. It’s been some time since I’ve had a chance at such a handsome fellow as you. But if you’ll allow it, I’ll teach you those tricks and much, much more.”
Fenris smiled as he turned away and kept walking, his pace slow enough for the other elf to catch up. He dipped his head as they walked and agreed to learn from the assassin, even offering up his own tricks in return.
“What did you take from him?”
Six words that were rife with meaning, containing questions and answers in their syllables. Anders knew it made sense. He logically grasped that with magic, especially the kind of high magic that he had apparently done, there was going to be a price, a give and take to balance the scales of what he had woven using spells so intricate that he still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. In the years since he had come to Kirkwall, he had apparently learned how to create spells that were now out of his depth.
Oooh Fenris has a secret! /me camps out and waits.
Anders couldn’t hold back the laughter at his predicament. When Fenris asked what Anders wanted, he was fairly certain he hadn’t requested a near death experience. Yet here he sat on the stump of a recently fallen tree with a self-satisfied elf seated precariously on the edge of his knees. All it had taken to get Fenris to open up was being his usual dashing mage self and openly risking death by the warrior’s hand. Anders’ earnest willingness… no, his eagerness, even… to be terrified probably also helped. And now here they were. Fenris promised more. For once, Anders didn’t know whether to accept the offer.
Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he wanted it. But which did he want more, Fenris or his life?
I love what you are doing with them in this fic. <3
Fedora!Verse Anders and Fenris. ALL THE QUESTIONS? :D Too much? Uh… 4, 6, 9, and 14 then
I’ll answer all the things for you my dear storm! One post for Anders and another for Fenris. <3
Fedora!Verse Fenris below:
A/N: Angst warning? Do I even need that with my fics or is it a given at this point?
Knowing that Anders was watching the full extent of Danarius’ control over Fenris made it all the more horrifying for the elf. Fenris fought the magic that ignited his brands and pulled on muscle, tendon, and bone. Danarius had issued a command and the magic obeyed—Fenris obeyed as he always had.
Two times in his life he had been able to break free from Danarius, but not because he had been able to throw off the shackles the magic and lyrium wove around him, breaking free of his leash. He had relied on cunning instead, seizing his chance before his master could call him back.
I finally poked and prodded this to where I wanted it to end. Epilogue to come some day.
Avenging Angel 4/4