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It was not uncommon to be covered in blood. Fenris had grown used to it during his days in Kirkwall, gallivanting around with Hawke. When one was a companion to the Champion of Kirkwall, one tended to find trouble around every corner.
So why did this blood bother him so much, have him on his knees in anguish?
“Fenris! You’re hurt!” Said elf growled under his breath, clutching the gash on his arm to keep it from spewing more blood.
“I am fine.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” the mage had already caught him by his other arm and pulled him to sit on the ground. Fenris didn’t bother to protest. It was either be healed or be nagged the rest of the way back to Kirkwall.
The blue magic flowed through his wound, crawling soothingly throughout the white veins of lyrium scrawled across his skin. Fenris had to suppress a shiver, trying to concentrate instead on the ground. The hum of the magic was so mind-numbing, however, that he found himself easing into the mage’s touch.
It only took a few minutes for the blonde to be finished, clapping his hands together as if to wipe off dust when he had.
“There. Was that so bad?” The touch of magic still tingled through his lyrium, entrancing him. The mage that had caused it cleared his throat. “Ehrm. Fenris?” The white haired elf shook his head quickly, forcing the feeling of magic out of his flesh.
“I am fine… Thank you.” The other chuckled. “What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever thanked me for healing you.” His features were soft as he smiled, making Fenris’s heart flutter. Before he could stop himself his lips pressed against Anders’ chastely, warmly.
He quickly regained himself, pulling back and sputtering an apology laced with curses. The other simply chuckled again, placing a gentle hand in his soft white hair.
“Thank you, Fenris.”
He pulled the body that the blood was pouring from closer to him, gently brushing the golden locks behind a rounded ear. His back curved smoothly as he bent over the body, cradling it in his arms and rocking back and forth, feathers tickling his nose.
Fenris had been sleeping soundly until he felt something flutter against his nose. He brushed it off, turning his head into the pillow in hopes of falling back asleep.
It wasn’t long until that flutter was on his ear, the elf quickly batting at whatever had decided to bother him today.
A few minutes passed and Fenris had almost fallen back asleep when the flutter was at his bare feet. He shot up, glaring at the man at the foot of his bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Waking you up?” The mage smiled innocently, holding something behind his back.
“What are you holding.” A demand, not a question. Anders sheepishly pulled a feather out from behind him, grinning.
“You wouldn’t wake up when I called so I-“ The blonde was cut off when Fenris shoved him into the mattress, crawling on top of him and plucking the feather from his hands.
“You will pay for this, fool mage.”
“Well I should hope so.”
After what seemed like seconds but most assuredly had been quite a long time a hand came to rest on his shoulder, making the elf flinch.
“Come on, Fenris. We need to get out of here,” the dwarf’s familiar voice reminded him. Fenris shook his head, looking over the blank face in his lap.
“Go back to the Inquisitor, Varric. I’ll join you shortly.”
“Now Broody you know-“
“Leave me, dwarf.” A gruff sigh was all he heard before slow, easy steps began to fade behind him.
“So, Broody.” Fenris grimaced at the nickname, looking up from the book he had been practicing his reading with.
“What is it?” He had hoped this would not take long, but the dwarf seated himself across the table and made himself comfortable with a glass of wine. Fenris sighed and went ahead and shut the book, knowing he would not be getting back to it anytime soon.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Varric stated as he took a sip from his glass.
“How uncharacteristic of you. I presume you are not a slaver in disguise sent to bring me back to Danarius?”
“You’re getting too quick with your jokes, elf,” he laughed in response. Fenris let a small smile slip before motioning for his companion to continue.
“I’ve noticed you and Blondie have been rather… less antagonistic towards each other.”
“I thought you’d be the first to notice.”
“Don’t worry, Isabela was close behind me.”
“Figures.”
“Anyway,” Varric raised an eyebrow, trying to coax the elf on.
“The mage and I have become… friendly, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps a bit more. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all!” He raised his hands in defense. “I just wanted to hear it from you.”
“Fair enough.” The dwarf was silent for quite some time, enough for Fenris to pick his book back up and begin working his way through it again. He wasn’t surprised when the other spoke again.
“I think you two are good for each other. Don’t let the rest of our friends convince you otherwise.” Fenris smiled softly, not looking up from the mess of letters in his hands.
“I will try not to. You have my thanks, Varric.”
“Anytime, Broody.”
Fenris shifted so that he could more easily pick up the heavy limp body, nearly stumbling back when he tried to stand. His bloody knees wobbled as he weakly tried to exit the dark halls, stepping over dead Templars and mages alike.
“You will not take them!” A deep voice rang through the dark streets, sending a chill through Fenris’s bones. He gripped his sword tighter as he glanced beside him, seeing the blue light that now emanated off of the mage beside him.
He was quickly drawn from his thoughts when a Templar swung his sword at the elf’s head, Fenris quickly ducking under it and plunging his own sword though the silver armor and into a fleshy stomach.
It didn’t take long to kill the rest of the Templars, especially with Justice giving Fenris as more boosts than he could handle at once. As the last Templar fell the elf found his was much more jittery than before, but quickly brushed it aside when Anders collapsed to the ground.
“Anders!” Fenris rushed to his side, resting his hands on either shoulder.
“Ah, I’m fine Fenris. Just a little dizzy…” The mage tried to stand only to stumble forward, Fenris catching him swiftly. The elf helped him to stand then, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him upright. He began leading the blonde home but it soon became apparent that that was not where the mage intended to go.
“The mages…” He murmured, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. “Did they escape?”
“They are fine, Anders. I watched them run.”
“Good. I-“ Anders looked at him, the arm around his shoulders tightening slightly. “Thank you, Fenris.”
Fenris leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his nose before leading him back to his clinic.
After stumbling through the corridors for some time Fenris tripped on a stray sword, tumbling to the ground. He quickly maneuvered himself so that he was underneath the body in his arms, protecting it at all costs. The sword clanged off his armor, shooting out to the side.
Fenris watched in silence as Hawke screamed, the ruins of the Chantry falling around them. Anders was standing still, not trying to defend his actions. He looked so utterly defeated, so worn out.
“You should kill him for this, Hawke! This is a greater sin than I have ever seen committed in these streets!” Fenris felt his blood boil at Sebastian’s words. Surely Hawke would not agree, however. After all Hawke had not given himself back to Danarius, so why would he-
“I agree.” Fenris’s heart stopped. Hawke had already raised a hand in the air to strike down the mage, but Fenris bolted and blocked the weapon with his broadsword.
“Hawke! What are you saying?” The elf asked desperately, eyes pleading, searching for an answer.
“I’m granting the world the gift of having one less mage mucking about and destroying everything!” The human spat, trying to kick Fenris out of the way. He quickly jumped back, sword swinging up again to block another blow, aimed this time at himself. “Why are you defending a mage? I thought you hated all mages!”
Fenris glanced back at Anders, seeing the desperate look on his face. It made him want to hold him until everything was fine again, keep him safe from anything that would ever dare hurt him. He looked back at Hawke, a new determined fire behind his eyes.
“I did. But I have learned that my judgment was clouded.” With a swift swing of his blade he now had the upper hand, using the hilt of his sword to push Hawke backwards.
“I love this mage, and I will defend him with my life!”
The elf lay on the ground, heaving at the weight on top of him but doing nothing to move it. His breath slowly began to even out, hugging the now cold mage to himself as everything went black.
---
He awoke with a groan, a hand quickly shooting to his forehead. It felt like his entire head was throbbing.
“Ah, good to see you’re finally up Broody!” That familiar voice flowed into his ears, making him groan. Fenris was about to reply when his eyes shot open, quickly sitting up in the bed.
“Where is Anders?” He asked harshly, swinging his legs off the bed and pacing across the room.
“Fenris…” Varric eyed him sadly as the elf quickly pulled on his armor, latching his broadsword to his back.
“Where is he, dwarf.”
It was not a question, it was a demand.
“The funeral is later today. We were just waiting for you to-“ The elf was already out the door.
---
Varric sat down after giving when he told the inquisitor would be a short speech, but ended up being one of his longer stories. He didn’t care, though. Blondie deserved it.
He glanced around one last time as the people began to file out of the small chantry room. None of them had really known Anders, so he couldn’t blame them for not feeling remorseful.
Fenris hadn’t shown up.
The dwarf sighed and stood. It was probably for the best. Broody would have cut off his speech before it got so out of hand… Or maybe he wouldn’t have. The elf was different from when Varric had last seen him. Something had definitely changed him.
Or maybe someone.
---
Later that night Varric decided to visit Blondie. Maybe it’d put his spirit at ease to have someone familiar say good night to him on his first night in the new area. He’d be here for a while, after all.
He stopped on the path as he neared the mage’s tomb, lantern flickering dimly in the light.
“I must return to take care of your cats now, Anders,” a shadow whispered from where it was kneeling beside the very grave Varric had intended to visit. “Good night, my love.”
Varric smiled warmly as the shadowy figure turned and swiftly left the muddy grave yard.
It looked like someone had beaten him to it.