Chapter Text
Fenris swore as he made his way to what looked like a fortress. He was exhausted from running from the slavers on his tail, and as it was, he hadn’t eaten in quite some time. The elf was sure if exhaustion didn’t get him, then the slavers would if they caught him in this state.
Luck was with him as he stumbled over a corpse that was still warm, it’s pack hadn’t been taken by bandits and it was full of provisions. He snatched it up and took an apple to eat while making his way up the road. He managed to get into the old fortress just in time to see a group of darkspawn get smeared over the paving as a human clad in blue and grey silverite, a woman in a winged helmet and a...mage in Tevinter style robes hurried down the stairs.
He was about to ask what was going on, but the mage beat him to it. He likely wasn’t a magister, though he had the nerve to be dressed like one outside the borders of his homeland.
Anders skidded to a halt, the Grey Warden and the would-be warden almost crashing into him at the bottom of the stairs. The last few hours had been a haze of capture, release, darkspawn, and one hilarious death. Anders was going to be smiling for a long time over that damned gurgle that Biff had made. Served the templar right. The idiot had had the audacity to berate Anders all the way to the keep and then scream at him to do something when the darkspawn had attacked.
No, thank you.
Anders moved out of the way so the Grey Wardens could get by him and he tilted his head to the side, raking his eyes up and down the elf. “Wait... Are the darkspawn getting prettier or is there an elf eating an apple in front of us?”
Fenris arched an eyebrow at the mage and threw his core away. “I’m no darkspawn...mage, nor am I ‘pretty’. Or should I call you magister?” The warrior snarled at the mage and drew his blade, if this man was a magister, he would go down fighting.
“Whoa, whoa!,” one of the Grey Warden’s said, holding up his hands and inserting himself between the two. “In case it’s escaped either of you, we’re under attack here. I’m Aedan Cousland and this is Mhairi. Now unless either of you want to consider running, then we need to get moving.”
It was hard to make out facial features under the helmet that Aedan was wearing, but Anders couldn't mistake the hard glint in his eyes.
“Running is always good,” Anders said. His eyes drifted to the corpses littering the ground. Human and darkspawn, it was a grisly sight. “But I think I’ll stick around for a while.”
He sent the elf a crooked grin. “How about you? Think you can put that sword to good use? Maker, look at that thing. It’s taller than you are. I’m Anders by the way.”
The elf glared at the mage before he addressed the warden. “I will fight with you for now, it seems it’s that or be eaten by these creatures; not a fate I would prefer to have.” He sheathed the greatsword with one hand, his expression stony for the faux magister in their midst.
“I am called Fenris, and as long as we stick together to survive I am with you. Lead on.” He gave the one called Aedan a half-bow and fell in next to the armored woman on his other side. The mage didn’t rate a response for the moment. Once he was sure they weren’t all going to be consumed by the Blight, then he’d deal with the irritating blond.
Aedan gave him a sharp nod and then the three warriors were off, leaving Anders to follow. The mage placed his hands on his hips and called out after them. “Nevermind me! I’m just the mage who might just save your life with some healing. Nothing to see here!”
He hurried after them, muttering under his breath. “Darkspawn, templars, or Grey Wardens, with a dash of prickly elf. Lovely choices those.” He grinned to himself as his eyes lingered on Fenris’ backside. “At least he’s nice to look at.”
Fenris turned and snarled at the mage. “If you want to keep your eyes in your head you will cease your prattle mage. Otherwise I will pluck them from your skull and use them for decorating my sword. Stop talking to or about me.”
The elf moved further away from Anders, his markings flashing in the daylight, a strange blue that was almost too pale in the sun. He muttered under his breath as they made their way into the Keep and came across the sounds of fighting down the hall. “More darkspawn?”
“Is the elf glowing?” Anders asked in a stage-whisper. “Because that’s--”
“Not now,” Aedan hissed. “We can have all the questions and answers when the keep is cleared, agreed?”
“Yes, agreed.” Fenris murmured as he drew his sword again, ready to charge in once the other warrior had slammed the door open. What he saw was a red-headed dwarf cleaving himself a path among the darkspawn that had him surrounded. He had to admit he’d never seen anyone so happy to be knee deep in destruction.
“Friend of yours, Cousland?”
In reply, Aedan laughed and joined the fray. He slammed his shield into a darkspawn, sending the creature to flying across the room. In a fluid movement he whirled around and slashed, a fountain of blood erupting from a partially severed throat of another darkspawn.
“I’ve seen him do this a few times in the past hour,” Anders muttered. “Still disturbing.” He reached behind him and pulled his staff free from his back. Whirling it over his head, fire burst to life at the end, a ball of flame growing larger and larger with each pass. There was a part of Anders that winced at the destruction of the inner workings of the keep. The place was ancient, and there were large paintings of the former Arl and his family displayed proudly on the walls. Someone had been busy recently removing them. Anders had spotted more than one place on the stones that had once held a painting or tapestry, the stones lighter in color as if they had sat in place of pride for centuries.
Still, it wasn’t his home.
“Out of the way!” Anders cried a bit too jovially as he flung the fireball free from his staff. The dwarf and Aedan had only seconds before it landed in the middle of the circle of darkspawn, exploding in a shower of flames.
Fenris grimaced at the feel of the fireball spell erupting near him. He shook it off and went after a group of them, taking heads as he made his way to the middle of the room. Unfortunately some of their blood got into a minor wound he’d taken. It didn’t bother him but he felt a mild sting where their blood seemed to be working it’s way into his system.
“I think that’s all of them for now.” he said before he leaned against a balustrade and tried to catch his breath.
Anders was riding high on the exhilaration of battle. He rarely if ever got a chance to let loose with his magic, always so careful to keep it hidden in case he was under the watchful eyes of the templars. He barely heard the exchange between Aedan and the dwarf and was dimly aware when the two embraced.
He did hear it when the dwarf insulted him.
“Boyfriend?” Anders’ eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m Aedan’s boyfriend? Oh, he should be so lucky.”
“Yer the one in the skirt,” the dwarf replied as he leaned against a railing.
“Oh Grin? Urgh In? Whatever your name is... I’ll have you know this is the raiment of one of the magisters of Tevinter. I had to spend a pretty copper on it.” Anders crossed his arms and tilted his chin up.
“Still a skirt,” the dwarf chuckled darkly. “I came here to become a Grey Warden and I find darkspawn instead. Oh, and a mouthy mage.”
Aedan rolled his eyes. “Maker...” he breathed. “Once again, we aren’t doing this right now. I’m happy to see you, Oghren, but we still have work to do.”
Fenris stood up and sheathed his sword, no point in waving it around if there was nothing to kill at the moment. He glared at the mage and decided he was going to shred that Tevinter robe the second they were done with fighting these creatures.
“What is left to do, where are we headed anyway? All we’ve done is make our way through these tunnels so far.” Fenris muttered, he felt a flash of dizziness before he caught himself from leaning against the wall again.
Anders glanced over at the elf sharply. “You all right?” But before he could bring it to Aedan’s attention, the wardens and Oghren were off once more, rushing down a corridor.
“Andraste’s tits,” Anders mumbled. “Give a mage a moment to catch his breath at least.”
The elf just rolled his eyes and followed behind them, giving the mage no reply. If he was tired, it was because he was running on empty, little food, little sleep and had been ready to drop as it was before they tear-assed off looking for darkspawn to kill.
Instead he ran on, stopping only when they came across another warden that had been injured. Mhairi seemed to know him, and was furious at the state he was in.
Anders caught up to them just as the warden they had found on the floor died. “Shit,” he muttered. Aedan didn’t give them much of a chance to process anything before he was running again, his sword slick with dark blood and a grim, determined set to his jaw.
They fought their way through the keep, stopping only long enough for Anders to see to wounds before moving on again. Aedan set a relentless pace, one that Oghren seemed to be used to as the dwarf was right by Aedan’s side the whole way. Anders could feel himself flagging and had the bitter taste of lyrium on his tongue from the potions he’d been forced to resort to.
But as horrifying as the dead wardens they came across were, their bodies mutilated and barely recognizable except for their torn and blood stained tabards, as grisly as the countless darkspawn they encountered, the five of them cutting down each and every one, nothing compared to what they saw when they finally made it to the roof of the keep.
Fenris felt winded for the first time in ages, but what he saw and heard snatched whatever breath he’d regained in a heartbeat. That creature was talking, it was a darkspawn that had it’s blade up to an older man’s neck and was ...talking.
“Cousland, that’s not normal is it? Darkspawn don’t talk do they?” He asked as he took a moment to breathe again, to find that he was flagging more than he could recall in recent times. Once this fight was over, he was going to sleep for a week.
“That’s...” Aedan began. “That’s not normal.”
Anders visibly shuddered as the creature ranted on, its sword held to the human’s throat. Night had fallen and a sudden wind swept through the air, sending the scent of death and ash flying.
When the darkspawn flung the human to the side and charged at Aedan, Anders’ heart kicked up. Maker, when this was over, Anders was going to stay as far away from Grey Wardens as possible. Who would ask for this? Oghren and Mhairi obviously.
Not Anders.
Oghren kept back the two darkspawn that were with the one that had spoken, while Aedan and Mhairi flanked the creature, their swords flashing in the moonlight while the clash of steel against steel rang in the air.
Anders lifted his arms to the sky and muttered a spell, sending barely seen, shimmering light over them, closing wounds and soothing bruises. The roof was precarious and the walkway narrow. He couldn’t risk an offensive spell.
Fenris went at the creature with all he had, until finally he and Aedan took it down with strikes that shut it up for good. That last blow sapped what strength the elf had and he felt himself sinking to the ground, the weight of his weapon too much for him after the last fight.
“Mmmphn,” was all he could mumble as he laid on the cool stones, fighting to keep his eyes open. It didn’t matter since everything was getting murky and dark. “Help...” was his last word before losing consciousness.
Aedan’s sword clattered to the stones as he rushed to Fenris’ side, Anders meeting him there, and the two men fell to their knees beside the elf. Anders raised his hands to hover over Fenris, a healing spell at the ready on his fingers when Aedan gripped him by the wrist, stopping him from touching the fallen elf..
“Don’t,” he said quietly when Anders opened his mouth to protest. “Look.” His hands went to the collar of Fenris’ tunic, the steel covered fingers a bit clumsy as he pulled the fabric apart with a loud rip.
“Looks like the elf is joining,” Oghren said from over Anders’ shoulder.
Against dark skin and silver lines, black seeped just under Fenris’ flesh in a rapidly progressing corruption.
“Maker...” Anders breathed. “Is that--”
“It’s the taint,” Mhairi finished. “He must join or he’ll die.”
**
If Fenris had been able to protest he might have, he had no desire to flee from one master to another but he was in no shape to do anything. As it was the other warden had to force his jaw open to get him to drink from the Joining chalice.
It was close and they weren’t sure what would happen thanks to the odd silver tattoos he had but after a couple of tense moments where he went into convulsions, the elf finally came around briefly then collapsed at Aedan’s feet.
That he was going to murder whoever had beaten him like that; was his first thought when his eyes opened in the dim light of the infirmary. Fenris sat up and gagged on the lingering taste in his mouth, the disgusting feeling of choking on blood as he tried to rise from the cot until he heard retching coming from the other side of the infirmary.
He looked over to see the damned mage was there too, his robes discarded in favor of a dark blue tunic and coarse pants, his back bent as he tried to void anything he’d eaten recently.
“Stop making all that racket, people are trying to die in peace over here.” the elf slurred when he gave up and laid back on the cot, closed his eyes and tried to get the taste out of his mouth.
“Oh,” Anders moaned. “Is my own slow death disturbing you?” He sat up and wiped at his mouth with a rag he had clutched in his hand. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll be sure to die quieter because the handsome elf has demanded it of me.”
He flopped back on his cot and moaned. “Perfect,” he said to himself. “Now I get to be stuck with the elf who although has a gorgeous voice and says the most cruel things with it. This is just how I wanted today to end.”
“You know,” he said idly to Fenris, “you could at least be a bit thankful that you’re alive.” Anders stared at the ceiling, one arm shoved under his head, the other on his stomach. “Not that either of us were given much choice in the matter now that I think of it. Death or the Grey Wardens. Hey, do you think that’s their motto? If it’s not it should be.” He rambled on, uncaring if Fenris replied or not. “Of course, if today is a showing of what the Grey Wardens do, then we’re going to die soon anyway. Become a Grey Warden and get away from the Templars. Lovely idea, Aedan, thank you for that.” The last was said more to himself.
Fenris would have gotten up and slammed the mage into the floor if he didn’t feel weak as a kitten himself. “Shut up, you idiot magister. Stop calling me handsome, and for Maker’s sake just shut up already. I don’t remember anything, but I guess being alive beats contracting the Blight.”
The elf gingerly sat up again and tried to go for the pitcher of water near his cot. He made it and gulped down two glassfuls before he let his head hit the table. “I’d be more grateful if the room would stop spinning.”
“You went into convulsions,” Anders said in all seriousness. “Aedan thought that your... markings might have made you react badly to the Joining. I’m not going to lie, I did think twice after I saw that. And Mhairi... She died. The Joining killed her.”
He cleared his throat and sat up. “I could...” He wiggled his fingers in Fenris’ direction. “You know... It might help you to feel better.”
“No mage has ever made me feel better, and I doubt you can do so. Stop wiggling your fingers at me. I will be fine, eventually. Keep your hands to yourself and don’t get any ideas about my markings either, I’m not a walking lyrium bottle.”
Fenris made his way back to his cot and landed face down with a groan. “I still want to die if being a warden feels like this” he grumbled before he closed his eyes in an attempt to make the room stop spinning around.
Lyrium?
“That’s,” Anders said, appalled, “lyrium? Why would you... I mean... Why aren’t you dead? That much lyrium inside you and...” He couldn’t finish his thought, couldn’t find the words to express his absolute horror. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t do that, you fool, my old master did this to me. How I’m not dead? I have no idea and you are not going to experiment on me to find out. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.” the warrior thought about getting up but decided face down was the best way to be at the moment.
“Now shut up and let me sleep.”
But if there was one thing Anders did not do well, it was shutting up. His mouth was always a constant source of trouble for him, and sometimes he wondered if the filter that most others had was just weak in him or lacking completely.
“I’m not going to touch you. But did you say ‘master’? Were you a servant? Why did he do that to you? Was he insane? He must have been insane. No one who wasn’t mad would have done that. Is that why your hair is white? Was it always like that or did the lyrium do it?” He snapped his fingers in sudden realization. “The glowing! I knew it looked familiar. You can tap into the lyrium, can’t you?”
“I was a slave, no magister would waste this much lyrium on a mere servant. Now shut up you damned idiot, my head hurts and your prattle is making it worse. Go find something to talk at but leave me the void alone.” Fenris gritted his teeth and pulled a pillow over his head as he tried to will the headache away as well as the mage.
“Magister? You’re from Tevinter?” Anders dropped his legs over the cot and leaned forward, his forearms propped up on his thigh, his hands dangling between his knees. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Minus the whole slavery thing, that is.”
“I figured you’d already been since you were in Magisters ROBES when I saw you, mage.” Fenris sat up and bared his teeth at the tall human. “Of course you’d want to go there, every mage that doesn’t live there thinks its some fantasy land where they can be free to do their craft as they please with no consequences.”
He stood up and went over to the mage, his brands almost incandescent in the dim light of the room. “Mages, all of them want the power promised by the Archon, by the magisters. Well let me tell you something... Anders...” he said the blond mage’s name like he had a mouthful of nug shit, his expression murderous.
“Tevinter is a cesspit of depravity,slavery, power, and politics. You would not last five minutes there before you were collared and sold off to someone for more gold than you would see in your lifetime. You would become a slave, live and die a slave in someone’s villa, serving for their amusement or keeping some old bastard alive despite what nature demands of all of us. No, I will not feed your flights of fancy over what you think Tevinter is for you and other mages.”
The elf went back to his cot and sat down, the exertion was almost too much for him but he was angry and only wanted to rest and then speak with Aedan about what happened next; not entertain this idiot mage and his fantasies.
For once in his life, Anders had been rendered speechless. “I... uh... That is...” He breathed out a sigh and scrubbed at his face. “Tevinter is all some of us have,” he said softly. “A place where you won’t be demeaned for just being born a mage. The Circles ban most books on Tevinter, unless it comes straight from the Chantry. We only hear rumors and whispers. For some of us, it’s... Tevinter is freedom. I know... I know it’s not perfect. The magisters enslave the way the templars do. But I...”
He felt suddenly tired. Not just from the long, arduous day, but also from his life up to this point. He was so tired of running, of hiding, of feeling powerless, and frightened. He was tired of losing people he cared about to the point that it had become easier not to care at all. And now he was tied to the Grey Wardens by blood, the way he had been tied to his father by blood, a cruel man who had hated what his son was. He was bound to them as much as he was bound to the Circle, blood and magic holding him tightly, his phylactery hidden from him.
The Grey Wardens or death.
At least there were no templars.
“Do not dare compare the way you are treated to slavery. You are educated, clothed, fed, allowed to learn. I was property, my life continued on another’s whim and yours did not. Do not think we have anything in common, mage, not now or ever.” Fenris stood and stalked to an open window, the breeze helped his mood and cleared his head. All he wanted was time alone, to deal with the change and to get away from this damned fool. It figured he’d have a thing for what he thought Tevinter was, and not the cold, hard reality.
“Oh, so because my cage was pretty and I was well-fed that means I didn’t have it bad?” Anders felt anger rise up in him. “You know what? I might not understand what Tevinter is really like, but you know nothing about how the Circles work in the rest of Thedas. I might forgive your handsome face a lot of things, but that’s going too far.”
Fenris turned and let his markings blaze to show his fury. “I made no such accusations, magister. But you were no one’s property, you were never led around like a prized dog to be shown off. You were allowed to learn to read, to write I’m guessing. I was not, my meals, my sleep, even being allowed to bathe was all at my master’s whim on a given day. If I didn’t perform as he wished, I starved, if I didn’t behave as he wished, I did not sleep, I was treated no better than his toy. Never, ever compare my suffering to yours if you wish to keep your heart inside your chest.”
The elf realized he was screaming and he was almost chest-to-chest with with the tall mage. In his anger he’d advanced on the other man and had nearly phased his hand into the mage warden’s chest.
“Do not... simply do not think yourself better than me, nor compare your gilded cage to being owned, mage. Not if you wish to keep drawing breath.” Fenris finished on a choked whisper before he went back to the cot to get his things and leave. If there was a Maker he’d find Aedan and arrange something so he didn’t have to deal with Anders again.
“I was kept in a dark cell for an entire year after an escape,” Anders whispered harshly. “There was little light and no one came to see me except to slide my two meals under my door. I heard things... I heard... The dungeon was where the templars took people. They raped them down there in the dark, they tortured them in that blasted pit where no one could witness their depravity.
“But I was there and knew. It didn’t matter, though. Did you know they thought I wouldn’t make it out of there sane? They had left me to fucking rot. It would have been kinder to make me Tranquil or to kill me. But I...” Anders cut himself off. He didn’t need to explain himself to Fenris. He had sworn he would never speak of what had happened when he had been in the dark. That he was speaking to it now and to this asshole of an elf...
Anders laid back down on the cot and rolled over, turning his back to Fenris. He had been wrong, this day could get worse.
Fenris straightened up as best he could and snapped his sword into its scabbard. “Oh poor mage, you say that like no one else has suffered but you. When you see magisters bleed a little boy dry for entertainment and can do nothing to save him but snap his neck to end his suffering, tell me how bad you had it. When you are bound and made to service demons at your master’s behest, speak to me of suffering...when you---”
Whatever Fenris was going to say next was cut off by the door banging open and Aedan stalking in to see why one of the guards had come running for him to get to the infirmary before the new wardens murdered each other.
Anders had seen Aedan without his helmet earlier and his appearance still surprised him. For someone who was the young Hero of Ferelden, Aedan looked older than Anders. His short, dark hair was peppered with silver, and he had lines that crinkled at the corners of his eyes.
Anders was willing to bet they weren’t from laughter.
In fact, from the way his dark eyes were narrowed in annoyance, the mage thought that it was that exact look that had given Aedan those lines.
“You two having fun in here?” Aedan asked. “Because we can hear you all the way down at the main hall. I know that this wasn’t what either of you would have wanted for yourselves,” Anders snorted at this, “but this is reality now. I expect my wardens to get along. I’ve seen what happens when they don’t, and that’s not going to happen here.”
“So what do you propose, all mighty leader,” Anders asked. “Since we are now under your thrall.”
Aedan pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you start. The king and I were only trying to help you. I’m not going to hold you here, but you need to know that no matter where you go in life, you’re a Grey Warden now. That’s not an oath you can be forsworn on.”
Fenris had bowed his head slightly at the other man’s words. He didn’t like the idea that he was beholden to the order but it also meant he wasn’t dead either. “I’d not call it fun, Ser Cousland, anything but,” the elf stood at a parade rest, the posture ingrained in him from years of guarding Danarius that he fell into it easily when Aedan spoke.
“Relax, Fenris,” Aedan said gently. “I’m your commander, but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like...” He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “As long as you are willing to fight with me, that’s all i can ask of you--either of you,” he stressed. “I also expect you two to try and get along, so I’m going to be putting you in the same bedchamber. If you can’ at least live together, then you are definitely going to end up dying together and getting others killed as well. Have either of you ever been in the Deep Roads?” He didn’t wait for a response before continuing on. “It’s another world down there. The darkspawn don’t care about the niceties of battle and the Deep Roads is their territory. We keep each other safe down there, because we have no one else to rely on.”
“Wait, wait... What?” Anders shot to his feet. “I am not sharing a room with him. He threatened to kill me!”
“Most of my friends have threatened to kill me on meeting me,” Aedan laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t the first time it happened to you.”
Fenris shrugged, at that moment he would room with the smelly dwarf if it meant he could sleep in a real bed and have a hot meal. “While I do not care for the sleeping arrangements, I will not argue, Commander. Right now I’d kiss Oghren and lick the floor if it meant I could sleep in a real bed tonight.”
He looked over to the mage and gave him a nasty smirk. “Besides, it’s not as if time may not temper us or prove who can be civil when need be. Besides, I won’t kill you if you stop talking to me, Anders.”
“Where might this shared space be, Commander Cousland?”
Aedan grinned. The blasted man actually looked happy. “Come with me and I’ll show you. There are only a few of us here right now, so the two of you can have one of the larger rooms.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Anders muttered under his breath.
Aedan turned and slapped the mage on the back, rocking him forward. “See? This is a great beginning.”
Fenris just smiled and muttered in return. “Not if I take you out first, magister.” The elf left him to walk side by side with the commander, his step lively as he imagined how the mage had to be fuming as they went.
**
Anders was starving. He smiled up at the servant that set down yet another plate of food in front of him before digging in. This was his fourth plate of food and it still didn’t seem like enough. Across from him, Oghren was busy stuffing his face without any regard as to who was watching him.
What little possessions that Anders had had been quickly dropped off in the spacious bedchamber he and Fenris had been given. He had to get away from the elf.
Fenris was rude.
He was abrupt.
He didn’t hide his opinions.
Anders didn’t know whether to strangle him or try and make him one of his best friends. There were so many things that Anders liked about the elf, and just as many things he was beginning to hate.
He scowled down at his half empty plate. Had they really just spent time trying to one up each other on who had been more oppressed? because it sure seemed that way. it seemed so ridiculous now that Anders thought about it, but he would never admit it to anyone.
The dining hall at the Vigil was massive and meant to hold a large amount of people for feasts and banquets. Long tables were lined up in several rows down the room, while the ceiling above them soared high with a system of giant pillars and support beams. Three iron chandeliers hung from chains overhead, their many candles blazing and casting light into almost every corner.
It also was painfully empty.
Except for Oghren and Aedan sitting next to him, there was no one else in the hall. It brought home to the mage just how many people had been lost when the darkspawn had attacked and how few Grey Wardens there were in Ferelden.
It was... a bit depressing.
**
Fenris had claimed the bed closest to the window, his belongings put into the chest at the foot of his bed. He was torn between a bath and sleep in a real bed and the hunger gnawing at him. Even at his worst when on the run, he couldn’t recall being so starved.
Soon enough hunger won out and he made his way down to the dining hall, dressed in a rogue’s armor instead of a warrior’s. The heavy plate threw off his swing and interacted poorly with his markings, so he settled for the rogues’ usual gear.
He huffed in disappointment that the mage was still there, but sitting together couldn’t be avoided no more than rooming together for the time being. Fenris slid next to Aedan, right across from Anders and Oghren.
“This place is almost vacant, did the Blight take out that many wardens?” he wondered aloud before tucking into his plate, nearly cleaning it before he realized he had nearly inhaled more food in one sitting than he’d been allowed at Danarius’ most generous.
Like clockwork, the same servant came by with a new plate, swept fenris’ old one away and set down the new one before moving off.
Oghren and Aedan exchanged a glance before Aedan cleared his throat. “The new King of Ferelden, Alistair, he’s a Grey Warden. With you, me, Oghren, and Anders, that brings our lovely total up to five wardens in all of Ferelden. We can’t count on Alistair right now, though.”
“Boy’s a king,” Oghren said with a burp. “He’s got enough to worry about. Besides, I don’t think they’ll let him off with us anymore.”
Anders’ fork fell with a clatter on his empty plate. “Wait... So it’s true then? All the Grey Wardens were killed at Ostagar?”
Aedan jerked his eyes away. “All except three. We lost one during the fight with the Archdemon.”
“Five... well four Wardens? That’s it?” Fenris sounded choked at the news that all the wardens in Ferelden were gathered together at the table.
“How in the Void are we supposed to stop a blight with four men?” He asked, his voice harsh after nearly choking on his dinner.
“Aedan here did it with two,” Oghren said.
“We aren’t.” Aedan met Fenris’ eyes. “There’d been some Orlesian wardens in the keep when the darkspawn attacked. I’ll have to send for more. We’ll also have to--”
“Recruit.” Anders shuddered. “How many usually die during the Joining?”
“When I joined there were two others with me,” Aedan admitted. “I was the only one to survive.”
The table fell silent.
“This is just wonderful!” Anders burst out. “So if a Blight happens and we aren’t ready...”
“We will be,” Aedan said. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he gritted his teeth.
Fenris pushed his plate away and stood, he could stand no more of it. He was no Hero like Aedan, nor did he even want to be a damned warden. He left the table and went to his room so he could get his bathing supplies and go hide in a tub for awhile. This was too much and he didn’t know what else to say so he left.
After wandering for a bit, the elven warden found the baths and slipped into a tub that was filled with hot, nicely scented water. It felt amazing, even getting his stiff muscles to loosen as he relaxed.
The baths were a public space in the keep and the door opened, letting some of the cool air in before it was quickly shut. Aedan didn’t acknowledge Fenris beyond a small nod of his head in greeting before stripping off his armor and his clothes, stacking them neatly in a corner.
Uncaring of his nudity, he walked to the edge of one of the heated tubs and slipped into the water with a groan.
Fenris slipped under the water once to wet his hair and lather it, and again to rinse off. He let a small groan of appreciation slip out, then closed his eyes and relaxed. After he’d stormed off, he didn’t think the commander would want to talk to him. The elf decided that unless Aedan said something, he’d remain silent.
“I’m sorry that this isn’t what you would have chosen for yourself,” Aedan finally said. He grabbed a cake of soap and began to lather a wet cloth.
“Well apparently it was that or die, so it’s not much of a choice Aedan.” Fenris muttered as he combed through his hair to get the tangles out that would form if he let it air dry. “I suppose I should be grateful to be here, but I would be more grateful if you did not room me with that foolish magister in waiting.”
Aedan’s lips quirked in a small smile as he began to scrub at his arms. “You have more experience with them than me, I gather. But Anders doesn’t seem to have the complete lack of decency and compassion that most magisters do. Fucking slavers.” He muttered the last.
“Only time will tell, finding him in magisters robes really doesn’t make me feel compelled to believe that. Most magisters I’ve known could fool a Revered Mother into thinking they attended Chantry every week with the purest of hearts before they bled their slaves dry for sacrifice.”
He finished washing then stood and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, still shy around the men he didn’t know. Fenris gathered his armor and put a tunic on before he went to the door. “We shall see Aedan, but know that I do not like him, nor will I suddenly learn to do so simply because we share the same taint in our blood now. Goodnight.”
“Wait a moment,” Aedan called. He quickly ducked under the water and rinsed himself off before rising and grabbing a drying cloth. He turned his back to Fenris to give the elf some sense of security, before pulling on his breeches and tunic. His back was heavily muscled and there were lines of scars marring his flesh, but not nearly as many as he had across his chest.
When he was dressed, he picked up his boots and gave Fenris a quick smile. “I’m too tired to drag my armor back to my room.” He sighed and scrubbed at his face.
“Look, I don’t think the two of you will become best friends, but I would like at least for you to get along. If it really becomes a problem, you need to tell me. I don’t want... I don’t want either of you to be fucking miserable. If it’s not going to work, it’s not going to work.” In that moment, Aedan looked as young as he truly was. Twenty years old and he had been given an arldom and the command of the Wardens of Ferelden.
Fenris sighed as he waited for Aedan to join him in the hallway. “Like I said, we’ll see, Aedan. I won’t make a promise I can’t keep but if it gets to a point where I might actually want to kill him? I’ll let you know alright?”
He was suddenly tired, sore and just wanted to get some sleep. Even the idea of the conversation with the warden commander made him feel a bit older. “As long as he acts like he has some sense, I won’t murder him in his sleep. Is that enough for now?”
“More than enough,” Aedan replied with a grin as he and Fenris made their way down the hall. “Although I don’t think you should get your hopes up for Anders making sense. He seems to revel in prodding people. I just want... I want to create something great. I want to bring the Grey Wardens back to what they once were so we aren’t caught off guard again.”
There had been unspoken undertones to his words. ‘I want a family again. I want to create camaraderie.’ Aedan never wanted the Grey Wardens to return to a point where there were only two, new recruits against the horde and an Archdemon.
“Maybe tomorrow we can talk some more,” Aedan ventured.
“Once I awaken, right now I feel I could sleep for a week. I will seek you out after breakfast if that would be alright?” Fenris said before he yawned, surprised at how tired he was after the bath.
“Get your rest,” Aedan told him. He reached out to clasp Fenris on his back, but stopped himself. He lowered his arm. “The taint will make you hungry for a long time. Eat as much as you want. The kitchen has been told to expect wardens at all hours and to feed them when they ask. There will be... other changes, but we can discuss that tomorrow. Sleep well, Fenris. Please don’t kill our mage.”
“Luckily for him, I’m too tired to kill anyone right now.” Fenris muttered before he left the human warrior and returned to his room. Once his armor was put on the stand he crawled into the bed and let out an indecent noise at how good it felt. He was clean, full and he had a real bed for the first time since escaping. If he was lucky the mage would let him be
.Anders had fallen asleep on top of the sheets, still fully clothed minus his boots which sat on the floor next to the bed. His small pack was still full and had been placed near his feet, while his staff was gripped tightly in his hands.
He started at the noise and sat upright, his hand outstretched and a spell flickering on his fingers.
“It’s just me you fool, go back to sleep.” Fenris muttered before he rolled away to face the window.
Their beds had been placed on opposite sides of the room and Anders flopped back on his, the spell on his hand winking out. “Shit,” he panted. “Don’t... Don’t startle me like that.” With a murmured spell he lit a small lamp on a table near his bed. Light flooded the room and Anders relaxed into the mattress. It had still been faintly light when he had fallen asleep. If he’d been thinking, he wouldn’t have given himself a chance to be left in the cloying darkness.
“You must sleep like a thief to be startled by that noise. Go to sleep magister, I will not be kept awake by your stupidity any more today.”Fenris grumbled and pulled the sheet over his head to block out the light in the room. “Stop wasting oil, snuff out that lamp.”
Anders rolled his eyes and with a word, a tiny light flickered at the end of his staff. He rolled over and snuffed out the lamp. The small light he had conjured wasn’t nearly as bright as the lamp had been. “Better? Because I refuse to sleep in the dark.”
A low growl was his answer, and a rustling as the elf tried to get comfortable and not give in to his urge to throttle the mage. “Why, you are in a warden stronghold, no one is coming for you and you don’t need to burn a lamp this time of night. Just don’t keep me awake because you’re scared. Now go the void to sleep, mage, before I put you to sleep.”
Anders clenched his jaw to keep back a scathing retort. Waking up, disoriented in the darkness had not left him at his best. “Good night, love,” he said instead, unable to hold back completely. He rolled over so he was facing the light he had created.
Fenris sat up and glared at the mage. “Don’t...just don’t, mage. Do not use that word or that tone with me if you want to keep breathing.” It brought back too many bad memories, nights where Hadriana spent hours tormenting him then sent him back to Danarius with that word on her lips, used against him when she wouldn’t know love if it jumped up and bit her on the ass.
The elf sat there, hands clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to beat some sense into the blond mage.
“Good night, Fenfen,” Anders cooed instead.
Despite his fatigue and the fact he’d promised Aedan he wouldn’t kill the mage, the nickname set his temper off and before he knew it, Fenris was across the room and straddling Anders, hands wrapped around the mage’s throat and his brands glowing and throwing splashes of blue erratically around the room.
“I promised Aedan I wouldn't kill you at least tonight, but I swear to the Maker if you don’t shut the fuck up I will kill you slowly as I can. Now if you want to live to see the sun rise you will shut your damned mouth, mage. Or I will shut it permanently. Am I clear?”
A spike of fear went through Anders, sharp and familiar. He swallowed, letting himself feel the way Fenris’ hands curled against his throat and the weight of the deceptively slight elf pressing him down.
“There are three ways,” Anders gasped, “to get me to shut up. Either fuck me, make me, or stop telling me to do it. I can tell you that I don’t react very well to being told what to do. It makes me,” he gasped again, “want to do the opposite.”
Fenris smiled then, and pressed harder on the mage’s throat, his thumbs tucked away from his windpipe so he wouldn’t do permanent damage but he intended to put a healthy fear of him into the other warden. He had no intention of fucking him, so he decided that he’d keep the pressure on until the mage either submitted or passed out.
The small erection that Anders had had died a little as the elf squeezed. There was something about the danger he was in, Fenris’ harsh gaze glittering down at him, and the elf pinning him to the mattress that set off all of the mage’s nerves.
He’d be damned if he let the elf know it.
Ice erupted on his hand and his arm snapped up towards Fenris’ hip..
The feeling of a cold hand and magic flaring underneath him set Fenris’ rage over the top. The hell with choking Anders to death, he was going to have his heart. He ignored the cold grasp on his hip and let one hand go translucent and bright before he sunk it into Anders chest.
“You have one chance to let go of me, otherwise the last thing you see will be your heart in my hand mage. Hands up and where I can see them...NOW.”
Anders’ eyes rolled in the back of his head, but he slowly raised his hands, the ice spell dissipating. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t see. All he could do was feel the horrifying hand in his chest that clutched at his rapidly beating heart.
“Good, you can follow direction when it’s really important that’s good to know.” Fenris purred as he watched how Anders held himself perfectly still under him. “Now, you are going to be quiet for the rest of the night. If you speak to me, it better not be until tomorrow after I’ve had breakfast and a chance to fully awaken; or the Keep is on fire. Other than that, I do not want to hear a word out of you Anders. Shake your head, slow and careful if you understand, otherwise I keep going and pull out your spine.”
Fenris looked like a demon the way he was on top of the unfortunate mage, his brands casting shadows that danced and writhed on the walls, over them as he awaited the nod that would let him climb off the other warden and get some sleep.
The look that Anders gave him was pure loathing. magic danced for a moment behind his eyes as the two men stared at each other. Snapping his eyes closed, Anders gave a curt nod.
“Thank you for that, now perhaps next time you will belive me when I say I will kill you if you don’t stop. Let’s get some sleep and perhaps tomorrow, start fresh, deal?” Fenris let his hand pull free, surprisingly free of blood as he rose and gracefully got off the other mans bed, and awaited an answer.
In reply, Anders shot up from the bed. He snatched up his pack and shoes and strode over to the door. He turned towards the elf. “You’re an asshole,” he snarled, before he yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind him.
Fenris had half a mind to go after the mage, but he realized that he had the room to himself for the night and he could finally get some damned sleep. He’d worry about the damage done in the morning. He crawled into his bed and fell into an uneasy sleep, his subconscious mind nagged at him for what he’d done to the man he barely knew but had judged unworthy from the word go.
**
The next morning found Anders in the dining hall eating his breakfast and telling Aedan jokes. After he had left, he had started towards where Aedan had said his own bedchamber was, before he’d stopped himself. He wasn’t going to let this elf chase him out and he would be damned if he let anyone else know how much Fenris had frightened him.
Anders didn’t like to feel helpless--not like that. He knew he’d had his own part to play in the debacle that had happened and it had bothered him as he had slept in an empty room he had found, curled up in his coat.
This was how things started with him. He pushed and pushed and didn’t stop until he had not only crossed the line, but taken a piss on it. It was a defense mechanism with him, something he did when he felt out of his element.
It was his bad luck that he had chosen a target that had little patience for that. Not that many people ever did.
So fuck running to Aedan and tattling like a scared child. Let Fenris hate him, Anders was used to it by now. He wasn’t going to run from the wardens and go back to life looking over his shoulder for templars. This was the best chance he’d ever had at true freedom and no one was going to take that from him.
Especially not a homicidal elf that Anders was more than a bit attracted to.
Sure, it was beyond ill-advised, but since when had that ever stopped him. Mixed with his rage and shame, Anders had battled the feelings that Fenris had engendered in him. Attraction to danger was one thing, trying for it was another.
He’d also be damned if he let the elf know that too.
**
Fenris was in a better mood once he’d gotten some sleep, a long bath and once he had eaten he’d find Aedan to speak more. That was of course if the mage hadn’t gone and told on him like a whelp.
He was surprised to find both human wardens in the dining hall, and was even more surprised when the mage didn’t run away in terror when he sat across from him with that malicious quirk of his lips meant for the blond.
“Morning, Aedan....mage.”
“Morning, elf,” Anders said around a spoonful of porridge. “Sleep well, did you?”
Aedan raised an eyebrow and glanced from one to the other. “Why do I get the feeling--” he began.
“That Fenris kept me up all night with his snoring?” Anders finished. “I barely got any sleep.”
“I don’t snore, besides your damned light kept me awake for some time, perhaps try sleeping in the dark like a normal person. It might help.” Fenris snarked right back then dug into his breakfast until the first plate was gone.
“Commander, if you wish to continue our conversation from yesterday I’d be happy to do so after breakfast.” the elf chewed on a piece of bacon while he gave the mage a dirty look.
“Light?” Aedan asked, shifting his body so he was facing Anders.
“I don’t like the darkness,” Anders replied casually. “I... They put me in solitary for a year. The templars that is. I don’t...” He took a deep breath. “I don’t like to feel closed off.”
“Ah... The Deep Roads...” Aedan chewed on his lower lip in thought. “They aren’t closed off in the way you would think, but there are passages--”
Anders held up his hand. “Stop. I get it. I’ll... get over it. I just can’t sleep in the darkness.”
Aedan gave him a small smile and nodded. “I don’t want you to push yourself. If you don’t think you can--”
“Nope!” Anders gave him a crooked grin. “I just can’t sleep in it or wake up to it. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Aedan scrutinized Anders, testing the mage’s resolve before nodding. “All right.” He stood up and scooped up his empty bowl. “Fenris, when you wish to talk more I’ll be in the study. Someone can point you the way. I’ve got papers to go through.” He visibly shuddered before he walked away.
“Sure Aedan, I’ll be along shortly.” Fenris muttered, the table was suddenly quite interesting to him. He’d fallen for the mage’s bait, had pushed him and turned their first night in a shared room into a debacle. Well he hadn’t done it entirely by himself but he’d thrown the first stone by teasing the mage about his need for light. Maybe if there was a Maker the mage would find somewhere else to be.
But if there was the Maker had never listened to Fenris before.
As soon as they were alone, Anders’ smile dropped from his face. “I’m not leaving, you know,” he said quietly. “I’m not leaving my bedchamber again, and I am not leaving the Grey Wardens. I’ll work with you, I’ll even heal you, but we will never be friends.”
Fenris was quiet as he spoke, unwilling to meet the mages eyes. “I did not wish for you to leave the room, nor do I want you to leave the Wardens. I merely wanted you to stop talking so I could sleep. If you had just said something about needing the light, I would not have been so harsh with you.”
He finally looked up, voice tight with restrained anger but a bit of sorrow despite his attempt to reign it in. “Had I known … look, I’ve never … I … fuck.” The Tevinter elf growled something under his breath in his native tongue before he tried again.
“Do not assume me to be so brutal as to wish you gone from here entirely. I know what it is to have no choice in life. Next time, say something and do not goad me, I have... I do not have control when I am provoked.”
Anders stared at Fenris in astonishment. “Did you just...” He cleared his throat. “I might have a small problem with letting my mouth run away from me. I... uh... Also was a bit out of line last night. It’s just... One of the few rebellions I had in the Circle, even before that, was pushing boundaries. I have a... tendency to do that when I’m... in uncertain circumstances or I...” Anders sighed. He’d never had to try to explain himself like this before.
“I know some men lash out with their fists. I’ve never had that luxury so I lash out with my words. It’s all I’ve ever really had or been allowed to have.”
Fenris stared at the mage, and wondered how he’d lived as long as he had. “I never had that luxury, and had I raised my hand to a magister as I did to you I would not made it through the night; or if I was still alive I’d be begging to die. Do not provoke me and we may survive this enforced rooming together yet.”
Anders shook his head. “See, that right there. ‘Do not provoke me, mage’. ‘Put out the light, mage’. ‘Shut up, mage’,” he said in a terribly mimicry of Fenris. “Maker, you have no idea how much that makes me want to goad you. And I’ve only lived this long because I refuse to die.” He gave Fenris a wry smile. “And because good healers can be hard to come by. The templars couldn’t risk killing me or making me Tranquil, but they could--” He stopped himself. “But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I’ll try to stop provoking you if you can try to do the same for me. Asking nicely would be a start.”
“No mage has ever asked me nicely for anything in my life, why should you get that courtesy?” He said, eyes narrowed, as he wondered what this man thought he had asked of him. Fenris, ask a mage nicely to do anything. “I am not a slave any longer and I will not beg anyone.”
“And I’m not in the Circle anymore. Maybe if you try asking if I would please snuff out the light, instead of demanding. I don’t like to be told what to do.” A slow, wicked smile spread over his lips. “Unless it’s for other reasons...”
“Don’t get any ideas mage. I’ve spent my whole life being ordered around by someone who owned me, I never got this courtesy you speak of, please and thank you. If you had any sense of self preservation, you would have stopped while you were ahead. You’ve seen what I can do, why taunt me?”
Fenris flexed his hand, the one that had been so deep in Anders chest he’d felt his ribcage as he held the other man’s life in his hand. “Have you so little self control that you cannot resist the urge to pick a fight, to harass someone who is now bound to you by the taint we carry?”
“As I said, sometimes when we have no control over our lives we do small things to give ourselves a sense of freedom. For me, it has always been the things I say. Granted, it’s not always well-advised, but years of being like this have made me... incautious. As much as I have always wanted to live and be free, I think there is a bit of self-destruction in doing--” Anders cut himself off. he hadn’t meant to admit that his hatred at times for himself and what he was made him reckless. It had started with his father and then had trickled down to the templars, the strange contrast of loving his power and embracing it, and hating what it had done to his life.
Fenris leaned back and looked over the mage, his gaze curious. “Considering I was never allowed anything to give me a sense of freedom, do go on. I am intrigued by this concept, as well as what stopped yourself from saying.”
Anders glanced away. “Tevinter is made out to be a wondrous place for mages. It’s a land where you don’t have to fear the templars taking you from everything you have ever loved. It’s a country that a mage can walk freely hand in hand with those they care about and never have to wonder if the templars will notice and part you. It’s where mothers can keep their children by their side, where mage parents won’t ever have to feel their baby ripped from their arms and sent off where they will never see their child again. You won’t have to worry about rape or torture. Your magic is something to be proud of instead of a sense of shame.
“I know that it’s not truly like this. I’m not a complete fool. But every moment of my life I’ve been told I wasn’t good enough, or I was wrong in the eyes of the Maker. The templars... they are stronger than us. with a thought they can silence the one weapon we have. So what was I ever left with besides tales of Tevinter? I could drive them mad by spinning words. If they pushed me, I pushed back. There were times when I... when I wanted them to... But not all the time and only in my darker moments.”
Fenris tried to hold in the derisive bark of laughter, he actually tried but had to give up as he almost toppled off the bench after Anders had finished talking. After a while he wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at the blond warden with an air of seriousness that seemed to appear from nowhere.
“You are an utter fool if you think Tevinter is some fantasy land where mages are all loved, and wanted, and cherished. It is a pit of depravity, blood magic, demons, worse political battles than the Anderfels, Ferelden and the Free Marches combined. No one is walking around hand in hand, openly in love, Maker who told you such idiotic drivel. No wonder there were so many collared and enslaved mages in Minrathous.”
The elf sobered up even more before he glared at the mage in front of him, he wanted to make sure that Anders harbored no more childish illusions about his homeland. “Be mad at me for shattering your illusions...Anders; but Tevinter is no more a mages paradise than the Dales of old are for City Elves. You would be enslaved within hours if not days. Especially a Spirit Healer; because blood magic and healing don’t mix. Get any of those stories out of your head, you’ll be better off for it. The reality of Tevinter is dark, cold, bloody and the sooner you realize it the happier you’ll be.”
Fenris settled in his seat, all traces of his earlier mirth gone just as quickly as it had appeared.
“Who told me?” Anders said when Fenris was done. “Mages over the years. Stories get told and retold until no one knows the truth anymore. We are taught Tevinter is a place the Maker has shunned, but we are also taught that we are cursed by him, so what are we to believe?” He finally looked at the elf with a grin. “I would make a terrible slave. I’d been dead within the day and we both know it.”
The smile fell away. “Would you... Would you tell me of Tevinter? Tell me the truth?”
“I just did, weren’t you listening to me?” Fenris didn’t look amused in the least, and he felt a headache coming on from talking to someone who clearly couldn’t be arsed to listen to a word he said.
Anders poked at his cold porridge. “Do you hate all mages so much then?” It hadn’t bothered him when he had woken up this morning, but after baring a part of his secret self to Fenris, Anders found he did not want his hate just because of what he was and what he represented. He was tired, so tired of being reviled for what he had been born to do.
In answer Fenris let his markings flare brightly in the late morning sun. “I have no reason to like mages now do I?” He stared at Anders, a dare on his lips for the other man to find one reason for him to actually like a mage after a life of slavery, being owned, a thing by the very ones Anders would throw his lot in with in a heartbeat.
Anders looked at Fenris in the eyes. “I would never, ever, harm anyone like that. What was done to you was... disgusting on so many levels. But do not paint me with the same brush. I don’t...” In that moment Anders gave up. He pushed the bowl away from him, sending it skidding across the table.
“I am not a Maker cursed man. I don’t sacrifice babies to demons, or... or... put lyrium into the skin of elven slaves. My name is Anders and I like cats, good drink, women and men, and the freedom to throw lightning at fools. I have worth and value beyond what the Chantry tells me I have, the same as you. You have no reason to trust mages, but I have done nothing to you, but flirt a little and make an ass out of myself.”
“You have consistently disregarded any request to leave me be, not call me names and you provoke me despite proof I can kill you before you could draw your staff. That’s doing plenty to me, especially a revolting nickname such as FenFen.” the elf said the pet name with such revulsion he was surprised he didn’t gag on the word.
“You want me to show courtesy to you when you have shown me none, you want to take freely of my limited goodwill and expect me to behave as you demand. You are right, you’re no magister, they’d have you collared in no time at all and eating out of your masters hand in a week.”
Fenris rose from the table and strapped his sword back on before he turned to go. He was done with the mage and this stupid conversation.
“I’m sorry,” Anders whispered. Guilt clawed at him. “I will try and stop, but you could have killed me last night. Don’t touch me like that again and you’ll have my word I will try and not goad you.” Underlining the guilt was that sense of weakness that he hated. Fenris wouldn’t see him as anything other than the fool he had called him.
“Don’t give me a reason to touch you like that again and I won’t. Had you shut your mouth, and not called me some appalling mangling of my name I would have let it go. You are lucky Anders, very lucky I did not rip your heart from you when you called me that other word. I have a short fuse and it doesn’t take much to light it, remember that and we will learn to tolerate each other.”
Fenris left his unwilling roommate at the table, his desire to speak with Aedan had diminished but he had no idea where else to go at the moment, so instead he took a long walk around the grounds until he needed to rest.
**
“I can’t do it,” Anders finally burst out. he paced the length of the study he had found Aedan in, walking from one end lined with bookshelves to the other where Aedan kept his gleaming armor on display.
Aedan tracked his movements from his seat behind a large desk that was piled high with parchment needing his attention.
“What happened?” Aedan asked in resignation, tossing his quill onto the desk. “Tell me the truth. If this is going to work--”
“It’s not,” Anders snapped. “That elf is an egotistical asshole.”
Aedan pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “And why is that?”
“Because I bared my soul to him and he laughed at me before calling me a fool! He thinks that just because he’s stronger than me and can snap me like Orlesian crystal that he can just say whatever he wants to me and I’ll bow my head like a good little mage, and thank him for sparing my fucking life. I won’t do it! I had to do that enough with my fucking father and the damned Circle. I refuse to do that here.”
“Anders, calm down,” Aedan said quietly.
Anders ignored him. “He thinks I’m shit. Well fuck him. I don’t care what he thinks. He can take his pretty ass and go to the Void for all I care.”
“Anders--”
“He should know what it’s like to feel weak and helpless, yet he insists on doing it to me. What is wrong with him? I know,” Anders snapped his fingers, “he hates all mages because of what was done to him. Well join the club, I can’t stand the fucking templars. I understand it, I get it and if he would just get that through his stubborn skull, he would see how much alike we really are. But no! He’s just a jackass with a--”
“Anders!” Aedan shot to his feet and slammed a fist on his desk, knocking papers over to the floor. “Calm down! Fenris has had a hard life, just as you have. If you want him to see how alike you both are, then you need to act like it. All you’re showing him is that he’s right.
“I don't know what happened and something tells me I won’t like it, but I do know that you’re afraid of him and are lashing out because of it. You want to join a club? Well how about the one where you learn there is always going to be something or someone bigger and badder than you and you have to deal with feeling helpless because of it? Now you need to realize that you need space as much as he does and be the one to begin a compromise, because I don’t think Fenris will be the person to do it first.
“The Grey Wardens are not the Circle and he is not a templar. He won’t hurt you and you have recourse if he does. You are not helpless or weak here.”
Anders sucked in a shocked breath. “I just...”
“You can’t believe that the templars can’t touch you so you’re looking for a reason to run. I... I knew someone once who I cared for a great deal that was all about running from things. It took him a long time to understand that he had worth and he had friends.” Aedan slowly sank back down in his chair.
“Where is he now?” Anders asked.
“Antiva,” Aedan replied. “He decided to stop running.”
**
Fenris had taken a short rest before he decided that he’d try to speak with Aedan, maybe even tell him that the mage had gotten on his nerves in less than twenty-four hours. After a couple of wrong turns, he found the study and knocked.
“Come in,” Aedan barked.
Fenris opened the door and stopped when he saw that Anders was there and he looked fit to be tied or about to explode in anger.
“I didn’t realize you were occupied, Commander, I will return later, forgive the intrusion.” He slipped into old habits, his gaze on the floor, voice gone softer than usual and his hand already on the handle so he could leave. Whatever conversation they were having, he wanted none of it.
“Come in, Fenris, we were just talking about you,” Aedan said while Anders groaned.
“Also, there’s no need to...” Aedan blew out a breath. “I’m your commander, not your... I’m not a fucking magister, damn it.”
Fenris’ gaze flicked up to the human warden, something hard and unforgiving there as he looked at Aedan, tried to find words for what rested in his mouth but nothing came to him in Trade. Instead he let the door shut too heavily, the clang of the latch loud in the room.
The elf dropped his eyes, his stance remained tense as he fought the urge to lash out at the man in front of him. Cousland might be bigger but he had unnatural strength on his side. “I don’t … want. I would like to return and speak to you later commander Cousland, privately.”’ Fenris bit out, his anger tangible in the way his brands flickered, showing even under the armor.
Aedan had begun to grin when Fenris slammed the door and it became downright feral at his tone and the way his brands flashed. “Much better. Get angry with me, laugh with me, whatever, but for the love of Andraste, don’t ever come to me like that again.”
He sat back in his chair and steepled his finger together. “I think the three of us need to have a little chat.”
Anders covered his face with his hands. “‘Join the wardens,’ he said. ‘Much better than the Circle’,” he mumbled.
“Cheer up, Anders,” Aedan said with a wink the mage couldn’t see. “All of this needs to get out now before you kill each other in the Deep Roads. Besides,” the smile dropped off, “there’s a few things the two of you should know about being a warden. Oghren has already known about this for almost a year now, so you are the lucky two that get to hear it.”
Fenris folded his arms and leaned against the mantle in Aedan’s study. He was furious but his training, all that damned training to obey his superiors kept him from attacking the other man. His jaw was clenched as he awaited whatever their leader had to say.
Aedan gave Fenris an all too perceptive look before he began to explain just what the Joining meant for their lives. “So... Do you want the bad new or the not so bad news first?”
“Oh, please,” Anders murmured, “the bad news first.”
“You are only immune to the taint now because you have it. I don’t know what the combination of magic and darkspawn blood does, but it has given the taint to you. You will become a ghoul. Not now, nor tomorrow, but sometime in twenty to thirty years. You’ll know when it happens. The taint connects us to the darkspawn, it allows us to feel them as they feel each other when they are near. It also... During a Blight you will have nightmares, you will hear the calling of the Archdemon as it gathers darkspawn to it. When your time comes, the calling will become an overwhelming urge to go and find an Archdemon, to go to the Deep Roads and fig deep with the other darkspawn. You will lose yourself.
“We... The Grey Wardens speak of the urge as the Calling for obvious reasons. When your time has come, you will be sent into the Deep Roads to kill as many darkspawn as you can before you are slain by them, to delve further than anyone else has before.”
Anders stared horrified at Aedan. “Is that all?”
“No,” Aedan replied sadly. “There is also the matter of why we are unique in being able to kill an Archdemon and why we are needed.”
“Just tell us already and stop drawing this out, Aedan.” Fenris snapped before he realized what he’d done and folded in on himself again, gaze well away from the senior warden. He just wanted to be free, and now he was beholden to some taint that would kill him or make him seek his end in the deep in just a short time. Thirty years was really nothing to an elf, but for him it was a clock ticking slowly towards his demise.
Aedan laughed quietly at Fenris’ show of anger. “You know, we should spar some time soon,” Aedan told him. He sighed and continued on.
“When an Archdemon dies it goes into the nearest creature with the taint. It cannot be killed by someone unless they share that taint. Whichever Grey Warden strikes the death blow will be killled, their body unable to handle it and destroying the Archdemon in the process. We are needed not just to traverse the Deep Roads, but because there is no one else to end the Blights.”
Anders slowly lowered his hands. “Then how are you still alive?”
He saw it then, the way that Aedan glanced away for the barest moment. “Because I was very lucky in knowing a woman that understood the ways of the world much better than anyone else I’ve ever known. She gave me a way to kill the Archdemon and to live. I did it for...” Aedan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. But the circumstances will never happen again.”
The elf simply glared at the senior warden before he asked the obvious question. “So you made a deal with a demon, or something even worse to keep living? Is it not your duty to sacrifice? Is that not the oath you made me swear upon my honor? In Death, Sacrifice? Did that mean nothing?”
“It meant everything,” Aedan said. “It still does. I have to live with the pact I made with a witch of the wilds. But I did it because someone I love asked it of me--begged it of me. I can’t... I can’t regret that. We are called Grey Wardens because we walk in the grey areas of life. We see and do things that are thought of as legend, things the Chantry would have us all destroyed for if they knew. Make no mistake, Fenris, it was not a decision easily made nor one done just to save my own skin.”
“I see...regardless, I do not like the idea of following someone who made some kind of perverse deal to defeat what has always been for those of this order.” He threw up his hands, he was angry and had wanted to have a quiet conversation with Aedan, not have all of this dropped on his head.
“How often have you had to... Deal with blood magic and demons,” Anders finally asked. His skin was crawling just thinking about it. “I can’t... I refuse to...”
Aedan groaned. “I went into the Fade once and killed a demon that was possessing a little boy. I cleared out the Circle Tower of demons when it fell and saved what mages and templars I could. I’ve been offered temptation after temptation by blood mages and demons alike, all of them dead before they could finish speaking. Don’t mistake what I did to kill the Archdemon for a lust of power and dark things. That very lust was why the Wardens of Ferelden had been banished in the first place so many years ago. They meddled where they shouldn’t have and used dark magic to protect themselves when they had been found out. I won’t be repeating that mistake. It cost us too many lives during the last Blight.”
He exhaled slowly. “You will be able to sense darkspawn as they get closer and the longer you are a warden, the easier it will be. You will be hungry, for food and other things, but that will pass a bit when the Joining has settled. You will have greater stamina, and you will not be able to bear children unless with some difficulty with someone who is not a Grey Warden.”
His eyes met Fenris’. “I have given you no reason to trust me. But I believe that actions speak louder than words. I’ll show you that I am worthy of your trust and your sword arm. will you give me that chance?”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice. I can’t leave, I can’t go anywhere without being hounded by slavers so I’m stuck. I’ll give you a chance but know it will not be easy to gain my trust, Cousland.”
“If it wasn’t easy it wouldn’t be worthwhile,” Aedan replied.