Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Danarius’s return had caught Fenris by surprise. He had spent so long waiting for his former master to return, that having it happen had caught Fenris slightly off guard. It didn’t help that he was tired. A long trip to the coast with Hawke, and then a late evening with Hawke, Anders, and Varric at the Hanged Man, and Fenris’s grip on his sword was light as he returned to the mansion he called home. He pushed the door open, not noticing the fresh footprints in the dust with the dim light. He thought he smelled the faintest burnt smell of magic as he entered. He paused, sniffing his shoulder. He had been sitting next to Anders after all, and the mage had put a friendly arm on him several times over the course of the evening. Fenris wrinkled his nose and thought nothing else of it, for the next few seconds.

He kicked the door shut behind him and was about to remove his gauntlets when he heard the single footstep from a dark corner. His hand went for his sword, but before he could swing it, the blood magic spell had hit him. Danarius’s paralysis spell only partially worked on him, but when Danarius followed up with an electricity spell channeled directly into his lyrium markings, Fenris collapsed, unable to keep his feet when his body began to convulse. He clung to his sword, but it did no good when he was a shivering mess on the floor.

He cursed, trying to activate the markings and push himself to his feet. Danarius couldn’t take him so easily! Not without a fight! The markings flickered and Fenris saw his master’s boots illuminated in the glow from his own body. He snarled and dragged his sword, trying to spin it at Danarius’s leg. The magister easily moved aside to avoid it. He stepped a foot onto the flat side of the broad blade, slamming Fenris’s hand to the ground as he pushed it down.

“What was that, little wolf?” Danarius asked, reaching to put a hand in Fenris’s hair.

Fenris trembled with rage, lighting his markings again and attempting to swipe at his master’s chest with his other hand. Danarius simply pushed his hand away, tightening his fist in Fenris’s hair and hauling him up on his knees, forcing him to let go of his sword.

Fenris felt Danarius pull directly from his markings as the magister summoned a powerful spell. The spell hit him, and his mind went blank. It took some time before he was coherent again, and by then he was in the master bedroom with the magister. His clothes were gone, as were his memories of the freedom he had fought so hard for. Danarius looked down at him lovingly.

Fenris pressed up into his former master’s hand. Something in the back of his mind told him to stop, but there was no stopping the need in his aching body. He was oversensitive, each touch to his skin burning with heat and making him tremble. He didn’t look, but didn’t need to in order to feel the tight press of the cock ring that Danarius had always favored previously. It prevented Fenris from feeling pleasure, and he had a dim notion that it affected him in other ways as well, judging by the heat that flared from his gut.

“My poor little wolf,” Danarius crooned, doing nothing to ease Fenris’s need. He reveled in it, seeing his pet falling apart like this for him. It had taken a very powerful mind-control spell, but it would do for now. Later, he would chain up his wolf and take him home to Tevinter for proper retraining. But for now, this delighted him. “You’ve been so lost without me,” Danarius said. “How you must have been suffering.”

“Please,” Fenris whined, the part of him that still reacted without thought knowing that his odds of being rewarded for begging were good. Danarius would be pleased at having recaptured his prized slave.

“So eager, Fenris,” Danarius said, smiling. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Please,” Fenris repeated, pleading with all he had in him. Danarius thumbed at the ring on his cock, smiling as he leaned to press a demanding kiss to Fenris’s lips. Danarius had in the past tormented him with the ring—trying to please himself would activate the runes on the ring and turn the pleasure into an acute pain. Fenris thrust his hips up, begging his master to move his hand lower. Not only would it fill the need in Fenris, but it would be over sooner. And that...that would give him some additional relief.

Danarius obliged, his cold fingers sliding down to pry roughly for Fenris’s hole.

Fenris spread his legs wider, anything to hurry the process.

“Would you like to see one of my new tricks?” Danarius asked, grinning. Fenris shivered, but nodded. He had no choice.

Danarius whispered something, and rubbed at one of the several chains around his neck, thumbing the talisman at the end of it. The room darkened for a moment, and Fenris froze as a desire demon materialized.

“You called?” The desire demon looked at Fenris with honey-gold eyes and a strong nose that had Fenris suddenly thinking of Anders. Even Danarius’s mind-control spell couldn’t keep Fenris from remembering, when the demon’s face bore such a strong similarity to the passionate mage. Remembering that this was a demon and was playing on his desires, Fenris ripped his eyes away, looking fearfully at his master. His master would protect him.

“This one serves me,” Danarius said. “And my pleasure.”

The demon licked its lips and walked around to stand behind Fenris, beside the bed. Danarius pushed Fenris down onto his back. He looked up and saw the demon looking down at him, but didn’t dare move. It leaned down and claimed his lips. He went along as best he could, though he struggled to keep up with the thirsty demon. The demon’s tongue flicked into his mouth and Fenris arched up into it. He felt Danarius move, removing his robes as he watched.

“No need to be gentle,” he murmured. The demon reached for Fenris’s arms, pinning them on either side of his head. It continued to kiss him, its movements rough and heated. It bit at Fenris’s lip.

“Don’t be shy,” Danarius prompted. His hands brushed Fenris’s thighs, and he obeyed, opening his legs as he let the demon have its way with his mouth. The position was uncomfortable and difficult, but that didn’t seem to make much difference to the demon. It stood up and adjusted itself so that it could hang its dick over Fenris’s face, rubbing the skin against his nose and cheeks. Fenris turned his face up and opened his mouth, offering his tongue. The demon eagerly began to rub against his tongue, dragging his length slowly back and forth as Fenris did his best to lick as much of it as he could.

Danarius seemed to have an idea.

“Stop,” he ordered, and grabbed Fenris’s ankle, tugging at him. He moved backwards, and Fenris hurried to follow him, squirming after him as best he could. The demon hardly needed any direction. It slid onto the bed as easily as a snake, sinuous and threatening.

Fenris could only wait as Danarius settled himself, and then motioned to the demon. It seemed to be able to read his master’s mind, needing no direction. It moved forward until it was kneeling over Fenris’s head, and then it lowered its hips, thrusting the tip of its penis against Fenris’s lips. He opened obediently, shuddering at the acrid taste of blood and magic on the thing’s skin. It grabbed at his wrists again and pulled them up and around its waist, finally placing them against the taut muscles of its ass. Fenris obeyed, his hands splayed across the deep purple-red skin. His fingers moved cautiously, exploring the smooth shape. He ran a finger up the center crack. The demon thrust down hard and Fenris gagged. His eyes were squeezed closed. He felt as though he could hardly breathe. The demon lay down on top of him, still holding itself up with its arms. And then Fenris felt the heat of its tongue on his navel.

Danarius chuckled and his hands were again on Fenris’s thighs.

“Oh, you are so beautiful,” he said. Fenris choked again as Danarius was suddenly pressing against him, pushing into him. It hurt . It had been so long, he’d nearly forgotten how it felt.

But now that Danarius had started, the rest of the ordeal wouldn’t last so long. Fenris’s master was blessedly quick to find pleasure, though he did his best to draw it out. He tugged at Fenris’s cock, sending needles of pain into him. He tensed and writhed as best he could, squeezing tight around his master’s dick. Danarius groaned in pleasure, reveling in the white heat. The desire demon nipped at Fenris’s hip bones, sharp teeth tugging at his skin.

The desire demon thrust against his face, coming down his throat, just as Danarius also reached his climax. Fenris clutched at the demon’s ass, desperate to hold onto anything as his body rode his master’s orgasm. Then suddenly the demon was gone and Fenris was clutching his hands into fists in the air and choking on the sour taste of blood in his mouth.

“There’s a good wolf,” Danarius crooned, pulling out of him and rubbing a thumb over his sore entrance. “This spell is a bit much to maintain, so I need you to chain yourself up again, hm?”

Fenris shivered and climbed from the bed, barely holding back the bile in his throat. Whatever the demon had spilled into him was not agreeing with his body. He crawled to the corner and picked up the shackles there, clasping them one by one around his own wrists. The runes lit momentarily as they snapped into place. As soon as they were secure, Danarius lifted the spell on him and Fenris had control over his body and thoughts again. All the memories of his freedom flooded back and he pulled angrily against the shackles, growling.

The fight in him died quickly, as the adrenaline from the spell left him feeling suddenly weak. His body convulsed and he collapsed, retching on the floor. He trembled, looking in horror at the bloody liquid that pooled beneath him. He found he couldn’t activate his lyrium while he was chained up like this. He tugged at the shackles, but the chains were reinforced and well attached to the wall. No amount of pulling or kicking would free them. It was futile to try and it would be better to save his strength.

He slept there in the corner that night. Danarius slept in another room, since Fenris had so rebelliously destroyed the ceiling in this one. Knowing that escape was beyond his ability, Fenris found himself thinking of his companions. Any one of them would have immediately jumped to help him fight off his former master, and a part of him wished desperately for his friends to help him now, before Danarius could arrange his transportation back to Tevinter. At the same time, he shivered to think of any of them seeing him like this, chained up like a dog and sprawled naked on the floor, his own filth and vomit spilled on the floor next to him. He had sometimes thought he wouldn’t need his companion’s help to destroy his former master, but it seemed he had been wrong. Danarius was not one to waste time—it would likely only be a matter of days before he had Fenris on a ship and away from Kirkwall.

Fenris was woken from his restless sleep by his former master’s footsteps.

“Sleep well, little wolf?”

He was about to spit an angry reply, but he felt the touch to the crown of his head. The threat of punishment should he fight back lanced through him, so deeply rooted from his memories that it kept him from speaking and he bit back the words. Danarius read his anger in his eyes and chuckled.

“Very good,” he said. “Already learning to bite your tongue again.”

This was enough to bait Fenris into speaking.

“I will not submit to you,” he said darkly. “I will be free.”

In an instant, Danarius’s hand was on his throat, sharp fingers digging into his windpipe.

“You’ll find I’m not of a temper to be lenient,” Danarius said. He let go, letting Fenris collapse again. “I have always been generous to you, and you have repaid me with ungratefulness. I was hesitant to blemish such an impressive specimen this way, but it is exceptionally useful for rebellious slaves, and I think it will look nicely on you.”

Fenris didn’t look up as Danarius knelt over him.

He shrieked at a sudden searing pain in his ear.

“I wouldn’t move,” Danarius said coldly, and Fenris obeyed. He couldn’t think past the pain . Then it came again , this time nearer to the tip of his ear. Tears sprang from his eyes and he trembled, huddled on the floor. Danarius was putting something in his ear, but Fenris had no way to know what. The side of his head throbbed with pain.

“Elf ears are sensitive, are they not?” Danarius said. Fenris yelped as Danarius tugged at the delicate chain that now hung from his ear. Blind with pain, Fenris followed the movement. Anything to keep that pain from happening again.

“There we go,” Danarius said, smiling at him. Fenris sat up. He hardly dared to move now.

Danarius reached for his hands. He pulled from his robe two metal cuffs, similar to the ones Fenris was shackled with. Only they were chained together, and not to the wall.

One after the other, Danarius removed the shackles and replaced them with the cuffs.

“It does look beautiful on you, little wolf,” Danarius said. “I think I shall find this rather useful.”

“I am about to go eat breakfast,” Danarius said. “I should like my little cockwarmer to join me.”

Fenris balked, but Danarius reached for his ear and he quickly got to his feet.

“Come along now,” Danarius said. He had to follow, knowing what would happen if he did not.

The empty rooms of the mansion, now so familiar, had grown suddenly sinister. Fenris stopped once he entered the kitchen, looking around in surprise. He had left the kitchen empty, but there was food set out on the table, and an elf girl stood at the stove. Danarius took a seat, pointing under the table.

Fenris moved as if in a daze, the familiar motions and the weight of years of humiliation returning to him in seconds. His best chance of survival was to obey and wait for a chance to escape. He was a slave once more, but he still had his mind, even as he crawled beneath the table, wincing at each swing of the chain that hung from his ear. Despite its light weight, the pressure on his ear was still an excruciating pain. Fenris felt the hot drip of blood onto his shoulder. He knelt in his place and waited while the magister hiked up his robes. His cock was limp where it rested against his thigh.

Fenris leaned in, tongue reaching out to help guide the tip into his mouth. He shuddered as his ear bumped against Danarius’s leg. The pain was momentarily blinding. But as he leaned in, taking his master’s cock to the hilt in his mouth, he was able to situate himself just so that the ear didn’t touch. So it was a throbbing pain, not a stabbing one.

Danarius reached a hand down and ran rough fingers through his hair. It didn’t give Fenris pleasure as it used to. He was no longer a willing slave, but did what he must to survive.

Danarius took him to his bedroom after that, the one Fenris had been sleeping in, with the gaping hole in the ceiling, and used a padlock to secure Fenris’s manacles to the headboard of the bed.

“You’ve done so well today, little wolf,” he said. “I think I may reward you shortly. Wait here.” As if he had a choice.

Fenris stayed as still as possible, sitting and looking at the headboard. Moving while in pain like this was difficult. It muddied his brain. He would have to fight through it in order to escape. It wouldn’t be easy, but he needed to be alert, waiting for the chance to come.

The slave girl came in with a plate of food, setting it on the table beside the bed. It was out of his reach, but Fenris felt that possibly his master would let him have some, when he returned.

A short while later, Fenris was startled to hear raised voices from the main hall. And then he felt the distant tug of magic. Had Hawke come for him? Was someone fighting Danarius? He ignored the pain in his ear and pulled at the chain on his wrists, trying to break it free of the headboard. It held firm. He heard the slam of magic against the walls, and angry shouting. And then silence. He waited, hopeful.

Danarius appeared, flushed and out of breath. Fenris couldn’t hide the disappointment he felt. Was Hawke… no, he couldn’t possibly be.

Danarius removed the padlock.

“Turn around,” he ordered. Fenris obeyed. Danarius was angry, and Fenris knew well enough his short temper. His survival depended on appeasing Danarius as often as he possibly could.

He removed a single manacle and threaded it through the heavy woodwork of the headboard before securing it to Fenris’s wrist again, leaving Fenris with his hands secured awkwardly behind him. Fenris squeezed his eyes shut. Danarius was upset and would want to take it out on him. It was no surprise that Danarius would punish Fenris without reason; it was not a slave’s business to know why the master was angry, only to accept the resulting abuse without complaint. Fenris braced himself for Danarius to use a spell on him, but instead heard the magister’s footsteps retreating. Fenris was confused; why would the magister leave him alone?

Cautiously opening his eyes, Fenris took shallow breaths, trying not to imagine Hawke dying in the main hall, bleeding out on the floor. He clenched his fists. These magical cuffs repressed his phasing ability, and Danarius was very good at never giving him a chance to escape.

Footsteps approached, and Fenris’s eyes widened when Danarius strode in, leading Anders by the arm. The mage’s face was pale and splotchy, and blood ran from his nose and a cut on his ear. Anders stumbled over his own feet—he hardly seemed to see anything. He hadn’t even noticed Fenris.

“This a friend of yours?” Danarius asked Fenris, looking at the now horrified elf huddled against the headboard. Freedom had weakened Fenris’ ability to hide his emotions, and his panic was easily evident. Danarius smiled smugly and flung Anders forward so that he stumbled and fell against the bed.

“What’s that?” Anders mumbled, trying to stand up again.

“Not you.” Danarius shoved him back down, one firm hand on the back of his head.

“No, what was that?” Anders insisted. “That spell you hit me with? And where the fuck is Fenris? I know you have him, you bastard!” He scowled at the mattress and squirmed weakly in the magister’s grip. His arms tried to push himself up, but after the blood magic spell Danarius had likely used on him, they crumpled uselessly.

Danarius didn’t bother replying. He held Anders down and yanked at the knapsack on his back, opening it to dig through it.

“All these herbs,” Danarius scoffed. “A healer, are you?”

“Only the best this side of Thedas,” Anders said. Still snarky, even when outmatched by a magister. Fenris felt the urge to tell the mage to shut up. He was going to get himself in worse trouble than he was already in. Danarius simply ignored him.

“Oh, magebane?” He pulled out a soupy potion with a dark greenish-yellow color. “How cheeky, to be carrying this around.”

“Magebane is good for poisoned wounds,” Anders grumbled, his voice muffled by the sheets. Fenris could still hear the trepidation in the mage’s voice.

“And for taming rebellious mages,” Danarius said. He grabbed a fistful of Anders’ hair and pulled his head back, reaching around to empty the potion into the mage’s mouth, though in his hurry he slammed the edge of the potion against Anders’ teeth, chipping the glass rim. Anders was too surprised to react initially. His jaw was still slack as Danarius shoved the opening of the potion into his mouth. The chipped glass sliced Anders’ lip, fresh blood building quickly in the cut.

When Anders tasted the first of the magebane, his eyes went wide, and he tried to pull away. Danarius was quick to make sure Anders drank, and dumped the potion into Anders’ mouth. Tossing the bottle to the side, Danarius clamped a firm hand on Anders’ jaw, holding it shut, using his other hand now to pinch his nose. Anders struggled weakly until he was forced to swallow the potion. Danarius let go, wiping the blood on his fingers from holding the mage's nose on the back of Anders’ coat.

“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

“You sick—”

Anders stopped and gagged, trying not to vomit as he felt the suddenly empty pit in his core where his magic should be. He sagged, sliding down until his knees hit the floor beside the bed.

Anders’ face dropped to the bedding and he choked on something that sounded dangerously similar to a sob.

“On the bed, mage,” Danarius ordered. Anders didn’t hear him, or blatantly ignored him. Danarius frowned, and Fenris pressed himself back against the headboard. He knew that expression on the magister’s face, and it was not a good sign—Danarius was furious. Not only was he tired and angry from being attacked by another mage, but Anders had the gall to talk back to him, and to ignore him—the worst offense.

Danarious grabbed a fistful of that beautiful hair and hauled Anders to his feet. Anders was taller than the magister, but weak as he now was, still shaky from whatever spell Danarius had used to defeat him, he looked much smaller. Blood was still running from his nose, and now was smeared on his lip as well. He glared at the magister, refusing to submit.

Danarius raised his other hand and seized Anders’ throat, squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes and sneered at the other mage.

“You are entirely under my power now. You may want to make this easier on yourself and do as I tell you. You will find that I am not forgiving.”

Anders choked, unable to speak. He tried to grab at Danarius’s arm, but the magister held tight. He stepped towards the bed. The backs of Anders’ legs hit the bed and they began to slip from under him. He tried to gasp for air as Danarius’s grip became all that was holding him up. Danarius shoved him and Anders fell on his back onto the bed. He fumbled for his belt, hands slipping under his coat. Fenris knew Anders, and knew that even without magic, the mage was not helpless, though he feared that anything Anders might try would still be futile.

Danarius was quick to react, his hand darting beneath Anders’ coat and pulling out a knife before Anders could locate it.

“What’s this?” He asked, grinning and holding it up. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were so interested in seeing your own blood. Perhaps we’ll play with this once you’re undressed.”

Anders pushed himself up again, though he was still short of breath.

“I’m not undressing for you, you—”

Danarius pressed the knife to his throat, pushing the point against his skin until Anders collapsed back.

“I didn’t tell you to undress yourself , did I?”

Anders sputtered, but with the knife to his throat, further protests seemed to dissolve in his throat. He stared up at the magister. Fenris could see the mage thinking, trying to come up with some means of escape. He was weakened from the blood magic spell, robbed of his magic for at least the next six hours, and weaponless. He had not yet noticed Fenris, huddled motionless at the head of the bed, so he thought himself alone with the sick magister. Fenris didn’t dare make a sound. Danarius wanted him to watch, not to speak, and drawing Anders’ attention would do nothing to help him in this situation. 

Danarius pulled back from the mage, withdrawing from the bed.

“I’d stay still if I were you,” he warned, when Anders started to move. Anders stopped, watching the magister warily. Danarius dug into a chest, and finally smiled, straightening. He held a collar that had two manacles attached to it.

“You untrained southern mages need a tight leash,” Danarius said, climbing back onto the bed. Anders tried to protest, but with Danarius holding the knife to his throat, resistance was pointless. Danarius slipped the leather collar around his neck, digging the point of the knife in just under Anders’ chin.

“Now, are you going to take that coat off, or do you want me to cut it off of you?” Danarius asked. Anders grit his teeth and fumbled with the buckles of his coat. Danarius knelt over him, relaxing the knife so Anders could wriggle his arms out of the sleeves. As soon as he had finished, though, Danarius was reaching for him again.

One after the other, he pulled Anders’ wrists up and clamped them into the metal cuffs, leaving Anders with his hands balled into fists behind his neck. Danarius pulled Anders' coat away, tossing it to the floor, and sat back, running the knife lightly down Anders’ neck.

“Much better,” he crooned. He set the knife aside and got to work on the laces of Anders’ trousers. Anders couldn’t bear to watch, he tipped his head back, eyes rolling up towards the head of the bed where he finally saw Fenris, who was watching with an expression that Anders could easily read for once. He was afraid, and concerned. And naked. Anders had never seen the elf fully naked before, and he looked small. All that muscle, deadly power, and intelligence, reduced to a magister’s plaything. Anders’ lips parted as he sucked in a breath, trying to steady his thoughts. Fenris had been here the whole time, not saying a word.

“Fen—”

Danarius pressed the knife to Anders’ belly as soon as he spoke, digging it in just enough to break the skin.

“My slaves don’t speak unless asked,” Danarius said when Anders looked down at him. Anders frowned. Fenris silently pleaded for him to stay quiet. When his master had a knife in hand, it was always better to do as he asked.

Anders didn’t know this.

“I’m not a slave, am I?” He asked, then grunted as Danarius dragged the knife across his skin, scoring a red line across the sliver of skin that showed between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his trousers.

“It may be a good idea to think of yourself as one for the time being, hm?” Danarius said. He laid the knife down on Anders’ chest, then grabbed his trousers and pulled them down. Anders swallowed as cold air met his cock. Danarius hadn’t even bothered with his boots, just left the trousers bunched up around his calves.

Danarius took the knife again, leaning in to look closer at Anders’ now exposed privates. He leaned one hand on Anders’ knee, opening his legs.

“We don’t often have hair this color in Tevinter,” Danarius said, using the tip of the knife to run it through the rough hair that grew below Anders’ waistline. The knife tip ran down past the base of his penis to the tender skin behind it. “Quite attractive. A shapely penis, and a healthy color to the skin.” He dropped the knife and thumbed at Anders’ entrance. “Tight as well.” Anders flinched, his legs quivering at the unwelcome probing.

“I would like to see how well my little wolf could take your cock,” Danarius mused, sitting up again. “Perhaps another time, though. He’s rather wild still. One of you will need to be tamed before we can attempt such things.” He chuckled. “I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Danarius set to unbuckling the front of his robes, letting them fall open, but without dropping them completely. With a mage, he wished to keep them on, to remind Anders who was the dominant mage.

Danarius grabbed Anders’ arm and flipped him over onto his stomach. Using Anders’ knife, he cut through his shirt, tearing it where he was too impatient to cut through, and tossed it aside.

“That was a good shirt,” Anders grumbled, trying to prop his elbows up so his face wasn’t completely smothered in the sheets. The mage was scared, and Fenris so badly wished that Anders didn’t have a habit of running his mouth when he was afraid. His bluffs of confidence would not help him against Danarius.

“You won’t need your shirt anymore,” Danarius said, moving back to his lower body. He pushed Anders’ hips up, and pulled at his knees so that Anders drew them up underneath himself.

Danarius pressed the flat side of the knife to Anders’ ass cheek, smirking as Anders trembled. 

Anders comprehended, even in his muddy state of mind, that no blame could be put on Fenris for what was happening. And it was definitely happening. Now that Anders was properly subdued, Danarius ran his hand over him again, this time over the curve of his ass and his thighs. Anders trembled. It had been so long, he’d never thought to be in this position again. His eyes filled with fear.

“No,” Anders whispered as Danarius pressed an experimental finger at his entrance.

Danarius smirked. Anders couldn’t see it, but Fenris could. And Fenris had no choice but to watch.

“You’re a decent mage,” Danarius said, shuffling closer to Anders and throwing his robe back, though still keeping it over his shoulders. Anders whimpered.

“You southern mages are still weaker,” Danarius said. “Something to do with your Circles, hm? They’re horribly inefficient, aren’t they?” He leaned over Anders, whispering in his ear. Fenris shuddered, a stab of pain going through him as the chain in his ear swung, pulling at the tender skin.

Anders dropped his face to the bed.

“Oh, no need to give up so easily,” Danarius said. He grabbed a fistful of Anders’s hair and yanked his head back up so that Anders was forced to look directly at Fenris. “Didn’t you want to help your friend ?” He pressed a palm roughly against Anders’s ass, pulling the skin away from his hole as he nudged the tip of his cock inside. Anders gasped. The magebane was still a vile taste on his tongue, and it churned unpleasantly in his stomach. Without his magic, he was so empty and helpless. Even Justice was distant, still dazed from whatever spell that Danarius had used to banish him.

Fenris recognized the labored expression of pain on Anders’ face. He knew the way the scrape of Danarius’s cock into Anders’ unprepared ass would hurt so badly; he had felt it many times. Anders’ eyes were watering as he fisted his hands in his hair, straining against Danarius’s hold on the golden locks. Fenris lurched forward involuntarily when he saw Anders starting to cry. It was wrong . But his hands were firmly trapped behind him. The blood on his ear was drying now, but it didn’t hurt any less. He would rather have had Danarius do the same to his other ear than have Anders get mixed up in this, though. The mage was a good man, and didn’t deserve this. Anders saw Fenris move—it was the smallest pull against his bonds, but Fenris’s face was unmasked. He was worried for Anders . So much so that he tried to move forward to help.

A look of surprise and confusion crossed Anders’ face for a moment as his eyes locked with Fenris’.

The moment couldn’t last long, though. Danarius thrust in hard and Anders whimpered. Danarius pressed the knife blade against Anders’s spine when he tried to arch his back, still tugging roughly on his hair. Anders’ hips jerked involuntarily and he choked out an audible sob. He closed his eyes, tears starting to truly stream down his cheeks. Danarius shifted the knife, cutting another thin line of blood across Anders’ back. He ran a finger through it, then cut another line. Anders trembled and tried to fight the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

Fenris would have imagined that Anders would have been someone who cried loudly. But he was silent, and that was more disturbing to Fenris than nearly anything else. 

Danarius discarded the knife in favor of raking his nails down Anders’ back, over all the raised scars and through the fresh blood from the cuts. Eventually, he couldn’t hold out any longer. He jerked and finished inside Anders, holding his hip hard enough to bruise as he did so.

He dropped Anders’ head and sat back, tutting.

“The pretty mage couldn’t hold it all,” he said. He crawled over to Fenris and released one of his manacles so he could pull Fenris from his position. He immediately replaced the cuff. His little wolf was still dangerous, and had a taste of freedom. There was no point letting him think this new master could save him now.

“Lick him clean,” he ordered. Fenris didn’t move at first, looking down at the shaking mage. Danarius grabbed the chain on his ear and gave it a hard tug before shoving him towards the foot of the bed. “Now!”

Fenris yelped. After sitting still for a while, the pain in his ear had dulled to a persistent throb. The pain of having the piercings pulled was so blindingly intense that Fenris hurried to obey, before Danarius could do it again. Fresh blood pooled around the piercing as he knelt behind Anders. The mage’s entrance was red and looked painfully swollen underneath the magister’s seed that still leaked from the hole.

“Go on,” Danarius prodded, and Fenris leaned in before more abuse could be done to his tender ear. He ran his tongue up from the soft patch of skin behind Anders’ balls to the puckered hole, closing his lips to suck what he could from the area. It could hardly taste worse than the desire demon’s seed, so Fenris hurried to finish his task without further hesitation. Anders’ legs trembled, but he stayed still, his face still buried in the bedsheet. Danarius had turned around to lay back against the headboard, lounging and using a corner of the sheet to wipe himself down.

“How does it taste, little wolf?” He asked as Fenris sat back and looked up at him. Fenris dropped his eyes quickly. “So obedient today.” He smiled. “Was this mage to be your new master, then? Is that why he came here looking for you?”

Fenris clenched his jaw. Danarius wanted him to speak, to try to deny it. Anders was nothing like Danarius. He regretted every time he had implied any similarity between the two. Too late did Fenris realize how poorly he had misjudged the mage.

“A very pretty picture this makes,” Danarius said. “If only I could have it painted. Not to worry. I’ll take this little mage home with us. We can give him a lovely new home, can’t we Fenris? I’ll have a painting done then.” He laid his head back, sighing contentedly.

Fenris continued to stare at the sheet. He would do anything to keep Anders from falling into Danarius’s hands. He glanced up at the magister. He looked so vulnerable right now, but Fenris knew that he was anything but. In fact, he was probably hoping that Fenris would try to fight back.

Anders grunted and shifted. The magebane in his stomach was making him feel exceptionally sick now after everything that had just happened. Danarius looked at the mage, momentarily distracted.

Fenris heard a sniffled sob from Anders and saw the blood on his back from the knife. Anders was good . He helped people and fought hard for what he believed in. He didn’t deserve to be dragged back to Tevinter in chains to become a plaything for some twisted magister. If not for himself, but for Anders, Fenris had to do something . He had to try, at least once.

He launched himself at Danarius, reaching for his throat. If he could get a firm enough grip he could keep the magister from speaking, and hopefully also from moving. Anders looked up just in time to see Danarius seize Fenris by the neck instead, turning to slam his head into the headboard of the bed. He let Fenris collapse there, getting up to stand beside the bed.

“Oh, little wolf, so angry,” he said, just as composed as if he hadn’t just been attacked. “Watching me fuck your weak mage friend wasn’t punishment enough?” He grabbed at the thin gold chain on Fenris’s ear and pulled. Fenris moved immediately, following the movement and wincing, trying to ease the pain on his ear. Danarius pulled him so that Fenris was looking at him.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Fenris quivered with equal parts fear and anger.

“I’m still satisfied after the mage,” Danarius said. “You’re going to have to wait a bit.” He looked around the room.

“I can’t have you thinking you’re escaping punishment, though…”

Chapter Text

Danarius pulled Fenris from the bed, dragging him across the room to the heavy wardrobe that sat against the wall. He opened the door and looked through the old clothes that hung there, many of them moth-eaten and dusty.

“In you go,” he said, giving Fenris’s ear a tug. Fenris climbed in, pressing one leg against the back of the wardrobe and sitting sideways with his knees to his chest. Danarius once again removed one of his cuffs, pulling the chain up to drape it over top of the rod from which the robes were hanging. With Fenris’ arms stretched over his head, his ear brushed against his arm. He tried to shift so they wouldn’t touch. Danarius let him. Once the wardrobe door was closed, Fenris would not have space to do so anymore. His arms would press against his head in the suffocating darkness. Danarius smiled. This would do, but he could do a little better. He pulled an old pair of dusty hose from one of the shelves and bent to stuff it in Fenris’s mouth. He gagged on the sticky fabric until Danarius pulled it out so it wouldn’t choke him.

“How does that taste, hm, little wolf?” Danarius took a sash from one of his robes and tied it around Fenris’s head to hold the gag in place.

“Put your tongue to work on that,” Danarius said. “I’ll be back for you in a few hours once you think about your behavior.” He slammed the door, ignoring the muffled cry of pain as Fenris’s head slammed into his arm.

Danarius turned back to Anders. He released the collar from around his neck, allowing Anders to lower his arms once more, though they were still cuffed to the length of leather. Anders pushed himself up wearily.

“As for you...”

Anders glanced at the wardrobe and back to the cruel magister.

“You did very well,” Danarius said. “I have some food that was meant for Fenris, before he acted rashly. Perhaps you would like some?”

“I...want nothing from you,” Anders slurred. He still had tears on his cheeks, but refused to wipe them away now with Danarius watching.

“Very well.”

Danarius grabbed Anders’ arm and dragged him from the bed. Anders stumbled, his trousers still gathered around his calves. Danarius magically activated the runes on the cuffs on Anders’ wrists, releasing his hands and letting the collar fall to the floor. A moment later, he was securing Anders’ wrists into the manacles along the wall where Fenris had slept the previous night. Anders slumped against the wall as Danarius took the plate of food and left the room. He felt sick and dirty and exhausted. He’d thrown everything he could at the magister once he realized who he was, but still he’d been overpowered. Justice had come out too late, but just in time to take the full brunt of the blood magic spell that Danarius had used. He still couldn’t feel Justice. 

Anders pulled his trousers up, propping himself against the wall as he lifted his hips. By his boot, he saw the mess of dried blood on the floor. He pulled away, not wanting to think about what that might have been. Anders leaned heavily on one arm and retched on the floor. Some of the magebane came up, as well as the remainder of his breakfast. Anders heaved a sigh and flopped back against the wall. He still had hours before the magebane would wear off, and most likely Danarius had something else planned for when that happened.

The hours stretched long as Anders sat there. He’d hoped that Hawke would come after him, but as time went on, he had given up hope of that happening. There hadn’t been the slightest sound from the wardrobe, and Anders was beginning to worry. What if Fenris was suffocating? Anders strained to listen for any sound from across the room. But he could hear nothing. His anxiety climbed as more time went on. What if Fenris was dying?

Finally Danarius returned, but only to ignore Anders in favor of returning to the wardrobe. Anders watched nervously.

Fenris’s arms ached, his ass ached. His mouth felt bone-dry and coated in sticky dust. His head throbbed with a horrible headache from the pain in his ear that hadn’t improved at all. He would do it again if he had any chance at freeing Anders. He flinched when the wardrobe door opened and Danarius pulled away some of the suffocating robes that had been hanging in his face.

“Cooled down at all, little wolf?”

He released Fenris’s arms and pulled him from the wardrobe. Fenris tumbled to the floor, shivering. Danarius removed the gag, standing to watch as Fenris coughed, his throat feeling raw.

“You haven’t had anything to drink since the water you had this morning,” Danarius said. “You must be so thirsty.”

Somehow Anders knew Danarius didn’t mean to give Fenris water.

Fenris knew this as well, but he staggered to his feet nonetheless. Anders hated the way Fenris obeyed the magister, he was so defeated. Danarius let him readjust to his surroundings for a minute. He went to retrieve Anders and pulled him towards the door. He had only to snap his fingers and Fenris started after them, following them to the sitting room on the main floor.

“Alright, my beautiful wolf,” Danarius said, throwing Anders towards a chair. He stumbled and fell into it, reaching for his head to hold it. He felt so ill, even after emptying his stomach.

Danarius pulled a low table over in front of the sofa.

Fenris didn’t even wait for Danarius to command him. He climbed onto the table and sat slumped, watching the magister for direction. Danarius reached for his ear, and he flinched away.

Danarius frowned, but didn’t say anything. He reached for the talisman on a cord around his neck, whispering as he touched it.

Anders gasped when the room darkened momentarily and a desire demon appeared next to the table. It moved on Danarius’ orders, not needing spoken directions. As the demon walked around towards Fenris’ head, Danarius reached to remove the chain holding the elf's cuffs together, setting the chain aside. The demon reached for Fenris’ head, grabbing his hair and dragging his face towards its cock. Fenris hurried to adjust, kneeling on the table on his hands and knees. He caught Anders’ eyes for a moment, and then looked down. Danarius stood behind him, hardly bothering to look as he removed his robes. The magister was lean. Not muscled, as Anders was, but had enough muscle that Anders could tell he regularly practiced—if not fighting, at least his magic, perhaps through duels or sparring matches, if that was something mages did in Tevinter.

Fenris’ mouth was already on the desire demon. The thing was only probing the tip of its cock into him, pulling it out and pressing it back in as Fenris tried desperately to keep his lips on it. The demon slipped out and smeared a pinkish silvery liquid across Fenris’ cheek before letting Fenris take it in his mouth again. This time the demon stepped closer, shoving its dick deep into Fenris’ mouth. One hand was firmly fisted in Fenris’ hair. The other reached down to play purplish fingers and sharp black nails against Fenris’s neck. The nails curled in to scrape up his throat, and Fenris gagged, trembling. Anders'  view was only partially obscured by the demon’s backside. He could still see almost everything, including the way Fenris avoided looking at him.

Danarius hummed appreciatively. He palmed Fenris’ ass with one hand, moving him roughly. Fenris had to spread his knees to steady himself.

Danarius had the cock ring in his other hand, and bent to slip it on. He activated the rune that tightened it around Fenris’ cock, just shy of being painful. Fenris’ fingers curled and he whined deep in his throat.

“Yes, a collar for my wolf,” Danarius said, running both hands up over Fenris’ ass cheeks, pulling them apart to expose his hole. He glanced over at Anders, checking to see if the man was going to behave or if he’d have to restrain him.

Anders hadn’t moved since he’d righted himself in the chair.

Danarius reached to his neck again, activating a second talisman. Another desire demon appeared. It sauntered towards Anders.

“Aren’t you lucky?” It purred in a rich, milky voice. “You have such a lovely view.” Anders turned his head to follow the demon’s movements. Every part of him wanted to run from it. The thing grabbed his chin and turned him back to Fenris. “It would be a shame to miss any of it.” Anders tried to pull his chin free, but the demon’s grip only tightened. Danarius had summoned a demon just to make sure he was watching? Anders swallowed nervously.

Fenris’s eyes were unfocused. The demon was thrusting into his mouth, keeping a firm grip on his hair as it did so. It climaxed, spilling down Fenris’ throat. Some escaped, a reddish liquid that ran from the corners of the elf’s mouth. The demon stepped aside, giving Anders a better view as it pulled Fenris’ head back. His jaw was slack as he gasped in large breaths of air. It looked almost like blood running from his mouth.

Then the demon squatted down, pulling Fenris’ head with it until his chest was pressed against the table, his ass high in the air while Danarius still toyed with him, rubbing his pale dick between Fenris’s cheeks. Now that Fenris was presented to him this way, though, Danarius got to business, shoving roughly inside.

Fenris closed his eyes, opening them again suddenly as the demon leaned in and licked the tip of his freshly pierced ear. Danarius was well aroused and wasn’t wasting any time, thrusting in hard. The demon leaned to close its lips around more of his ear, including the piercing and most of the chain dangling from it. Its tongue flicked out to lick at the second piercing on his earlobe and Fenris whimpered. The throbbing pain in his head threatened to obscure his vision, as it became momentarily so intense. His stomach burned, the demon’s seed threatening to spill back up from his throat. And to make it all worse… the mage was watching. Fenris couldn’t bring himself to look at Anders, not after what had happened to him earlier. It was his own fault Anders had been forced to suffer like that.

The next few minutes were a blur. The pain of Danarius thrusting into him was nothing compared to the pain in his ear. The demon nipped at the chain, tugging it lightly. Then it seemed to get an order from Danarius and leaned in to reach for Fenris’ dick, stroking it languidly. Fenris cried out, the ring turning the pleasure into a sharp pain. He dropped his face to the table, his legs trembling.

Anders tried to pull away from the demon holding him, but its grip only grew tighter.

“Just sit back and enjoy,” it murmured in his ear. Anders needed Justice, he needed his staff. Anything to fight back against this twisted magister.

Danarius finished inside Fenris. Anders wondered for a brief moment if he’d be asked to lick the elf clean as Fenris had been tasked to do to him, but Danarius ignored him. The demon climbed up onto the table, following new orders. Danarius pushed Fenris forward and he was forced to turn sideways in order to keep from tumbling face first onto the floor. He looked back to see the demon sitting where he had been kneeling before. Its dick was erect and it grinned, gesturing to its cock proudly.

“Take a seat, Fenris,” Danarius ordered. He reached for Fenris’ ear and the elf scrambled to obey. The demon helped guide his hips onto its cock. Fenris strained as the demon’s large member stretched him. He also had to hold himself up or seat himself completely, which was another painful task. Danarius had left the room for a moment, giving Fenris time to get situated.

By the time he returned, Fenris was panting and arched stiffly, but he was completely settled on the desire demon’s cock. The demon rolled its hips languidly and Fenris jerked, falling back against its chest.

“I do love to see you like this,” Danarius said. In getting situated, the demon had moved forward so that they sat closer to the center of the table.

Fenris glanced at the magister’s hands and saw a long, thin needle. His other ear throbbed in painful anticipation and he looked up fearfully.

“Oh, I am not planning on piercing your other ear,” Danarius said, reaching to fondle the unmarked ear. “You look so lovely with just the one. Two would be overdoing it, don’t you think?”

Fenris swallowed nervously.

“No, I think your chest needs some adornment,” Danarius said, dropping one hand to brush a thumb over one of Fenris’s nipples. “I decided against this previously, but I’ve changed my mind. It will also make for a lovely leash.”

The desire demon twined its arms around Fenris’, pinning them back and arching Fenris a little more forward. With its teeth, it leaned to grab at the chain on Fenris’ ear. Fenris had no choice but to turn his head, and found himself looking directly at Anders. The mage was being held down by the second demon, though it didn’t take much. He was too terrified to move.

Danarius leaned in to push the needle through the first of Fenris’s nipples, and the warrior trembled, tears springing to his eyes. Danarius completed the piercing with a gold ring, which he tugged once to test it. Fenris flinched involuntarily, causing the piercing on his ear to pull. His body was a single painful entity. It was all blurring together into one thing, just as his vision was blurring with tears.

Danarius pierced his second nipple and Fenris was truly crying now, as twin trickles of blood ran down his chest. Anders had never seen the warrior shed so much as a tear—Fenris barely smiled, much less showed sadness. It was sickening to see him begin to sob at the pain he was experiencing. Anders ached to help the elf, but he was painfully powerless. Danarius inserted the second ring into Fenris' other nipple and gave this one a tug as well before attaching a gold chain to both. It draped elegantly between the two. He pulled on it and Fenris arched, trying to relieve the sharp pain that focused now in his chest.

Danarius hummed appreciatively.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” he said. With a flick of his wrist, the desire demon disappeared and Fenris fell, immediately collapsing onto his side. He didn’t even flinch as his ear hit the table.

Danarius reattached the chain to one of Fenris’ wrists and then pulled at it roughly. Fenris somehow had the strength to get up and follow his master. Danarius led him across the room to a piece of heavy metalwork that twined up in a sinister design around the entirety of the fireplace. He pulled the chain through one of the loops of metal and then reattached the second cuff to the chain, securing Fenris in place.

Danarius had also brought in a second pair of similar cuffs. The second desire demon was still holding Anders in place. It pulled him from the chair and towards the other side of the fireplace, where Danarius dismissed the demon and then secured Anders in place as well.

“A pretty pair,” Danarius said, stepping back to admire them. “My little wolf and... what shall I call you, little mage? A bird, perhaps? You did have a good deal of feathers on your coat.” He chuckled and turned to leave the room, picking up his robes as he went.

Fenris finally slumped to one side, retching the bloody liquid onto the ground next to him. He struggled to keep from falling into his own mess, falling back against the cold metal. The tears were still drying on his face as he closed his eyes.

Anders wanted to speak to him, but there was nothing comforting he could say. So many words gathered in his head. Apologies, anger, compassion, and… yes, tenderness. Those feelings he’d been telling himself were nothing now clawed their way up. He had feelings for Fenris, and had been indulging them more and more. Fenris hadn’t seemed to be denying him either, even throwing back playful quips now and then. Anders had been eager to go on the mission with Fenris today, to spend more time with the handsome elf. How little he’d expected what had actually happened. And he still had no idea where Hawke was. He had probably gone for Merrill instead, and taken other companions.

Was there no hope then? Eventually the magebane would wear off, and Justice would wake up. Anders just had to wait.

Fenris’ thoughts were similarly bleak, but he had no hope of Hawke arriving. Justice wasn’t on his mind, only finding some relief. He tried not to think about the mage sitting on the other side of the hearth. The mage that he didn’t hate, the mage he’d begun to care about, be it ever so little. The mage who had tried to fight Danarius for him, and been hurt for it. Because of him. Who would probably hate him once more now, after being put through this.

They sat there in silence for some time, each with their own thoughts. Fenris fell into a light sleep, his body overwhelmed with all he had been through and giving him some relief. His head dropped to the side and his breathing, while still labored, slowed.

Anders’ head flew up when he heard a sound from the main hall. It sounded like the snap of Varric’s crossbow? A moment later, the hall was full of noise. Shouting, and the sounds of fighting. Was it possible that Hawke had come for them? Anders desperately hoped that Hawke wouldn’t be overwhelmed as well, but if Varric was there… perhaps he’d brought their friends.

There was no way to know how the fighting was going. Anders couldn’t feel magic with his own mana emptied from him, but he felt some renewed hope, and pulled at the chain holding him in place. Danarius had given him a large dose of magebane, and his magic was still far out of reach.

Fenris had snapped awake when the sounds of fighting started. He glanced at Anders.

“I… I think Hawke may have come after me,” Anders said, his eyes bright and hopeful. Fenris looked at the door, panic on his face. He had less hope than Anders that their friends would be able to overpower Danarius.

The sounds of fighting quieted. Anders heard someone running up the stairs, probably going to check Fenris’s room. He didn’t bother to call out, but was almost sure now that Hawke had won. Danarius wouldn’t run like that.

“Nothing!” He heard Isabela’s voice from the hall.

Then a murmur of voices. Anders looked up as the door opened. Hawke appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, shit,” he murmured, and ran forward, first to Anders. With his magic, Hawke tried to release the cuffs and free Anders’s arms, but realized that they were magical, and sealed with some kind of enchantment. “Are you hurt?” He put a thumb to Anders’ lips, lightly touching the puffy cut and the blood that was smeared on his upper lip.

“Nothing a little time won’t fix,” Anders said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t think Danarius used blood magic on the cuffs, but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

Hawke growled in frustration, looking down again as he channeled his magic into them, trying to find something that worked. Anders glanced over at Fenris. He was slumped against the metal sculpture, staring at Hawke, but without really seeming to see him. “Fenris—” He began, as Hawke struggled with the cuffs.

“I will need your help to move him,” Hawke said, without looking up. “If you can?”

Anders nodded.

“Aha!” Hawke found the combination for the cuffs and hurried to release them, freeing Anders before he hurried over to Fenris. He released the cuffs and tossed them aside. Fenris hardly moved, blinking at Hawke as if he were simply something that puzzled him.

“Maker, what did he do to you?” He reached to gently touch Fenris’ ear. Fenris jerked away, a tiny sound of protest coming from his throat. “How much does it hurt to move?” Hawke asked. “Can I help you lie down?”

“Don’t...touch,” Fenris whispered, his eyes finally focusing on Hawke’s face. Anders knelt next to him a moment later.

“We have to,” Hawke said. “If we’re going to help.”

“It’s not far,” Anders assured him gently. “Just across the room.”

Fenris took in a breath and held it, nodding his head. He closed his eyes and stiffened as Anders and Hawke carefully took his arms and helped him to his feet. The gold chain hanging from his nipples swung with each step and he wore a pained frown as he walked. They reached the sofa and eased Fenris onto his back.

Anders looked around for a blanket he could throw over the elf. He had no idea where Fenris’ clothes were, but if the others were to come in, he preferred to cover him. Hawke found a blanket shoved under the sofa. It was dirty, and a bit torn, but it worked to cover him for now. Fenris was still dazed, unable to truly process that Hawke had somehow bested the magister.

“Can we get some water?” Anders asked, finally sinking to his knees beside the sofa.

“You need to lie down as well,” Hawke insisted. “There’s a bedroom next door, a small one, where you can rest.”

“I would rather stay with Fenris,” Anders said, resisting as Hawke tried to pull him to his feet.

“Then let’s get both of you in there,” Hawke said. “You need proper rest for the magebane to wear off.”

“You can tell?” Anders asked.

“I can smell it on you,” Hawke said. “I’m a mage too, remember? And I know both of us are idiots who carry it around for treating poison. Come on, up we go.”

Anders stood and fussed as Hawke bent to pick up Fenris, wrapping the blanket around him. Anders adjusted the blanket, tucking it up over Fenris’ shoulder. Fenris was expressionless and unresponsive aside from the occasional grimace, and that worried Anders.

Hawke wouldn’t leave them alone until both Anders and Fenris were tucked into the bed. Anders pulled off his boots and climbed in beside Fenris. It was a decently large bed for such a small room, and they could lie next to each other without having to be pressed skin to skin.

Satisfied that they were comfortable for now, Hawke went to update his companions and to get them some water. Anders could hear talking from the main hall, but he ignored it. Hawke was kind enough to keep the others from coming in to see them in this disheveled state.

“Fenris?”

The elf sighed, blinked, and finally looked towards him, his eyes sad.

“I—” Suddenly Anders didn’t know what to say. ‘ I’m sorry’ seemed like such a pathetic thing to say. “I am here for you,” he said, instead.

“You see what I am?” Fenris said. “I cannot escape it.”

“I didn’t see anything that would make me think less of you,” Anders said. “If anything, I have more respect for you now.”

Fenris huffed, turning his face back to the ceiling.

“It’s no easy thing to break free,” Anders said. “Not just physically, but mentally. From everything I’ve seen of you, I’d never have guessed…”

“That was the intent,” Fenris groaned, closing his eyes. He’d hoped to have left all of that behind him.

“Hey, we’re all here for you,” Anders said. He moved one hand under the sheet, cautiously taking Fenris’ hand. “I am here. I’m not leaving.”

Fenris was surprised to feel Anders’ hand.

“You won’t tell Hawke?” Fenris said, looking back at him.

“So long as you don’t want Hawke to know,” Anders promised. “I won’t breathe a word.”

Fenris nodded. He grimaced at the pain in his ear from the piercings. His nipples ached as well, but he was afraid to touch them or the adornments Danarius had added. Perhaps Anders could help him with that later. After all, Anders knew everything now. If he had wanted to take advantage of Fenris’ pain, he could have already done so.

“It hurts?” Anders asked, watching Fenris’s face.

“My ears are… very tender,” Fenris admitted.

“I should have my magic again soon,” Anders murmured, giving Fenris’s hand a light squeeze as he closed his eyes. “I’ll help you.” He drifted into a light sleep.

Fenris turned to stare at the mage. This man who had fought for him and was still respectful, even wanting to help him further. Knowing what Fenris had done didn’t seem to deter him. Fenris did what he needed to survive, and only someone else who had done the same could really understand.

And Anders had.

Fenris sighed, closing his eyes.

He couldn’t sleep yet, though. Hawke came into the room with a pair of waterskins.

“I brought some water,” Hawke said. “Merrill, Isabela, and Varric want to know if they can help. We’ve got that old goat waiting for when you’re ready to deal with him.”

“Danarius?” Fenris sat up quickly, immediately regretting it when his head throbbed anew.

“Yep, nicely quieted down with some magebane and a nasty head wound,” Hawke said. “He won’t be going anywhere for a while. You need to rest, and we can deal with him later.”

Anders had been only barely asleep, and was now awake again as well.

“Magebane?”

Hawke smiled ruefully. “You’re not the only one with the bad habit of carrying around magebane, remember? I had some as well. Danarius is getting a taste of his own.”

Fenris wanted to immediately go and take care of Danarius, but a part of him liked the idea of making the magister wait.

“You are sure he will be unable to attack you?” Fenris asked. “Did you take the talismans he wears around his neck?”

“His jewelry?” Hawke asked.

“He uses them to summon demons. It only takes a little magic.”

“...good to know.” Hawke passed one waterskin to Anders, and handed the other to Fenris before he turned to relieve the magister of his talismans.

“You need to rest,” Anders urged Fenris once they had both nearly emptied their waterskins. Fenris sat hugging his knees.

“They did not kill him,” Fenris said. Anders tugged on his arm and Fenris gave in, laying down again. Anders pushed himself up and reached to gently pull the sheet up over Fenris’ chest.

“No, they want you to have that chance,” Anders said. “That justice is yours to take.”

“Why shouldn’t I do it now?” Fenris asked, frowning up at the ceiling.

“You’re exhausted,” Anders said, putting his hand on Fenris’s arm. “Rest.”

Fenris closed his eyes. Anders was about to fall asleep when Fenris spoke again.

“Why do you wish to help me?”

Anders rubbed his thumb in a gentle circle on Fenris’s arm.

“We’re friends,” he said. “I can’t see someone I care about suffering and not lift a hand to help.”

Fenris still lay with his eyes closed. Anders thought he might be asleep, but then he spoke.

“You care about me?”

“Of course.”

Another long pause. 

“Why?”

Anders breathed out a tired chuckle. “Because you are insufferably stubborn and smart, in the best way. And not many people can go through what you did and come out so kind-hearted on the other side.”

“Like you?”

Now it was Anders who was silent for a long moment as he licked his lips, his muddled brain trying to process the question.

“You think I am kind?”

“ Venhedis , mage,” Fenris said, with a breathy shallow laugh, though it hurt to laugh. “You have not a single unkind bone in your body.”

Fenris’ eyes were still closed, but he was smiling now, just a little.

“I never imagined you thought of me that way,” Anders said quietly.

Fenris only hummed in affirmation.

“Do you...you like me?”

“I do not know.” Fenris opened his eyes. “I do not hate you.”

“It’s probably not a good time to discuss it,” Anders said, shifting to curl up on his side facing Fenris, but leaving his hand on Fenris’ arm. “Sleep for a bit. Let Hawke take care of things. Once my magic returns I’ll be able to do more.”

“We should both sleep,” Fenris said, turning his head to look at Anders.

Anders glanced at the gold earring when it came in view, then back at Fenris’ face. He would check that first for infection, once his magic returned, and then he would soothe away any remaining pain. Fenris looked deep inside of him, those eyes had so many thoughts behind them. He moved his arm up, Anders’ hand sliding off, to brush the backs of his fingers up Anders’ cheek.

Anders’ hand followed, cupping it lightly. Fenris’ hand dropped to the bed between their faces and Anders laid his over top of it.

“We will talk later,” Fenris said, his eyes finally drooping shut.

“Yes,” Anders agreed. “I would like that.” As he too closed his eyes, he could only think about those endless green eyes and what many things he would do to make sure that Fenris was never hurt like that again. He had to admit to the possibility that perhaps he liked Fenris a bit more than he’d previously thought, and dared to hope that Fenris might feel the same.