Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was, by all accounts, far colder in Harvestmere than it had any right being, Anders thought to himself. He pulled his overcoat closed, buttoning it against the frigid twilight air. He could always step inside the library to wait, but by now, Karl would have extinguished the fire in preparation for their daily walk home, and the room would already have a chill.

"Good evening, Master Thekla."

"Good evening, Sister Leliana," he answered with a nod.

The Chantry lay sister paused for a moment, gazing up at him with a sparkle in her eye which Anders was certain hinted she knew more than she ever said to anyone. "How does your brother fair?"

"Karl is well. Though I suppose it is taking him a little longer than usual to close up today."

"And your day at the clinic?"

"It was quiet today," he said, truthfully. With winter coming, the people of the village were prone to less movement, which both reduced injury, but... "The calm before the storm, I am afraid. Winter will increase aches and pains for the elderly and infirm, and fevers will become more common."

"Of course," she agrees with a thoughtful nod. "We should take the time to thank the Maker for our smallest blessings - that our healer has had a quiet day."

"I certainly will, Sister; thank you for the reminder."

"I shan't keep you longer. May the blessings of Andraste find you."

"And you." Anders watched her with an unmistakable fondness as she continued her promenade to the Chantry. Although they spoke daily, at this same time, he had grown accustomed to seeing her. He was fairly certain she saw through their cover and did not judge them; nearly as certain as he was she was not simply a mild-mannered Chantry lay sister.

There was a small gust of warm air against his back as the door opened and closed behind him. Karl paused for a moment to lock the door; he swayed forward as he spotted Anders, nearly forgetting himself, but he managed to stop before he got too close. "Good evening, love," he whispers instead, glancing around their area. "Did I miss Sister Leliana? Am I that late?"

"Only by a few seconds," Anders assured him. Karl gave him a nod and without a word, they began their daily ritual of walking home together.

Lothering was a small village which had outgrown the moniker "village" by having a few more services and people than the average village, although it still didn't quite approach "town". The village's routines had become familiar to both of them, as they'd been among its residents for nearly a decade. After leaving the University at Kinloch Hold, Anders had settled with Karl in Redcliff.

The city was busier and anonymity was possible, and although not fearing their neighbors may inspect their relationship too closely was lovely, ultimately, the hustle and bustle of city life and not knowing the names of the people around you left the two young men who'd lived and attended school for decades at Kinloch Hold… unsettled. After a few years, they'd chosen Lothering for their homestead, where they'd introduced themselves as brothers, so that no one would question too closely why two adult men lived together. The villagers had logically concluded that Anders' last name was the same as Karl's. Neither of them were inclined to disabuse them of their misunderstanding, and frankly, Anders enjoyed it, as it allowed him to imagine they had married.

"How was your day?" Karl inquired. Anders noticed — though it was unlikely that anyone else did — when Karl's sentences clipped short a little too quickly from holding back a softly spoken 'love.' It made him smile to himself, holding the secret close to his heart, only his to cherish.

"Quiet," he repeated. "And things at the library?"

"Exciting. This month's shipment arrived early. The newest Tethras novel is here. Tomorrow I shall make signs; they're to be put into circulation on Friday." His blue eyes sparkles, a grin on his face.

"Is it wise to advertise so boldly?" he asks. "The last time he had a new release you couldn't keep it on the shelves."

"I managed to get four copies this time," Karl replied excitedly. "I'll set one aside for you."

"Or... you could let me read it now," Anders tempted. "I'm sure I could finish it before-" His eyes were drawn to a stranger in the distance, a man whose gait was slower than normal, his shoulders hunched as he wobbled unsteadily. The few villagers on the roads at this time of day were giving him a wide berth; a few were staring at him and whispering among themselves. He seemed determined to keep going, though his feet drug and his right hand hung loosely at his side.

"Something is wrong," Anders murmured. He barely glanced to make sure no buggies were coming before he crossed the road, closing the distance to the stranger with a slow jog.

The elf blinked up at him, white bangs shielding green eyes which were narrowing suspiciously as he stepped in front of him. "Hello," Anders said as cheerfully as he could muster. "You're new here."

"Just passing through." The words were difficult, labored, but Anders couldn't tell if it was because his cognition was being impaired or if it was due to not being well-practiced in Trade. He could definitely discern an accent but he couldn't place it.

"Perhaps we can point you in the right direction," Karl offered. Anders was ashamed to admit he hadn't noticed Karl arriving at his side. "We were new here once, as well. My name is-"

"No. That won't be necessary." The man swayed on his feet. Anders thought he caught specks of blood on the inside of his cuffs, and there, again on his collar. Wounded? Or perhaps a cough that was producing blood?

No good trying to guess. He needed to get him to somewhere private, where he could do an examination. "Please," Anders tried again. "I'm a healer. I can help you. No charge."

"I don't need help from you, mage." The word mage was spit from curled lips like a curse, and Anders flinched at the venom it contained. The elf gathered up his strength to push past them, but he took one step and staggered again, falling against Karl's large body as he lost consciousness.

Anders had no idea how the stranger had still been standing at all if he were honest. Hidden beneath his coat was a large gash in his back, caused by a sword or other blade; he was covered in strange blue markings which reminded Anders of lyrium, though he was certain they couldn't be; his back was covered in the all too familiar scars left by lashings. But those were just the externally visible problems: in addition, he was malnourished, dehydrated, and had the beginnings of hypothermia. Though he couldn't be certain.

He certainly had a story to tell, but Anders wasn't sure he would tell it.

The kettle's whistle pulled him from his reverie; he set it off the heated stove to cool as he measured the tea leaves. In the other room, he thought he heard shuffling, and the faint sound of low voices. He nearly left the tea, doubling back once he realized Karl would be upset if he returned without it. Tea-board in hand (and tea steeping), he entered the small guest room off the kitchen, unused except for emergencies, and slid the tea-board onto the small bedside table.

Large green eyes met his, and he shuddered at the rage he found there. "Am I a prisoner then, mage?" the stranger grumbled.

"No," Anders replied. "Of course not. You're free to go." The stranger threw off his blankets and moved to stand from the bed. "Once you're able to walk on your own."

Anders' arms were around the man as he collapsed into him, and he lowered the elf slowly back to the bed. The elf flinched from his touch. "What did you do to me?" he accused harshly.

"I've healed you," Anders snapped, realizing a bit too late how harsh his tone was. He angrily dropped the tea infuser into the pot, to give his hands something to do other than strangle the life out of the ungrateful, hateful man before him. The lid of the teapot snapped back with a satisfying clink as Anders continued, "I mentioned before I'm a healer. In the street. Before you passed out. We carried you here, to our home, as it was closer than my clinic. I healed the wound on your back and alleviated your hypothermia, but there is only so much magic can accomplish - even healing magic. You are weak, exhausted, dehydrated, and malnourished. And I think, perhaps-" As if on cue, the elf let out a deep cough and sniffed. "You are likely to develop a mild catarrh accompanied by cough."

"If I am free to go, I am not staying here. May I have my clothes?" With each word he struggled to catch his breath.

Anders' eyes met Karl's across the room, and he gave Karl a nod. Clearly, the man was too stubborn to accept defeat yet. Karl retrieved his neatly folded stack of clothes, and held them out for him. "I laundered them," Karl explained, "while Anders was healing you."

"Thank you," he replied, though his irritated expression did not lessen, as he selected his underpants from the stack and began to pull them on. He tried to stand to pull them up to his hips and he rocker on his feet; Karl reached to steady him as he snapped, "I can stand on my own!" But he gave up before he managed to button the cotton undergarments, and he landed squarely on the bed. "How long?" he asked.

"I can't be certain," Anders answered truthfully. "But you can stay here as long as you need."

"I shall leave as soon as I am able, mage."

"I have a name," Anders snapped, "and mage isn't it. My name is Anders." The elf didn't respond, only blinked up at Anders as he settled back into the bed and pulled up the covers.

"I'm Karl," he said, as if trying to prompt the stranger to share. Anders watched the man's jaw clench, as if he were physically trying to hold back the response. "How do you take your tea?" he added, moving to the nearly forgotten tea-board.

"With wine," the stranger intoned snarkily, and Anders snorted despite himself. He was infuriating, prejudiced against mages, and possibly dangerous and Anders certainly didn't like him… but there was something more, something… undefinable. "I'm called Fenris," he offered after a few moments of silence punctuated only by the sounds of Karl stirring sugar and cream into tea cups.

"It is lovely to meet you, Fenris," Karl replied with a smile as he handed a cup to their guest.

"There will be another Templar tomorrow," Karl remarked as he shrugged out of his waistcoat.

"Yes," Anders agreed. Templar Vallen had shown up at their door shortly after they'd managed to get Fenris to their home, reports of the stranger collapsing had spread through the village so quickly. He hated this part - the fear and suspicion. They would check back day after day, possibly multiple times a day, to ensure that Anders was not abusing his power, that Fenris was recuperating, that they were not holding the man against his will. Added to Fenris' insistence that he leave as soon as possible, the way he spit the word 'mage' with such hatred, Anders' patience had been running thin.

After Karl had pried Fenris with tea, he'd relaxed some; he avoided any questions which hinted at his past, and if Anders thought about it too hard, hadn't actually spoken much at all. He had enjoyed a dinner of broth and bread - not much, but enough to get some nutrients into his system. Anders hadn't wanted to shock it too greatly.

Anders slipped into the bed under the blankets, trying not to shiver. There was a chill in the air, despite the stove, and the few seconds he'd spent naked and exposed in the room had left him freezing. Karl pressed close, and Anders nearly melted into the warmth of his body, and the strength of his arms.

"I will move him to the clinic as soon as I can," he whispered. It certainly wasn't the first time they'd had someone in their home, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but every time the risk of exposure made Anders anxious. If someone pried too much, if they noticed too much-

"Don't worry about it, my love," Karl insisted. "I would rather him be here so you could be with me at night, than to not have you here because you have to stay in the clinic." Karl squeezes him gently and Anders lets out a soft sigh. Fenris was in poor enough shape, he might need overnight care, and Karl was right Anders couldn't - in any good conscience - leave him alone. Even now, they'd left a bell with him so he could call one of them if he needed them.

Their legs tangled together, and Anders delighted in the soft, familiar shape of Karl's body against his. He claimed Karl's lips with the press of his own, tender, gentle, but still it took his breath away. "I've missed you today," he whispered.

"We've been together for hours, love," Karl answered, grinning delightfully. His hands slid over Anders' body, tracing the long lines of his back; one hand traveled lower, gripping his ass and pulling him closer.

Anders' hips moved with a mind of their own as he gasped against Karl's lips. "It wasn't the same," he protested. "Having to be mindful of someone else around-"

"I concede that point," Karl answered, "but I couldn't help but think of our time at Kinloch, sneaking lingering touches, gazing longingly… sneaking off to quiet corners of the library for a frantic tryst; your pretty face with your lips parted as you tried to bite back moans of pleasure."

Anders shoved Karl gently onto his back, climbing on top of him; he pinned Karl's hands above his head, their fingers entwined. "You're terrible," he grinned, moving his hips against Karl's. He gasped, blue eyes going wide at the feel of them sliding against one another, half-hard lengths filling quickly. "I seem to recall I wasn't the only one holding back moans and gasping for air."

Karl's tongue flicks across Anders' lips, teasing them gently. "We should see if we are still capable of being discreet," he murmured.

Anders claimed Karl's lips in answer, the movement of their lips and tongues becoming something hungry and wanton as hours dissolved into a symphony of heated sighs and choked whimpers of ecstasy.

Chapter Text

The knock on the door came earlier than either Karl or Anders expected. Karl was still moving slowly, naught more than underclothes on, while Anders (although also not a fan of early mornings) had managed to pull on his trousers. He shrugged on his waistcoat, and quickly descended the stairs, throwing open the door without hesitation.

He blinked in confusion. "Sister Leliana," he exclaimed, "pardon my state of undress. I was expecting a Templar." He quickly buttoned his waistcoat. "Please, come in."

"The Templars were satisfied with allowing me to make their call instead," she said cheerfully as she stepped into their home. "And do not worry about having your waistcoat unbuttoned. I have certainly seen others in a far less clothed state."

She pulled off her gloves as her eyes swept the front room. Their home was small compared to some of the more extravagant homes which had been built in Lothering recently, though it was larger than many of the village's oldest domiciles. He wondered if their meager furnishings was more or less than the sister was used to seeing; whatever she thought of it, her face remained impassive after her appraisal.

"I was just going to make some coffee, Sister, if you would like to join me in the kitchen," Anders offered. She joined him in the kitchen, claiming a seat at their small dining table as he added water to the bottom of the siphon pot, and coffee grounds to the top.

"How is the newcomer faring? Has he told you anything?" she asked.

Anders tensed, willing his rapidly beating heart to calm as he lit the stove using a small fire spell. "His name is Fenris," he answered. "I healed his wounds, and he is out of danger, but he is very weak. I'm uncertain how long he went without regular food or water or sleep."

"Did he share any of what happened?"

He could feel her eyes on him. Intent. Observant. He swallowed hard, his eyes moving to the door behind her, where Fenris was sleeping. "No. He is uneasy, distrusting, and angry. He particularly dislikes mages." His eyes moved to hers, and his heart pounded in his chest. "We haven't done anything to cause that - neither Karl nor I. I noticed him on the way home yesterday evening, a stranger in Lothering behaving strangely. He was unstable and people were giving him a wide berth; they probably thought him a drunkard, but I recognized something was wrong. We approached him, offered to show him around, but he refused, and when he tried to push past us, he fainted."

His hand shook, and he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide it. "Anders," Leliana began softly. "This isn't an interrogation. I don't believe you have done anything wrong. I'm simply curious."

"Right. Yes. Of course," he replied, trying to convince himself of her words. He busied himself with selecting three mugs and pouring coffee.

"Good morning, Sister Leliana," Karl announced as he walked in, looking at least slightly more lively than he had before. It was difficult not to claim a kiss good morning as Karl began preparing breakfast. "Are you staying for breakfast?" he asks casually.

"I shan't impose," Leliana replied as Anders set the enamelware mug of coffee in front of her, "but I'll stay for coffee with friends and then off to make my rounds around the village."

Fenris had spoken quietly with Sister Leliana before she left and she'd emerged with a smile, stating she may stop back in occasionally to spend time with him. Fenris had refused their company for breakfast, and as Karl had left for the library and Anders had begun to wash up, silence had fallen in the house.

It was strange to be at home during the day, rather than being at the clinic. It wasn't the first time he'd had patients who required around the clock care and who had come to their home, but it was the first time he felt as if the patient would want nothing to do with him. Fenris had already refused to allow them to keep him company with breakfast. He occupied himself with making a list of things for Karl to pick up from the clinic the next day, and delighted in the fact that at least he'd have the new Tethras novel to read on Friday.

They had bacon leftover from breakfast, and he'd made Karl a bacon butty to take with him for a working lunch; he mimicked the lunch for himself and Fenris, adding a bowl of chicken broth to give some extra nutrients to Fenris. The tray he used to deliver lunch hopefully contained his sandwich as well. "Would you mind some company for lunch?" he asked as he set the tray down.

He expected Fenris to deny him, but was surprised when the elf said quietly, "I would not mind if you stayed."

The elf was quiet as he ate and Anders was afraid to interrupt the silence. He wasn't sure what to talk about - he had no idea about the man's past and no idea what might upset him. "Is there… anything you need while I'm here?" he asked. "Are you… comfortable?"

"I'm fine," Fenris replied between bites of his sandwich.

"I know it's tedious when you're convalescing," Anders began, "would you like some books to read? We have a small collection here, and Karl runs the library. He can bring something home if there's nothing here you might enjoy."

"No." His tone was abrupt and Anders sighed inwardly. "I can't read," he clarified.

"I see," Anders replied. "I could read to-"

"No." His reply was terse and short, and Anders watched as his jaw clenched. He seemed to force it to unclench, to force the tension to leave his shoulders. Fenris shifted uncomfortably, averting his eyes. He sipped at his broth. "Cards. If you have them."

They didn't have them, but it was the first attempt Fenris had made to reach out. "I can find some," Anders answered.

He snuck out as Fenris finished his lunch, making a quick trip to the general store to buy a pack of cards. He presented them to Fenris as he came for his tray. "Do you play Diamondback?" Fenris asked.

"No," Anders admitted, "but I would like to learn."

It didn't take him long to clean up after lunch, and when he returned he was surprised to find Fenris awaiting him eagerly, shuffling the cards with an unexpected expertise. Fenris explained the rules of the game, though Anders admittedly didn't absorb quite everything.

Their first two rounds were quiet and tense as Anders tried to figure out what he was doing, the silence only broken as he asked for clarifications on rules, or when Fenris corrected a mistake he'd made.

By the third hand, Anders felt a little more comfortable, and it must have shown on his face, because Fenris cleared his throat. It seemed to take him some nerve to speak, as he cleared his throat once again before he said, "I'm from Tevinter."

"Ah." Anders didn't say what he was thinking, that suddenly the scars on Fenris' back made more sense, as did his illiteracy, and his hatred for mages. Anders also suspected why Fenris was anxious to move on and perhaps why he'd been injured in the first place. He was on the run; perhaps, he was being hunted. "I was born in the Anderfels, but I don't remember it. My parents moved us to Ferelden while I was still an infant. I grew up in the farmlands on the outskirts of Redcliffe until my magic showed."

"Lucky for you," Fenris intoned, making his play.

Anders blinked at him. He was difficult to read, and at first he believed Fenris was being sarcastic about his magic, but he slowly realized the man was serious. He tried to ignore the urge to correct him; he failed. He set his cards down. "I'm not certain you understand what it is to be a mage in the south," he said.

Fenris narrowed his eyes at him, lips setting into a frown. "Free education. Free room and board. Power-"

He inhaled sharply. "I got my magic when I was 10," Anders said. "My father told the Templars, and begged them to take me away, practically said 'good riddance' as they drug me from the only home I'd known." It was the last time I saw my mother. He holds back that detail. "We do get an education, but it isn't free."

"You must pay?" Fenris questions.

"Not with money," Anders clarified. "But with our freedom."

Fenris laughed. "You have your freedom. You can go where you want, do what you want-"

"Maybe in Tevinter, but not here," Anders countered. Fenris eyed him skeptically, selecting a card and making his play. "Our freedom is ours, so long as we play by the rules and use our magic to serve man. What that means is slightly different for every mage, but ultimately, it means our freedom is tied to the whims of the Chantry. After passing rigorous tests, and completing our education, we may only settle where there are Templars - which means we are restricted to locations with a Chantry. If I wanted to return home, I couldn't do it. Our every act is subject to scrutiny, and any wrongdoing - even perceived wrongdoing - can lead to harsh punishments or even death."

"The power you wield is dangerous," Fenris justified. "You could abuse it-"

"No more so than a sword or a crossbow!" He felt himself getting angry, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "We have limited career options open to us - and all of them must serve our fellow man in some way."

"But you can have careers. You may earn money and-"

"We cannot own property," Anders snapped. "We cannot marry or have children. Most mages spend their lives alone and afraid to love!" He felt that he was treading into dangerous territory, but he could not stop himself. "My brother and I are lucky that-"

"Your brother?" Fenris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Anders swallowed hard, mouth running dry. "Karl. Karl is-"

Fenris' disbelieving laugh hit him hard. "Not your brother," the man said knowingly. Anders' blood ran cold, fear causing him to freeze. He should deny it, should insist that he and Karl were only brothers, but he wasn't able to gather his wits before Fenris pressed on. "I know of no adult brothers who share a room… or such longing looks for one another… unless of course, your relationship is more scandalous than I had imagined."

"N-no," Anders murmured. He set his cards down, frowning deeply, all thoughts of the game forgotten. He'd thought they'd been in danger from the Templars when they'd taken Fenris in, that having them visit once or twice a day while he was there could lead to disaster, but the truth was, Fenris was far more dangerous to them than the Templars. "Please, you mustn't tell anyone. If anyone realized… if the Chantry found out, they would force us to separate."

"You can't be serious," Fenris frowned. For a brief moment, Anders feared Fenris was scoffing at the idea of keeping their secret. "I don't understand. If you aren't allowed to marry, or have children, then-"

"It isn't simply about not producing more mages; that is only a pretense. But ultimately, the Chantry bows to the pressures of society and of nobles who know how to play politics. Relationships like ours are only tolerated if we had been married to women; a romantic tryst, a dalliance, nothing… more. And since we cannot marry…"

Fenris looked serious, his frown deep. "I will not tell anyone," he assured Anders.

For some reason, Anders believed him.

"He knows," Anders whispers that night as he curls into Karl, taking his place in the familiar tangle of limbs. "He figured it out, and I couldn't deny it. It was unbelievably careless bringing him here."

"Do you think he'll tell anyone?" Karl whispers as his hand begins to stroke Anders' back. The anxiety melts from him with the simple touch as he shakes his head no.

"He said he wouldn't. I don't know why, but I believe he is a man of his word."

Karl hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he replied succinctly, as if that were the end of any concern he had. Anders wished he could do that, could stop thinking about all the ways this could all go terribly wrong.

"He was a slave in Tevinter. I think he escaped and his wound was probably from bounty hunters," Anders offered.

"He told you this?"

"Not as such. He confirmed he was a slave in Tevinter. The rest, I surmised."

"The same way he deduced we were together?" Karl asked. Anders could hear the grin on his face, and he gave him a squeeze.

"I suppose, except that I won't simply bring it up casually as if it isn't a secret," Anders huffed. Karl laughed quietly, and pulled him closer. He could feel the other man's breathing growing steady, but he was greedy for his time and blurted out, "he told me he can't read."

"And that's how you guessed he was a slave?" Karl murmured drowsily.

"One of the ways."

"I see. I wonder if he would like to learn. I should ask him."

"You should," Anders answered, but the only reply was the soft sound of Karl's breathing.

Chapter Text

With each day, Fenris grew stronger. By the second full day after he'd fainted, his cough and congestion were gone, as was his dizziness and the fainting spells. What lingered was muscle weakness and fatigue; he'd fallen asleep as he'd been talking to Anders more than once.

He'd regained much of his appetite and eaten a full hearty breakfast; his first since he'd been with them. All-in-all, it was promising that he and Karl would return to their normal lives very quickly. Anders just wished there was more he could do to ensure that happened.

Karl had asked Fenris if he'd like to learn to read in one of their private chats they'd been having. He'd said yes, and the chats grew longer as they poured over a primer together. It drove Anders mad to watch Karl spending time with Fenris that way, and absurdly, it also made him worry… what if Fenris liked Karl more than he liked Anders?

He could have joined, if only he'd asked, but that felt invasive. So he'd poured himself some tea, and sat at the kitchen table reading through the newest Tethras novel, nursing the heavy stone of jealousy that had begun to form.

Which was stupid and childish. He trusted Karl. And he had no claims on Fenris. It was silly to wish for more time with him and bizarre to want so desperately to do something helpful for him, as if he hadn't already saved his life.

"How would you feel about a bath today?" Anders asked after cleaning up their breakfast. Fenris looked up to him, surprised, but considering.

He hummed thoughtfully. "That would be nice," he agreed.

Some part of Anders was surprised Fenris had agreed so easily, but it made him pleased. The warmth settled in his chest as he nodded. "I'll draw your water."

There was one tub in the house, in a small bathroom off the main room. It would be a bit of a walk for Fenris, but it would serve as a good test of how well he'd actually recovered his strength. Anders drew the water - warm rather than cool to help promote healing. Fenris was waiting on him almost eagerly at the edge of the bed when he returned.

He started off confident, hardly leaning on Anders at all; by the end of the walk, he was leaning heavily on Anders' shoulders, and Anders' arms were around his waist. It was difficult for Anders not to notice how slim he was and how warm his body was in his arms.

He shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on the way the man put one foot in front of the other, and how close the bathroom was. They paused in the bathroom as the door shut behind them, and Fenris stood on his own, looking proud of his accomplishment.

Anders reached for the buttons on Fenris' shirt, and was taken aback as the man pulled away from him. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Helping," Anders replied as if it were obvious.

"I can bathe myself," Fenris snarked.

"I can't let you do that," Anders scoffed. "What if you fainted? You could drown. I have to at least observe to ensure you are okay. Would you rather I stand in a corner and watch you, or assist with-"

"At least allow me the dignity of undressing myself."

The frown on Fenris' face seemed a permanent feature when it came to dealing with Anders, though the tension in his jaw seemed to come and go. In that moment, Anders envied Karl's easy rapport with Fenris; his lover had managed to pull a small smile from Fenris occasionally as they chatted over supper. "I suppose," Anders conceded.

As Fenris' nimble fingers unbuttoned his underpants and slipped them over his hips, Anders rolled up his own sleeves. Fenris allowed Anders to support him as he stepped into the tub and arranged himself in it leaning against the back with a heavy sigh of appreciation. He lets Fenris enjoy a short soak, before kneeling at the back of the tub. "Tilt your head back, let me rinse your hair."

Fenris complied, eyes closing as Anders filled the pitcher and used it to rinse his hair. He worked a mild lather up in his fingers using a mild soap and rubbed it into the silver locks, his fingertips massaging into Fenris' scalp. He let out a soft, contented sound; it reminded Anders of other sounds one might make in contentment, and a shock of desire moved through him.

His fingers paused before he forced them to keep moving.

The feeling was entirely unprofessional and unexpected. He had done this sort of thing for plenty of patients - some of which he'd found attractive - and he'd never before had such a reaction. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something to distract himself.

"My hair has gotten long," Fenris commented.

"I could cut it," Anders offered. Fenris made a sound of contemplation as Anders refilled the pitcher. "Another rinse."

He waited as the water was used to rinse the soap from his hair thoroughly before answering. "That isn't necessary. You're a healer. This isn't something you should concern yourself with."

"I am a healer," Anders agreed, "and my patients deserve a standard level of basic hygiene, even if they are ill."

"Do you bathe all of your patients?" Fenris questioned.

"If they are ill enough to require assistance with basic care, yes. Baths, hair cuts, shaves." Fenris hummed skeptically. Anders tried to think of something to talk about as he confirmed Fenris' hair was rinsed clean, but the silence stretched on even as he began lathering up the sponge.

Fenris cleared his throat. "The Templars… how long will they come morning and night?" It was a fair question, but it was one Anders didn't have an answer to. "Until they're satisfied we're not doing anything untoward - holding you hostage or using blood magic to alter your mind or… or whatever it is they suspect us of. I believe it's mostly a formality, now, though in the beginning... Most of the Templars here try to be good people."

"I see," Fenris hummed.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

Anders was not naive enough to believe that, but he'd found that Fenris was nearly unreadable to him, even when they weren't playing diamondback; he had nearly no idea what the man was thinking or feeling. "What did you do in Tevinter?"

"You mean, as a slave?" Fenris intoned.

It was the first time he'd confirmed anything of his past, other than where he was from, and Anders' hand paused at the top of his back, sponge resting there lightly. He'd suspected, of course, but- "I suppose, yes. You're very… fit."

"Most slaves are. We do the physical labor, after all," Fenris scoffed. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite get it to manifest. It seemed he didn't have to, because Fenris pressed on. " I was a bodyguard."

"I see," Anders answered. The silence felt awkward, as if it made the moment far more intimate than usual. Anders was usually clinical… detached… during these acts; he'd never once been attracted to a patient before; other people had been attractive in a passing theoretical way, but it had never felt… quite this real.

A stone formed in his stomach. He would never act on it - he loved Karl too much for that - but the fact the desire was there, so clearly unnerved him.

The sponge dipped below the waterline, scrubbing Fenris' back gently, and Anders noted the gentle shift in his breathing, subtle sharp inhales. "Do… do the markings hurt?" Anders asked.

There is a beat or two before Fenris answers, "yes." He seems lost in thought, the way he shifts in the tub, and Anders lets him consider before he continues, focusing on rinsing his back. "I am always aware of them, and sometimes when they are touched they are more painful."

"So the first day, when I caught you and you flinched away from me, was that because I was a mage or because the markings hurt?" He shifted slightly, moving to the side of the tub so that it was easier for him to reach Fenris' chest and arms.

"Yes," Fenris replied sincerely. "It was painful - more painful while I was ill - but I am unused to gentle touches from strange mages. My life has not left room for that possibility."

"I see," Anders said softly. "I'm glad I was able to change that for you."

The day after his bath, Fenris was strong enough to make it to the kitchen for breakfast. He watched them in silence, sipping coffee as they flitted about the small space, Anders completing most of the prep while Karl did much of the cooking. If the casual uses of magic bothered him, he didn't say a word, but it occurred to Anders (probably too late) that Fenris was likely more used to that than the average Fereldan.

Fenris' mood seems somber, withdrawn, and both Karl and Anders seem able to sense it. Their normal chatter discussing their plans for the day, what they may do for lunch or tea or supper, or what news was spreading in the village was absent.

The elf waited until he'd eaten most of his breakfast before he shifted in his seat, "my first day here you said-" He stopped abruptly as if he wasn't certain he should say what he wanted to say, or perhaps he was trying to talk himself up to it. "You said I could stay as long as I needed. I think… I would like to stay longer, if that's okay. I would like to repay you in some way."

"You don't need to repay us," Karl replied before Anders could answer. "Anders' clinic is free, supported by donations from the Chantry. There's nothing to be paid."

"I have already asked Sister Leliana to tell the Templars they may stop their visits, though I don't know if they will listen. I hope that… I hope that if I find work and begin making appearances in the village they will realize I am not staying against my will. I do not intend to impose for much longer… only until I can build enough savings to locate somewhere else to stay."

"That… That should be just fine," Anders replied, though he could not stop the feeling of dread from settling into his stomach.

He pressed close to Karl, clinging to him as he tried to work up the nerve to speak the words which had been running through his mind for the better part of the day. "Karl, my love," he began slowly.

"Yes, Anders?" His hand moved to Anders' cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone in the familiar way which made his heart ache and the anxiety settle in his chest.

"Something happened yesterday… with Fenris… as I helped him with his bath."

The thumb stopped moving, and Karl's stillness caused Anders' heart to skip a beat. What if he was angry? What if he wanted to leave him? What if- "What happened, Anders?"

"I was attracted to him."

Karl snorted, as if trying to hold back a laugh, but he failed a moment later, curling against Anders and trying to muffle his laugh in his shoulder. "You and anyone else with eyes, love," he finally managed.

"Don't laugh. This is serious. I was attracted to him and I-"

"Surely you've been attracted to other people since we've been together. I heard about your escapades before we were a couple. You didn't just stop finding other people attractive. I didn't," Karl said seriously.

"No. Yes. It's complicated. I've found other people attractive, but never in such a concrete way. I felt as if I could… as if I might act on it." Karl shifted next to him, his thumb moving back to Anders' cheek to stroke it gently. "I should have mentioned it before we agreed to let him stay and now-"

"Was this a fleeting thought? Or do you still want him?"

"I… I don't- I still think he's attractive, but I haven't been nearly so close to acting on it as I was in the bath," he confessed.

Karl leaned close, his breath warm on Anders ear and whispered heatedly, "and what if we shared him? Just think of him writhing between us, lips parted in pleasure-"

"Stop!" Anders gasped, though it was already too late, and his body was beginning to respond to the fantasy. "He's my patient."

"Not for much longer." Even in the dark, Anders could see Karl's wicked grin, and he huffed in frustration. "Anders, we've shared women between us before. This is… no different, even this many years later. As long as neither of us act on it without the other's consent, there is nothing to feel guilty about."

"Alright, my love," he agreed quietly, though he wasn't sure he believed it. "Do you find him attractive, then?"

"Fenris is intelligent, sarcastic, witty, and very easy on the eyes. Of course I find him attractive, but you've got nothing to fear, love. Nothing will happen, unless we all agree."

Anders' first day back at the clinic had been busy. It was as if all of Lothering had decided to get sick at once by some agreement. He'd worked nearly from the time he'd unlocked the door until he'd locked it again. He hadn't even stopped for lunch.

It seemed Fenris had worked too hard on his first day at the library, throwing himself into dusting the shelves with wild abandon. Karl had forced him to take breaks, to eat properly, but even still, after they'd eaten dinner, the elf had slowly dozed off on the sofa next to Karl, mid conversation. It was clear that although he was better, he still wasn't his normal strength.

Anders had watched, between chapters of the latest Tethras novel, as Fenris had slowly slumped over, leaning onto Karl in his sleep, and Karl's arm had wrapped around him. Anders was a jealous man by nature, clingy and demanding, and he was surprised when he felt none of his usual concern - though he wasn't sure if it was the lingering thought of them sharing the man which set him at ease.

Fenris shifted in his sleep, his head falling forward, long bangs falling into his eyes. Karl hardly glanced at him as he reached out to tuck the stray hair behind his ear. The sensation caused Fenris to scramble off the sofa, looking a bit like a startled cat, eyes wide as he panted deeply. "I… I'm sorry. I should… I should retire."

The book in Karl's hand snapped shut as his eyes met Anders' across the sitting room. Anders added his bookmark and closed his own book. "Perhaps we should all retire," he began, "upstairs… together."

Green eyes moved from Anders to Karl and back again. "Are you asking me to have a threesome?"

"If you'd like," Karl said, "but if you're not interested in sex, you're still welcome to join us."

"For as long as you want," Anders added softly.

His nervous green eyes flitted to the stairs, before he nodded resolutely. "Okay."