Middle Ground has some ridiculously unrealistic dialogue, but this is my dumb fic so it says things that I want to hear. Also I had to keep toning down the fight, because Reid really could go off in dangerously intense ways.

When I played the game, I didn’t import a DAO save (for one thing I’m not sure where my Elizabeth save files are) and so I picked the Mahariel Warden pre-set to just jump in and get started, in which Alistair is king. And that was going to be useful, because as Reid gets into in this set of scenes, he’s starting to feel the pressure intensely enough to think about giving up. So Alistair was going to be very helpful in making Reid feel like he ought to stay to the end of the game. However, in Elizabeth’s game, Alistair is still a Warden. So I wrote two alternate scenes – one where Queen Anora asks Reid basically the same stuff as Alistair (which is my headcanon), but I also wrote one where Warden Alistair asks – and that one’s kind of more fun? So both of them are here for your entertainment.

I feel Merrill’s story arc really fumbles the landing. Hard to fix without going in a completely different direction.

Part 4

 

Anders

The sewer was as horrific as ever, and Reid was getting suspicious. “Anders, you’re really going to drink a shit potion? Really?”

“Would you balk at this if it were you?” Anders asked.

“I don’t know,” Reid said. “You sure owe me, though.”

“I do,” Anders said. “Though I think I’m going to ruin it: I know it isn’t my place to criticize, but… Are you sure about Fenris?”

Reid had not asked Fenris to come along for once; he knew better than to bring the two into close contact, especially in such an uncomfortable place that would only make tempers worse. “Of course I’m sure,” he said, a bit sharply. “I know you don’t like him, but I do.” That was an understatement. Maker’s breath, how his life had brightened up with Fenris’s awkward love in it.

“He seems less a man to me than a wild dog.”

“Don’t you call him that,” Reid said. “You don’t know him.”

“I know as much as I’m ever likely to,” Anders said irritably. “He has let one bad experience colour his whole world. Surely, you want someone more open-minded.”

Reid laughed loudly and sarcastically. “Oh, you want to go, Anders? It’s none of your business, but we can fucking go.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Anders said. “I’m trying to look out for you.”

“You call being tortured to amnesia and docility ‘one bad experience’? I call that as inhumane as Meredith’s Circle. Worse, perhaps. At least Tranquility happens in an instant.” Reid pointed at Anders. “You call years of brainwashed servitude ‘one bad experience’? That ‘one bad experience’ was his whole world! You’re so absorbed in your own agenda you can’t see that maybe he has a point?”

“He won’t admit that I have a point!” Anders rejoined. “He wants to see all mages caged, all as enslaved as he used to be – we don’t deserve that!”

“No, we don’t!” Reid said. “I’ve been working on that with him.”

“Sure, so now he makes an exception for you! He still hates the rest of us! He’s still an ass to Merrill! And you know he would rather kill me than speak to me by this point.” Rapidly, Reid was beginning to agree with that last point. “He’s out of control, Reid.”

“And you aren’t?” Reid said.

Anders flushed. “No. How dare you! I’m actively working to fix things. He sits on his skinny ass and follows you like a dog.”

Reid fixed him with a hard gaze. From what he’d seen, Anders had worked tirelessly to free mages from Circle servitude, yes… and with the recent crackdowns, he’d been growing more and more desperate. Desperate, determined men with nothing to lose were dangerous. With a chip on his shoulder the size of the fucking Gallows… “Again with the dog comparisons. You know what he doesn’t do, sitting on his skinny ass? Actively go out and hunt mages. He just disapproves of them.”

“He hates them, Reid. Hates us. Disapproval is far too tame. He is an enemy. You’re blinded by your affection! You’ve taken our enemy for your lover!”

“Or maybe I see him more clearly than you do, blinded by your animosity! I trust him. He trusts me. He helps me help mages, even when he quarrels with me over it. That should be enough for you.”

“Do you trust me?” Anders asked.

He had to remind himself that for all that this topic was on sore spots for both of them, Anders was not his enemy. Still, Reid wasn’t exactly kind when he was pissed. “Should I, the way you’re talking now? Would you still fight by my side if I were more supportive of Templars?”

“I… I don’t know,” Anders said.

“Oh, right, that reminds me: what was that about ‘wanting someone more open-minded’? Who are you talking about – Merrill? You?”

“Anyone,” Anders said, but he wasn’t meeting his gaze.

Reid stopped to skewer him with a look. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. ‘Yes, of course, Anders, I’ll just stop loving this man I’ve had feelings for since I met him and switch to you, who hasn’t said anything until now.’”

Anders, stung, was silent. Reid was silent.

“I want to help you,” Reid said finally. “I want you to be free and happy. I want all mages to be free and not forced or encouraged to use their magic for cruelty. But I’m also in love with Fenris, and that’s that.” His voice hardened. “And I’ll protect him even against you.”

“…Fine,” Anders said finally. “I’ve said my piece. Do as you will. And I’ll do as I must.”

Ominous, and Reid was pretty sure he was planning something that had nothing to do with separating himself from a spirit.

 

Middle Ground

Reid groaned as he slumped to the floor, his back to his bed, massaging his temples. He didn’t actually have a headache, per se, but he did have a lot of tension in his face… in his body… in his whole being.

“Now that sounds like trouble,” Fenris remarked, coming in through the window.

“Hey,” Reid said tiredly. “Politics. I fucking hate politics.”

“I hate politics too,” Fenris said. “That’s why I don’t get involved.”

“You fucking do too get involved,” Reid said. “You hang around with me.”

“That’s political now, is it?” Fenris squatted beside him. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Because I got tired of standing. Why can’t anyone see there’s a middle ground? No one wants to find it. There’s a fucking middle ground between Tevinter tyrants who murder enslaved children for party tricks, and the bowels of the Circle with steel bars and a Tranquil brand.”

“Because that takes actual work,” Fenris said, and helped him up. “I don’t trust your ‘middle ground’. Just because you’re a decent person doesn’t mean that most mages aren’t arrogant assholes. Or just idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“I’m an arrogant asshole, just not about my magic,” Reid shot back, and bristled. “So you still think every mage should be locked up? Because how would you decide who’s ‘decent’ or not? You can’t take that chance, can you?” His sarcasm was building with every sentence. “When mages are completely free and encouraged to rule like Tevinter, obviously they’re going to turn into monsters. But you treat them as wicked subhuman creatures when they’ve done nothing wrong, and then wonder why they try to escape? We’re people.” He shot Fenris an annoyed look. “Would think you’d be more sympathetic, really.”

Fenris recoiled physically. “Don’t you dare compare me to mages. There’s nothing similar between us.”

“No?” Reid challenged him. “What’s the difference, then? I don’t see any.”

“Then you’re blind,” Fenris snapped. “I can’t take out a charging Qunari squad single-handed. Or worse, if I give myself over to a demon.”

“Demons can take over ordinary people, they just normally can’t reach them,” Reid said. “As for charging Qunari squads, you’d damn well try. How many people did you kill to get out? Were they all evil? Did you enjoy any of their deaths?”

Fenris flinched. “How dare you-“

“No, how dare you?” Reid bit out. “I listen to you all the time so for one minute you can shut up and listen to me. You know the minute a demon tempted you, you went straight for it, like any half-baked apprentice, and I never got more than mildly irritated at you for it because you’re not an apprentice, you never got training against it. You know why my parents worked so hard to keep Bethany and me out of the Circle? Half the Templars anywhere are abusers and some of them will fucking kill you if you look at them funny – like Alrik, rot his soul – how do you think I’d do there, with my smart mouth? We don’t choose to be mages! You didn’t choose to be a slave but neither were you stamped from birth with this… burden, that makes people think we should be ripped away from our families as children, imprisoned away from the world, punished for disobedience – how can you say they’re not slaves just because no one particular person ‘owns’ them?”

 

Fenris had fallen back from Reid’s anger to put his back against the wall. He’d never seen him like this before. The most threatening Reid had gotten in his diatribe was to wave his arms in the air, and yet Fenris was still scared. And furious, but he- he didn’t have an answer to everything Reid had brought up. He didn’t want to answer. He just wanted to scream back, like his emotions would convince Reid he was right.

That wouldn’t work, not when Reid had his own emotions and considerably more cleverness on his side. “Fuck you! Fuck mages – if they all had your control, if none of them craved power – but that’s impossible in Tevinter!”

Reid’s hands clenched. “Tevinter’s a fucked up hellscape where people are encouraged to turn into monsters in human skin! But we’re not there, we’re here, and for every deranged murderer, there’s a scared kid just like I could have been that Meredith terrifies into fighting back the only way they know how! You say ‘there’s always an excuse’ – yeah, and that excuse is that they don’t see any other way out!”

“That’s exactly why they can’t be let loose!” Fenris said. “Every one of them has that power-“

“You remember that part where I didn’t kill anyone until the Blight hit?” Reid argued over him. “Before that I did all the horrible, terrible things that you’re afraid of as much as I wanted – zero! Most people don’t actually want to kill people! I still don’t want to kill people and you know it!”

“You’re different!”

“I’m not!”

“If you’re so not different, how come you ever wanted to date me, you fucking moron!?”

“Because for some reason, I still enjoy your company, you fucking dick!”

He hardly heard the answer, hot blood rushing in his ears. Fenris growled and tensed-

“Don’t you hit me-“ Reid snarled.

-and punched him in the face.

Reid went down like a gangly nine-pin and lay still long enough for a block of ice to drop into Fenris’s stomach. “Reid-“

Reid struggled to his feet again without much dignity, and for a moment Fenris flinched, certain that he was about to be on the receiving end of vengeful punishing magic once again.

“I asked you not to hit me,” was all Reid said, and he stormed to the door, nursing his cheek. Shortly afterwards, Fenris heard the front door slam.

Fenris found he was breathing hard, and suddenly it wasn’t with anger, or traumatized fear – but fear of what he’d just done. He couldn’t accept free mages, he couldn’t… but he already did, he helped Reid get them out of Kirkwall all the time, when they could be reasoned with. And in the moment, he hardly ever spoke up anymore – he’d learned he couldn’t change Reid’s mind on a situational basis, and all Reid needed from him was a solid, reliable defensive line, so he bottled it up and vented later. It wasn’t really his personal goal to eliminate every mage in the world. Just to make sure none of them hurt him again.

But never had Reid vented back at him, not like this, and it was terrifying. Were they done? He’d gone too far. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if he’d destroyed all they had in one explosive argument. One heated action that he never should have-

Cautiously, he ventured to the front door. He was of more than half a mind to slip away and… and what? And sulk? Wallow in his insecurity and see if Reid came to find him eventually? But what was the alternative? He always needed time to consider, to process, to try and understand all the social implications with his lack of social knowledge. He peered outside, but there was no movement near the door. Safe to run, then. As he always did…

He caught the hint of some sound from down the street… a scuffle?

“Fenris!” came a scream from that direction, and Fenris bolted in a blind panic. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Reid had stomped out of the house without his staff, without putting on his black robe, without so much as a knife as far as Fenris knew. Defenceless, in this area where thugs regularly mugged and murdered people at night…

He came charging up to about five thugs cornering Reid, who’d put up his arms defensively and was bleeding hard from several cuts, ducking as best he could – but just as Fenris arrived, a sword pierced him in the gut and he fell with a choking gasp.

Fenris went a little berserk. He wasn’t quite sure what he did next, but what was apparent when he came to himself about twenty seconds later was that every thug was dead, either decapitated or torn in half, and his tattoos were glowing and hot.

He didn’t care about that, and flung himself down by Reid’s collapsed form, almost too scared to check his breathing. “You… stupid… idiot… mage… running out without a weapon… getting yourself killed… Oh, fuck, please don’t die… Fuck!” There was so much blood everywhere; Reid was pale and clammy, his freckles stark against his skin, and his breath was raspy.

He had a healing potion somewhere, where was it!? He pulled it out, uncorked it, and held up Reid’s head to pour it into his mouth. Reid swallowed convulsively and coughed a little, but his wounds were closing up… though there was still blood everywhere. “H-hi.”

And then Fenris lost it again. “Festis bei umo canavarum!” He swore at Reid in every language he knew, until someone opened the window overhead and told them to be quiet. Fenris flipped her off and carefully slung Reid’s arm over his shoulder, dragging him back to the mansion.

“Thanks,” Reid said, still weak, as Fenris dumped him on the floor of his bedroom and began helping him take his sliced, bloodstained tunic off. “Just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

“Shut the hell up,” Fenris returned. “You almost died, and you’re still making jokes. Don’t fucking terrify me like that.”

“I’ll stop making jokes when I’m dead, or someone I care about is in danger, and you’re perfectly fine,” Reid said, wincing as Fenris tugged his sleeve off his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to get mugged outside my own door.”

“Why didn’t you use your fucking blood magic?” Fenris demanded. “You were bleeding enough to take them down in a heartbeat.”

“I can’t just cast willy-nilly,” Reid protested. “You try casting with searing pain in your arms, no thanks.” He got quieter. “Besides, I haven’t used it since Mother died, and I’m not going to start now.”

Well, that made him feel like an insensitive idiot. “I… know that, but… your life!”

“And prove that I’m no better than the sort of mages you hate? Right after our stupid argument?”

“You stiff-necked- Why did you stomp out anyway?” Fenris growled. “It’s your house. You could have ordered me to get out. I’m armed.” Even though Reid had been the one to start the fight.

Reid looked at him with a startled expression. “I… never want to order you to do anything, Fen. I never want you to have to stop taking up the space that you’re in – unless you’re about to be caught in a rockfall or something.”

Fenris stared, his mouth hanging open. “Is… that because…” His voice was very small.

“You’ve had enough of your autonomy taken from you,” Reid said, softly. “If we need space, it’s on me to provide that. Not you, unless you make the decision for yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Fenris blurted out. “I’m sorry I struck you, I’m sorry I… everything… I still think you’re stupid and squishy but I don’t want you to almost die because of me in any way. I don’t want you to die. Use the blood magic next time. I don’t care. Please. Reid, I…” I don’t want to fight with you, was what he couldn’t say out loud, but his hands and lips could, and he near threw himself at his boyfriend, caressing his bare, healing skin, kissing him passionately. Reid wrapped him up in warm, solid arms, kissing him back. Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you.

Fenris couldn’t get enough, pressing him down to the rug – “The bed’s right there,” Reid said, and was ignored as Fenris began to trail kisses down his throat, soft and smooth, feeling his breath begin to come quick, feeling it flex as he swallowed. He found every one of the sword wounds Reid had taken and began to lick them clean – he should have gotten up to get water and a cloth, but he was here now and begrudged every second spent away from this person who loved him enough to die over the most trivial of things. Reid groaned as Fenris’s tongue passed from the outside of his arm to the inside of his arm, and from his uninjured but bloodspattered chest down lower.

“You did pretty well for an unarmed man,” he said, raising his mouth from the scar of the near-fatal gut wound, leaving a trail of saliva behind.

Reid’s pupils were fully dilated and he was full on panting between moans. “Don’t suppose I could tell you they also stabbed me in the dick.”

“No, but I’ll take care of that anyway,” Fenris said, and began undoing his belt.

 

They did end up in the bed eventually, and Reid held Fenris’s hand as they looked at each other. “I’m sorry for getting angry earlier. We haven’t had a fight like that in a while.”

“Why are you so angry, then?” Fenris asked.

Reid was silent a moment, his eyes on their hands. “I’m scared. About a lot of things. The city is sliding towards the brink of disaster and the harder I dig my heels in, the faster it goes.”

“You can’t stop it alone,” Fenris said. “And those with the power to help you have no interest in doing so.”

“It’s going to reach a breaking point soon,” Reid said. “And so am I. The question is, which will get there first?”

Fenris squeezed his hand. “You’re doing that fucking thing again. The thing where you try to take responsibility for everything in your vicinity. You’re clever, and strong-willed, and powerful, but not that much, Reid.”

“Like my father used to,” Reid said. “I’m still going to feel bad when it all explodes. That’s not all of it, though.”

“What else is there?”

“My friends are leaving me one by one,” Reid said. “Since I’ve nearly run out of family to lose, I guess fate is switching to everyone else I know. I’m… scared. I’ve never been… alone.”

“Isabela left ages ago,” Fenris said. “Who else is leaving? I didn’t hear anything.”

“Anders is… acting strange,” Reid said. “He’s up to something. I told him I wasn’t going to help him hurt people and he got all offended, like ‘not wanting to hurt people’ was a bad thing or something. He also tried to get me to break up with you but I shut that down in a hurry.”

“Fucking Anders,” Fenris growled, and shifted restlessly. “I should visit him.”

“If you visit him, I’ll regret telling you,” Reid said sternly, and Fenris settled down. “But you know I don’t much care for Sebas, and Merrill’s been distant.”

“You honestly think they’ll leave too?”

“I mean, plenty of friendships don’t last forever,” Reid said. “Sebas just thinks he can still convince me that I’m holier than I know I am.”

“I can’t answer that,” Fenris said. “I don’t think they’ll leave. Even if they do, Varric and Aveline will stand by you. I’ll stand by you. Even if we fight again. You won’t ever be alone.” You’ll never be alone like I was.

The look Reid gave him was heartbreakingly grateful, and Fenris elbowed closer to kiss him.
They lay even closer together for a while in silence, and then Reid began again in a whisper. “Hey, Fenris.”

“Mm?”

“What if… we just left?”

“Left Kirkwall? Left the coming trouble?”

“Yeah. If I can’t stop it, why should I even try? Why should I risk all our lives for something inevitable?”

“You don’t mean that,” Fenris said. “I know you don’t. You never do.”

Reid didn’t meet his eyes. “We’d be free. I’ve missed being free. I might not be in a Circle but I’m stuck in other ways.”

“It would be nice,” Fenris admitted. “I would gladly follow you, if that’s what you decide to do.”

“Thanks,” Reid said.

“Also post some fucking guards outside your door. I don’t know why you haven’t already, with all the trouble you get into.”

“Good point,” Reid said. “Bodahn and Orana could be in danger. Sandal can take care of himself-“

“And you, you fucking twit.”

“And me, I guess, I suppose,” Reid acknowledged. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I hadn’t heard you scream.”

Reid held him closer and stroked his hair. “You saved me again.”

 

Servitude

“Hey, Fen,” Reid said, looking up from his book. “Can you do something for me?”

Fenris came swiftly to the side of his chair and knelt, looking up at him with a coy little smile. “Tell me, and it is done.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Reid said. “Was just hoping you’d grab the stack of books I left in my room and bring them here so I didn’t have to get up.”

Fenris tilted his head more. “I was joking, Reid.”

“Yeah, it makes me uncomfortable. You don’t serve me.”

“No,” Fenris said, and rose to sit on the arm of the chair instead. “But if I did, it would be with an open mind and clear eyes. It would be because I choose to. Your wishes would have nothing to do with it.”

Reid frowned at him. “Even spouses don’t serve each other, not like that. I know there’s some religious cults where they try to make women subservient to men in marriage, but that’s bullshit.”

“That’s because it comes from an external source,” Fenris told him sharply. “There is not a being in Thedas that truly wants to be controlled by another – even if they pretend they find fulfillment in it to protect their egos, like the Qunari.”

“Exactly,” Reid said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it. You said you were joking.” He put a hand on Fenris’s hand. He wasn’t wearing gauntlets.

Fenris was still thinking about it, it seemed. “Even were I to wish to serve you… You fear my slavery conditioned me to want a master, like Danarius seemed to think. I can tell you unequivocally: no.”

Reid gave him a smile. “Good. I like you better bitchy.”

Fenris chuckled. “You are the only one who does, I think.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t bitchy, Fen. If you started acting like Merrill, everyone would want the old you back.”

“But bitchy or not, it is… a way I show affection, I think. To do things for you. To protect you in battle, and help you outside of it as I can. I have no gifts for you, no fine words…”

“You have plenty of fine words,” Reid said. “When the mood takes you, you say the most poetic and/or romantic shit to ever hit my ears. And let’s not forget how your touch makes me feel.”

Fenris huffed. “Or vice versa. But helping you is something I feel I have the most control over.”

“All right, would you let me do that for you?”

“You’ve always helped me, sometimes without me even asking,” Fenris said. “What more is there?”

“What if I want to serve you the way you’re joking about serving me?”

Fenris bopped him in the head with a gentle fist. “I want for nothing. You cannot serve me.”

“That’s not fair,” Reid said. “I want to reciprocate.”

“Too bad.” Fenris bopped him again, then kissed the top of his head to balance it out. Reid put his book entirely aside and reached up to drag Fenris – mildly protesting – into his lap. “Fucking-“

“Stop struggling and let me love you, dammit,” Reid growled. “Worse than a cat.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a cat,” Fenris told him. “Or wearing my gauntlets.”

“My face is too pretty for you to scratch it up, shut up.”

Fenris took a moment to look at him. At the constellations of freckles, the golden-brown eyes with the mischievous laugh deep inside them, the dark red hair with a few silver strands. “No one’s prettier. Hold still.”

 

Tranquil

“You heard what they were saying about the Fereldan Circle,” Fenris said. “Even when the Circle works, it doesn’t work. But it’s better than just letting them roam free.”

“What, at least then they only hurt other mages?” Reid raised an eyebrow, and Fenris knew that he’d pissed him off, even if their conversation together was still calm and even, unlike last time. “Fen, most mages aren’t power-hungry dickheads.”

“Well, some of them are, and they can’t just be let loose.”

“Didn’t think you hated my sister and Merrill that much,” Reid said.

“I don’t hate them,” Fenris said. A step up, to admit it. “I never knew your sister, and I’m sorry you lost her. But look – Merrill is well-intentioned, but she’s a blood mage, maybe worse, and her assurances that she can control it aren’t very reassuring when she can barely understand or control anything else in her life. And Anders is an asshole.”

“I’ll grant you he is,” Reid said. “Run away from his Circle seven times? He’d be made Tranquil for sure if they ever caught him again.” His thin brows lowered in an angry, depressed frown. “That’s the only option, you know, if they catch any of us. Death, or Tranquil.” His voice dropped even further. “Is that what you want for me, once Meredith figures out how to get her claws into me?”

“No,” Fenris said, shaken more than he wanted to admit. Seeing Reid sit there, vibrant and intelligent and alive, eyes that could shine bright with mischief and teasing and affection – every little thing that proclaimed he had a mind of his own, down to the way he was scratching his long freckled nose – fuck, he couldn’t imagine anything worse in his whole life than seeing that face with the dull unresponsiveness of Tranquility. And his first memory was being tortured to insanity. “No… I’ll never turn you in, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Never.”

“Love, I wouldn’t be dating you if I was afraid of it,” Reid said with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I mean, that brand with my complexion? It would really clash with my freckles.”

“Stop joking about it,” Fenris growled, cringing into himself with horror.

Reid reached out and put a hand on his. “Mages are just people, Fen. Most of them are just living with… basically a disability, and a lot of those are victimized for it. I’ll never make excuses for Danarius or his ilk. He was a monster. But outside of Tevinter, he’s not the norm.”

Fenris took a deep breath. It was hard to see nuance. He didn’t want to see nuance. But for Reid… “Well, I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks, love.” Reid pulled his hand close and kissed it. Fenris began to pull it away, but the warm pressure of Reid’s fingers was too seductive.

He huffed to himself. “Come here.” He stood, grabbing Reid’s hand more firmly, and pulled him out of his seat, drawing him into a tight embrace. With the thought of Tranquility in his mind, suddenly everything Reid did was intensely important – the way he moved, the way he breathed, how he adjusted to Fenris’s movements. Fenris rested his chin on his shoulder, but his neck was right there so he turned and kissed it, feeling his pulse quicken under his lips, heard Reid make a tiny noise of reaction.

Trying to imagine embracing and kissing a Tranquil Reid sent a shudder down his spine, and he clutched tighter, kissed harder. The redhead was helpless in his arms – he wasn’t half as strong as Fenris, physically – though he wasn’t exactly trying to get away, stroking Fenris’s hair and shoulders soothingly.

“Did I scare you?” he asked huskily, and moaned as Fenris pressed his tongue against that fluttering pulse.

“No,” Fenris lied, and he knew Reid knew it was a lie. “I just… … …I want to…” Reassure himself that Reid was real, and not lobotomized, and that he’d be with him for a while yet.

“I love you, but can you squeeze a bit less? I feel my ribs are getting crushed.”

“Come on,” Fenris said, and pulled him over to the bed.

 

The night was dark, so dark even Fenris couldn’t see anything. All he knew was that he was being followed, followed by an unstoppable force, and he was tired, and he could barely see where he was going.

The thought of fighting was not in his head. Afterwards, he would question why, but in that moment all he felt was fear. Fear that rapidly spiked into terror as a dark shape in the darkness came towards him rapidly, covered in a dark cloak. He tried to run, turned, and fell. Why couldn’t he move right? It was frustrating, like trying to move through treacle.

“There you are, Fenris,” said the voice he hoped never to hear again. “You’ll be coming home with me now, then.”

“No,” Fenris whispered. “No, you’ll not take me again.”

“You have something of mine,” said Danarius, and reached out his hand to cast a spell.

Fenris whimpered, a choked noise that grew into a scream as the spell scorched his tattoos, rippling agony through his flesh. This torment would never leave him, he was born in it, and he would die in it…

The dark figure bent down beside him as he lay helpless and writhing. “Poor little Fenris. Can’t get away. Couldn’t even if he wanted to.”

“Fuck you. I killed you!” Fenris hissed through the pain, but the mage raised his hand, and Fenris flinched away. But all Danarius did was cast a small flame, that illuminated his face…

And it was Reid Hawke’s face. Fenris cried out in sorrow and anger and loss, and suddenly he could move, pushing the figure away and scrambling to his feet, uncertain whether to fight or to flee.

Things became jumbled then, a confused whirl of light and shadow, but the next thing he saw was the Gallows – and Reid – Reid, in his normal clothes, pale under his freckles, surrounded by Templars, his hands bound behind him, doing his best to look calm and in control. But really he looked like a terrified wreck, and his gaze turned on Fenris was heartbroken and reproachful.

“No,” Fenris said, shaking his head, his hands trembling. “No. I didn’t… This can’t…”

“Reid Hawke,” Templar Alrik was reading from a big… a huge, even oversized scroll, “you are accused of the crimes of being an apostate mage, rebelling against the teachings of Andraste, and causing untold harm to the citizens of Kirkwall with gross misuse of magic. You will be immediately sentenced to Tranquility, and consigned to the Circle.”

“No,” Fenris shouted, but it seemed like no one heard him. “No! Reid!”

“Is there anything you wish to say in your defence?” Alrik asked Reid. Off to Alrik’s right, the sun brand was being prepared, glowing with magical fire.

“Only that you can all go to hell,” Reid spat back, and heaved against his captors. “Fenris! If you still love me – we can get out of this togeth-”

The redhead had nearly wrenched free from the grasping hands holding him, but two of them tackled him to the ground, bearing him down under their weight, and Reid was physically average – certainly up to walking through the mountains all day, but barely able to pick up Fenris.

Fenris was shoving through the crowd, and had this been real life, he would have drawn his greatsword and shed blood everywhere, standing over his fallen lover like the vengeful wolf that he was until they were both killed together, but his sword was not to hand for some reason and the magic of his markings was failing him, he couldn’t become semi-incorporeal and blink forward the way he ought to be able to. He was being crushed among the people – mostly Templars, and they turned to him and grabbed him, dragging him down and away. He roared, setting one foot in front of the other, striving with all his strength, fury coursing through him like a fire, but it didn’t help. Maybe he ought to have been proud of how many Templars it took to contain him, but all he could feel was failure as they pinned him down, and held Reid down on his knees, pulling his head up by the hair, pulling his hair harshly away from his forehead – his silky red hair that Fenris liked to touch when they were alone.

Reid shot him an agonized glance out of the corner of his eye – they weren’t letting him so much as turn his head – and somehow found the strength to say “I love you”, though it was hardly audible over all the shouting in the Gallows.

“Reid!” Fenris cried in despair. “No! I love you!”

The brand was brought forward, dripping with magic, and Reid could only focus on that. Closer and closer, and he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, bracing with every muscle in him, pulling away with his whole body as much as he could. Fenris wanted to look away, to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, somehow, bearing witness to every horrible second.

He knew the exact moment the brand made contact with Reid’s flesh – for the briefest instant, Reid opened his mouth to scream – and then everything went slack. The struggle ceased, the tension drained from his body, his mouth hung open loosely as if he’d forgotten what he was doing with it, and his eyes opened. He didn’t seem to feel the pain of the brand at all.

“No longer will you be a menace to society,” said Alrik. “Welcome, Reid Hawke, to the Circle of Kirkwall.” The Templars let go of Reid and he stood quietly, standing perfectly motionless, looking dully at Alrik.

“No!” Fenris screamed, and a lot of other things, and now he tore free, running towards Reid, and they let him. He was not expecting the lack of resistance, and fairly tackled Reid in the chest.

Everything went dark again, as if the sun had been blotted out, but he could still see Reid perfectly well, as if the sun still shone on him. He stood calmly, quietly, as Fenris steadied himself and reluctantly, unwillingly, looked up into his eyes. “Hello, Fenris.”

His voice was so unnatural, his face was slack and emotionless, and his eyes… they were the eyes of a dead man. They didn’t blink… they didn’t so much as twitch, the natural fluttery motions of alert living eyes. There was no lustre to the golden brown. The fresh brand was stark against the skin of his forehead.

Fenris sobbed. “Reid… Oh, Reid! How… why?”

Reid stood still in his arms, not responding. Fenris buried his nose in Reid’s neck and heard his pulse was calm and steady. He kissed it but there was no reaction.

“What’s the matter?” Reid asked in that dull monotone, and Fenris looked up into those horrible dead eyes, seeing that blank uncomprehending expression, that awful brand.

He’d seen Tranquil mages before. They had just seemed… well, tranquil. It was only seeing the difference between the before and after that showed him just what a horror this was. Tranquil Reid would never say anything interesting again; never curse and swear again; never smile or frown or kiss him again. There was no feeling, no emotion, no love or hate, no passion of any sort, no mischief or scheming, no cleverness, no energy, no soul. There was nothing but this husk with his dead face, still physically alive but – how could anyone call that living?

“Reid!” he cried out, tears running down his face. “Reid!”

He felt hands on his shoulders and struggled, tattoos flaring erratically and ineffectually, before opening his eyes into the warm darkness of Reid’s bedroom in his mansion in Hightown.

“Fenris! Fen, wake up! Maker, you’re covered in sweat – what’s wrong?”

“Reid,” Fenris gasped, and seized him in a tight embrace. “Reid!”

“It’s all right, love, I’m here,” Reid said, his deep sleepy voice murmuring in Fenris’s ear. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

Fenris couldn’t talk for a minute, clutching him as close as he could, burying his face into Reid’s chest, twining their legs together. Reid held him, stroking his hair and back.

“A nightmare,” Fenris said at last. “Two nightmares.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid said. “Will it help to talk about it?”

“Danarius caught me, but when I saw his face, it was… you.”

“Well fuck,” Reid said, though Fenris could tell that had startled him. “Have I been using too much magic recently?”

“It’s not like you can hold back, with the things we’ve been fighting,” Fenris grumbled into his armpit. “The other one was… they caught you and made you Tranquil.”

“Shit. That’s because we were talking about it, isn’t it? I’m sorry. We won’t talk about it anymore.”

“I brought it up the first time,” Fenris said. “It’s not your fault. But fuck, it was awful. To see…” He couldn’t talk about it.

Reid soothed him. “It’s all right. We’re together, here and now, and you’ll never let that happen to me.”

“Not without dying first,” Fenris whispered fiercely. “I don’t fucking care that you’re a mage anymore. No one’s allowed to take you from me. I’ll protect you with all my strength.”

“Can I get that in writing?” Reid asked, and Fenris laugh-sobbed into his shoulder. “D’you want me to whisper stupid nothings in your ear so you feel I’m really all right?”

“Isn’t the normal human expression ‘sweet nothings’?” Fenris asked, pulling back so he could look into his eyes. It was almost completely dark, only embers left in the fire, but he still wanted to see the life in them. He could just catch the wry affection on his face, and the feeling of that warm body against him, responsive and secure, was comforting.

“Sure, but it’s me. Sweet things turn stupid when I say them. Especially when I’m half-awake at three in the morning. You think ‘sweet nothings’ are stupid too.”

“I’ll listen to them anyway,” Fenris said. “Have at it.”

“You’re as beautiful as the moon,” Reid said immediately. “Your eyes are like gems, only far more precious because gems are replaceable and your eyes aren’t.” Fenris snorted. “Hey, I’m only just getting started.”

“All right, you can stop again,” Fenris said, and kissed him. Those lips were warm against his, that breath just slightly uneven-

And then Reid was kissing him like he’d kiss away every nightmare in the world all at once, rolling over on top of him, kissing not just his mouth but his forehead and nose and throat – and heading lower, plying his tongue and teeth along with his mouth.

Sex wasn’t everything in a relationship, but fuck it made Fenris feel more whole than he had any right to be.

 

Queen Anora

Reid was very surprised to walk into the Viscount’s Keep one day and nearly bumped into a guard who saluted him. “Champion, serah! Your presence is requested in the Viscount’s office.”

Reid blinked. “Why, is there a new viscount? Does Bran no longer hate me? Is it someone’s birthday?”

“A summons from the Queen of Ferelden, serah.”

“Queen Anora? What would she want with me…?” Reid had to remind himself that he wasn’t a nobody peasant from Lothering anymore. He followed the guard up the stairs to the left and around to the office where he hadn’t been in years.

“Serah Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, Your Majesty,” announced the guard, bowed, and closed the door behind him.

Queen Anora rose from behind the desk. She was even more beautiful than Reid had heard, with her smooth, shining golden hair bound tightly around her head, but her light blue eyes were fierce as a warrior. Well, she was Teyrn Loghain’s daughter. “Greetings, Champion. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty,” Reid said with a proper bow. He’d been resistant when his mother had tried to teach him etiquette on moving to Hightown, but he hadn’t been expecting to meet someone he actually respected. “What can I do for you? It’s not often I get called on to meet with foreign leaders.”

She gave him a calm, but calculating look. Trying to judge how foolish he might be from his increasingly informal tone. Apparently she didn’t mind what she saw. “I will get right to the point. I know you came here from Lothering. A Fereldan refugee who did well for himself, against all odds. I am hoping your influence in Kirkwall might be of use.”

“In what manner, Your Majesty?”

“Allow me to explain the situation, if you are not already aware. Things are still… problematic with Orlais. Without a viscount here, there is only the Knight-Commander to treat with, and though she is a strong woman, I… do not fully trust her to act in the interest of the city.”

“You don’t agree with her on the treatment of mages?” Reid asked, a little sardonically.

“I believe that it is safest if mages are taken care of by a Circle, despite the near-collapse of the Ferelden Circle during the last Blight,” Queen Anora said, and his heart sank. “However, I do not think her heavy hand is the best approach. I understand what she is trying to do, and why, but tyrants inspire uprisings, as I know from personal experience myself. The instability caused by the lack of the viscount is an excuse, but a poor one.”

“People always leave when they don’t feel safe,” he said. “A lot of your people besides me fled to Kirkwall during the Blight, you know.”

“I know,” Queen Anora said. “I wish I could have protected them more. The Blight devastated the kingdom, and our problems persist.” Her blue gaze was keen. “Any Ferelden refugees are welcome back, as are you. But with your current situation, would you still consider it home?”

Reid had to think about that. “Lothering is gone forever, but I still miss Ferelden. Yes. I’ve made a place for myself here, but Ferelden is still… home.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Anora said. “I hope you may return someday. We could use someone like you.”

“In a war?” Reid asked shrewdly.

“I hope not, but I am not so naive as to be optimistic,” Anora said. “Empress Celene does not have perfect control of her court, and many Orlesians yet desire to reclaim their lost province, the land my father fought to free from them. It may yet come to that. And if it does, we will be hard put to it once again.”

“And you need Kirkwall to be stable so you don’t have to worry about that blowing up on your border while Orlais is rattling their sabres,” Reid guessed. “I think I understand, Your Majesty. What is it you want me to do?”

She nodded regally. “Protect Kirkwall. It will take someone of your skill and calibre to keep it from falling apart if things continue as they stand.”

“Just me standing between the city and disaster, huh?” Reid asked with resignation. “Not Grand Cleric Elthina?”

“Grand Cleric Elthina is perhaps the only reason the city has not already erupted into conflict,” Anora said. “But she cannot do it alone, and I do not think that when matters come to a head, she will take decisive action. So I turn to you, for you have already shown yourself capable of decisive action.”

He sighed and began to confess. “I have been trying, but I see it deteriorating before my eyes and frankly, it’s… difficult to persevere. Nothing I do seems to help, and – perhaps you know – I’m an apostate myself, so Meredith has absolutely no reason to listen to me.” He didn’t say that he’d been thinking of leaving, but his tone probably did.

“I don’t know how you think of me,” Anora said. “If you yet love Ferelden, I ask as your queen. If you love Kirkwall, I ask as a concerned ally. In either case… please.”

A queen had said ‘please’ to him, that didn’t happen every day. His queen, of whom he’d never heard anything but great respect and praise, and who upon meeting met him with no nonsense, only a calm will and a warrior’s dignity. “I will do my best, Your Majesty.” He raised his head to meet her eyes, and… her approving and grateful smile gave him strength.

 

Alistair

The Hanged Man was abuzz with… something, when Reid walked in. The first thing he noticed as being out of place were the Wardens hanging around the bar. Carver was not among them, and Reid suppressed a sigh. With the number of times he had coincidentally run into Carver on Grey Warden business, it wasn’t a surprise that he might occasionally meet Wardens who were not Carver. He sidled up to the bar and waved for a drink from Corff. “Now, I’m sure you’ve been asked a million times, but what brings a bunch of Grey Wardens to the Hanged Man?”

“Drinks, of course,” said the closest man to him impishly. “What else is there here?”

“Not much,” Reid said. “The whorehouse is in Hightown.”

“Good to know, good to know,” said the man. “I’m Alistair, by the way.”

“Reid.”

“Good to meet you! You’ve got a Ferelden accent?”

“Escaped with my family during the Blight. I’m from Lothering originally.”

“Oh, I passed through Lothering! Me and Elizabeth, just after we escaped from Ostagar!”

Reid nearly fumbled his mug. “So you’re – Alistair Theirin, huh? One of the Heroes of the Fifth Blight?”

“Oh, Maker, that sounds so much better than ‘son of Maric Theirin’,” Alistair said in relief. “For a minute, I was worried.”

“Wait, what? I didn’t know about that part. But a Warden named Elizabeth… I’ve heard a lot about her.”

“Yes, she’s great. I don’t know how she did it.”

“You were there,” Reid retorted.

Alistair grinned. “And I still don’t know how she did it! She’s got a knack for heroism! Say, how are you doing here in Kirkwall? I’ve heard a lot of refugees have faced immense difficulties.”

“I’m a rare case,” Reid said. “Managed to make a place for myself in the upper crust – not that I care for them. My mother was related to a noble family here, you see.”

“Did well for yourself, huh!” Corff said. “’E’s the bleeding Champion of Kirkwall for driving out the Qunari three years ago, Mesere Alistair!”

“What!? Oh, I’ve heard of you!” Alistair cried, brightening up like a puppy. “Although in the tales, they said you punched the Arishok’s head clean off. Is that – that can’t be true, is it?”

“Ha! Fuck no. Look at my arms.”

“So how did you…” Alistair was enthralled.

“If you don’t know, that’s a secret,” Reid said with a wink meant to disarm Corff as well as Alistair. “I’m cleverer than I look, though.”

“You look pretty clever to me,” Alistair said. “C’mon, I won’t tell. Well, maybe I’ll tell Elizabeth. But she’s absolutely trustworthy. I swear.”

Reid looked at him for a long moment. The Wardens weren’t against mages, were they? Anders had been a Warden. “Oh, all right. But in private, mind.”

“You are my new best friend,” Alistair said. “C’mon up to my room for a bit, tell me more.”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather come over to my house? Bit of a walk, but I have drinks there too.”

“Sure, we’re off-duty for the rest of the day.”

“And it’s quite close to the market, the viscount’s hall… or the Blooming Rose, if that takes your fancy.”

Alistair raised a roguish eyebrow. “Oh? You go there often?”

“Not since I met my boyfriend,” Reid said, with an involuntary grin.

“Congrats. I’m not that interested right now, and I’m not sure how the women in my life would take it, so… pass, but thanks. Do you have any cheese?”

“We can get some on the way through the market, because I have no idea,” Reid said.

Bodahn and Orana were a bit surprised at him bringing a random new friend home, but cleared off understandingly. Reid let Alistair admire the crests and fireplaces and bookshelves for a bit before getting into: “The way I killed the Arishok is pretty easy to understand if you happen to know what I am; otherwise it’s completely incomprehensible.” Given that he just looked like a civilian.

“Huh?” Alistair scratched his head. “What, you’re a mage?”

Well, he wasn’t stupid. “Yes. An apostate, so if you’d be so kind as to not spread it around…”

“Oh, certainly. We met with that Knight-Commander Meredith woman, and she was intense.”

“Oh, Meredith knows. But not everyone does, and that part of the story seems to have gotten lost or distorted from the few eyewitnesses who survived, so keeping it on the down-low would be nice.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. So how’d you take him down? Fireball? Grasping vines?”

“Entropy and Lightning, mostly,” Reid said. “Slowed him down enough to keep away from him, zapped him until he stopped coming after me. Maybe it wasn’t a fair fight, but if he got close enough to swing that big fucking axe…”

“Enough said,” Alistair said. “So Meredith knows you’re an apostate, and hasn’t brought you in because public opinion is so much in your favour?”

“Exactly. It’s impossible to get her to ease up on any of the mages under her thumb, though.” Reid paced a little, then reined himself in. “Sorry. It’s all anyone’s fucking talked about since that day, is mages and Templars. I won’t bore you with it.”

“It’s fine,” Alistair said, making himself comfortable in a big chair with his drink and his plate of cheese. “I was going to be a Templar for a bit, but I… never fit in. And today I certainly don’t feel the same way about mages as the Chantry does.”

“How’s the Circle in Ferelden?” Reid asked. “My father was originally Fereldan, came here, escaped from the Circle here to elope with my mother back to Ferelden. They worked hard to keep me and my late sister out of it, and coming here, it’s not hard to see why. And I have a…n acquaintance from the Fereldan Circle, but he’s a gigantic ass so I’m not sure how much to believe anymore.” Reid was not given to randomly spilling his life story to just anyone he met. But Alistair was so disarming he ended up telling him a lot more than he intended to.

“Oh, the Circle in Ferelden isn’t terrible, as far as Circles go, though it isn’t perfect either. I don’t blame anyone for wanting to get away. But it’s not like here. And the rebuilding after the Blight has been… well, not exactly smooth anywhere, even so many years later.”

“I know Lothering’s pretty well toast,” Reid said sadly. “I’ve heard of what a Blight does to a land, even if the people get away.”

“Yeah… it wasn’t something I’d want to return to, not when I remembered it as it used to be.” Alistair grimaced sympathetically. “I mean, you’re still welcome back in Ferelden, if you wanted to come back. Though after all this time, would you still feel it was home?”

Reid thought about that, leaning back in his own chair for a minute or two. Alistair ate his cheese. “I think so. Yes. Kirkwall has good people in it, and of course the rich asshole house is nice to have, but… I was happy in Lothering, in a cottage, among the people there. It was home.” He grinned at Alistair. “Kirkwall’s muddy, but it’s not grey enough.”

“Ha! Well said. Well, if you were ever to come back, we could use someone like you.”

“Someone who takes on Qunari leaders in single combat and then cheats his way to victory?” Reid asked sardonically.

“Well… Uh… Someone with skill, and the cleverness to use it,” Alistair amended. “But things aren’t exactly stable down south, either in Ferelden or in Orlais. A lot of Orlesian nobles think it would be grand to get their lost province back. Anora and Celene are in talks to keep things steady, I’m aware, and I’m pretty sure there won’t be a war… but my uncle disagrees. I really don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“A war would certainly put our own problems in perspective,” Reid said and sighed. “Kirkwall is on the brink of… something. I’m doing my best to keep it from sliding into oblivion, but I’ve been losing heart. I’m about ready to run away with my boyfriend and just let things happen as they will.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Alistair said. “Kirkwall falling apart would be catastrophic for the Free Marches. If there’s anything you can do to protect it…”

“Just me standing between the city and disaster, huh?” Reid asked.

Alistair sighed. “I’ve been there. It isn’t pretty. Just… do what you can to prevent chaos from running rampant. Please. We – everyone – really needs it, if there’s anything you can do to mitigate it even a little. Not expecting miracles, just…”

“Chaos is fun, though,” Reid said. “A little anarchy would be good for these fucking nobles. It’s the destruction and death that I’m not a fan of. Especially when it’s the death of mages, brought on by the destruction caused by mages, brought on by the oppression against mages. I’m not advocating for becoming like Tevinter. I have first-hand evidence for how awful that is. But the current situation can’t stand. Any advice for talking down obstinate totalitarian bitches? Because unless she changes, everything I try is useless.”

“Sorry, no,” Alistair said. “I’m very good at pissing off authority figures, but not so good at changing their minds.”

“Hey, me too,” Reid said. “We should start a club.”

Alistair seemed to be taking him seriously.

 

Eluvian

“So we’re going out to Sundermount so that Merrill can summon a fucking demon,” Fenris said in disbelief. “This is it. This is madness. I’m not going. This is stupid.”

“It’s incredibly stupid,” Reid agreed. “And we’re not letting her do it alone.”

Fenris paced through the alley. He knew as well as anyone that Merrill, for all she was as naive as a damn infant, was stubborn enough to go ahead and do this on her own, no matter the cost to herself.

And he didn’t hate her, despite her blood magic-and-demon-consorting magey ways. He couldn’t help lecturing her on her foolishness, and she couldn’t help lecturing him on his ignorance and apathy towards his own race, and Reid occasionally kept stepping in between them to protect her… But she did seem to care for him, in her own way. And he didn’t really want to see her hurt. Even if he was all in favour of just smashing her stupid mirror so she wouldn’t be able to go ahead with her dangerous project. But Reid was all ‘ooooh, history’, and insisted on helping… up until this point, when he was still insisting on helping, just… not for the history at this point. Just on the chance that they’d have to save Merrill’s life.

“I fucking hate it when you’re right,” he said finally.

“But I’m always right,” Reid said with a smug grin, and Fenris grumbled incoherently.

“She’s going to owe us,” he said.

“We’ll see. It might still not come to that.”

 

It came to that, and then some. “I should have guessed you’d turn on her, you monster,” said one of the Dalish, Ineria, to Merrill, who flinched with tears in her eyes.

“The Keeper took the demon into her of her own choice,” Reid said sharply – if they wanted to fuck with Merrill, they’d have to go through him.

“There would have been no demon if it weren’t for this little flat-eared bitch!” shouted the elf, and her companions drew their weapons.

“We’ve suffered enough because of this traitor,” shouted another one… Fenarel. “It ends now!”

Reid whipped out his staff and sent a lightning bolt past Fenarel’s ear. “Don’t move, or you’ll be the ones to die,” he called. Fenris and Varric raised their weapons with them, but no one attacked yet.

“No, no,” Merrill whispered behind him. “What’s happening? Fenarel, Ineria, please stop…”

“There’s been enough death today,” Reid said, staff ready, not moving. “There’s no need for any more.”

“She’s the reason Marethari is dead!” hissed Ineria. “She deserves to die!”

“It’s true about Marethari,” Reid said, and Merrill flinched again. “But that was her choice, because she wanted Merrill to live. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you try to hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re outnumbered, human,” Fenarel growled.

“I’m also a fucking mage; numbers mean nothing to me,” Reid snapped. “Go home. Pick up your lives and rebuild somewhere else. I don’t want to hurt you. Let us pass.”

He took a step forward, and then another. The elves watched him with unbridled hatred, but they didn’t move.

Until Merrill tried to pass by them, and Fenarel lunged with a cry of rage, sword raised high. Varric’s bow snapped, and Fenarel fell on his face with bolts in his throat.

“No! Fenarel!” Merrill cried, but the elves screamed as one and charged.

 

Reid took Merrill to his home – he doubted she would want to spend the night in her own home with the mirror, a cold reminder of everything that had happened – and set her up in the guest room… and then collapsed into his own bed.

Fenris followed him on silent feet. “You’re not all right.”

“No.” The entire clan had slaughtered themselves against the three of them. Every last one of them. There had been no need for that. They didn’t have to keep hurling themselves into Fenris’s sword or Varric’s arrows or Reid’s lightning storm – which he’d put up as a barrier, and yet they’d tried to run right through it. Like suicidal idiots. As if that would bring back their Keeper. Merrill hadn’t fought, standing in numb shock in the back, simply clutching her staff and watching the carnage unfold before her. If they’d reached her, she wouldn’t even have defended herself.

He was tired of it all. “What’s the fucking point of doing fucking anything? No one ever listens to me, and people die, and I can’t stop it no matter what I do.”

 

“I don’t know,” Fenris said. He really didn’t know. Reid was bitter as old vinegar tonight, and this was all mage shit, and he’d thought it was a terrible idea in the first place. “All we did was what we set out to do. We saved her life. You couldn’t know – no one knew that would all happen.”

“Stupid,” Reid muttered, running his fingers along his left wrist. There were a few scars there, but the biggest, Fenris knew, was from when his mother had been murdered.

Fenris hated seeing him like this. And he was worried that he was going to see him more like this, until the tension between the mages and the Templars finally erupted – because there was no way that was resolving peacefully at this point. And then depending on the outcome… would Reid still be the same person when all was said and done? Or would he be as broken as Fenris?

All he could do was stand by him and observe. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

That melted Reid a little, and he took his hand from his wrist. “I love you too.”

“Get some rest,” Fenris told him. “You will be all right.”

“I’m not sure I want to be all right. Not after what happened.”

Fenris sat down beside him and stroked his hair. “That’s one reason that I love you.”

“Why? Because I’m fucked in the head?”

How to say ‘because you don’t throw away lives needlessly, like a magister’? “No. Because you care.”

“If I cared less I would have listened to you and broken the stupid mirror.”

“I thought you were always right,” Fenris couldn’t help saying.

Reid slumped into him. “Don’t listen to me when I’m being cocky. Maker, everything falls apart around me. How does Queen Anora expect me to save this city? I can’t even help my friend.”

Fenris was silent in thought for a minute. “By doing what you do best – interfering to help the helpless, the vulnerable, the voiceless.”

“Do I? Or do I just make things worse for them? Fuck, the clan probably counted as vulnerable – how many Dalish are there in this area?”

“You make a difference,” Fenris insisted, his voice lowering the more personal it got. “You saved me, you know. So many times over. Not just keeping me alive, but pushing me to look beyond survival. And even those who aren’t as close to you… There are many people in this city who directly owe their lives or something precious to them to you. You just can’t save the entire world by yourself. Stupid mage.”

“It still feels like one step forward, two steps back,” Reid said.

“That’s life,” Fenris said wryly. “Life keeps itself in balance. For every kindness you do, someone does a cruelty. For every person you are in time for, there is someone else you will not be. You can’t stop it. You can only counteract it. And you do.”

Reid was silent. We were the ones who did the cruelty today.

“We didn’t try to kill them,” Fenris said quietly. “You tried to get away peacefully. We defended ourselves. This was beyond your control. It’s. Not. Your. Fault.”

Reid sighed. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“It is. And the road to recovery is paved with sleep.” Fenris pushed him over onto the bed pointedly.

“Sleep. Yes. I guess.”

 

Mark of the Assassin

“Why are we going to Orlais?” Fenris asked wearily. “Now?”

“Because everyone needs a vacation from Kirkwall’s insanity. We’ll only be gone for a month.”

“A month is more than enough time for the city to go completely mad.”

“I know – and?” Reid had a stubborn glint in his eye.

“I thought you were being the responsible one in the city.”

“Well. Yes. But I’m going to risk it. The invitation’s only good for when it’s good.”

“And why do I have to go?” Fenris asked. “I don’t want to be stuck in a castle with a bunch of stupid nobles. You’ve told me Orlesian nobles are worse than Kirkwall nobles, and I can’t stand them.”

“But you’ve never been to Orlais itself, have you?” Reid asked.

“Not the point. I’m not that interested in travel.”

“But you know random things about random cultures.”

“By necessity.”

“Look,” Reid said. “There will be free food, free drink, and we can have sex in someone else’s bed. What more do you want?”

Fenris rolled his eyes. “What more do you want?”

“I have a list. But it’s not bad, right?”

Fenris sighed. “You know I’m not going to let you go alone. Your smart mouth will get you into trouble sooner or later.”

“That’s the spirit!” Reid said.

 

A few weeks later, the gang was camped on a roadside outside the castle, sans Tallis, who had gone her separate way.

“Well, there was free food,” Fenris said. “Most of it much tasting like weird shit that rich people convince themselves they like because it was expensive to make for no reason.”

“And free drink,” Reid put in. “Which was pretty good, you have to admit, even if it’s not Aggregio.”

“But we didn’t get anywhere close to the sex before you started getting in trouble,” Fenris said.

“If you’d shown up sooner (and we got Tallis to give us space) we might have been able to have kinky dungeon sex-“

“Varric, stop scribbling!” Fenris barked.

Varric cackled. “With how thirsty you two are for each other, my readers will never believe you didn’t smash at least once on this trip. Really? You had nothing?”

“Well, on the way here, but-“

“I promised Fenris we could screw all over fancy Orlesian sheets, and now he’s disappointed,” Reid said.

Varric rolled his eyes. “Oh, if that’s all, there’s a very fine whorehouse in the next city that should be able to lend you two a room for a bit. Best sheets in the land.”

“I’m not that desperate,” Fenris said.

Reid looked up at him and laughed, and Fenris let himself smile. “It doesn’t really matter, does it, love?” Reid said. “I’ll sleep with you anytime, anywhere, under any conditions…”

“Heavy… breathing…” Varric wrote down.

“Please don’t,” Fenris said to Reid. “I don’t need sex to follow where you lead. I was teasing.”

“I know.” Reid took his hand. “And I’m grateful.”

Fenris leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “Just stay alive, stupid mage. You’re so damn fragile.”

Reid grinned. “Not so fragile you can’t slam me into a tree. Come on. I’ll make it up to you right now.”

“Reid-“

“You kids have fun in the woods,” Varric said. “I’ll be right here. Watching for wyverns. Writing down what you’re probably doing.”

“Fuck off,” Fenris said, as Reid took him by the hand and led him off between the trees.

 

Part 6