Nesting - Anders/Fenris
I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I’ve finally got around to finishing it. And, since I know you’ve been feeling down recently @starlinghawke, I thought I could cheer you up and gift you a little something.
Hope you don’t mind a little A/B/O Fenders. :)
Anders had been acting strangely this past month.
Well, a month and a half Fenris supposed, because it wasn’t until a couple weeks after Anders’ last heat that he’d become obsessed with cleaning as he sometimes was after their mating. If he were a normal Omega, Fenris might’ve suspected that the mating had done its job, but Anders was a Grey Warden.
Omega Wardens still got heats, but because of the taint that they carried in their blood, their heats were often months apart and rarely occurred with any discernible or predictable frequency. That same tainted blood, at least according to Anders, likely made Omega Wardens infertile. But that hadn’t bothered Fenris much.
At least, until he found the quilts his mate had stashed in the room next to the one they shared. He had gone in there thinking that perhaps, this was the room where he’d left his spare can of oil for his leather armor. Instead he found a floor free of glass and debris, with large rugs (clean ones, he noted) arranged neatly so that their patterns linked and matched up. The larger furniture (a desk, two tables, some chairs and several potted plants) were also cleaned and arranged neatly, though Fenris was no judge of interior decoration.
However, all this cleanliness and neatness made the messy nest of quilts on the far side of the room... that much more obvious.
Fenris stared at the nest, blinking owlishly.
He’d heard that some Omegas who couldn’t have children did this, but Anders had never been the sort. Sure, he was still prone to cleaning fits for the babies his mind wanted his body to have, but he’d never been the ‘compulsive nester’ type. So Fenris just sighed and closed the door behind him to continue searching for his armor polish and resolved to ask Anders about it later, to make sure that his mate was alright.
But then Hawke called on him for a job and he promptly forgot all about it...
...until he caught Anders adding yet another quilt to the nest another six weeks later, a large and colorful thing that he’d seen Anders eyeing in the Hightown market not more than two days past.
Fenris followed Anders with light, near-silent footsteps and he watched from the doorway as Anders fussed over the positioning of the quilts and hummed a soft, soothing tune under his breath. A lullaby, Fenris thought. And his heart ached at the thought, so he decided to let his mate know he was concerned...
He cleared his throat, though hopefully not too loud so as to startle him.
“Anders?”
Anders jumped, a soft gasp breaking the flow of the pretty tune he’d been humming, and he turned around swiftly to see his mate in the doorway.
“Fenris?”
Fenris eyed the mess of quilts that had since acquired a pallet and a small mattress since he’d last seen them.
“Anders... you know that you’re nesting, right?” Anders blinked at him, glancing at the quilts, then back at Fenris. “Is... that’s... oh.” Anders stared at the pile of quilts, suddenly looking sheepish. “I... didn’t realize. I just sort of... um...” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging the hair tie free. Fenris tilted his head as he noticed how shiny and healthy it looked. He took another glance and noted that Anders’ skin was much less pale than usual, taking on an almost golden hue.
“I’ve had nesting compulsions before,” Anders sighed deeply, “but it’s never been...” his nose wrinkled, “...this bad.”
Fenris felt Anders’ sigh deep in his bones, and he couldn’t help but relax his shoulders as he echoed that sigh with one of his own. He stepped close to Anders, pulling the man into an embrace. It was a little awkward since his mate was a good foot taller than he was, but Fenris was just tall enough to be able to comfortably bury his nose in the crook of Anders’ neck to take in his scent.
“You haven’t been overworking yourself at the clinic, have you?” Fenris asked idly. “Fatigue might be exacerbating your usual compulsions after all.” Fenris pulled away slightly and frowned at the spot on Anders’ neck he’d pressed his nose against.
Something about the scent was... different. What was it?
Anders chuckled and pulled Fenris closer against his middle, oblivious to Fenris’ confusion.
“You might be right,” he conceded, voice full of warm amusement. “I have been feeling more tired than usual. Though I’ve been eating more too. ‘m always sleepy on a full stomach.”
Pressed so tightly against Anders, Fenris could feel a little of the evidence of Anders’ aforementioned indulgences. Contentment was a good thing for his mate, though. It meant he was doing his job as Anders’ alpha, taking good care of the mage. Fenris huffed, still a little perplexed that he could tell something was off about Anders, though he had no idea what.
“Don’t you go undoing my hard work,” he growled softly, sniffing at Anders again. “Do you have any idea what a struggle it was to get you to remember to eat on a consistent basis?”
Anders laughed, a tiny little thing that transformed into a full belly laugh that pressed insistently against Fenris’ tunic. He glanced down, noticing at last that some of the extra mass around Anders’ middle seemed firmer than one would expect a few extra pounds to be. Instinctively he pawed at his mate, who finally noticed Fenris’ distraction at last.
“Hey now, what’s with the frisking? I mean I’m all for a little distraction, but I don’t know if I’m really up for indulging any breeding kinks you might’ve been hiding...”
“Hush.”
Anders blinked at him, a stupefied expression on his face.
“What?”
Fenris began fiddling with the buckles on Anders’ coat until he got it open just enough to press one of Anders’ hands against his belly.
“Feel, Anders.” His breath caught in his throat as he watched Anders’ confusion turned to understanding, then sadness tinged with pity, “Fen, you and I both know that–” Fenris cut him off as he shook his head violently, insisting again. “Anders, please. Your scent... it’s different. Feel, right here.”
Anders was about to say something, but then an expression Fenris couldn’t name flitted across his face and he gave in, indulging Fenris’ request. Fenris’ markings flared softly as Anders summoned magic to his fingers, probably for some sort of diagnostic spell.
And then Fenris heard Anders’ breath catch, and he felt his heart leap in his chest, fluttering wildly against his ribs.
“Anders?”
For a moment, Anders just stood there, eyes wide. Then he moved so suddenly that even Fenris was startled, and he spun around as his mate quickly fled the room and entered theirs.
Fenris followed without hesitation, his worry for his mate likely quite palpable. He could feel it rolling from his scent in waves, which just made him more anxious. Even in the safety of his own home Fenris hated feeling anxious. But once he reached Anders, Fenris could tell that his mate’s scent wasn’t worried exactly. Excited, almost.
That helped ease his tension somewhat.
It turned out that Anders had gone to the small alchemy table he kept in their rooms to prepare his personal potions and experiments.
“Anders, what are you doing?” Fenris grumbled, feet shuffling softly.
“Checking something,” Anders answered brusquely, mixing several liquids until he seemed satisfied. Then he grabbed a sliver of metal barely long enough to be called a knife and pressed it gently against a thumb. Fenris hissed.
“Why... why do you need blood? Anders.”
The cut wasn’t deep, Fenris noted. Blood seeped out slowly, and Anders seemed to know what he was about. He tapped his thumb against the vial three, four times before healing himself, corking the concoction and shaking it gently. He glanced over at Fenris.
“Blood can be used to determine if I’m... if an omega is pregnant. Sometimes it’s even more accurate than urine.”
“But you... didn’t you use that spell of yours?”
“I... yes, but...”
Anders met Fenris’ eyes and suddenly he understood. As accurate as Anders’ clever spell could be, they both needed more concrete proof to be sure. Fenris licked his lips and shuffled closer as he stared at the vial in Anders’ hand.
“How will we know if... if I’m right?”
The color of the vial was still swirling, shifting. Anders sighed, setting it in a vial stand to let the vial’s contents settle. He didn’t seem to have any desire to answer Fenris’ question, though. Rather he simply held his hands against the fabric of his tunic and pressed gently. Fenris sidled close and wrapped himself around his mate, taking in his scent. The change in it was heady now, almost overwhelming. But even before Anders put a hand to his mouth to cover the choked sob that escaped him, Fenris knew.
“Oh Fen, we’re going to have a baby. A baby, Fenris!”
Anders turned around in Fenris’ arms, and before he saw the tears welling in Anders’ eyes, he glimpsed the bright pink of the vial behind him.
“Just one?” Fenris purred, pressing his body against his mate’s. Anders gasped, and his scent shifted again into something more heady and intoxicating. “Well, probably, I don’t know. I mean, there’s always a chance there could be more... um...”
Anders coughed, and Fenris hummed in pleasure as his nibbling teeth at the crook of Anders’ neck drew out a low, breathy moan.
“You know, we should um... do something to celebrate, right?”
Fenris chuckled. “I can think of a few things.”
“You know,” Anders huffed breathily, “I don’t think I’d mind if you revealed anyof those potential hidden breeding kinks right about now.”
“Good.” Fenris replied, “Now let’s go celebrate.”
“W-wait, wait! I still have to finish my nest!” Anders shrieked, remembering what he’d been doing before this mess had started. But Fenris was persistent, dragging him to their bed, divesting them of their clothing as they went, finally ending with him pressing Anders against the soft, warm sheets. Fenris chuckled and drew his teeth across one of Anders’ nipples, causing Anders to buck his hips and outline the barely visible swell of his belly.
Fenris leaned back and ran his hands over it reverently. Then he glanced up and caught Anders’s gaze.
“Tell you what, if you let me keep you from your nesting for a little while, I’ll let you have these sheets when we’re done.” Fenris moved to sprawl over his mate so that he could capture Anders’ lips with a deep, consuming kiss. “It’ll have our scents all over it... wouldn’t that be better for the nest than that quilt you bought?”
Anders sighed contently, his body growing pliant beneath Fenris’.
“I happen to like that quilt. But yes, scented sheets would be a delightful addition to my collection. Oh Fen... can you believe it? We’re going to be parents!” Fenris rolled his eyes as he shifted them to their sides. Sex seemed the furthest thing from Anders’ mind now. Then he remembered who their friends were and he groaned as he pressed his face against Anders’ shoulder.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Isabela is going to make such a scene, you know.”
There was silence for a moment before Anders’ chest rumbled with laughter. “I know, I know. And Marian will insist on getting you the deed to the mansion. We can’t just keep squatting here now that we have a baby on the way, Fenris.”
Fenris groaned, but he knew that Anders was right.
“Still, do we have to tell them right away?”
“Sooner would be better than later, since it’s also probably not a good idea for me to go out hunting slavers and clearing out street gangs for a while. But I think we can keep it to ourselves for a few days.”
He nuzzled Fenris’ hair, and Fenris took this moment to resume his attacks on Anders’ chest, running his hands over the skin while curling his fingers and scratching gently along Anders’ sensitive sides. The resulting yip made the alpha in Fenris howl with delight and pleasure.
“Now, I believe we were busy with something? Celebrating, I think?”
“Oh, you’re just impossible, aren’t you?” Anders grinned.
“Insatiable, perhaps. But not impossible.”
Fenris glanced between them one more time, running his free hand over Anders’ belly slowly. He knew that it was unlikely they’d have more than one, given Anders’ biology, but Fenris had an inkling that if they could still conceive despite insurmountable odds, then a litter might not be so unbelievable either.
It wasn’t until later, when he and Anders curled up in the nest (to further infuse the blankets with their scents, Anders said) for the night, that the weight of the situation finally hit him.
He was going to be a father.
Once upon a time he hadn’t wanted children. Or a mate. His experiences at the hands of his former master had only given him the skills to maim and murder. Gentleness had never been one of his strong suits.
But Anders had showed him that he could be gentle, even kind, or tender when he wanted to be. And now Anders was carrying his litter. His children. He sighed contentedly and pressed himself just a little closer to Anders, arranging the blankets to suit his mate’s needs.
It was a good nest, Fenris thought. A good nest indeed.
