#protect writes

[protect-him]

For DADW “You did WHAT?”

For @dadrunkwriting

I actually have no idea what this turned into. All I know is it's fenders and these two have been very busy developing distant feelings and telling no one, as per usual.

“You did WHAT?”

Anders grabbed his best friend’s arm and shook him.

“Garret Fucking Hawke.”

Hawke grinned, that shit-eating grin that had gotten Anders and himself into so much trouble—and so much fun—over the years.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite Fenris. You have to be joking.”

“Look, I know you think he’s pretentious and arrogant.”

“He is.”

“But he wasn’t doing anything, he was asking about how your studies were going, and I thought I’d invite him to your graduation ceremony.”

“From the fucking University of Mage Arts.”

“Sure, why not?”

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know they have demonstrations scheduled. Magic demonstrations. And I’m doing one of them.”

“Exactly! Let Fenris see what magic can do.”

“He knows what it can do. It did worse things to him than ever came out of the Maker’s bum.”

Hawke burst out into laughter.

“Hawke, this isn’t funny!”

“Anders, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be sitting next to him, he knows there are going to be demonstrations. I’m not that dense.”

“Pretty damn close to it,” Anders muttered, cramming his graduation cap on his head.

“Hey, in all seriousness.” Hawke put a hand on the silky fabric covering Anders’ shoulder. “I know what this means to you. I wouldn’t have invited Fenris if I didn’t think he’d be respectful and decent.”

Anders sneered doubtfully, but remained silent.

“Besides, he’ll come to the Hanged Man with us after, and the more the merrier!”

Anders rolled his eyes.

“Go on, get out, I need to prepare the rest of my spells for the demonstration.”

Hawke waved and ducked out of the classroom where Anders was preparing for the ceremony. Anders only had a short speech to do, and then there were seven demonstrations, his spirit healing demonstration last of them all, being one of the most promising theses being presented this year.

As Anders mounted the steps to stand backstage while the presenter before him flourished and threw sparkles into the air above him to finish his demonstration, Anders smiled. Of course! Everyone who came to see the graduation ceremony had to sign a consent form to be possibly affected by magic. There was no way Fenris would have signed that form. He gave Dorian a cheerful smile as they passed each other, and Anders stepped onto the stage. His smile wilted as he looked to where Hawke’s arms waved in the air, giving him two big thumbs up. And next to him sat Fenris. Anders couldn’t see his face beneath the bright hair, but he imagined Fenris glaring at him. He swallowed and refreshed his smile for the audience.

His professors all sat in the front row and eagerly clapped as Anders gave the very short version of his thesis, hopefully in words that even grumpy mage-haters like Fenris could understand. At some point he forgot about Fenris, caught up in explaining how spirit healing could help with medical procedures, calming and numbing spells to act in place of anesthetics.

“For my demonstration, I am going to perform a spell that I’ve been working on,” Anders announced. “Panacea is defined as something which cures all ailments. My altered Panacea spell does not cure anything, but it is a soothing spell which will ease pain. If anyone in the room is experiencing a headache or some other pain, you will most likely feel it easing, or perhaps leaving entirely. I’ve been modifying this spell to be unintrusive, unnoticeable, and to extend over a greater distance. Though, for theatrics, I have included some lights.” He grinned and widened his stance to begin casting. Panacea didn’t really take much to cast, it was simple, but for the sake of demonstration, he added some flair and a sparkling green glow. The movements of his arms did help him to cast the spell further, so that it could reach the entire room.

Silence fell as the spell settled over the audience. Anders knew it was working, he could feel the spell soaking into the audience, doing its quiet and gentle work.

“It will last through the end of the ceremony,” he said, giving a bow. His professors jumped up, clapping for him. Hawke did as well. Fenris did not, but he was clapping along with the audience. That was something at least. Anders smiled and waved as he left the stage. There were a few other short speeches, but Anders didn’t listen, he was too excited to pay attention.

Anders changed out of his graduation gown and cap and went out to meet Hawke and Fenris. Hawke designated Anders to ride in the passenger seat, and Fenris sat in the back.

They arrived at the Hanged Man.

“Anders, may I ask you something?” Anders was surprised to hear Fenris from the back seat.

“Uh, sure.”

Fenris glanced at Hawke.

“I’ll meet you two inside,” Hawke said, handing Anders the car keys.

“You’ve been quiet,” Anders said, once Hawke had disappeared inside.

“I was thinking,” Fenris said, his eyes fixed on his knees.

“I admit I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Anders said. “Hawke said you’d agreed to attend, but I assumed you wouldn’t sign the consent form.”

“The spell you used.” Fenris looked up at him.

“My Panacea spell?”

“Yes.”

“It didn’t hurt, did it?”

“No, it—” Fenris grimaced and looked down again. “It worked.”

“Good!” Anders smiled. “I didn’t go back for my Masters for nothing.”

“I did not know I was experiencing pain,” Fenris said.

“Wait, what?!”

“It was gone,” Fenris said, his brows furrowing. “This ache.”

“Where?” Anders was trying to run through possible scenarios where Fenris would be in constant dull pain.

“The markings,” Fenris said, as if it should be obvious.

“The… tattoos?”

“They are lyrium. The experiments I was involved in were more involved than simple tattoos.”

“H-how?” Anders was twisting in the seat now, trying to get a better look. Fenris was still leaning back in the seat, not exactly forthcoming with information. “Do you mind if I look?”

Fenris held his breath for a long moment, and then sighed.

“Alright.”

Anders climbed between the two front seats, his long legs flopping awkwardly as he wriggled through the small space.

“You could have gone around,” Fenris said.

“I know,” Anders said, chuckling, “I don’t care too much if I look ridiculous. Now, can I see?”

Fenris pushed up his sleeve and held his arm out.

Anders frowned. They really weren’t tattoos.

“And they hurt?”

“They... ache,” Fenris said, “though I did not realize.”

“Maker,” Anders muttered. “I am surprised you even agreed to come.”

“I do not wish to be a bigot,” Fenris said, his voice softening as he looked away.

“I don’t think...ah, okay I used to think so. I apologize,” Anders said. “I don’t even think I can do anything to help with your...”

“Markings,” Fenris supplied. “I apologize as well,” Fenris said, turning back to Anders, and finding him surprisingly close.

“Oh,” Anders said, finding those green eyes uncomfortably close and wide.

“I was unfair in my judgment of you as a mage,” Fenris said. Anders could only look at his lips.

“It’s behind us now,” Anders said. “Thank you for coming. It...meant a lot to me.” He watched Fenris swallow, his eyes not leaving Anders’ face. Could Fenris feel the tension as well?

“I am grateful to Hawke for inviting me,” Fenris said. He grabbed Anders’ hand. He could feel Anders’ stiffness.

“I am not fragile,” Fenris said, rubbing a thumb over the back of Anders’ hand. “May I kiss you?”

“Me?”

“Is there another Anders in here?” Fenris raised one brow, smirking.

“Just the one, as far as I know,” Anders said. “And you may, though I might get feelings if you do.”

“Well, then we’ll have something in common if that is the case,” Fenris said, reaching up with his other hand to tangle his fingers in Anders’ hair and pull him closer to kiss him. Anders’ eyes were gold and unfocused when they pulled apart.

“Hawke’s going to wonder if we killed each other,” Anders murmured.

“Do you dislike the idea of … this?” Fenris asked.

“The opposite, actually,” Anders said. “I was just thinking my life was about to get boring now that I have my Masters. I think I could use some excitement to keep me on my toes.”

“And I’ve been thinking about getting a cat,” Fenris said, grinning.

“Now I know this can’t be real.”

“Need me to pinch you?”

“I think a kiss would suffice.”

[protect-him]

“Ask me again.” for Anders/Fenris? 💜

Alright! I was finally able to finish another one! This one had to simmer a bit, but I finally came up with an idea, and then it just spilled out so fast. I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the prompt!

For @dadrunkwriting

A Tevinter elf and a tall mage with hair like a summer sunset walked into a diner.

The juxtaposition would have been unremarkable if not for the fact that Fenris and Anders were not friends. At least they weren’t friends the last time Varric checked, which was rather recently. He was not one for peeking around corners or watching from a distance. He would much prefer to just walk up and bluntly ask what they were doing walking into his diner together. Normally people went outside to fight, not into reputable establishments. Something held him back. He took a seat in an inconspicuous booth and concealed himself behind a menu. Fortunately, the two seemed preoccupied.

They were both a bit nervous. Fenris had a way of shifting back and forth on his feet when he was uneasy, and Anders was an open book. He was fiddling with his hands, and his hair, and his shirt, picking cat hair off of it. They were seated near one of the windows, at a small table. They sat across from each other, glanced briefly at their menus, and ordered drinks.

Fenris continued to peruse the menu, while Anders took one glance and set his menu down again. He reached for the coffee he was offered desperately and took a long sniff. Fenris wanted more time to decide on food, so the server left again.

“This place looks so much more open in the daytime,” Anders said, glancing towards the inside of the restaurant before turning his eyes to the window. “First time we came here it felt a lot more crowded.”

“There were a lot of us,” Fenris commented, still looking at the menu.

A long awkward pause followed. Anders took frequent sips from his coffee. He had already had one refill by the time they ordered. A large breakfast sampler for Anders, with bacon on the side. A cold cut sandwich for Fenris, without the tomato. And drinks for both.

They talked a little as they ate, rather surprisingly. Their conversation was light and amiable. Asking about Fenris’ work, and then Fenris asking about the clinic. How was Justice? Had Fenris settled in after his move? The stuff Varric would leave out of his story. If he wrote one, of course. He never said he was writing a story, did he? He liked to put in the more exciting parts, the funny details, the drama, the tension. The way… Anders was smiling at Fenris? Varric had to do a quick double take. That’s not the way a person looks at their enemy.

“If you flutter your eyes any harder, your lids will fly off and become butterflies,” Fenris said. But without the vitriol he usually had to his voice. Instead he was smirking. Playfully? That couldn’t be right. Anders huffed, but continued to grin.

“It’s not my fault it’s so bright here by the window,” he said. “Or that you’re just that good looking.”

Varric was starting to worry that he was hallucinating. Perhaps he had keeled over and was having a fever dream.

Fenris hadn’t even tried to deny it.

Varric ordered a drink and a grilled sandwich and settled in to watch, now confident that he wouldn’t be noticed.

Fenris and Anders ate, talked, and grew less nervous as the time went on. Anders finished well before Fenris did. He got a refill of his drink and settled in, still chatting about his cats, and some of the unfortunate side effects of having them, such as fur on the carpets and blankets.

Fenris stopped eating and sat up, looking across the table at Anders.

“Do you remember one of the first questions you asked me?” he said..

Anders puckered his lips around the straw of his drink and took a noisy sip while he thought.

“‘Are you going to finish that?’” He asked. His eyes did drop down to the unfinished sandwich and fries left on Fenris’ plate.

“Not that question,” Fenris said, exasperated. But he slid his plate over and Anders seized the sandwich. “A different question.”

Anders was really thinking now.

“Not when I asked you how you felt about mages?” He grimaced, remembering how badly that had resulted. He hadn’t expected his cheeky attempts at flirting with the elf that Hawke had just introduced to their group would go quite so badly. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Ask me again,” Fenris said. He reached for his cup and directed a challenging stare at the other man as he took a long drink.

“Again?”

Anders looked at the sandwich. “Are you going to finish that?” He guessed, confused.

“The other one.”

“How do you feel about mages?”

“They can be quite dangerous,” Fenris said, folding his arms over the table and launching into his answer immediately. Anders looked worried. Fenris continued. “But so can any person. Mages have also used their talents for good things, and kindness.” His voice softened so that Varric strained to hear. He needed to hear the rest of this.

“Even though some of them talk a lot and can be rather annoying,” Fenris said.

“Hey!” Anders chuckled.

“I think I could rather like a mage, if the opportunity came up,” Fenris concluded. “And the mage was interested, of course.”

“I wouldn’t have flirted with you in the first place if I wasn’t,” Anders said. “That hasn’t changed.”

“I think I have,” Fenris said. “If you’ll still have me.”

Anders was speechless for a moment.

“If I’d known you were going to say something like that I would have worn a nicer shirt,” he finally said. “Course I would like to go out with you. Date you? You’re asking if I’ll date you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps I’d say yes then.”

“Perhaps we can arrange another meeting then,” Fenris said.

“Perhaps you want to come over to my place,” Anders countered, grinning. For someone who loved cats as much as he did, he certainly did look a bit like an excited puppy at times. He gasped. “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you?!”

“I think I could be convinced to meet the infamous Ser Pounce-A-Lot,” Fenris said. “I am fortunately not allergic. Or perhaps unfortunately.”

“Oh pooey,” Anders said, standing up abruptly and pulling out his wallet. “You and Ser Pounce are both so sassy and independent, I think you’ll get along like old mates. He’ll probably like you more than he likes me!” He went up to the front counter to pay. Fenris downed the last of his drink and stood up to follow Anders. Varric was a bit surprised they hadn’t noticed him, but then Fenris looked directly at him. And smiled.

“Your place then?” He asked Anders, as the mage finished paying.

“Why not?” Anders was blithely unaware of Varric as Fenris took his hand and they walked out together, disappearing around the corner.

Some things, Varric had to admit, were stranger than fiction. Hawke probably wouldn’t even believe him if he told on the two. No, he’d let them decide when to reveal their budding relationship to their friends. And Varric would put it in his next novel. Anders would make an excellent protagonist, after all.

[protect-him]

For the DADWC: ‘We’re actually being kind of silly for once’ kiss, for fenders please?

It's not quite as silly as I initially intended, but hopefully it's sweet enough to make up for it. Thank you! ♥

for @dadrunkwriting

Anders dreamed of the Circle, a man’s face chasing him through long, cold hallways. He woke up sweating only to find he was alone in bed. Fenris’ side of the bed was cold. The glass sliding door to their small apartment balcony was open, and the sheer fabric that hung over a part of the window blew like a ghost bride’s veil. He smelled cigarette smoke and sat up, the sheets rustling as he did so.

Fenris sat on the floor between the bed and the balcony, looking out at the orange glow from the streetlight, the brick wall of the building next to them, and the tree that grew between them.

“Nightmares?” Anders asked groggily, leaning forward to rest on his bent knees.

“Mm.”

“Me too.”

“I thought the fresh air might help. Did I wake you?”

“The cold air didn’t, but the smoke might have. How soon is ‘soon?’”

“I’m quitting next week,” Fenris said, his voice gravelly. A car sped past outside, filling the bedroom with light and noise for a passing moment. And then silence again.

“Same nightmare?” Anders asked.

Fenris grunted his assent again. He leaned forward and doused his cigarette in the lumpy clay cat ashtray Anders had made him.

Anders crawled to lie on his stomach, his elbows hanging over the edge of the bed. Fenris’ hair had an orange tint from the streetlight outside. Anders hummed. His legs were tangled in the sheets, and the cold wind chilled the exposed skin.

“I dreamed a face was chasing me,” Anders said. Fenris turned to look at Anders over his shoulder.

“A normal-sized face, or was it large?”

Anders’ lips took on a small smile. “It was as big as I was,” he said. “That sounds kind of silly when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds frightening.” Fenris’ voice had that too-serious tone that meant he also found it a bit silly, but didn’t want to hurt Anders’ feelings by saying so. Anders’ smile grew a bit bigger.

“No giant man-sized faces here, though,” Anders said. “Just a regular-sized elf. And he’s not scary.”

“I could be,” Fenris said.

“I know.”

“You could be too.”

“Am I more scary upside down?”

“What?” Fenris was taken aback by the nonsensical suggestion. “You aren’t frightening.”

“Oh no?” Anders was grinning now. He rolled onto his back and hung his head over the side of the bed.

Fenris chuckled, turning to fully face Anders.

“Now you’re just being silly,” Fenris said affectionately. “My silly mage.”

“Remember when you called me mage as an insult?”

“It doesn’t mean that anymore,” Fenris said.

“I know.” Anders was still smiling. “I don’t think I even remember what I called you.”

“I don’t think you ever tried,” Fenris said.

“I already liked you when we still fought,” Anders said, laughing.

“What did you like about me?” Fenris asked, smirking.

“Well, your honesty,” Anders said. “And your cute ass.”

“Oh, you looked, did you?”

“You walked away from me plenty of times,” Anders quipped. “I got a great view.”

“You—”

Fenris abruptly leaned in closer and caught Anders’ laugh in a kiss. It was messy and awkward, with Anders smiling ear to ear and upside down, but it felt nice. Anders was stunned into silence.

“Didn’t expect that?” Fenris said, their faces so close now Anders could smell the cigarettes on his breath.

Anders just grinned wider. “Nope!”

“I have to keep my mage on his toes somehow,” Fenris said.

“I liked it,” Anders said. His face was starting to get red from his head being upside down. “You were actually being silly with me for once.”

“It isn’t going to happen often,” Fenris warned him.

“But now I know it can happen.” Anders rolled back onto his stomach and blinked as the blood rushed down and his ears rang for a few moments. By the time he had recovered, Fenris was standing next to the open door.

“Want me to close it?” He asked.

“Leave it open,” Anders said. “The fresh air feels nice.”

“Alright.”

Fenris rejoined Anders in bed, sliding his cold feet down against Anders’ calves and pulling at the covers that Anders had stolen once Fenris got up.

“Do you want another blanket?” Anders asked.

“I’m just going to use you for warmth,” Fenris murmured, curling to tuck his face against Anders shoulder. Anders shifted so he could put an arm around Fenris, and closed his eyes. He smiled, relishing the memory of Fenris surprising him with a kiss. His nightmare was long gone now, and he hoped Fenris’s was as well. Or would be soon. He gently kissed the top of Fenris’ head, the soft white hair tickling his nose.

“Alright, you can stop being silly now,” Fenris mumbled.

“Mmm,” Anders hummed, snuggling just a tiny bit closer. “I’m not though. That was just because I love you.”

Fenris huffed, his breath cool against Anders’ chest.

“Silly mage,” he whispered. His arm slid beneath the covers and around Anders’ waist, his palm resting gently against Anders’ back. He pulled for a moment, closing any distance left between them, and then relaxed, sighing. Anders loved to feel the small elf melt against him; it wasn’t often Fenris let himself be so soft.

Another car sped past, lights briefly illuminating the serene tableau. Both were soon asleep, the warm blanket and each others’ bodies protection enough against the cool night air. The safety, the closeness, it was a precious thing. A treasure they would not easily let go of.

[protect-him]

I love yous whispered in the dark - for Fenders? 💖

This is so late I am sorry, I had to think on it for a while, but I am so happy with the result now. I hope you enjoy these two dorks being just endlessly cute and full of feels.

For @dadrunkwriting

It’s been four hours, and the cool stone walls of the caved-in tunnel are inching closer and closer. Anders is sweating, his hair sticking to his skin as he clutches his knees and squeezes his eyes closed. The darkness. The closeness. The thin air. They haven’t heard from Hawke in hours since she went for help. Fenris is there, but he forgets, in the silences between their stretched conversations.

His breath hitches, and Fenris shifts until his knee brushes against Anders’.

Anders’ eyes snap open. He’s not alone. He’s not in the Circle. He’s not in the Deep Roads. Fenris is here with him.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” Fenris says softly, and just the sound of his voice helps to ease Anders’ anxiety.

“It’s suffocating in here,” Anders gasps, huddling into the smallest ball he can.

“I know,” Fenris said. “You aren’t alone.”

“You’re right.” Anders takes a deep breath. “Thank you.” His shoulders soften and he leans in towards Fenris.

“You mentioned that I needed to make some improvements to the mansion,” Fenris says, after a few minutes, breaking the heavy silence. Anders smiles, but Fenris can’t see it. “What do you suggest?”

“The obvious?” Anders asks, chuckling. “Or are you looking for the less obvious?”

“Start with the obvious,” Fenris says. “Assume I have no idea where to start.”

“Well, I don’t know which you should do first, removing the dead bodies in the foyer, or repairing the ceiling in your bedroom. Both of those are fairly critical.”

“I was under the impression that a window on the ceiling was a luxury,” Fenris replies.

“Perhaps an intentional one,” Anders says. “With glass to keep out the weather. You should do that. A lovely skylight, and the sunshine will give such beautiful lighting. You can lie in bed and read…”

“Together,” Fenris responds. “I wish to make it more comfortable for you, so you can stay over.”

“Fenris.”

“Hm?” Fenris smiles, reaching to put a hand on Anders’ knee, pressing his palm over the back of Anders’ hand.

Anders lowers his voice and tips his chin closer to Fenris’ ear.

“I love you,” he whispers. He doesn’t see the soft flush of a blush across Fenris’ cheeks, but he feels the elf stir nervously, and knows that Fenris is struggling to accept his affection. He sees it as all the more reason to remind Fenris that he’s absolute perfection.

“Anders, you are—”

“A sweetheart?”

Fenris snorts.

“Yes, but also I…”

Anders’ smile softens as he senses the shift in Fenris’ tone. He freezes, deathly afraid of spooking Fenris back into silence.

“I love you too,” Fenris says, so quietly and solemnly, Anders’ heart nearly bursts from his chest. He hadn’t expected Fenris to actually say those words, and didn’t need it, but hadn’t anticipated how it would feel. To hear those words.

And he finds himself hoping that Hawke waits just a little longer to show up. He’s not alone, here in the dark. Not anymore.

[protect-him]

"you got drunk and you got our doors mixed up so you woke me up at two in the morning cause you were banging on my door and trying to fumble your keys in and I thought you were trying to break in" + Fenders

Thank you for the prompt! I do love writing fenders, and I’m still thinking about my ace!Fenris soulmate AU, so wrote this as something else that could be from that AU. For @dadrunkwriting

Anders is asleep. Early, for once. And he is sleeping soundly. For once.

So when something pulls him from that sleep, he’s not very happy. Neither are the four cats currently on his bed. One more wanders in, mewing to inform him that something is disturbing her.

“I don’t think it’s an emergency, Lady Glitterfur,” Anders grumbles at the cat. “You’re easily disturbed is all.” He isn’t sure what woke him up, and he taps the phone next to his bed to check the time.

“Maker’s pits, it’s two AM,” Anders groans, flopping his face back into his pillow. “Glitter, I swear if—”

There’s a pounding at the door, interrupting him.

Anders sits up, instantly wary. No one he knows would come banging on his door unless it were an emergency. But then they would also text him that they were coming, and he hadn’t seen anything on his phone when he checked the time. He grabs it and holds it up close to his face to squint at the screen as he taps it again to check.

Nothing.

Another thump against his door and the flimsy frame creaks. Someone is fumbling with the door handle as well. No one he knows would do that. The only thing he can think of is… Templars? His heart skips for a moment. It has been a long time since he’s dealt with Templars; most Templars don’t bother with mages anymore. Being a mage had historically put people under more scrutiny, but mages are just people, and even the Templars are beginning to see that. And Anders hasn’t been involved in the Underground in years.

Anders reaches for his staff as he rolls out of bed and cautiously enters the other room, heading for the front door. Whoever stands on the other side of the door seems to have abandoned trying the door handle and is now slamming a shoulder against the door. Anders grips his staff tighter and approaches.

Readying a spell to blast back any malicious intruders, Anders unlocks the door and quickly flings it open, just as Fenris is leaning to ram his shoulder against the door again. Anders drops the spell immediately.

“Fenris?”

Fenris’s brows crease and he frowns up at Anders.

“What are you doing here?” He says, his words slurring together.

“You’re drunk!”

“Why are you in my ‘partment?” He takes a step inside, his keys jingling where they dangle from one hand.

“Fenris, you live on the second floor,” Anders says. “This is my apartment. Maker, I didn’t know you drank.” He puts a hand out to steady the elf. Seeing Fenris in this state is concerning. Fenris has always demonstrated a lot of self-control.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want to sleep here? Or do you want me to take you up to your place?” Anders isn’t sure that Fenris is listening to him. “Did something… happen?”

Fenris desperately wanted to say something, Anders could see him turning it over in his mind. He was curious what would drive Fenris to let himself get drunk, but if Fenris didn’t want him to know, it was rude of him to try to get answers.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Anders assures him, taking his arm and leading him towards the kitchen. “How about some water?”

“I don’t have much time,” Fenris says, his voice nearly breaking. Anders isn’t sure what Fenris is talking about.

“I’m sure you have plenty of time,” Anders says soothingly. “It only seems like you don’t right now.”

Fenris shakes his head, a bit too vigorously, and groans.

“It’s not worth worrying about tonight,” Anders leaves Fenris by the refrigerator and hurries to find a clean mug and fill it with water from the tap. He presses the mug into the elf’s hands. “Drink some water, you’ll feel better. I’ll get you a blanket and you can sleep on the couch.”

Fenris drinks a little, scowling into the mug as if he could make the water understand how frustrated and confused he is.

Anders nearly trips over Furry Buttcheeks as he turns Fenris towards the sofa. Buttcheeks just flicks his tail and saunters ahead of them, making no effort to move out of Anders’ path. He rolls his eyes and eases Fenris onto the couch, pulling a blanket from over the back of it.

“Finish that water,” he instructs Fenris, “and get some sleep.”

Fenris wrinkles his nose, and Anders chuckles.

“You’ll feel better if you do,” he says. “I’m going to sleep as well, but if you need anything just call.”

Fenris is still sitting there staring down at his mug when Anders climbs into bed. He can just see his shoulder and part of his head if he looks through his bedroom door into the other room. He watches Fenris take a drink from the mug, and then lies down. Perhaps he will get more answers in the morning. Most likely not, but it seems like a good sign that Fenris trusts him enough to stay the night. Anders checks his phone once more. It has only been ten minutes. He glances at the soulmate name on his wrist before he closes his eyes. Fenris. He won’t ask, but he has so many questions. Perhaps, in time, Fenris will come to trust him enough to explain further. Perhaps.