Fanfic: Fenris/Anders "A Thin Line" 6/6
Last Chapter!! AH! :( :( :(
Title: A Thin Line (Chapter 6/6)
Author: greatbriton
Rating: R (This Chapter - NC-17 For Entire Story)
Warnings: Spoilers. Spoilers For All Acts. End Game Spoilers! Dialogue and Quest. Violence.
Word Count: 5093
Pairing: Fenris/Anders
Summary: Hatred is a gateway emotion. Fenris and Anders find that there may be more than just hatred between them.
Early the next day they found Fenris’ sister sitting alone in the back of the Hanged Man. Memories had come rushing back to Fenris. Of playing with her and having her call him “Leto”. It was his name. It was a name he did not recognize that belonged to a boy long since gone.
As Fenris had suspected it had been a trap but it did not make the betrayal of his sister hurt any less. Danarius was arrogant and sure he had Fenris right where he wanted him. His former master underestimated the company Fenris now kept. Hawke, Anders and Varric stood strong behind Fenris and when the moment came fought beside him. The fight against Danarius and his men was somewhat anti-climatic in Fenris’ mind but it did not matter because he got his chance to stuff the life out of the man that had enslaved him.
Fenris was full of the power his lyrium brands gave him. How sweet it was that Danarius’ own creation would be the death of him. He grabbed Danarius by the neck and lifted him off the ground with ease. His body sang with fury and long suffered pain. Fenris crushed the man’s throat with his hand and watched the life leave his eyes. It was good and gave Fenris a satisfaction he had never felt before.
A few moments later he had come back to himself and remembered his sister. She looked at him with fear in her eyes and Fenris did not care. She had betrayed him and that was enough. His sister had given him up for the chance to become a Magister. Anders had looked surprised when it came to light that she was a mage but Fenris had no time for his companions. The hatred and anger in him left him no time because it would not stop pounding in his ears, demanding he make his sister pay for what she had done.
Hawke stopped him with strong, calm words. Varric interjected as well and Anders shook his head with eyes sadly asking Fenris to stop. Fenris did contain himself long enough to tell her to go. He kept his back to her as she headed for the exit but before her feet took her away she spoke.
“You said you didn’t ask for this but that’s not true. You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won you used the boon to have mother and I freed.”
Fenris turned around to face her, his anger replaced by fear. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Freedom was no boon. I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain.” With that she turned and left, leaving Fenris confused and desperate for memories he could not find.
Fenris felt the presence of the three men behind him and wished he were anywhere else.
“You heard what Varania said. I wanted these, I fought for them. I feel unclean like this magic is not only etched into my skin but has also stained my soul.” He bowed his head and looked at a lyrium marking on his palm. What was he if he was a man who would fight for this? He could not remember.
“Maybe that isn’t the truth,” Anders said.
“Why would she lie?” Fenris asked and nobody answered. “I need to get out of here.”
Fenris left and went immediately to the mansion he had claimed from Danarius. He found a bottle of wine and slumped down against the large bed in the dark room he had called his bedroom. Now, he didn’t know what it was. None of this was his and he wasn’t even sure he wanted it any longer.
The idea that this entire time he had asked for the lyrium to be laced into his skin, had asked to be slave to Danarius… it made Fenris feel sick. He took off the plate pieces of his armor to relieve some of the weight as if it were physical and not mental. The wine slowly helped take some of the edge off his state and he let his fall back against the mattress of the bed.
Then he heard someone knocking at the front door. Fenris didn’t move, he was in no mood to entertain a guest. He groaned when heard steps on the stairs and Anders’ voice calling for him. The light reaching into the room was dim but he saw Anders before Anders saw him. His dark boots stepped into the room and he glanced around with a worried expression on his face. Then his eyes fell on Fenris and sighed.
“I knocked,” Anders said.
“Usually not answering means the person wants to be left alone,” Fenris said as he took another gulp from the bottle of wine.
Anders frowned and moved to Fenris’ side, sitting down next to him on the floor. “How are you doing?”
Fenris laughed, “How do you answer a question like that?” He went to take another drink of the wine but Anders grabbed the bottle and set it down out of Fenris’ reach. Fenris glared at him in frustration.
“I thought discovering my past would give me a sense of belonging but I was wrong. Magic has tainted that too, there is nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone.”
“I’m here, Fenris,” Anders said softly. Fenris felt a moment of relief and he put his hand over Anders’, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. But the relief was short lived as the moment past and all the complications came rushing back. “You did the right thing, letting her go.”
Fenris wasn’t so sure. He pulled his hand away and rubbed his forehead with it. “She betrayed me… to become a Magister. It shouldn’t surprise me that a mage would do such a thing in search of power.”
“You can’t blame everything on magic.” Anders said.
“I don’t blame magic but the mages who use it to seek nothing but their personal gains.”
Anders slid his body so he was facing Fenris and he looked angry. “Mages are not to blame! How can you insist on blaming everything that’s happened to you on mages when it comes down to a few single people?”
“It only takes a --”
“Only takes a few, yes, I know. You’ve said this all before. Don’t you get tired of this same old excuse?”
“Don’t you?”
Anders let a long breath out and leaned back against the wall across from Fenris. “Do you forget I’m a mage?”
“No.”
“When will my betrayal come then?”
Fenris frowned down at his lap and felt like the distance between them was immense. “I don’t know.”
Anders leaned forward and grabbed Fenris’ hands. He searched Fenris’ eyes with his in an attempt to pull answers from them. “How can you think that I would do that?”
Fenris pulled Anders close and felt the anger at a betrayal that hadn’t happened. It was inevitable. “I know you will do it. Because of what you are!”
Anders gave him a disgusted look, “What I am is a man who cares about you and you do nothing but hate.” Anders pulled away and stood up. “Look at you. You finally accomplish something you’ve sought for years. You’re free. No more master, no more running and you’re sitting here.”
“What would you have me do?”
“What do you want to do?” Anders turned around, impatience evident in his body.
“I don’t know. This freedom… it tastes like ashes.” Anders sat down on the bed and put a hand on Fenris’ shoulder. “Danarius and Hadriana are dead but it doesn’t feel like it should.”
“Did you expect a parade?”
Fenris huffed in agitation. “I expected to feel different. I expected to be free of this grasp magic has on my life.”
Anders slid his hand away and shook his head. “I’m tired of this.”
“You’re tired of it?” Fenris turned to glare up at Anders. “What is there for you to be tired of, mage?”
“Do you hate me so much?”
Fenris clawed his way up Anders’ body until he was staring into his amber eyes. “I hate this hold you have over me. I hate what you are.”
He leaned down and kissed Anders roughly until he was forcibly pushed off by Anders’ angry hands. Fenris grabbed his arms and held him where he was.
“You can’t say you hate me and want me to remain,” Anders said.
“What do you want me to say? You’re a mage. Did you ever think this was something I’d be glad for?” Fenris was furious and confused. He knew this wasn’t right, to direct all this at Anders but he couldn’t stop himself.
Anders laughed and sneered at Fenris. “You’re such a hypocrite. You’re angry at me for being a mage but you’re just jealous. You chose what happened to you and that’s what pisses you off. Not mages.”
Fenris’ teeth clamped tight and his fists tightened their hold on the mage.
“Unlike you, I had no choice in what I am. You did. What’s your excuse?” Anders continued it and made Fenris lose what little control he had. He punched Anders across the jaw and gasped in surprise at a rush of memories that came flooding through his brain. Things he had never remembered before. The day he got his lyrium brands and the pain. Oh, the pain.
Anders clutched his jaw and groaned in his own pain. But Fenris did not give him time to recover. He grabbed Anders by the front of his coat and got in his face.
“What of what you’ve become after? Your demon?” Fenris growled. He remembered a time when he was young and he had blood on his hands and Danarius was smiling down at him like he was a well behaved dog.
“I guess we’re more alike then you like to think,” Anders said and it made Fenris even more angry. He was nothing like a mage. He was not so weak. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
“Shut up,” he shouted. The next thing he realized his hands were tight around Anders’ neck and he remembered the day it happened. When he had won his chance to be Danarius’ pet. To get the lyrium and the chance to free his mother and sister. It had been a happy day for him.
Anders choked under Fenris’ strength because Fenris had unknowingly opened himself to the lyrium and it raced through his veins. His cold fury fueled him and he no longer saw Anders, the man he had grown so close, but the face of a mage who had ruined his life. Danarius was everything, even if he was dead. The pain of his memories made everything else meaningless.
“Fenris!” Anders scratched at Fenris’ arms but it was futile. Unnoticed to Fenris blue lines began to trace up Anders’ hands to his arms. “Stop,” his voice was weak but Fenris didn’t care.
Then Anders’ eyes were blue, nothing but light, and seething with rage. Justice grabbed Fenris’ arm and the pain of his grip pulled Fenris out of his memories. He made an agonized sound and was forced to let his grip on Anders go.
A harsh shot of lightening jumped from Anders’ hand and narrowly missed striking Fenris. It snapped the nightstand in two and flames flared then died out at the impact point.
Fenris grabbed Anders’ hands and frantically tried to think of a way out of this situation. Justice said nothing, he had judged Fenris and had his solution. They struggled until Justice kicked Fenris’ legs out from under him and brought them both to hard floor. Justice landed on top of him and it knocked the air out of Fenris. He gasped and struggled to get out from under the angry demon. He would not die at the hands of something so corrupt.
“I do not understand why even now Anders struggles for me to stop. You are everything we are fighting against,” Justice’s voice boomed.
Fenris stopped, breathing heavily as he stared up at the demon. Justice grabbed Fenris by the collar, readying for some final blow. Fenris put a hand to the thing’s chest and grasped the clothing to keep his grip.
“Do not try to make me think he has some control over you, demon.”
“You do not understand and you will never attempt to understand,” Justice said. “What you believe and would put the mage through is unjust.”
That seemed to be the last words Justice intended to say. His grip tightened and a glow erupted around him as he prepared Fenris’ death. Fenris reached forward with his hand, it slid into Anders’ body and Fenris closed his eyes. Anders screamed in pain and Fenris’ eyes shot open and he pulled his hand back, hoping he had done nothing too serious. Anders fell backward and clutched his chest, all signs of Justice were gone. The mage scrambled to prop himself against the wall, his breaths coming in short gasps.
Anders pulled at his clothing, ripped it until part of his chest was exposed and he put a hand to the bloody hole there. Glowing white light surrounded his hand and Anders gasped. His eyes fell closed tightly and Anders’ other hand gripped into a fist. Fenris watched helpless as Anders tried to heal himself from what Fenris had done. Fenris felt little comfort in the fact that if he hadn’t done it he may have been dead himself.
Slowly Anders’ breathing steadied and the glow faded from his hand. He slumped tiredly but opened his eyes to watch Fenris. Blood outlined the wound Fenris had made and it covered Anders’ hand but he didn’t seem to notice. He tried to push his body up with his bloodied hand, trailing blood along the floor.
“I…” Fenris began to say but he had no words.
“You’re broken,” Anders said coldly.
Fenris shook his head and moved across the floor toward Anders. He reached out a hand but Anders pulled away from it.
“I started remembering things. My past. I don’t know what happened,” Fenris said, trying to explain.
“So you reach for the nearest mage to take it out on?” Anders pushed himself to his feet and wobbled for a moment before he steadied himself.
Fenris didn’t want Anders to go but it was for the best. What he said was accurate. He had always treated the mage as something to take his emotions out on. This time had been the worst but it would probably happen again. He remembered what Justice had said and it held true for him. Anders was everything he was fighting against.
“Just go,” Fenris said. “You’re right.”
Anders’ feet scraped along the floor as he walked out without another word, just a sad look in his eyes. Fenris put his head in his hands at the sound of his front door closing behind the mage. He wondered if he’d now be free, having cut the last tie he had to someone who worried for him.
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It had been weeks. Lonely and lost weeks. Fenris didn’t remember much of the time, since he spent most of it holed up in his mansion drinking wine and trying to forget. All he had ever wanted was to remember and now he wanted nothing but to forget.
Something must have been obvious or Anders had said something because all of the missions Hawke took Fenris along on Anders had been absent. It was a relief but also painful. Fenris wanted to see the mage. He wanted to explain but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He should have listened to Anders so long ago.
They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t seen each other. But despite that Fenris found himself outside Anders’ clinic. Hawke had come to Fenris, worried about the mage. And it seemed nothing Hawke or anybody else said could get to the man. Anders had done something, under the ruse of separating himself and Justice, and Hawke couldn’t get any answers from Anders. His friend thought whatever Anders had done was going to turn out bad for everybody, no matter the assurances from Anders that it would all fall on himself and none of them.
Fenris took a deep breath and opened the clinic door. The place was empty of patients, which was strange. He found Anders in the back looking over some personal items.
“I didn’t think you’d come back here,” Anders said with his back turned, leaving Fenris wondering how he had known he was there.
“I’ve come to talk,” Fenris said. Anders turned and for a moment looked pleased until a stern wall fell over his features.
“What else could we possibly have to talk about?”
“What did you do at the Chantry?”
Anders shook his head and let out an irritated noise. “It does not matter. I has nothing to do with you.”
“You can’t go ahead with this.”
“Revolutions do not happen peacefully,” Anders said heatedly.
“So this is what you’re doing? Starting a revolution?” Fenris stepped closer and fought the urge to pull the mage to him. He looked so tense and hurt.
“Somebody must,” Anders snapped. “I cannot watch these injustices continue! There is no one in Kirkwall I wouldn’t kill to see mages free.”
Fenris was surprised by the response. He had known this was Anders’ goal but he had never been so eager for violence. “There must be another way.”
“No,” Anders said firmly. “Why are you here? You do not care for magic. You do not care for mage freedom. You do not care for… me. What do you want?”
Anders was upset and he turned away from Fenris, unable to look at him any longer. Fenris ached and he didn’t know why. Anders was right, he didn’t care about those things but he did care about Anders.
“Anders…” he wanted to tell him but that’s all that would come out. Anders froze at the sound of his name and he slowly looked over his shoulder.
“You see mages as monsters and so do they. They can’t imagine a world with room for all of us. Maybe they’re right.”
Fenris moved even closer but felt a cold fear in him. Anders was talking of things he had always thought he’d turn into. It wasn’t something Fenris wanted to be right about.
“All you’ll be doing is proving them right,” Fenris said. He put a hand on Anders’ shoulder and tried to understand where Anders was coming from. He didn’t know what to say to make Anders see what he was doing was wrong. “Don’t do this. There’s still time to stop it.”
Fenris willed what he couldn’t say to somehow be evident in his touch, his eyes. Anders seemed calmed by his presence and he touched Fenris’ hand.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Time… maybe there’s still time.”
Suddenly Anders was gone and Justice was there, eyes glowing blue with such intensity that it hurt Fenris to look into them. Fenris backed away quickly and reached for his sword.
“Leave!” Justice shouted. “This does not concern you!”
A need stronger than fighting the demon took hold of Fenris and instead he tried to defend the mage.
“This is Anders’ decision, not yours, demon!”
“I am Anders!” his voice bellowed angrily. Fenris gripped his sword tightly and worried he would have to use it soon. “You have proven yourself a victim of sloth. You would stand by while mages are abducted and tortured!” He felt that Justice wanted to do more but he stood his ground instead of advancing. “Go! Anders has no need of you!”
Anders’ body slumped and he put a hand to his head in confusion. “What was I saying?”
Fenris frowned and reluctantly put his sword away. “You don’t remember?”
“No,” Anders sighed in realization. “I’ve been having more… blanks in my memory.” Anders looked pained. “It’s like the longer we go the less of me there is.”
“The demon is controlling you. You‘ve let it have too much.”
Anders sank to the floor and stared up at Fenris. “You were right all along. I should never have done this.” The satisfaction of being right was not something Fenris cared for at that moment. He leaned down and put calming hand on Anders’ knee.
“Do not succumb to it,” Fenris said, trying to build Anders’ self control back up. But the man shook his head at Fenris’ words.
“He’s too strong. I tried,” Anders said in defeat. He grabbed Fenris’ arm and looked desperately into his eyes. “Don’t hate me for failing.”
Anders needed something from Fenris that he could not give. Not now. He gave Anders a light kiss on the forehead and stood up. It was the hardest thing he had ever done but he turned around and left Anders there. He couldn’t bring himself to kill him and he couldn’t aid him in his cause. There was no place for Fenris to be with Anders and no way for him to help.
-----------------------
When they reached the Gallows Meredith and Orsino were arguing loud enough to hear clearly. Hawke rushed forward to push himself into the middle of them. He interjected into the conversation, pulling the Knight Commander’s anger as she turned to him.
Fenris let his eyes roam over the tense Templars standing behind Meredith and then to the mages clustered a few steps away from Orsino. There was a wide divide between the two groups and in the center Hawke and his companions stood.
The argument continued as Hawke tried to fight for a middle ground but the two would not give. Orsino grew more agitated as Meredith demanded she would remain vigilant. Fenris sighed. These two would argue to their last breath while everything fell to ash around them.
“This is getting us nowhere. Grand Cleric Elthina will put a stop to this,” Orsino threw up his hands as he turned away from Meredith. The Knight Commander grabbed the elf by the arm and pulled him back.
“You will not bring her Grace into this!” she commanded.
“The Grand Cleric cannot help you!”
The voice was Anders’, loud and steady. Fenris turned as Anders brushed past him. His knuckles were white on his staff but his steps gave the appearance of casual confidence. He had traded in his usual tunic for one colored black on black. As if he were going to attend someone’s funeral. Then Fenris wondered if perhaps he was with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Meredith stepped toward Anders, impatience and frustration clear on her face. “Explain yourself, mage.”
“I would not stand by and watch you treat all mages likes criminals,” Anders’ staff cracked against the ground, the sound making Fenris flinch. “While those who would lead us bow to their Templar jailers.”
Orsino stepped forward his face red from the insult. “How dare you.”
Another crack of his staff on the ground and Anders had quieted the other mage. Fenris could only see his back but the tension in his body told him this was everything Anders had been striving for. This confrontation would not remain one of words. Fenris reached for his sword, wrapping his fingers around the hilt, ready to bring it out in an instant. He didn’t know if was because he felt they were going to have to fight their way out of there of if he was going to have to stop Anders.
And as if on cue to his thoughts, bright blue light split across Anders’ body. Pulsing and radiating as he growled.
“The Circle has failed us! The time has come to act. There can be no half measures.” His voice was almost a mixture of Anders’ and Justice’s and it whipped through the air.
Anders turned, the glow fading and from him. His eyes caught Fenris’ and he seemed resigned, his face falling.
“Anders, what have you done?” Hawke asked. Fenris wished he had voice enough to ask as well. A part of him that he had worked to deny for so long ached in horrified anticipation. He took a step, small and hesitant and he felt completely lost.
“There can be no turning back,” Anders said quietly, turning away from Fenris.
The ground began to rumble under their feet and Fenris cursed. He steadied himself and before he knew it he was at Anders’ side grabbing his arm. The mage turned with a surprised look and then it fell as he saw the anger, distrust and fear warring over Fenris’ face.
What happened next was almost indescribable. There was a thundering crash followed by a bright red light emanating from, no, through the Chantry. Large pieces of the building came away and began to float as if carried by the wind and that light. Fenris put a hand over his eyes to shield himself from the blinding brightness. Then it was as if the light imploded and the force pushed what remained of the Chantry outward to fall throughout the city.
Fenris stared at the sky where the large building had once stood, now empty. The mage’s betrayal sent a hot stab of pain through him. He had known it would eventually come to this. A mage would only ever turn on those around him. An abomination no less. Innocent people now dead, in a cause spurred on by demons.
He wondered now if this is what Anders had meant when he said “I’ll show you that I’m not weak.”. Fenris shook his head sadly. He knew that old hatred should have been boiling through him but he felt none of it. Instead he felt cold and hurt.
There was shouting and arguing but Fenris couldn’t seem to focus on any of it. His eyes locked to Anders’ back, he wanted to rush forward and get his hands on the man. He wanted to shake him, to rip the demon from his heart and crush it. But it wasn’t anger that made the blood pound in his ears or his lips to curl into a snarl. It was something he had never felt before but it felt as if he was shattering apart.
Events proceeded and Fenris found himself swept up in the chaos. Suddenly there was fire and the sounds of swords on armor. Broken from his haze Fenris tried to push past a Templar but the man turned on him, sword coming down toward him. Fenris jumped back, narrowly missing being cut at the neck. He freed his sword from his back and growled. The Templar stepped forward and then the two moved together. The Templar came in low and Fenris went high, his large blade crushing down onto the Templar’s shoulder. It broke through armor and met flesh. The man crumpled to the ground at Fenris’ feet.
More men and women with the flaming sword on their armor’s chest came at Fenris and more fell. The movement and aggression of battle was something that always seemed welcoming to Fenris. But this time it felt as if he was in fog. His body going through the motions and smoothly stepping around his enemies attacks. But he felt as if he was not truly there.
The battle quieted down and then was over. Mages groaned and panted in distress. But they did not raise their eyes to Fenris so he paid them no attention. He scanned the faces and bodies, searching for Anders.
Then he spotted him. Sitting on a crate faced away from the smoking remains of the Chantry. He looked calm… peaceful. Hawke was behind him, talking quietly. Fenris could see their mouths moving as they spoke but he could not make out the words. Then Anders turned his head and he looked straight at Fenris with what looked like a sad smile on his lips. A dagger suddenly glinted in Hawke’s hand.
“No,” Fenris breathed.
Hawke pushed the dagger into Anders’ back, deep and sure. Anders’ body arched from the pain and he groaned but did not fight. Hawke pulled away quickly and his legs seemed unsteady as he backed away from Anders.
The dark blond head sagged and then his shoulders slumped followed by his body crumpling to the ground. Fenris choked back a pained noise and he felt a hand at his shoulder. Isabela looked at him with sad, pitying eyes and he wished she didn’t know.
Fenris stumbled away from her. There was a sudden emptiness in him that felt as if it were consuming him. His body felt cold and hollow. He wanted to feel something, anything. He would welcome his old friend hatred if it meant it would drive away this lack of something.
Hawke and his companions gathered around, encircling, figuring out their next move and Fenris had never felt so alone. Hawke stood there and talked of mages and templars and the city. Fenris wanted to laugh as the sudden realization hit him that the only thing that had been keeping him from leaving had been his destructive war with Anders. What did he care for mages or templars? What did he care for this rotting city?
“I cannot help you in this, Hawke,” Fenris spoke. His own voice was loud in his ears. It felt like he hadn’t spoken for weeks.
“Fenris?”
“I cannot join this fight. Fighting alongside mages is something of the past.”
Hawke frowned but nodded slowly. “I understand.”
They shook hands to say their goodbye. Fenris thought he would miss Hawke but he wasn’t sure. It was hard to say if he’d miss anything anymore. Fenris didn’t have any anger in him to be upset for what Hawke had just done. And some part of him knew it had been what needed to be done.
Fenris walked away from the people he had called friends and let his eyes fall on the body of the man he had… loved. He could say it now… now that it did not matter. He leaned down beside Anders, uncaring that his knee sat in blood that was still warm. He brushed a loose piece of blond hair back behind the man’s ear and a lone tear fell down Fenris’ cheek. He brushed it away and then stood.
“Well, at least you’ve found freedom,” he said down at the body. Fenris smiled sadly as he turned away and left. He didn’t stop until he was out of the city and sure he’d never return.
The End.
-- A Thin Line - Fenris/Anders Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 : NC-17
Title: A Thin Line (Chapter 6/6)
Author: greatbriton
Rating: R (This Chapter - NC-17 For Entire Story)
Warnings: Spoilers. Spoilers For All Acts. End Game Spoilers! Dialogue and Quest. Violence.
Word Count: 5093
Pairing: Fenris/Anders
Summary: Hatred is a gateway emotion. Fenris and Anders find that there may be more than just hatred between them.
Early the next day they found Fenris’ sister sitting alone in the back of the Hanged Man. Memories had come rushing back to Fenris. Of playing with her and having her call him “Leto”. It was his name. It was a name he did not recognize that belonged to a boy long since gone.
As Fenris had suspected it had been a trap but it did not make the betrayal of his sister hurt any less. Danarius was arrogant and sure he had Fenris right where he wanted him. His former master underestimated the company Fenris now kept. Hawke, Anders and Varric stood strong behind Fenris and when the moment came fought beside him. The fight against Danarius and his men was somewhat anti-climatic in Fenris’ mind but it did not matter because he got his chance to stuff the life out of the man that had enslaved him.
Fenris was full of the power his lyrium brands gave him. How sweet it was that Danarius’ own creation would be the death of him. He grabbed Danarius by the neck and lifted him off the ground with ease. His body sang with fury and long suffered pain. Fenris crushed the man’s throat with his hand and watched the life leave his eyes. It was good and gave Fenris a satisfaction he had never felt before.
A few moments later he had come back to himself and remembered his sister. She looked at him with fear in her eyes and Fenris did not care. She had betrayed him and that was enough. His sister had given him up for the chance to become a Magister. Anders had looked surprised when it came to light that she was a mage but Fenris had no time for his companions. The hatred and anger in him left him no time because it would not stop pounding in his ears, demanding he make his sister pay for what she had done.
Hawke stopped him with strong, calm words. Varric interjected as well and Anders shook his head with eyes sadly asking Fenris to stop. Fenris did contain himself long enough to tell her to go. He kept his back to her as she headed for the exit but before her feet took her away she spoke.
“You said you didn’t ask for this but that’s not true. You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won you used the boon to have mother and I freed.”
Fenris turned around to face her, his anger replaced by fear. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Freedom was no boon. I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain.” With that she turned and left, leaving Fenris confused and desperate for memories he could not find.
Fenris felt the presence of the three men behind him and wished he were anywhere else.
“You heard what Varania said. I wanted these, I fought for them. I feel unclean like this magic is not only etched into my skin but has also stained my soul.” He bowed his head and looked at a lyrium marking on his palm. What was he if he was a man who would fight for this? He could not remember.
“Maybe that isn’t the truth,” Anders said.
“Why would she lie?” Fenris asked and nobody answered. “I need to get out of here.”
Fenris left and went immediately to the mansion he had claimed from Danarius. He found a bottle of wine and slumped down against the large bed in the dark room he had called his bedroom. Now, he didn’t know what it was. None of this was his and he wasn’t even sure he wanted it any longer.
The idea that this entire time he had asked for the lyrium to be laced into his skin, had asked to be slave to Danarius… it made Fenris feel sick. He took off the plate pieces of his armor to relieve some of the weight as if it were physical and not mental. The wine slowly helped take some of the edge off his state and he let his fall back against the mattress of the bed.
Then he heard someone knocking at the front door. Fenris didn’t move, he was in no mood to entertain a guest. He groaned when heard steps on the stairs and Anders’ voice calling for him. The light reaching into the room was dim but he saw Anders before Anders saw him. His dark boots stepped into the room and he glanced around with a worried expression on his face. Then his eyes fell on Fenris and sighed.
“I knocked,” Anders said.
“Usually not answering means the person wants to be left alone,” Fenris said as he took another gulp from the bottle of wine.
Anders frowned and moved to Fenris’ side, sitting down next to him on the floor. “How are you doing?”
Fenris laughed, “How do you answer a question like that?” He went to take another drink of the wine but Anders grabbed the bottle and set it down out of Fenris’ reach. Fenris glared at him in frustration.
“I thought discovering my past would give me a sense of belonging but I was wrong. Magic has tainted that too, there is nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone.”
“I’m here, Fenris,” Anders said softly. Fenris felt a moment of relief and he put his hand over Anders’, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. But the relief was short lived as the moment past and all the complications came rushing back. “You did the right thing, letting her go.”
Fenris wasn’t so sure. He pulled his hand away and rubbed his forehead with it. “She betrayed me… to become a Magister. It shouldn’t surprise me that a mage would do such a thing in search of power.”
“You can’t blame everything on magic.” Anders said.
“I don’t blame magic but the mages who use it to seek nothing but their personal gains.”
Anders slid his body so he was facing Fenris and he looked angry. “Mages are not to blame! How can you insist on blaming everything that’s happened to you on mages when it comes down to a few single people?”
“It only takes a --”
“Only takes a few, yes, I know. You’ve said this all before. Don’t you get tired of this same old excuse?”
“Don’t you?”
Anders let a long breath out and leaned back against the wall across from Fenris. “Do you forget I’m a mage?”
“No.”
“When will my betrayal come then?”
Fenris frowned down at his lap and felt like the distance between them was immense. “I don’t know.”
Anders leaned forward and grabbed Fenris’ hands. He searched Fenris’ eyes with his in an attempt to pull answers from them. “How can you think that I would do that?”
Fenris pulled Anders close and felt the anger at a betrayal that hadn’t happened. It was inevitable. “I know you will do it. Because of what you are!”
Anders gave him a disgusted look, “What I am is a man who cares about you and you do nothing but hate.” Anders pulled away and stood up. “Look at you. You finally accomplish something you’ve sought for years. You’re free. No more master, no more running and you’re sitting here.”
“What would you have me do?”
“What do you want to do?” Anders turned around, impatience evident in his body.
“I don’t know. This freedom… it tastes like ashes.” Anders sat down on the bed and put a hand on Fenris’ shoulder. “Danarius and Hadriana are dead but it doesn’t feel like it should.”
“Did you expect a parade?”
Fenris huffed in agitation. “I expected to feel different. I expected to be free of this grasp magic has on my life.”
Anders slid his hand away and shook his head. “I’m tired of this.”
“You’re tired of it?” Fenris turned to glare up at Anders. “What is there for you to be tired of, mage?”
“Do you hate me so much?”
Fenris clawed his way up Anders’ body until he was staring into his amber eyes. “I hate this hold you have over me. I hate what you are.”
He leaned down and kissed Anders roughly until he was forcibly pushed off by Anders’ angry hands. Fenris grabbed his arms and held him where he was.
“You can’t say you hate me and want me to remain,” Anders said.
“What do you want me to say? You’re a mage. Did you ever think this was something I’d be glad for?” Fenris was furious and confused. He knew this wasn’t right, to direct all this at Anders but he couldn’t stop himself.
Anders laughed and sneered at Fenris. “You’re such a hypocrite. You’re angry at me for being a mage but you’re just jealous. You chose what happened to you and that’s what pisses you off. Not mages.”
Fenris’ teeth clamped tight and his fists tightened their hold on the mage.
“Unlike you, I had no choice in what I am. You did. What’s your excuse?” Anders continued it and made Fenris lose what little control he had. He punched Anders across the jaw and gasped in surprise at a rush of memories that came flooding through his brain. Things he had never remembered before. The day he got his lyrium brands and the pain. Oh, the pain.
Anders clutched his jaw and groaned in his own pain. But Fenris did not give him time to recover. He grabbed Anders by the front of his coat and got in his face.
“What of what you’ve become after? Your demon?” Fenris growled. He remembered a time when he was young and he had blood on his hands and Danarius was smiling down at him like he was a well behaved dog.
“I guess we’re more alike then you like to think,” Anders said and it made Fenris even more angry. He was nothing like a mage. He was not so weak. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
“Shut up,” he shouted. The next thing he realized his hands were tight around Anders’ neck and he remembered the day it happened. When he had won his chance to be Danarius’ pet. To get the lyrium and the chance to free his mother and sister. It had been a happy day for him.
Anders choked under Fenris’ strength because Fenris had unknowingly opened himself to the lyrium and it raced through his veins. His cold fury fueled him and he no longer saw Anders, the man he had grown so close, but the face of a mage who had ruined his life. Danarius was everything, even if he was dead. The pain of his memories made everything else meaningless.
“Fenris!” Anders scratched at Fenris’ arms but it was futile. Unnoticed to Fenris blue lines began to trace up Anders’ hands to his arms. “Stop,” his voice was weak but Fenris didn’t care.
Then Anders’ eyes were blue, nothing but light, and seething with rage. Justice grabbed Fenris’ arm and the pain of his grip pulled Fenris out of his memories. He made an agonized sound and was forced to let his grip on Anders go.
A harsh shot of lightening jumped from Anders’ hand and narrowly missed striking Fenris. It snapped the nightstand in two and flames flared then died out at the impact point.
Fenris grabbed Anders’ hands and frantically tried to think of a way out of this situation. Justice said nothing, he had judged Fenris and had his solution. They struggled until Justice kicked Fenris’ legs out from under him and brought them both to hard floor. Justice landed on top of him and it knocked the air out of Fenris. He gasped and struggled to get out from under the angry demon. He would not die at the hands of something so corrupt.
“I do not understand why even now Anders struggles for me to stop. You are everything we are fighting against,” Justice’s voice boomed.
Fenris stopped, breathing heavily as he stared up at the demon. Justice grabbed Fenris by the collar, readying for some final blow. Fenris put a hand to the thing’s chest and grasped the clothing to keep his grip.
“Do not try to make me think he has some control over you, demon.”
“You do not understand and you will never attempt to understand,” Justice said. “What you believe and would put the mage through is unjust.”
That seemed to be the last words Justice intended to say. His grip tightened and a glow erupted around him as he prepared Fenris’ death. Fenris reached forward with his hand, it slid into Anders’ body and Fenris closed his eyes. Anders screamed in pain and Fenris’ eyes shot open and he pulled his hand back, hoping he had done nothing too serious. Anders fell backward and clutched his chest, all signs of Justice were gone. The mage scrambled to prop himself against the wall, his breaths coming in short gasps.
Anders pulled at his clothing, ripped it until part of his chest was exposed and he put a hand to the bloody hole there. Glowing white light surrounded his hand and Anders gasped. His eyes fell closed tightly and Anders’ other hand gripped into a fist. Fenris watched helpless as Anders tried to heal himself from what Fenris had done. Fenris felt little comfort in the fact that if he hadn’t done it he may have been dead himself.
Slowly Anders’ breathing steadied and the glow faded from his hand. He slumped tiredly but opened his eyes to watch Fenris. Blood outlined the wound Fenris had made and it covered Anders’ hand but he didn’t seem to notice. He tried to push his body up with his bloodied hand, trailing blood along the floor.
“I…” Fenris began to say but he had no words.
“You’re broken,” Anders said coldly.
Fenris shook his head and moved across the floor toward Anders. He reached out a hand but Anders pulled away from it.
“I started remembering things. My past. I don’t know what happened,” Fenris said, trying to explain.
“So you reach for the nearest mage to take it out on?” Anders pushed himself to his feet and wobbled for a moment before he steadied himself.
Fenris didn’t want Anders to go but it was for the best. What he said was accurate. He had always treated the mage as something to take his emotions out on. This time had been the worst but it would probably happen again. He remembered what Justice had said and it held true for him. Anders was everything he was fighting against.
“Just go,” Fenris said. “You’re right.”
Anders’ feet scraped along the floor as he walked out without another word, just a sad look in his eyes. Fenris put his head in his hands at the sound of his front door closing behind the mage. He wondered if he’d now be free, having cut the last tie he had to someone who worried for him.
-----------------------------
It had been weeks. Lonely and lost weeks. Fenris didn’t remember much of the time, since he spent most of it holed up in his mansion drinking wine and trying to forget. All he had ever wanted was to remember and now he wanted nothing but to forget.
Something must have been obvious or Anders had said something because all of the missions Hawke took Fenris along on Anders had been absent. It was a relief but also painful. Fenris wanted to see the mage. He wanted to explain but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He should have listened to Anders so long ago.
They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t seen each other. But despite that Fenris found himself outside Anders’ clinic. Hawke had come to Fenris, worried about the mage. And it seemed nothing Hawke or anybody else said could get to the man. Anders had done something, under the ruse of separating himself and Justice, and Hawke couldn’t get any answers from Anders. His friend thought whatever Anders had done was going to turn out bad for everybody, no matter the assurances from Anders that it would all fall on himself and none of them.
Fenris took a deep breath and opened the clinic door. The place was empty of patients, which was strange. He found Anders in the back looking over some personal items.
“I didn’t think you’d come back here,” Anders said with his back turned, leaving Fenris wondering how he had known he was there.
“I’ve come to talk,” Fenris said. Anders turned and for a moment looked pleased until a stern wall fell over his features.
“What else could we possibly have to talk about?”
“What did you do at the Chantry?”
Anders shook his head and let out an irritated noise. “It does not matter. I has nothing to do with you.”
“You can’t go ahead with this.”
“Revolutions do not happen peacefully,” Anders said heatedly.
“So this is what you’re doing? Starting a revolution?” Fenris stepped closer and fought the urge to pull the mage to him. He looked so tense and hurt.
“Somebody must,” Anders snapped. “I cannot watch these injustices continue! There is no one in Kirkwall I wouldn’t kill to see mages free.”
Fenris was surprised by the response. He had known this was Anders’ goal but he had never been so eager for violence. “There must be another way.”
“No,” Anders said firmly. “Why are you here? You do not care for magic. You do not care for mage freedom. You do not care for… me. What do you want?”
Anders was upset and he turned away from Fenris, unable to look at him any longer. Fenris ached and he didn’t know why. Anders was right, he didn’t care about those things but he did care about Anders.
“Anders…” he wanted to tell him but that’s all that would come out. Anders froze at the sound of his name and he slowly looked over his shoulder.
“You see mages as monsters and so do they. They can’t imagine a world with room for all of us. Maybe they’re right.”
Fenris moved even closer but felt a cold fear in him. Anders was talking of things he had always thought he’d turn into. It wasn’t something Fenris wanted to be right about.
“All you’ll be doing is proving them right,” Fenris said. He put a hand on Anders’ shoulder and tried to understand where Anders was coming from. He didn’t know what to say to make Anders see what he was doing was wrong. “Don’t do this. There’s still time to stop it.”
Fenris willed what he couldn’t say to somehow be evident in his touch, his eyes. Anders seemed calmed by his presence and he touched Fenris’ hand.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Time… maybe there’s still time.”
Suddenly Anders was gone and Justice was there, eyes glowing blue with such intensity that it hurt Fenris to look into them. Fenris backed away quickly and reached for his sword.
“Leave!” Justice shouted. “This does not concern you!”
A need stronger than fighting the demon took hold of Fenris and instead he tried to defend the mage.
“This is Anders’ decision, not yours, demon!”
“I am Anders!” his voice bellowed angrily. Fenris gripped his sword tightly and worried he would have to use it soon. “You have proven yourself a victim of sloth. You would stand by while mages are abducted and tortured!” He felt that Justice wanted to do more but he stood his ground instead of advancing. “Go! Anders has no need of you!”
Anders’ body slumped and he put a hand to his head in confusion. “What was I saying?”
Fenris frowned and reluctantly put his sword away. “You don’t remember?”
“No,” Anders sighed in realization. “I’ve been having more… blanks in my memory.” Anders looked pained. “It’s like the longer we go the less of me there is.”
“The demon is controlling you. You‘ve let it have too much.”
Anders sank to the floor and stared up at Fenris. “You were right all along. I should never have done this.” The satisfaction of being right was not something Fenris cared for at that moment. He leaned down and put calming hand on Anders’ knee.
“Do not succumb to it,” Fenris said, trying to build Anders’ self control back up. But the man shook his head at Fenris’ words.
“He’s too strong. I tried,” Anders said in defeat. He grabbed Fenris’ arm and looked desperately into his eyes. “Don’t hate me for failing.”
Anders needed something from Fenris that he could not give. Not now. He gave Anders a light kiss on the forehead and stood up. It was the hardest thing he had ever done but he turned around and left Anders there. He couldn’t bring himself to kill him and he couldn’t aid him in his cause. There was no place for Fenris to be with Anders and no way for him to help.
-----------------------
When they reached the Gallows Meredith and Orsino were arguing loud enough to hear clearly. Hawke rushed forward to push himself into the middle of them. He interjected into the conversation, pulling the Knight Commander’s anger as she turned to him.
Fenris let his eyes roam over the tense Templars standing behind Meredith and then to the mages clustered a few steps away from Orsino. There was a wide divide between the two groups and in the center Hawke and his companions stood.
The argument continued as Hawke tried to fight for a middle ground but the two would not give. Orsino grew more agitated as Meredith demanded she would remain vigilant. Fenris sighed. These two would argue to their last breath while everything fell to ash around them.
“This is getting us nowhere. Grand Cleric Elthina will put a stop to this,” Orsino threw up his hands as he turned away from Meredith. The Knight Commander grabbed the elf by the arm and pulled him back.
“You will not bring her Grace into this!” she commanded.
“The Grand Cleric cannot help you!”
The voice was Anders’, loud and steady. Fenris turned as Anders brushed past him. His knuckles were white on his staff but his steps gave the appearance of casual confidence. He had traded in his usual tunic for one colored black on black. As if he were going to attend someone’s funeral. Then Fenris wondered if perhaps he was with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Meredith stepped toward Anders, impatience and frustration clear on her face. “Explain yourself, mage.”
“I would not stand by and watch you treat all mages likes criminals,” Anders’ staff cracked against the ground, the sound making Fenris flinch. “While those who would lead us bow to their Templar jailers.”
Orsino stepped forward his face red from the insult. “How dare you.”
Another crack of his staff on the ground and Anders had quieted the other mage. Fenris could only see his back but the tension in his body told him this was everything Anders had been striving for. This confrontation would not remain one of words. Fenris reached for his sword, wrapping his fingers around the hilt, ready to bring it out in an instant. He didn’t know if was because he felt they were going to have to fight their way out of there of if he was going to have to stop Anders.
And as if on cue to his thoughts, bright blue light split across Anders’ body. Pulsing and radiating as he growled.
“The Circle has failed us! The time has come to act. There can be no half measures.” His voice was almost a mixture of Anders’ and Justice’s and it whipped through the air.
Anders turned, the glow fading and from him. His eyes caught Fenris’ and he seemed resigned, his face falling.
“Anders, what have you done?” Hawke asked. Fenris wished he had voice enough to ask as well. A part of him that he had worked to deny for so long ached in horrified anticipation. He took a step, small and hesitant and he felt completely lost.
“There can be no turning back,” Anders said quietly, turning away from Fenris.
The ground began to rumble under their feet and Fenris cursed. He steadied himself and before he knew it he was at Anders’ side grabbing his arm. The mage turned with a surprised look and then it fell as he saw the anger, distrust and fear warring over Fenris’ face.
What happened next was almost indescribable. There was a thundering crash followed by a bright red light emanating from, no, through the Chantry. Large pieces of the building came away and began to float as if carried by the wind and that light. Fenris put a hand over his eyes to shield himself from the blinding brightness. Then it was as if the light imploded and the force pushed what remained of the Chantry outward to fall throughout the city.
Fenris stared at the sky where the large building had once stood, now empty. The mage’s betrayal sent a hot stab of pain through him. He had known it would eventually come to this. A mage would only ever turn on those around him. An abomination no less. Innocent people now dead, in a cause spurred on by demons.
He wondered now if this is what Anders had meant when he said “I’ll show you that I’m not weak.”. Fenris shook his head sadly. He knew that old hatred should have been boiling through him but he felt none of it. Instead he felt cold and hurt.
There was shouting and arguing but Fenris couldn’t seem to focus on any of it. His eyes locked to Anders’ back, he wanted to rush forward and get his hands on the man. He wanted to shake him, to rip the demon from his heart and crush it. But it wasn’t anger that made the blood pound in his ears or his lips to curl into a snarl. It was something he had never felt before but it felt as if he was shattering apart.
Events proceeded and Fenris found himself swept up in the chaos. Suddenly there was fire and the sounds of swords on armor. Broken from his haze Fenris tried to push past a Templar but the man turned on him, sword coming down toward him. Fenris jumped back, narrowly missing being cut at the neck. He freed his sword from his back and growled. The Templar stepped forward and then the two moved together. The Templar came in low and Fenris went high, his large blade crushing down onto the Templar’s shoulder. It broke through armor and met flesh. The man crumpled to the ground at Fenris’ feet.
More men and women with the flaming sword on their armor’s chest came at Fenris and more fell. The movement and aggression of battle was something that always seemed welcoming to Fenris. But this time it felt as if he was in fog. His body going through the motions and smoothly stepping around his enemies attacks. But he felt as if he was not truly there.
The battle quieted down and then was over. Mages groaned and panted in distress. But they did not raise their eyes to Fenris so he paid them no attention. He scanned the faces and bodies, searching for Anders.
Then he spotted him. Sitting on a crate faced away from the smoking remains of the Chantry. He looked calm… peaceful. Hawke was behind him, talking quietly. Fenris could see their mouths moving as they spoke but he could not make out the words. Then Anders turned his head and he looked straight at Fenris with what looked like a sad smile on his lips. A dagger suddenly glinted in Hawke’s hand.
“No,” Fenris breathed.
Hawke pushed the dagger into Anders’ back, deep and sure. Anders’ body arched from the pain and he groaned but did not fight. Hawke pulled away quickly and his legs seemed unsteady as he backed away from Anders.
The dark blond head sagged and then his shoulders slumped followed by his body crumpling to the ground. Fenris choked back a pained noise and he felt a hand at his shoulder. Isabela looked at him with sad, pitying eyes and he wished she didn’t know.
Fenris stumbled away from her. There was a sudden emptiness in him that felt as if it were consuming him. His body felt cold and hollow. He wanted to feel something, anything. He would welcome his old friend hatred if it meant it would drive away this lack of something.
Hawke and his companions gathered around, encircling, figuring out their next move and Fenris had never felt so alone. Hawke stood there and talked of mages and templars and the city. Fenris wanted to laugh as the sudden realization hit him that the only thing that had been keeping him from leaving had been his destructive war with Anders. What did he care for mages or templars? What did he care for this rotting city?
“I cannot help you in this, Hawke,” Fenris spoke. His own voice was loud in his ears. It felt like he hadn’t spoken for weeks.
“Fenris?”
“I cannot join this fight. Fighting alongside mages is something of the past.”
Hawke frowned but nodded slowly. “I understand.”
They shook hands to say their goodbye. Fenris thought he would miss Hawke but he wasn’t sure. It was hard to say if he’d miss anything anymore. Fenris didn’t have any anger in him to be upset for what Hawke had just done. And some part of him knew it had been what needed to be done.
Fenris walked away from the people he had called friends and let his eyes fall on the body of the man he had… loved. He could say it now… now that it did not matter. He leaned down beside Anders, uncaring that his knee sat in blood that was still warm. He brushed a loose piece of blond hair back behind the man’s ear and a lone tear fell down Fenris’ cheek. He brushed it away and then stood.
“Well, at least you’ve found freedom,” he said down at the body. Fenris smiled sadly as he turned away and left. He didn’t stop until he was out of the city and sure he’d never return.
The End.
-- A Thin Line - Fenris/Anders Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 : NC-17