Chapter Text
Fenris looked up to see a clear, dark sky shining with stars. Hawke had been teaching him the constellations. His eyes scanned across the expanse, looking for ones he recognized; It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for.
Servani, the chained man, stood out far above him. Fenris always failed to see the resemblance of the abstract shapes to what their supposed namesake was. It was yet another unfailing example of the magisters putting their presence where it was neither needed nor wanted.
They were a mile out, maybe less, from the dalish clan. Hawke insisted it was only polite. Hawke, who was so strong. Hawke, who was sleeping not ten feet from him.
Hawke, who gave him affections he could not return.
With a huff, Fenris stood and slung his greatsword absentmindedly across his back and slunk away from the campsite. It was a quiet night, and he was not going to go far.
~~~~~
“Enchanters!
A time has come for battle lines.
We will cut these knotted ties,
And some may live and some may die.
“Enchanter, come to me!
Enchanter, come to me!
Enchanter, come to see!
Can you, can you come to see,
“As you once were blind
In the light now you can sing?
In our strength we can rely,
And history will not repeat.”
Anders couldn’t count the amount of times he’d sung this to the night. Especially ones like tonight, where the stars shone as brightly as they did the night that damned barn went down in flames.
“Enchanter, come to me
Enchanter, come to me
Enchanter, come to see
Can you, can you come to see,
As you once were blind
In the light now you can sing?
In our strength we can rely,
And history will not repeat.”
The same stars were there when a boy of twelve was being dragged away in chains and throughout all the years when he wasn’t even allowed to see them.
“Enchanters!
The time has come to be alive
In the Circle of Magi,
Where we will thrive with our brothers.
“Enchanters remind
That time will not unwind.
The dragon's crooked spine,
Will never straighten into line.
“What we plea will be
A faithful end decree,
Where a man will not retreat
From the defeat of his fathers-.”
“Abomination.”
The last word died on Anders’ lips. “What do you want, Fenris?”
“I don’t want anything from you, mage.” Anders hears the gentle footsteps behind him approaching with the words.
“Then why are you here?”
No response came.
Anders turned his head to look at the elf now standing near him. He. . .wasn’t wearing his armor. Just a white tunic and leggings. The veins of lyrium branded in him stood out more than ever, trailing down his arms and wrapping around defined muscles. They almost shone in the dark.
“If you’ve come to belittle me, I haven’t the time or energy.” Anders said, and turned his head away.
He couldn’t put a name to the emotion he felt when he heard Fenris sit on the grass near him.
“Do you think so low of me that I would kick a dog when it’s most vulnerable?” Fenris said.
Anders kept his head turned away, unable to really understand what Fenris had said. “Forgive me, but you’ll find that you and sympathy don’t often go together in my head.”
“Sympathy is useless. Self restraint would be a better term.”
Crickets echoed distantly, and neither man spoke. Anders’ was desperately scanning the ground beside him, trying to understand what in Andraste’s name was even happening.
“I was unaware you could sing.”
The sudden break of silence came as a surprise and Anders finally turned his head back to look at the man beside him. He was staring into the horizon, eyes distant and mouth turned down in some kind of grudging grimace.
“What?”
“I’ve never heard you sing. I was unaware you could.”
“I do not sing as a performance, nor do I sing for the likes of you.” Anders said.
The corners of the elf’s mouth shot down and his gaze flashed over to meet Anders’.
“I’m not here to trade petty insults, mage.”
“Then what are you here for?” Anders cried almost exasperatedly. “I didn’t ask you to come here! I didn’t ask!”
“Fine.” The growl came out low and final, and Fenris immediately got up and started walking away.
“Fenris! Fucking- goddammit. Wait!” The elf paused, and even in the dark Anders could see the muscles in his forearm twitch. “Just, come back? I wasn’t trying to insult you. I’m simply dumbfounded why you even decided to do more than mockingly watch me from a distance.”
Fenris turned around, but stayed where he stood with arms crossed.
“Listen. We have never had a conversation that ended without you insulting, belittling, or otherwise being an asshole to me. Never once have you given me any indication that you anything less than despise me and everything I stand for. How is it fair for you to simply show up and expect me to understand? So, I ask for the third and final time- Why are you here?”
The silence stretched so long that Anders gave up on expecting anything from him and got up to leave.
“Just leave me alone if you won’t-”
“I thought I might have been wrong.”
Anders promptly tripped over himself and nearly fell on his face. Fenris made no move to help.
Anders struggled to his feet and stared, dumbfounded.
“I just-” Fenris broke himself off, visibly bristling. “Monsters don’t sing like you do.”
After a few more seconds of silence, Anders chuckled despite himself. “That might have been the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.”
It sounded so ridiculous that it almost made sense.
After all the countless hours and frustrations of explaining the pain mages have gone through, that he’s gone through, the one thing that made Fenris realize he wasn’t evil was the fact he could sing.
“Would you like to discuss it?” Anders asked.
“No.”
“We’ve finally made a breakthrough, Fenris- We could talk.”
“No.”
“I’m still the abomination, the mage to you? Would it be so fucking difficult to have a conversation for the first time?”
“I don’t hate you because you’re a mage, Anders. I hate you because you’re too biased to truly understand the danger that your kind has subjected themselves and everyone else to. Blood mages and abominations run rampant and all you can focus on is the technicality of innocence. You ignore what harm has actually been done, and that despite any mage’s current place in life, at any point they could put more chaos and demons and blood in the world.”
“I will not give up my freedom as a punishment for the gifts the Maker gave me. Anyone, regardless of who they are, can take the tools they possess and do terrible things to the world around them.
“You use the lyrium you’re branded with to thrust your fist into the bodies of your enemies and tear their life from them, while I’ve dedicated my life and my magic to bringing those on the brink of death back to life, back to their families and loved ones. I’ve saved countless lives and eased others’ pain. Have I not saved your own life more than once? Have I not saved Hawke’s and everyone else’s?
“Yet despite everything I do to bring good, and justice back to the world, I’m hunted down so that they can lock me away where I might never see the sun again. Where I’ll be nothing but a templar’s pet for them to abuse when they feel like it and then be turned to their slave when I do the slightest thing out of line.
“Will locking us all up help the rate of abominations and deaths? Will abusing us make it less likely for any individual to turn to blood magic simply because they want their freedom? You escaped your land of slavery only to support it in turn because of your single experience.”
Anders didn’t notice the tears running down his face until his voice gave out. The effort of trying to explain to someone who wouldn’t listen while trying to hold back Justice was too much. Fenris would never listen. He would never care.
It took a few tries, but Anders eventually got out. “Excuse me, I’m going back to camp.” And left without allowing himself to listen to or be hurt by anything Fenris had to say.