#here be dicks

Anders sighs but he takes a long slow inhale to keep his temper, setting down the ladle and turning to face the elf. He chooses to ignore the suspicious way Fenris is staring at Maddox.”Because Samson said he has nowhere to go and no, I hate Tranquility. Not the Tranquil. That’s like hating slaves instead of slavery.” Anders sighs again as he looks to Maddox picking through the sand down the beach. 

It’s hot today. It’s always hot but Anders has to notice it more now. He has to be mindful of guiding Maddox out of the sun, of suggesting he stand out of the wind that’s blowing the smoke from Anders’ potions, of thinking for Maddox’ wellbeing because Maddox can’t do that any more. He just looks at Anders with blank resignation and Anders tries not to flinch remembering that look on Karl’s face. 

Of the knife in his hand, Karl’s pleas in his ears…

Anders’ closes his eyes. ”Just leave him be, Fenris.”

He turns back to the little outdoor brewing station he has set up, eyes flicking to Maddox to make sure he is safe and still methodically collecting seashells like Anders thinks he enjoys. Anders hopes he does, despite knowing that Maddox can’t enjoy anything any more. Anders shivers and he flinches when Fenris reaches out to him. Fenris jerks his hand back when Anders flashes him a warning look. “He frightens you.” Fenris says, frowning. Like a dog with a bone he won’t let it lie and Anders is shaking with the effort of keeping his temper in check- of keeping Justice in check. 

“Maddox is harmless.” He bites out.

Fenris shakes his head. “He is a reminder of what you fear becoming. And of what you lost a loved one to.”

Anders whirls around and he knows his skin is cracked with blue without looking, he can see Fenris’ eyes drop to his bare chest and it’s the confirmation he needs. “Don’t act like you understand! You have no idea!” There is a snap of the fade to his voice, an echo of might and power and magic.

Fenris’ frown deepens. “I thought you said we were alike?”

“You made it very clear we were not.” Anders buries his face in his hands, willing Justice to recede and the rage to subside. If Maddox comes near him like this he might… like Karl… he might not be in love with Maddox but another tranquil begging to end his life? Or worse, being content? Anders does not want Maddox here, and some days he has to fight to look at him and see that scorched sun burned into his skin, but Anders will not abandon Maddox to the Chantry’s false care or someone else’s tender mercies. There are too many in this world, too eager to take advantage of someone who cannot care to argue or fight back. “You acting like you understand the plight of mages is just… wrong.”

Fenris scoffs. “I can have sympathy for one mage without feeling it for them all.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort? You hate all mages but I’m the exception?! How kind of you, serah!” Anders head snaps up with an accusing bite.

“You hate templars but you’re friends with Samson, do not speak to me of hypocrisy, mage!” Fenris matches his anger and this is good, this is an outlet- he can take the anger and the fight easier than the grief.

“Ex-templar! He got cast out, he can take that armour and skirt off and he is a man with a lyrium addiction same as anyone who decided to start taking lyrium- the only way I stop being a mage is with that brand on my forehead!” Anders hiccups a breath and he doesn’t want to cry, hot behind his eyes and burning with everything he’s bitten down since Samson left Maddox here. Fenris has always had a way with picking at the things Anders wants left alone. “No more magic, no more feelings, no more choices- a good little tranquil pet that can’t even cast a wisp! No more Anders!”

Fenris is silent in the wake of Anders’ words. Loud and echoing in the still of the afternoon, Fenris does not shout back as Anders expected. He watches Anders for a moment and then he sighs. “Samson should never have left Maddox with you.” Anders is shaking and he can’t stop it, fear and anger and Justice burning under his skin and all that he can see is that horrifying nightmare of that damned mark. “Anders…” He steps closer but stops when Anders tenses. “You’re right. I don’t understand. But I do have sympathy. His presence is… distressing to you.”

“No shit.” Anders hears his voice crack on the last syllable and presses his hands to his face again. He does not flinch away when Fenris reaches out to him again, a warm weight of Fenris’ hand on his shoulder as Anders gathers himself.

Fenris does not need to ask to know that Anders will not abandon Maddox, he has already made it clear he will not, so all he can do is assure Anders with what comfort he can offer. 

----

This was never going to work. The plan was simple enough in it’s design but Cullen took issue with the key factor Samson was pinning all of it on; namely Cullen. Their target had a fancy for broader ladies and as much makeup as Dorian had insisted he wear, Cullen was reasonably certain he still wouldn’t pass for a women under scrutiny. If it didn’t work, then it didn’t work. It wasn’t too big a deal, they had a backup plan. Cullen knew this was likely just to embarrass him. Get him to wear a bustle skirt and a corset, stockings exposed like a tavern whore. If his mother could see him now...

Cullen shoved it all down and stepped deliberately into the room. In three steps he felt gazes on him but forced himself not to look as he meandered slowly through the tables- dancing out of reach of leery hands- and towards the back room. A hand closed on his rear when he was barely through the door.

“Well hello there, beautiful...” Cullen’s nose scrunched as hot, sour breath ghosted over his neck. The hands wandered as they stepped further in but Samson’s gun cocked near by and the door to the back room shut, Cullen and Samson alone with their guest who inhaled in alarm.

“That cannot have worked.” Cullen said in horror.