#kandersgiving

Everyone who was in the library crowded to the windows to watch. The Anders kid was in the yard, still chained up in heavy runed cuffs, hunched over under the autumn drizzle. All down his right side his robes were caked in mud, and his whole left cheek was a swollen, blood-crusted mess. The templar who held the end of the chain fastened it to a ring in the wall and left the kid there, tethered like a horse, with two other templars keeping guard.

“It’s his third time,” said on of the apprentices, a boy about Anders’ age, fifteen or so. “He’d been gone for months. We all thought he’d be dead by now.”

The templar who’d gone inside to announce the success of their hunt had come out again, followed by the Knight-Commander, the Knight-Captain, the First Enchanter and a few senior mages. They stood around the boy, talked among themselves for a while, then began questioning him. He kept his head down until one of the templars smacked him under his chin. He looked up and sullenly fixed his eyes on the wall, but he began to say something. Karl tried to read his lips, curious, fascinated, but couldn’t make out anything.

“He’ll get a whipping this time, you’ll see,” the first boy said. “They won’t just let him keep running. Thirty lashes, I bet.”

“He’s not Harrowed,” said someone else, with something like a disappointment in their voice. That was a good point: torturing young, weak mages was how you got abominations. The templars wouldn’t want to be held responsible. They usually left the apprentices to the mercies of the senior enchanters.

“Solitary, then. Let’s see him try to run from there, from the cage.”

The interrogation continued, even as the mages’ robes darkened from the rain. From the way Anders shuffled on his feet and pulled on the chain Karl could tell he was exhausted. The boy fell silent, ignored a repeated question, and received a hard shove to his back from one of his templar guards.

This is a spectacle, Karl thought. All for our benefit. Entertainment, to keep us placid. A lesson, to keep us scared.

“Look at him, all freckled from the sun,” said a new voice. “We’ve not been outside since he jumped into the lake. They better punish him properly this time.”

“They should make him Tranquil.”

“They won’t. He’s a spirit healer.”

“So what, he can do what he wants? They have to do something.”

There was a chorus of agreement. If anyone was friends with Anders, or had any sympathy for him, they kept silent. But then, so did Karl.

The templars led Anders inside the tower and everyone went back to their books, as if they’d all lost interest.

Anders didn’t turn up at dinner, or to any of the classes. Karl checked the apprentice dormitories, the baths, the library, and even tried to sneak to the detention level, but found no signs of him.

If they did make him Tranquil, he might never see him again. A lot of the Tranquil worked in the areas off-limits for mages: the kitchens, the laundry, the enchantment workshop. He wouldn’t ever know for sure what had happened, unless Anders would be put on cleaning duty and Karl would bump into him quietly scrubbing floors or stripping beds somewhere.

At supper Anders suddenly showed up at the dining hall: in fresh robes, his hair still wet from the baths, no brand on his forehead. His bruises hadn’t been healed. On his clean face they looked even starker: black and swollen, striped with drying scabs. A templar at the door stopped Anders, inspected his cheek, nodded and let him through.

Anders filled his bowl, took his bread and sat at the end of the table, by himself.

Their side of the hall was quiet for a moment, all eyes on him while he stared at his food. Once he began to eat, wolfing his stew like a man starved, the talk began again, louder now. A boy from another apprentices’ table finished whispering to his friends and moved over to perch on Karl’s bench.

“We’re throwing him a party tonight,” he said. “Everyone’s invited. No magic, obviously, we don’t want to get in trouble. Just fists.”

“You want to beat him up?” Karl asked, disbelieving. “Why?”

“Did you forget? We were locked in our cells for a week after he ran, until the templars found out how he did it. And last year, with the lake--”

“He didn’t do anything to us. The templars did.”

“Yeah, because of him! That must be why they didn’t let him heal up. To let us know it’s all right.”

Karl swallowed his last spoonful and stood up. He had about three years on this kid, and nearly a foot in height. Besides, he was Karl Thekla. They knew who he was.

“Nobody touches him,” he said, just loudly enough. He stared the kid down until he ducked his head and quietly slunk away. Then Karl went over to sit next to Anders.

He was still eating, visibly struggling to slow down and chew properly. He gave Karl a wary glance and stuffed the rest of his bread in his mouth, as if Karl was coming to steal it. His fingers, Karl could see now, were bruised too, every knuckle scraped bloody.

“Hey,” Karl said. “I’m Karl Thekla.”

“I know,” Anders said with his mouth full. “The best fire mage in our generation.”

“I try,” Karl said modestly.

“They say you could have been Harrowed at seventeen, you were that good. What happened, where did it all go wrong, how come you’re still an apprentice?”

Irwing had been pushing for an early Harrowing, just to show off their fire prodigy. Karl’s mentor had somehow convinced him to wait a few more years. He’d always said: Karl, it’s not about the size of your fireballs. Unless you fix your attitude problem, any third-rate Rage demon will have you for breakfast.

“That was just last year, I’m only eighteen now,” Karl said.

“Yeah? You look about thirty with this stupid beard. So what does great Karl Thekla want with me? Came to tell me to sleep with one eye open?”

“No, you can sleep properly, you’re fine. I wanted to ask why you didn’t heal yourself.”

“Oh,” said Anders and carefully scraped the last of the stew from his bowl. “They wanted everyone to see what there are consequences, and so on. They said it’s this or solitary. I’m still deciding.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nothing’s broken. I don’t care, it’s just, they said next time it’s definitely solitary.”

“Next time? Are you really going to try again?”

“Yes,” said Anders. “If you’re spying for the templars - tell them, they already fucking know. Again and always until I’m free.”

It was a stupid teenage boy’s boast, but there was some strange music to it that echoed in Karl’s mind: again and always. Until he’s free.

“How?” he asked quietly, and Anders’ eyes lit up a little.

“That’s actually easy,” he said. “Thing is, we’re not guarded all that well. I have about five new escape ideas already. The reason everyone doesn’t run isn’t because it’s hard. They’re just cowards. If we all ran, they couldn’t catch us all. Right?”

“You’re mad, you know?” Karl said reverently. “Do you want to meet up tomorrow in the library? I’m always in the arcane section. We could talk more.”

“Why?” Anders asked and waved his arm around. “Did you not notice the general feeling toward me? You don’t want to be seen with me.”

“I don’t care. I think you’re amazing.”

A few notes on the world of this AU, for those of you not reading my Fenders fic “Hard Up in Hightown”:  This takes place in a modern Thedas, so magic, elves, dwarves etc. still exist.  The Circles of Magi are now casually referred to as CoM’s, and while they aren’t quite as bad as they used to be, they still aren’t great.  The CoM is still run by the Chantry and overseen by a precinct of Templars (who basically serve as police/SWAT for magical issues).  Think of a really strict Catholic boarding school with a police presence that you aren’t allowed to leave until you pass a really difficult test (aka the Harrowing).  The old Kinloch Circle tower has been torn down by this point, and the new much larger Kinloch CoM is on the rural outskirts of Redcliff.  Mages can live and work outside the CoM once they are Harrowed, but they have a Chantry Sunburst tattooed on their wrist when the come to the CoM to be easily identified on sight as a “potential threat”.  The mages rebel in small ways when they can, like drawing smiley faces and the like on each other’s Sunbursts as a show of support/solidarity.  

Also a warning, while there is no sex in this story, underage sex is mentioned (all parties under 18).  There is also mention of bi/homophobia and bullying.

So without further ado, Karl and Anders’ first date in my HUIH modern!AU universe.

Charmer, class clown, mischief maker, playboy.

Anders had been called many things by his teachers and classmates.  He’d been called worse by the blighted Templars bullshitting in the staffroom, but they could sod right off.  Still, most anything was better than what they used to call him.  Nerd, sissy, crybaby, fag, loser...  “Aw, miss your mommy?” the other children had taunted when he’d first arrived, still struggling in the painful throes of homesickness. Yes, yes he bloody well did miss his mother, but apparently that made him a sissy momma’s boy, which was no good.  Anders supposed he should be thankful he got as many years at home with his mother as he did, but even that had been a double edged sword.  “You can’t even make a proper Spirit bolt! Are you stupid or something?!”  No, I just haven’t had bloody years of practice like you lot!  He’d always think bitterly as the others who’d lived in the CoM at least half their lives ganged up to pick on the pathetic late bloomer, hot tears of embarrassment clouding his eyes and stopping the words from leaving his tightened throat.  He’d gotten better hold of his magic in time of course, even found a special talent for Spirit Healing, and slowly began to surpass his peers.  Perhaps he was stupid after all.  “You think you’re smarter than us or something?!” “Enchanter’s pet!” “Healing is for pussies!” the other boys jeered, their hands flaring menacingly with bursts of fire and lightening as they cornered him, their eyes burning with jealousy when the Senior Enchanters fawned over Anders’ ‘rare gift’. It wasn’t as though he’d asked to be a quick study or good at healing.  He hadn’t asked for any of it.

Hadn’t asked for the strange giddy tingling he felt in his gut when he looked at the dirty girly magazine one of the older apprentices snuck in.  Certainly hadn’t asked to feel that same tingling when he looked at the other boys in the locker room too.  “See something you like fag?”  He’d gotten a black eye and a proposition out of that episode, so he supposed it had been a wash.  He soon discovered one activity he was good at that the others seemed to appreciate him for.  The girls didn’t think he was such a loser when he was going down on them under the covers, or fucking their brains out in a janitor’s closet.  The boys forgot all about picking on him when they had him bent over a table or their cock deep in his throat.  Sex was a currency Anders could deal in to buy acceptance, and it wasn’t as though it didn’t have the side benefit of being fun.  Certainly more fun than slogging through his studies with a bunch of people that hated him.  Suddenly Anders was fun, a good time, easy.

Yes, all things considered, he’d take his new reputation over his old one any day.  He wasn’t sure anymore which title was the real him, or if he fell somewhere in between, but it hardly mattered.  In order to survive in this prison, you had to decide whose opinion you cared for and be enough of who they wanted you to be to get by.  A gifted but lazy pupil for the Enchanters, an irritating but ultimately harmless thorn in the Templars’ sides, a pushover and a pretty face for his classmates.  At least it was better than being a punching bag.  “You’ve got a natural talent Mr. Anderson.  If you would only apply yourself…”  “Anders is in trouble with the Templars again, can you believe the bollocks on that guy?!”  “I heard that Anders threw the exam on Arcane spells so he didn’t fuck up the curve for us again.  That guy’s alright.”  “You looking for a good ride?  Hit up Anders, he’s always up for it.”  

Lately however, there was only one title he’d been longing for that seemed near impossible.  ‘Boyfriend of one Karl Thekla’.  Anders had been at the CoM a couple years before he’d first noticed him, the other boy being two years older than him, three grades higher, and about a million times out of his league.  Once he had seen him though, sweet Maker, that was it.  The older boy had been out in the yard, sweat glistening on his brow, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie loosened to sway with the movement of the staff in his hands. No one used a staff anymore, the large cumbersome weapons a relic of a bygone age now that newer more compact options were available for military mage units (and discouraged altogether for the rest of them).  Marshal applications of magic were seen as outdated and dangerous in the more ‘civilized’ modern age.  Though as Anders watched the smooth wooden staff twirl fluidly in his strong sure grip to make the elements dance in the air around him, he couldn’t see it as anything but beautiful.

Learning to wield a staff had been one of the few things Anders had been excited about when he discovered he was a mage.  It seemed so heroic and romantic, just like the strong and powerful mages he read about from ages of sword fights and dragon slaying.  It had only turned out to be another source of ridicule for him. “Only nerds learn staffwork, it’s so old fashioned.”  He’d put the staff aside, put his dreams aside, once he’d learned how foolish they were. Surely Karl had gotten the same advice. Clearly he did not care what others thought of him.

Indeed, the older boy did have a reputation of being a bit of a bookworm, even a nerd, but where Anders had self-consciously rejected those labels, Karl seemed to revel in them. He was a model student, a real Enchanter’s pet.  Perfect grades and a mentor to others.  Even the Templars spoke highly of him.  He was popular with the other students too, despite his bookish nature.  Anders was fascinated to see others treat Karl’s intelligence and success with respect rather than the disdain he had received. He wanted to hate him for it at first, but when he saw Karl accept praise with a soft humble smile and handsomely blushing cheeks, or when he met his few detractors and bullies with a confident smirk and firm brush off, Anders found himself falling for him instead.

As if his intelligence and personable nature hadn’t been enough, Maker but the man was gorgeous!  He was one of the few boys that matched Anders’ gangly all elbows and knees Anderfels bred height, though Karl managed it much more gracefully. His close shorn hair had gone completely grey in recent years, only a few wisps of his original chestnut locks still holding out hope along his temples.  Anders had heard rumors that someone had cursed the older student for besting them in a quiz, or that it had been an alchemy experiment gone wrong. His personal favorite was the conspiracy theory that Karl was actually a Senior Enchanter masquerading as an apprentice to keep tabs on the student body.  Regardless of the truth, Anders found Karl’s unique appearance to be quite fetching, his slate grey hair and dusting of salt and pepper stubble along his jaw giving him and air of wisdom and experience, while his lively ice blue eyes sparkled with the intelligence and vibrancy of youth.  I wouldn’t mind him keeping tabs on this student body.  Anders thought wistfully, unsure if Karl was even interested in boys.  He’d never seen him show romantic interest in anyone since he began observing him, but he certainly hoped he could pique his interest in at least one boy in particular.

So the chase began, though it quickly became apparent that it was less of a flirtatious cat and mouse courtship and more of Anders taking a fumbling step or two before running into a brick wall.  After he’d finally gotten the nerve to introduce himself and promptly start ‘running into him’ entirely too often to have been accidental, Karl couldn’t have been nicer… nor less interested in anything but the tamest exchange of pleasantries.  “How are your studies going?”  “Enchanter Wynne tells me you scored top marks on the Creation final, good show!” Nice bloody sodding weather we’re having isn’t it?  He only seemed interested in Anders’ academic accomplishments, or occasionally concerned about his habit of Templar hassling, but he didn’t seem interested in getting to know each other a little better (preferably with fewer layers on).  Clearly more extreme measures would have to be taken to get his attention.  

Perhaps a change of scenery was in order.  Nothing better than a little adventure to get Karl’s mind off of his studies and on to how daring and creative Anders was.  He just needed to sweep Karl off his feet… and Anders knew just the thing to do it.

“Karl, Karl wait up!”

The older boy turned to furrow his dark eyebrows oh-so-sexily in concern.  “Anders!  What’s wrong?”

Anders adopted just the right amount of sheepish embarrassment, Maker he had to play this just right.  He ushered him over to a darkened corner and whispered.  “I’m so glad I found you.  Karl you’ve got to help me!”  

The older boy’s features took on a serious expression as he nodded solemnly.  He reached to grasp his shoulder, “How can I help?”

He touched me he touched me he’stouchingme!!!!!  Taking a deep breath, Anders slowly started to weave his tale.  “I was studying for Uldred’s test all afternoon and I completely lost track of time!  It’s my turn to weed the entrance flower beds and I completely forgot!”

“It’s nearly curfew!” Karl said, with a touch more concern than censure.  Perfect.

“I know!  Greagior’s going to murder me if I don’t finish my chores again!”

He quirked a rather cynical brow.  “The Knight Commander isn’t going to kill you over a bit of missed gardening Anders.”

Damn it, got too dramatic.  He pouted ever so slightly in a brilliant bit of misdirection if he did say so himself.  “I know, but he’ll probably punish me.”  Karl nodded his agreement with something like pity.  Anders would take pity!  “But I figure, maybe, if you helped me…”

“There’s no way it would be finished in time, even if both of us worked on it…”  He said unsteadily, clearly considering it regardless.

Anders coyly tucked his hair behind his ear and turned shimmering eyes on the unsuspecting boy, pulling him further into his tangled web of lies.  “Please Karl!  I’m sure we could at least make some headway, and maybe he won’t punish me as badly.” Karl’s dismay was written on his face as plain as day, his full and utterly kissable bottom lip worrying between his straight white teeth as he considered Anders’ dilemma.  “Please Karl, I just got so carried away with my studies… I figured you’d understand…”

Time seemed to stand still as he waited to see if Karl had bought his story.  Finally, the older boy sighed with resignation, “Alright, I’ll help you out.”  Yes!

A wide smile bloomed on Anders’ features, a giddy rush of excitement filling him as he muttered his thanks and quickly took Karl’s hand in his to drag him down the hall.

Karl’s cheeks were flushed when they reached their destination at the CoM’s front gates. Anders wasn’t certain whether the other boy’s blush was the result of the excursion of their jog or the feeling of their clasped hands, but he certainly knew the cause of his own blush. Karl gasped softly when he realized they had stopped running but their hands had not stopped holding, the older boy jumping slightly and hastily pulling his hand away to fuss at his tie. Anders began sneaking toward the small parking lot beside the weed laden flower beds, his true target in his sights as Karl began rolling up his sleeves.

The older boy’s gaze snapped from sizing up their task to the source of the noise made by Anders opening up the door to one of several parked Templar squad cars.  “Maker’s Breath Anders, what are you doing?”  He hissed, quickly making his way over to nervously hover on the other side of the car.

Anders answered with his most charming smile.  “I’m just going to turn on the radio.  I do it every time I have chores out here.  It makes the work go faster.”

“Did the Templars give you permission?”

Maker how could such a serious expression look so sexy?!  “Sure,” he lied through his teeth with practiced ease, “They don’t care, as long as the work gets done.”  Without further ado he climbed in the driver’s seat and made a show of fumbling with the radio with all the skill and finesse of a dyslexic darkspawn.

Karl grimaced at the blaring snippets of music scattered between long bursts of ear splitting static. “Oh for Maker’s sake.”  He muttered as he clamored into the passenger side.  “Let me do it.  The sooner we find a station the sooner we can get started.”

Anders did his best to suppress the shiver that ran through him when Karl’s fingers brushed his as he reached for the stereo knobs.  With a smirk on his lips and a song in his heart (as well as on the radio thanks to Karl), Anders shot a jolt of lightening magic into the car’s ignition. The doors clicked loudly and locked as one, and the engine roared to life.  Anders would never have imagined the straight laced Karl Thekla could even conceive of such filthy euphemisms for the Maker and his bride’s anatomy, let alone let them past his perfect lips as the squad car peeled out of the CoM’s driveway, but Maker was it ever hot.

“-fucking Maker’s Wrinkled Sack- for the love of- watch out!”  He flinched and scrambled to strap himself in as the car swerved dizzyingly. “What are you thinking?!  Can you even drive?!”

“I guess we’ll find out! I say if those blighted Templars can do it, it can’t be that hard right?”  Anders beamed at his terrified passenger, the car drifting perilously over the center lane. “Come on, live a little!”  

“For Maker’s sake watch the road!  And put a seat belt on!”  He crossed his arms mutinously, only to uncross them just as quickly to reach out and steady the wheel as Anders wrestled with his belt.

Once Anders was safely buckled and had gotten the hang of keeping the vehicle going in a relatively straight line, the frantic atmosphere inside the cruiser cooled to a frigid silence. “So… we’re headed toward Redcliff… anywhere you want to go?”  He asked timidly, nearly shivering at the chilly aura radiating from Karl’s tense frame.

“Turn around.”

“Aw come on, when are we going to get another chance like this?  Getting one over on the Templars, getting out of the bloody CoM, Ferelden is our oyster-“

“And detention, suspension of privileges, increased scrutiny and marks on our permanent records will be the shining pearl for our efforts.”  

Anders grinned, “I hear there’s a ‘Pearl’ in Denerim, if you’re up for a road trip.”

He could see Karl’s clenched fists tighten out the corner of his eye.  “Maker don’t you ever think about your actions?!”  Karl muttered through clenched teeth.

His smile fell.  “I- I just thought we could go somewhere fun together…”

“I want to go home.”

Anders couldn’t help but scoff.  “Home’s quite a way from here for me, what about you?”

“You know what I mean.”

Amber eyes narrowed on the road ahead.  “And you know what I mean.”

The car descended into uncomfortable silence.  So much for my exciting date plan.  At least he’s noticed me now, too bad it’s because he hates me.  As the adrenalin of his daring escape wore off, Anders had to concede that Karl had a point about the massive trouble they’d be in when they returned.  It had all seemed so glamorous in his head, he’d show Karl how clever and brave he was and take him out somewhere exciting that no one else would dare.  Apparently that exciting place would be the Senior Enchanter’s office.  Anders sighed sadly and kept his eyes out for a place to pull over and maneuver the car around.  So far the road taking them from the relatively secluded Kinloch CoM into the Redcliff suburbs only consisted of one lane each direction, and Anders didn’t possess the faith in his fledgling driving prowess to attempt a u-turn in one of these blighted boats the Templars drove.  

Anders cleared his throat awkwardly and reached for the radio, hoping to drown out the oppressive silence.  “You want the radio up?”  He asked in a small hopeful voice, sending another spark of magic into the console.

The blighted lights and sirens came on.

After a bit of flailing and cursing on both boys’ parts they managed to find the manual control to turn the siren off, but the lights refused to yield.  Karl sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “Maker’s Breath, you probably blew the circuit.”

Anders opted to try and melt into the driver’s seat rather than attempt a reply.  He felt his eyes burn with shame and humiliation and hastily lifted an arm to scrub away the tears threatening to fall.  That’s just what he needed, to start bawling like a baby in front of his increasingly unimpressed crush, that’ll be sure to win him over!

They drove on in silence, the tires humming softly against the pavement as flashes of red and blue lit up the plains and edges of Karl’s handsome features.  At least the occasional car they passed steered clear.  Finally, they came upon the first sign of civilization in the form of a Burger Arl’s shining like a beacon in the night. Anders found the turn signal easily enough, opting to activate it manually this time, and pulled into the parking lot without further incident.  A half-hearted jolt from Anders’ fingertips silenced the engine.  The blighted lights kept flashing.

The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, until Anders finally found the courage to whisper. “I’m sorry Karl.”

The younger mage braced himself for another well-deserved burst of anger, but it never came. “Anders… what were you thinking?” Karl sounded more baffled than anything, his brows furrowed thoughtfully over piercing silver blue eyes as he looked at Anders for the first time since their ill-fated joy ride began.

In a way his kindness was almost worse than his anger.  Karl didn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess, or rather unwillingly drug along into it. Anders felt tears threaten again and resolutely closed his eyes against them.  “I- I wanted to- to take you out, because… I- I like you.”  There, he’d said it.  Perhaps mumbled it would be a more appropriate description, but the words were out there all the same, ready to be rightfully torn to shreds.

“So… had you never thought to just… ask me if I’d like to go on a date with you?”

Maker why was he being so bloody nice?!  Anders scoffed, “Why would someone as perfect as you want to go out with a loser like me?”

Karl blinked.  “First of all, I’m not perfect, no one is.  But more importantly, who said you were a loser?”

“Who hasn’t?  I’m sure you’ve heard the talk.  Anders misses his mommy, keeps his little security pillow on his bed.  Anders is a nerd, always making us look bad on tests. Anders is too stupid to keep out of the Templars’ way.  Anders is a slut, he’ll drop trou for anyone.  Anders… Anders is a fucking joke.” He trailed off bitterly, having answered the question a little too honestly for his liking.

An uncomfortable beat of silence punctuated his outburst.  Just when Anders’ began to wonder if one could actually die of embarrassment, Karl sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then opened the car door.  “Come on then.  The Templars will no doubt be here soon enough; we might as well grab a burger while we wait.”

Anders blinked up at him in disbelief, and scrambled to follow.  Just as his cheeks had begun to cool from the flush of humiliation, Anders’ blush returned with a vengeance when Karl stood beside the door and held it open, his fingers ghosting gently over the small of his back as he made his bewildered way inside.

“I- um- it’s my treat.  Get whatever you want.”  Anders whispered with a feeble confused sort of hope.  It looked as though Karl was going to argue, but Anders beat him to it. “Please, it’s the least I can do.” A small smile bloomed across his lips at Karl’s eventual nod.

After an awkward deliberation on what to order, and an even more awkward conversation with the cashier about the abandoned Templar squad car with its lights flashing in the parking lot, the boys sat down to enjoy their Big Arls, Orlesian fries and fountain Frostback Dews.  

“You know that cashier called the CoM to report us right?”  Karl asked with surprising calm as he dipped a fry into his ketchup and took a bite.  

“Yes.”  Anders sighed miserably.  “So just how big a trouble do you think I’m in?”

Karl quirked an eyebrow. “We’re in.”

“No way,” Anders’ short blond ponytail swayed with reckless abandon as he vehemently shook his head, “I’ll take full responsibility.  This wasn’t your idea!”

“Yet here I am.”  He replied dryly, popping another fry in his mouth.

Anders chewed thoughtfully on his Big Arl.  It was overcooked, but at least it was something different from the garbage the CoM fed them.  “Ok, assuming I can’t convince them not to punish you, which I can, how much trouble do you think we’re in?”

The older boy shrugged. “Who knows?  You can bet I’ll be banned from staffwork for a while.  It’s a privilege you’ve got to earn, so I suppose I’ll have to earn it back…”

“A privilege?  Explains why I’ve never gotten to try it.”  Anders said with a faint bark of laughter.

Karl’s brows peaked with interest.  “You’re interested in staff training?”

“Of course!  It’s so cool, especially when you wield, you make it look so beautiful!”  His cheeks heated traitorously once again, but it was the truth.  Karl casting with a staff, sharp gaze focused intently on an invisible foe, muscles cording and shifting with fluid strength and speed… he was poetry in motion.

A hint of color rose to dust Karl’s cheeks.  “You- you’ve watched me?”  Anders could only nod sheepishly, which only served to cause the other boy’s blush to creep further towards his ears.  “Most people just laugh and tell me it’s old fashioned.  It’s nice to find someone else interested in the art.”

“People said the same to me, but I always thought it was cool to see how mages used to fight ages ago.”

“Exactly!”  Karl seemed to come alive, his hands gesturing wildly as a smile lit up his features.  “Wielding a staff used to be a vital skill for a mage, and now it’s a dying art!  It’s such a shame to lose that part of our heritage as mages in the name of progress!”

Anders had always felt a strange sort of sadness to see other mages react with distain toward his interest in the art form, but never had he heard his feelings so eloquently stated. He couldn’t help the dreamy sort of sigh that escaped him.  “I thought I was the only one who felt that way.  I mean, mage’s used to have it so much worse than we do now, but it’s still not like it should be!  The Chantry still tells us we’re cursed and mark us against our will,” Karl’s fingers lightly grazed the sunburst on Anders’ wrist where it lay beside his drink, “And if that isn’t bad enough, we mages are rejecting our own history and culture!”

“I agree!”

As exhilarating as it was to hear that Karl was of a like mind in regards to Anders’ opinionated views, it simply didn’t fit with the neat and orderly picture he’d made of Karl Thekla.  He repeatedly dunked a fry into his ketchup, his brows furrowed seriously.  “So, if you feel that way… why are you so happy in the CoM?  I mean, why do you let the Templars push you around… how can you think of it as home?”

Karl seemed to give the question serious thought before answering.  “Because I know I’m still just a kid in society’s eyes.  I haven’t passed my harrowing yet, I can’t buy a drink or vote for Parliament… though I wager I’m a better driver than some people,” he winked and gave Anders a faint smirk before sobering, “Anyway, If I’m stuck in the CoM, for better or worse, I figure I might as well make the best of it and learn all that I can now. I don’t like the Templars lording over us any more than you do, but if I rail against them, all I’ll be to the ones who make the decisions is a whiny petulant child.  But,” he hurried to continue at seeing Anders’ mutinous expression, “If I can just make it out of the CoM and become a full member of society whose voice can count for something, then I fully intend to start raising it.”

A slow smile bloomed across Anders’ lips, his eyes alight with mischief.  “And here I thought I was the troublemaker…” his hand shifted to brush boldly against the older boy’s open palm, Karl’s long graceful fingers curling gently around his-

“I hope I’m not interrupting you gentlemen?”  Both boys’ snatched their hands back with lightning speed and sat up straight at Knight-Corporal Cullen’s approach.  He wasn’t much older than they were, perhaps just barely 20, but his crisp uniform, shining silver badge emblazoned with the flaming sword and fully laden holster made it clear who was in charge.  

“Alright boys, you know the drill.”  He said seriously, though his expression betrayed a hint of bemusement. It likely wasn’t every day a couple of apprentices stole a squad car in order to take a joy ride to Burger Arl’s.

Anders certainly knew the drill, but even Karl had been trained on how to respond when being detained by a Templar.  No matter how seemingly benign the situation, these sorts of altercations went south all too quickly, all too often.  Cullen casually rested his hand on his sidearm as both young mages raised their hands to press their palms together, making it harder for them to cast effectively without injuring themselves in the process.  Anders scowled at the completely unnecessary show of force, but at least Cullen wasn’t one of those bastards that unclipped the leather strap holding the gun in the holster just to be an arse, like some of the older Templars Anders had had the pleasure of pissing off.  Once their hands were in plain view Cullen took out a small pack and removed two nearly translucent strips.  “Out.”  He ordered calmly.

Anders stuck out his tongue and shuddered slightly as the pungent bitter taste of the magebane strip made contact and instantly dissolved across his tastebuds.  Judging by the grimace on Karl’s face, this was his first taste of ‘bane, and he didn’t seem to be enjoying it.  Honey brown eyes met ice blue and silently conveyed as much of an apology as he was able.  Judging by the way the ice melted ever so slightly, Anders felt his message had gotten across.

It didn’t take long for the magebane to do its job, and after Cullen consulted his watch for about 30 seconds, the tension seemed to bleed from his frame with a sigh. “Alright boys, unfortunately date night is over.”  The Templar teased, handily renewing Karl’s blush.  “Come along now.”  Karl obediently rose to follow-

“Don’t we at least get to take our dinner with us?”  Anders challenged, his head held high in the face of the Knight-Corporal’s incredulous expression.

“I hardly think-“

“I paid for it didn’t I?”

Karl’s eyes widened, though Anders’ wasn’t certain whether he was impressed or horrified, but he’d settle for a mixture of the two.  Cullen hardly seemed to know what to make of him.  Anders defiantly raised a fry and took a bite, meeting the Templar’s steely gaze all the while.  That seemed to break him, as Cullen turned away with a shake of his head, though Anders’ didn’t miss the twitching of his lips either.  “Oh for Maker’s sake, why not?  Hurry up and pack your dinner then.”  He began heading for the exit, confident his charges would follow, “But Maker help you if you get crumbs in my cruiser!”

While their Templar escort’s back was turned, the two delinquent mages shared a secretive smile over their rustling bags as they filled them with now cold fries and half eaten burgers.

“I trust you both know why you’ve been called to my office today?”

“Yes First Enchanter Irving.”  Both apprentices answered solemnly.

“I think it’s fair to say that I have been given reason to expect this sort of behavior from you Mr. Anderson,” the elder mage pinned Anders with his gaze until the young man lowered his head in shame, “But from you Mr. Thekla?  When I first got the report that you were involved in this affair, I was certain there had to have been a mistake, yet here you stand before me. What do you have to say for yourself young man?”

“Ser I-“

“It was my fault First Enchanter!”  Anders blurted out desperately.  “I tricked him outside, and lied to get him into the car!  It was me that stole it and drove to Redcliff.  He kept telling me to go back!”

“Be that as it may, he is capable of making his own decisions, and his own mistakes-“

“But Ser-“

“Anders,” the soft plea in Karl’s voice stole Anders’ breath away, “Please, the First Enchanter is right.  I’m a senior apprentice and I’m meant to be a role model for others. There were other ways I could have handled the situation that didn’t involve going along with you.”

Anders opened his mouth to argue, but Irving spoke first.  “Well said Mr. Thekla.  While your willingness to take responsibility for your part in this is commendable Mr. Anderson, you are not the only guilty party, nor will you be alone in the punishment.”  He made a great show of stroking his beard and shuffling the offenders’ files, though he couldn’t completely hide the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  “I can certainly see the appeal of a late night run for Orlesian fries, especially given the quality of our cafeteria offerings,” he muttered absently before clearing his throat, “However, leaving campus without permission, after curfew, using a magically hotwired Templar squad car, is not the sort of behavior I can endorse or condone.”  He hummed thoughtfully and straightened his glasses to meet their eyes over the rims of his frames.  “As this is Mr. Thekla’s first offence, and in light of the positive report I received from Knight-Corporal Cullen upon your detainment, I will be lenient. You will both receive two weeks detention, two weeks suspension of privileges, and you will both spend this fine Saturday afternoon washing and detailing every Templar cruiser in the fleet. And-“ he pointed a finger square at Anders’ all too innocent smile, “If I hear of one speck of dirt left or anything out of place in any of those cars, it will be Knight-Commander Greagoir deciding your punishment, and you can rest assured he found your little joy ride far less entertaining than I did.”  

Anders returned the cheeky grin he spied lurking beneath the First Enchanter’s beard.  “Yes Ser.”  

By the time he and Karl reached the parking lot with buckets, sponges and soap in hand, his grin had long since faded.  He watched Karl resolutely strip off his blazer and tie before rolling up his shirtsleeves.  At any other time, Anders would have been drooling at the sight, but now the reason for the action only filled him with guilt.  “I’ll start on the car at the far end.”  He murmured, his head hanging low as he trudged off to face his punishment.

He scrubbed with furious energy, determined to get as much done as possible, if only to lighten the burden on Karl.  He didn’t deserve to be out here, didn’t deserve detention, didn’t deserve to lose his privilege to wield a staff, lose the one joy he’d found in this stupid place! Anders had wanted to be another joy to Karl, but instead he’d only brought him trouble.  Sorrowful amber eyes flitted up to check on Karl’s progress periodically.  They were washing and detailing at about the same rate, despite Anders’ efforts, but that wasn’t the truly remarkable thing he observed about Karl as he worked.  

He was… smiling. Despite him having every right to be furious at the mess Anders had gotten him into, Karl seemed perfectly happy every time Anders snuck a peek.  Karl had caught Anders’ wandering eyes a couple times and given him a little wave, sending soap suds flying and making Anders’ heart skip a beat.  Anders couldn’t believe his ears when he’d been bent over in the back of one of the squad cars, arse in the air and elbow deep beneath the passenger seat fishing out disposable coffee cups and candy wrappers, and heard a few stray notes floating across the air from a few cars down. Karl was bloody whistling.  

Through a combination of Anders’ guilt fueled scrubbing and Karl’s cheerful efforts, they both reached the final car at the same time.  Their eyes met over the roof of the car for the briefest of moments before Anders ducked away in shame.  They worked in silence, lathering the red and silver lines of the Templar cruiser until the blighted flaming sword on the hood gleamed.  Anders quietly slipped inside, his heart skipping a beat went the passenger seat squeaked as Karl settled in beside him.  The older boy began dutifully wiping down the dash with an oiled cloth, and Anders simply couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m so sorry!”  He blurted out suddenly, his voice cracking in that embarrassing way it always seemed to whenever he had something really important to say.  Anders groaned miserably and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel before him. “I’ve made such a mess of things! I should have listened to you, but I thought I was so cool, and now look where I’ve got you!  Spending your free day washing cars and sitting in detention for two weeks!”  It only seemed fitting that he’d start bloody crying, best remove any doubt of how completely pathetic he was.  “Maker I- I just wanted you to like me-“ he sniffled and continued in a broken whisper, “The way I like you… I like you so much Karl… and now, what you must think of me… I- I’m so sorry…”

Karl’s answering silence was all Anders needed to confirm just how badly he’d fucked up.  At least Karl had the decency to pretend the other boy wasn’t crying like a baby, where others surely would have taken the opportunity to mock him.  Karl’s too good a person to be petty and cruel like that… far too good for someone like me-

He was drawn rather abruptly from his moping by a spark of light, followed by the soft lilting notes of a song on… the car radio?  “Karl!?” Anders turned wide red-rimmed eyes on the older boy, meeting his sparkling silver blue eyes and finding mischief swimming in their depts.

“Makes the work go by faster.”  He murmured, a soft smirk upon his lips.  

Anders blinked in stunned shock as Karl calmly went back to his work, humming along to the upbeat tune coming from the stereo.  A smile twitched to Anders’ lips as he did the same.  The rest of the work went by quickly, spurred on by electric jolts that made his stomach flip flop and left him tingling all the way to his toes every time Anders snuck a glance at Karl, only to catch him sneaking them right back. As their fingers brushed the gear shift to give it a final wipe down, Anders found himself absurdly wishing there were more blighted Templar cruisers, if only so this moment wouldn’t end just yet.

Of course it did however, Karl grinning sheepishly and pulling his hand away to place it awkwardly in his lap.  Anders didn’t want to leave the car, didn’t want to speak, to breathe and break this quiet space they shared.  They were so close, just a few inches between them. This close, he could truly appreciate the varied shades of Karl’s beautifully unique hair, the length and graceful curve of his eyelashes, the thoughtful turn of his plush full lips as he studied his folded hands… Maker he’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

“Anders, do you remember when I asked you if you’d ever thought to just ask me out?”  Karl asked suddenly, looking up to see Anders nod dumbly in answer.  He swallowed and continued, “I think, if you had… my answer would have been no.”

Anders looked away in a feeble attempt to hide just how much his heart was shattered by Karl’s words. He huffed, a pale imitation of a laugh, falling back on humor to mask his hurt.  It had always worked before.  “Gee Karl, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”  Please don’t, please please don’t-

“I intend to.”  Karl breathed deep, and Anders braced himself. “I’ve noticed you Anders, I dare say everyone has, given the way you conduct yourself around here.  You want everyone to think you’re some sort of flippant bad boy who only cares about having a good time.  But I’m not everyone, and I think that’s nugshit.” Anders looked up at that, surprised honey brown eyes meeting serious silver blue.  “I’ve seen you help younger students that are struggling, I’ve seen you draw smiles on their ‘bursts when they’re scared or missing home, I’ve seen you studying when you think no one’s looking, not frowning like it’s a chore, but smiling because you enjoy it.  Anders, I’ve seen you heal.  It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and seeing how much you love doing it, seeing your eyes light up… it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  Anders breath caught, his heart pounding out of his chest as Karl’s words gently laid his soul bare, “You’re always selling yourself short trying to please everyone else, but where does that leave you?  Does it make you happy, hiding how smart you really are, giving up dreams because someone else thinks they’re stupid, sleeping around because you think that’s all anyone will ever appreciate you for?”

Anders choked back a sob and looked away, covering his eyes as a fresh cascade of tears began to fall. “I- that’s not- I-“ he took a shaky breath and reached for the courage to answer Karl with the same brutal honesty with which he had been asked, “No.”

Gentle warm fingers coaxed Anders’ hand away from his face as Karl’s hand took its place.  Anders’ gasped softly as the older mage’s thumb gently wiped away a lingering tear from his cheek.  “So take my advice, and do what makes you happy.  Excel in what you’re good at, help others that aren’t as gifted improve, and sod anyone who resents your talent.  Cry if you miss home, we all do sometimes, even the jerks that make fun of you for it. Be a nerd about stuff you’re passionate about, Maker knows I am!  And… share yourself with whoever you want, however you want, just… just make sure it’s really what you want, not what you think you need to give in exchange for acceptance.”

“Karl…” Anders whispered, reaching helplessly for Karl’s other hand where it rested on the center console separating their seats.  Karl’s hand shifted below his, and for a terrible moment Anders feared he would pull away, but instead he thread their fingers together, and Anders forgot how to breathe.

“So while I wouldn’t have gone out with that fake playboy I’ve seen strut around campus,” He continued, his fingers absently playing at the golden strands of hair on the back of the younger mage’s neck where his hand rested comfortably, “There was this great guy I started getting to know at Burger Arl’s last night, a guy who was smart and funny and who I think I’ve got a lot in common with.  So… if he were to ask me out, I wager I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

A watery smile broke over Anders’ features.  “R- really?”

Karl smiled so warmly, so bloody beautifully, his eyes sparkling playfully as he leaned to rest his forehead lightly against Anders’.  “You could always test my theory.”

He laughed, a rapidly spreading blush erasing the tear stains on his cheeks.  “Karl, would you- ah- I mean, if you want… will you go out with me?”

The soft brush of lips against his was better than any answer Anders could have anticipated.  Anders had been kissed before, had done much more than that before, but Maker… it had never felt like this.  There were so many sensations to revel in Karl’s kiss, and Anders’ gladly lost himself in each and every one.  The softness of his lips, the faint bumping of their noses, the way the older boy’s faint stubble rasped gently against his chin- and suddenly it was ending, the fleeting moment fading away as Karl pulled back with a soft intake of breath.

Anders had clumsily followed his lips before he’d fully comprehended doing it.  A soft murmur of the older boy’s surprise vibrated through their renewed kiss, but he didn’t seem displeased as he sunk into the embrace. They kept it chaste, no more than shared breath and shyly caressing lips, though in no way lacking in affection. Anders dared to let the hand not held in Karl’s grasp weave its way through the short strands of silver hair at the base of Karl’s neck.  His hair was softer than he’d imagined, his hands warmer, his kiss even more perfect than he’d dreamt.  

This time when Karl pulled away, Anders allowed it, if only reluctantly.  “So- so is that a yes?”  He asked, a dazed smile permanently plastered on his face, his fingers drawing lazy patterns in the soft pin prick hairs at the base of Karl’s hairline.

Karl laughed and planted a quick kiss on Anders’ nose before disentangling himself from their embrace and climbing out of the car.  Anders clamored out after him, worry slowly encroaching on the happiness shining in his golden eyes when their gazes met across the car’s roof.  “You’re a clever man Anders, what do you think?”  Karl said, a teasing smirk on his lips, lips Anders had kissed… and would likely get to kiss again!

Anders flew to his side in record time, taking his hand and smiling dreamily like the lovesick fool he was. “I think you’ve got a date.”

Karl squeezed his hand and grinned before turning to head back toward the CoM.  Toward a place that might just start to feel like home, as long as they were there together.  “Though I do have a suggestion.”  Karl murmured in his ear, Anders answering him with a contented hum, “Maybe next time, let me plan the date?”