#non binary hawke

Envy // Kindness

The theme could be a side of Anders to explore, or something that has been inflicted/gifted to him by someone else in his life.

@teamblueandangry This one’s short and sweet. Anders likes to be touched, though he knows that Fenris does not. So he tries to be content with what Hayden gives him even though it’s not nearly enough... until one day Fenris surprises him and the two come to an understanding.

It almost feels wrong to want more of what they give him.

Hayden would gladly do so and wouldn’t even think of offering anything else than a few more moments of their time should he but bat an eyelash their way. Anders could not seem to ask more from Fenris than the brooding elf was willing to give however, though that didn’t mean he never wanted to.

Sometimes in the evenings Hayden would get caught up in business with the other nobles and it would be just Anders and Fenris for a little while. Usually they would spend time in the library reading their separate books, or they would head down to the cellars Anders had repurposed into an alchemy lab and Fenris would curl up on one of the blanket draped benches while Anders brewed and poured over scrolls and scrolls of notes on his experiments.

Rarely did they ever share those evenings with an activity that was something other than retiring from dinner early to indulge in some of their more unusual kinks that Hayden was uncomfortable participating in. Still, Anders hungered for Fenris’ touch in the same way that he hungered for Hayden’s.

Was it possible to be envious of one’s own self? 

Anders’ fingers drummed idly on the table as he ate his stew one evening, chewing slowly on the meat while lost in thought. That is until a hand came to rest on top of his, ceasing the movements of his fingers. 

“Anders,” Fenris rumbled, slightly exasperated. “Stop tapping. It grates on the nerves a little.” Anders flushed and ducked his head, fingers still twitching.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his food. “I just... can’t seem to stop sometimes.” 

Fenris was quiet for a moment before he moved from the table, the movement causing Anders to look up to see what he was doing. Fenris merely slid his own food over and came around to sit next to Anders so that they sat shoulder to shoulder. The hint of warmth that radiated off of the elf seemed to ease Anders’ excess energy enough for him to relax, and his body sort canted to one side reflexively, pressing up against Fenris.

Fenris went still at this, and Anders pulled back slightly.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” 

He tilted his head to see Fenris’ expression, though that was as unreadable as ever. Fenris merely shook his head slightly and huffed. “It is... alright. I am merely... unused to such contact.”

Anders raised an eyebrow as he cautiously went back to his eating.

“I knew you were averse to touch before, but at night you don’t seem to have problems cuddling.”

Fenris shrugged. “The two things are... entirely different, somehow. And I try not to let myself become the one in the middle. I prefer the outside.” Anders nodded thoughtfully after swallowing another bite. “Makes sense.” He glanced again between them and frowned at the elf, concerned. 

“Yes, Anders. I’m fine. Go back to your eating and try to tap the table a little less, please. Thank you.” After that was said, Fenris returned to his own meal and left Anders to his food and his thoughts.

The urge to continue tapping returned a little while later while they were indulging in dessert and Anders, remembering Fenris’ request, reached over to take Fenris’ hand instead. Fenris still tensed when Anders’ hand grasped his, but he relaxed when Anders’ thumb began to idly rub against the backs of his fingers in a slow, repetitive motion. 

The motion stopped when Anders realized what he’d done, and before he could pull away again, Fenris’ grunted and muttered in a low growl, “Don’t. This is... alright. Please... don’t stop.”

Anders paused for a moment more before continuing as he replied in a quiet whisper, “Thank you, Fenris.”

A gentle pressure to his shoulder and another grunt served as his answer.

Perhaps he didn’t need to ask more from Fenris. 

Fenris was just as willing as Hayden to give Anders what he needed it seemed, he just spoke a different sort of language than most. His was a language of small gestures and soft touches, given only voluntarily yet not as sparingly as Anders had once thought.  

Wrath // Forgiveness

The theme could be a side of Anders to explore, or something that has been inflicted/gifted to him by someone else in his life.

@teamblueandangry A short piece about the place of wrath and forgiveness in the life of our favorite feathermage.

As a boy, Anders thought he’d known wrath. 

His father would often tell him to be careful near the scythe that was used for harvest, and then one day he cut himself touching the blade, blood running down his arm with pain shooting through him. His mother had patched him up quickly, but when his father found out, Anders had been subjected to a scolding so fierce that he never disobeyed his father like that again.

Until the day he was helping to care for the horses, and a small rattlesnake spooked their draft mare, nearly kicking him in the face as he was cleaning her hooves... and he burnt down the barn in an unexpected display of accidental magic. He never forgot the look on his father’s face as the door to his room was shut and locked while the Templars were called...

“–the boy is a sin! A punishment upon our house! He’s going to the Circle!”

All the color in the world seemed to drain away as he sobbed uselessly, curled up on his bed and clutching one of his mother’s hand-stitched pillows. He was still clutching it as he was carted away, his sobs having reduced to a silence that he would keep for so long that the Templars eventually stopped asking for his name when they’d forgotten it, and he’d ceased to be a boy anymore.

Now he was a young man in the Circle, and his name was Anders. 

As a young man in the Circle, he certainly knew wrath. 

At first, knew a little of it in the sores on his hands as his skin was rubbed raw from the thousand dishes he’d had to scrub, from all the floors of the tower he’d had to mop, and from every shelf in the library or the storerooms as their dust settled over him like a semi-permanent film that lasted for days and made it hard for him to breathe.

Those were just the little things, though. Later he would most certainly know it in the sting of the whip on his back as he was tied to a table and lashed until Greagoir said stop, though in the later years of his time in the Circle the Knight Commander was not always present. Sometimes the Templars liked to have a little fun with him. Sometimes they’d whip him while they used him, and only if they were in a good mood would they use lubricant. 

It was a wrath that left him twitching and bleeding and gasping in pain, magebane coursing through him so that he couldn’t heal the wounds.

So Anders learned that he could handle wrath. Wrath he could survive if he but bit his lip and held on for long enough. 

Neglect, however, left him in the cold and the dark for a year, and during that year he grew to long for the touch of wrath. Wrath meant he was still alive; that he was still him and not an echo of himself that might’ve passed through the veil and into the Fade while no one was looking. Later he would look back on that time and wonder if a part of him hadn’t done that anyway.

In a way wrath was both his greatest enemy and staunchest ally during those dark days. He had been put in the dark because of wrath, and it was through wrath’s pain that he survived.

When the time came to run for the last time, he was no longer a young man. 

As an adult, Anders felt as though he hadn’t stopped running since. His time with the Wardens had been brief; a short reprieve from state of constant fear and fury that had been his existence since escaping solitary. Well, really he’d been that since the day his father had sent him to the Circle if he was being honest with himself, but he was so rarely that these days, even with a Spirit of Justice living in his head.

Justice might abhor the practice of lying, but he couldn’t stop Anders from lying to himself or keep him from his own delusions. Anders was perfectly happy keeping those to himself, especially after the day Hayden Hawke had first stumbled into his clinic.

His first impression of Hayden was of how kind they were, how understanding. He couldn’t be sure, but when he admitted Justice’s existence to them after the Chantry disaster, he thought that their quick forgiveness might actually be as honest as their eyes were bright, and their eyes were very bright indeed.

Anders couldn’t believe that someone could forgive him so quickly, so used to the touch of wrath was he. And then Hayden reached out and took his hands into theirs, as though sensing his disbelief. Anders felt his heart flutter like a blighted butterfly even while still in the throes of grief, and that was when he began to fall headfirst in love with the timid, shy-smiling healer.

That didn’t mean he didn’t still feel wrath’s touch, because of course even Hayden could not keep Anders’ first meeting with Fenris from being any less explosive than it ended up being. Once the elf had learned what Anders was (first that he was a mage and secondly that he was possessed), Anders was certain that he would be forever a thing to hate in Fenris’ eyes, just as he had been in his father’s.

He tried pushing them both away so that he wouldn’t have to feel Hayden’s forgiveness and Fenris’ wrath all at once. The wrath he might deserve to bear, but forgiveness? What had he done to deserve that? And now that he’d felt it again after so long after having gone without it, he almost didn’t want to let it go even though he felt guilty for wanting more.

He couldn’t fathom how it was possible to exist in a state of being the object of one person’s overflowing forgiveness and another’s unfiltered hate. Anders couldn’t see things changing for him with either of them, so he preferred to let them have each other while he kept to his work and his patients.

Fate had a funny way of changing things though, especially when Hayden’s mother died at the hands of a sadistic blood mage and brought the three of them together in their grief over a woman who hadn’t always understood them, but had always been kind to them. Suddenly Anders had not one but two lovers who didn’t hate his every eccentricity and yet found them endearing instead while they forgave the ones that weren’t.

Sometimes he’d wake them at night with his nightmares of the Circle, and they wouldn’t say a word. Hayden would merely wriggle out from between them and move to burrow at his back while Fenris let him cling as much as he needed until a more peaceful sleep came back to him. 

Sometimes during sex a stray touch or caress or a finger that needed just a smidge more lubricant would set him whimpering and instantly Hayden’s hands would be at his sides, gently rubbing and soothing while Fenris’ voice rumbled in his ears:

“You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me and Hayden. You’re safe.”

Safe, and so often forgiven. Even when later, the air itself was on fire and the city was in ruins, they were at his side, holding his hands in a way that said, We never want to let you go. You are ours, and you are forgiven. Hayden he could understand because their forgiveness seemingly knew no bounds, but Fenris...

Fenris’ forgiveness felt like coming home. 

He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was a boy again. A boy without magic and parents who loved him. When he opened them again, it wasn’t to the crushing weight of despair like it had so often been since the day his magic manifested, but to the lightness of hope in his heart.

He was no longer a boy who had never felt wrath, and he never would be again.

Greed // Charity

The theme could be a side of Anders to explore, or something that has been inflicted/gifted to him by someone else in his life.

@teamblueandangry In which there is some crying about pastries, and the benefits of having sex on rugs with unfortunate patterns is hinted at.

Anders saw the pastries in the window as he walked arm in arm with Hayden through Hightown one evening. His feet slowed as he caught sight of the daintily placed powdered sugar on top and he remembered a once beloved pair of hands picking some up and throwing it playfully in his face.

“Anders?” Hayden’s voice cut in through the bright gloom of his musings, “Is something wrong, Anders?”

He shook himself and suddenly realized that he’d stopped them right in front of the display. He opened his mouth, quite ready to tell Hayden that it was nothing, that he was absolutely fine… until he felt the wetness of a few tears roll down his cheeks. He sniffled a bit and furiously wiped at his eyes to try to blot away his shame.

“What’s wrong?” Hayden’s voice came again, low and quiet. Soothing.

Anders felt Hayden lean against him a little more heavily, their grasp on his arm briefly tightening to a gentle squeeze. 

“Those madeleines are important, aren’t they?”

Ah, Hayden. Such a kind, clever soul they were. 

Anders sighed deeply, and once he felt that he’d sufficiently blotted up his tears, he nodded. “Karl used to make them,” he replied, clearing his throat after hearing his voice croak from tears he was still trying to hold back.

“He’d make them, in the Circle. We didn’t have them often because we were, you know, filthy mages who didn’t deserve anything good in life but… the kitchen staff liked him and sometimes… sometimes…” Anders sighed again, running a hand through his hair and staring forlornly at the pastries.  “I don’t know why this bother me so much. It’s been… four, five years now?”

“You loved him,” Hayden reminded him. “You lost him. I know how hard that is, to lose someone you love. I still miss my father deeply when the leaves start turning just before Harvestmere, and Bethany… well, I suspect that she was Mother’s favorite child, and she speaks of her often, still. I often wonder if there really was more that I could do, and thinking back on my memories of her…”

They trailed off, shrugging. “Would it help if we purchased some?”

Anders stared at Hayden, stunned, before turning back to look at the elegantly arranged pastries in the window. 

“I don’t know if they’ll soothe the ache in my heart,” he said at last, biting his lip a little and licking it, “but sharing some with you would be lovely, I think.” Hayden hummed in agreement, tugging him along gently towards the shop’s door. “Let’s not tarry then,” they chirped brightly, “it’ll be dark soon.”

They walked into the shop and Hayden bought an assortment of two dozen decorated madelienes, even going so far as to feign an interest in taking up baking to ask for a beginner’s recipe. 

Anders’ heart felt overfull as it swelled with love for the other mage.

They took the pastries home and waited to eat them until after enjoying the dinner Orana had prepared, and Anders surprised himself when he greedily consumed nine of them in one sitting. Hayden had actually been the one to draw attention to it by pulling the boxes away with a grin and teasingly insisting he not make himself sick by eating all of them at once.

“Do you feel a little better?” Hayden asked as they dressed for bed that evening. Anders paused to search his heart, sighing contentedly. 

“A little,” he answered honestly. “Though I’m uncertain how much of it stems from my actually feeling full for once.” A chuckle escaped him as he slipped into one of the pairs of silk sleepwear that Hayden had had altered just for him. “It’s such a rare occurrence.” 

Hayden hummed noncommittally, climbing into the bed and burrowing under the covers. “It makes me feel so content to know that you feel content.” They flashed a smile up at Anders when he slid under the covers to join them. “So, what are we reading tonight, darling?”

“More from that rare book about spirit healing that you picked up at the Black Emporium–Maker, this was such a good find.”

“Sounds lovely,” Hayden murmured, curling up against his chest, arranging themselves so that they could comfortably follow along as Anders read aloud. Anders reached over and pulled the book from the nearby nightstand and began to read, relishing in the twin feelings of contentment that stemmed from both himself and Justice at the thought of the great care that Hayden took to keep them safe and fed. 

He read until Hayden’s yawns became too frequent, and then he marked their place before setting the book back in it’s place on the nightstand. Anders fell asleep, spooned against Hayden’s back, his arms gently holding tight to the other mage.

A little over a year later, Anders would be walking down a familiar Hightown thoroughfare on a cool autumn evening with Hayden on one side and Fenris on the other. He paused again, catching sight of the pastries arranged in the window of a shop they had been to many times before, and his companions took notice when he did so.

Hayden, who looked a little less distraught than they had in weeks prior though still in the midst of recovering from the horrific death of their mother, frowned at him curiously. “Anders?” They asked again, “Is something wrong?”

Anders shook his head. 

“Nothing more than usual,” he answered, jerking his head towards the shop window. “I just saw those pastries and thought to buy a few for you. I know you’re very fond of the savory buns they sometimes sell. Would you like to take a look and see if they still have any in stock?”

Hayden blinked at him, their stunned expression likely mirroring whatever had been on his face the first time Hayden had offered to purchase two dozen madeleines for him. Anders could even see the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of their eyes and he began to fuss a little, wiping them away.

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s alright… have I said something wrong?”

Hayden sniffled, smiling as they shook their head. “No, no, I’m alright. It’s just… I… I would very much like to see if they still have some, yes.”

They sighed, taking one of Anders’ hands in one of their own. “They might not ease the ache in my heart, but a warm dessert after one of Orana’s meals will certainly be enough to fill my stomach.” Hayden giggled, and Fenris frowned, not understanding the reference.

“Am I missing something?” he asked curiously, but Anders just waved the question away. “I’ll tell you later. For now though… would you like something? Some of those apple tarts, perhaps?”

Fenris flushed and Anders couldn’t keep the grin from his face at the sight. The elf really was quite adorable when embarrassed, though Anders knew he would never admit it.  “You want to… to buy something for me?” Anders nodded, reaching to gently grasp one of Fenris’ hands. He wasn’t wearing his gauntlets today; a rarity for the elf. Anders was glad for it however, as it helped him emphasize his next words all the better.

“Everyone should be able to enjoy a sweet treat or two every once in awhile,” he said seriously. “And while I don’t recommend trying to drown your pain with them, sharing such things with the people you care about can be just as fulfilling as the treats themselves.” He smiled, squeezed Fenris’ hand, and was rewarded when the elf gasped and flushed a few shades deeper.

“I… very well. If you insist.”

Anders’ smile widened and he led his two lovers into the shop. He wasn’t able to buy two dozen pastries like that first time, but when they took their treats home and shared them with one another while cuddling on the library sofa after dinner, the quantity of the treats hardly mattered.

“I think I see the appeal of this exchange,” Fenris mumbled, his words muffled by one of the sweet buns filled with sausage and cheese that Hayden had offered him. “This is… nice. I feel… warm. Full. Content.”

“And not just with food,” Hayden added, smiling shyly, biting gingerly into a chocolate dipped madeleine. “Thank you for this, Anders.”

Anders ducked his head, feeling his own cheeks flush with a heat that did not come from the fire in front of them. He attempted to cover up the motion by taking a few nibbles from the apple tart he held perched above his fingers, though from Fenris’ resulting grin he suspected he had not been successful.

“Well, I’m glad you liked them. You’ve both been helping me take care of the clinic lately, and I just… wanted to take care of you in return.”

The last bit he tried to mumble unsuccessfully into his tart, but he only succeeded in getting apple jam on the tip of his nose instead, causing Hayden to nearly fall apart with laughter and Fenris to pull him close so that he could lick the jam right off. 

Anders shifted a little as a suddenly thrill of arousal pulsed down his spine.

“Now, now,” he chuffed, “that’s enough of that. I’m trying to eat here.”

Fenris snorted. “It looked more like you were trying to literally inhale your food instead of eating it.” The elf chuckled, and Anders couldn’t help the little moan that escaped him at the sound of Fenris’ sinfully sultry voice.

“Fenris,” Hayden scolded playfully, “he’s right. That’s enough of that. If you really want to involve… our treats in another sort of treat, we should probably move to somewhere or something we don’t mind staining if we make a mess. We already make things difficult enough for Orana as it is with our sheets, we don’t need to add this sofa to the list… and besides, I’d personally not like to stain this sofa either.”

They grinned, and Anders felt gooseflesh raise all along his arms at the sight of the very indulgent, very predatory once-over they were giving him.

“You know,” he began, pausing to clear his voice after he’d squeaked a little under their deeply arousing stares, “there’s a perfectly good rug right here in front of the fire… and it’s not even a very pretty one.”

Fenris hummed, polishing off his sweet bun before pressing close against Anders’ back to press his lips against the flesh at the nape of his neck.

“Mmm… sounds like it’s quite replaceable then.”

“It is definitely replaceable,” Hayden grumbled. “It was a gift from one of the Hightown noblewomen at that last soiree we had to attend… you know, the very Orleisian one who was obsessed with all things cow printed?”

The three of them stared at the rug, which was not terrible in construction but definitely a little out of place with its… interesting color scheme and patterning.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy helping you get rid of that,” Anders snorted. 

Sloth // Diligence

The theme could be a side of Anders to explore, or something that has been inflicted/gifted to him by someone else in his life.

@teamblueandangry In which there is much cuddling and Anders learns to sit back and catnip for an evening.

As the rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon of the rooftops outside their bedroom window, Anders stirred awake.

Today was one of the rare times that he had ended up in the middle, sandwiched between Hayden, who was in his arms and snoring very softly in the most adorable fashion, and Fenris who was at his back, face buried in his hair as his arms were curled up and pressed against Anders’ back. 

He loved this feeling. It was so decadent, so sinful...

The tight knot of feelings in his chest that was Justice made itself known by pressing insistently against the boundaries of their connection. Impatience made his legs ache and a pressure form against his sinuses. Anders groaned quietly, turning his head and pressing his face into the pillows in his discomfort.

Anders knew Justice wasn’t trying to hurt him on purpose; rather, the spirit just wanted him to get up and start the day now that he was awake, however...

“Justice, stop that. You let Anders sleep a little while longer, okay?”

Anders lifted his head slightly to glance down at the sleeping form of Hayden, whose voice he’d heard just now. The younger mage still breathed deeply in his arms, and he was loathe to disturb them.

Then Hayden’s lips pursed, and Anders stilled as Hayden, eyes still closed, continued speaking.

“We’ll come help out with the clinic today and run the newest copy of our letters by Varric on the way home. Is that understood?”

Anders sensed that the knot of feelings that was Justice paused at Hayden’s words until, a little guiltily, it retreated from the forefront of Anders’ consciousness. Hayden snuggled closer and murmured into the crook of his in an even quieter whisper, “Go back to sleep Anders.” Though muffled and heavily slurred with the weight of sleep on their tongue, Hayden’s words brokered no argument.

Against his back, Fenris burrowed closer, further sandwiching him in between his two lovers. Anders sighed deeply, giving in to the call of the Fade, and he relished in a few more hours of sleep until the rays of the sun finally made their way into the little haven that was Hayden’s four-poster sanctuary. 

After dropping the revisions to his latest writing project by Varric’s desk in the evening, Anders returned home with Fenris and Hayden to begin immediately pouring over his alchemy set. His lovers had decided to practice sparring in the small courtyard garden, and though Anders longed to go with them, he knew Justice would be nagging at him about sloth if he ignored his brewing.

Years ago before he had even gone down into the Deep Roads with Hayden he’d come up with the idea of a nutrient potion that could help the refugees supplement what little they could afford to buy in the way of food. 

He was close now, he thought, but he often hit walls in his research that made it difficult to keep at it. Luckily, he had Justice to pester him about it, so there he sat, waiting for his latest batch of potion to finish brewing while he read from a book that sat in his lap and his right leg tapped away furiously against the stool he was perched on.

Distantly he registered the sound of footsteps approaching his workstation, but he didn’t look up until there was a slight rapping against the wood of the open door. He expected Hayden to be down here looking for him, but instead he was greeted to the sight of Fenris standing in the doorway looking slightly small and awkward. Anders frowned. It was very unlike Fenris to be timid around him.

“Is it time for dinner?” he asked, electing not to comment on Fenris’ unusual entrance. “Did Hayden send you to fetch me?”

Fenris seemed to finally gather his bearings and stepped into the room, eyes scanning the various ingredients and instruments he had strewn about in a strange combination of organized chaos.

“No, I was... merely curious as to why you decided not to spar with us this evening. Though I do believe we will be having dinner soon and Hayden said they’d be down to fetch us when it was ready.” Anders set aside his book but was unable to completely stop the tapping of his foot even while focused on his conversation with Fenris.

“I’m trying to create a nutrient potion for the people of Darktown. Or, well, for Lowtown and the Alienage as well I suppose, though it started out as just for the people of Darktown. I’ve been working on it for years.” Anders paused to think, glancing up in a particular direction as he tried to remember. “ I’ve probably been working on it since... since before I went into the Deep Roads with Hayden on that disastrous expedition.”

Fenris blinked at him, apparently stunned. 

“You’ve been working on this for that long? That’s... some dedication. I knew you were devoted to your causes, but that sounds more like diligence to me.” The elf flushed and admitted, “I must confess I once thought you incapable of such a thing.”

Anders shrugged. “As I once thought you incapable of having any kind of tenderness for a mage and yet... here we are.”

Fenris grunted. “Touche.” 

The elf then paused again to survey Anders himself, noticing the slight twitching of his right leg. “Diligence indeed,” he muttered. “You are overfull with energy this evening.” He smirked, moving closer and pressing up against Anders. The elf’s warmth did not stop Anders’ jitters, but it certainly had his attention.

“Oh? Overfull am I?” he asked playfully, carefully pulling the elf onto his lap. “What would you like to do about that? Since I missed tonight’s exercise, why don’t we... spar with our tongues instead? Or we could cuddle. This stool is not the best place for that though... though there is a bench on the far side of the room we could utilize. It’ll be awhile before these potions are done.”

“A nice cuddle would not go amiss,” Fenris admitted, though a little begrudgingly. Anders smiled as he unceremoniously swept up the elf in his arms, causing Fenris to yip sharply in surprise.

“I thought you liked cuddles, Fenris,” Anders teased, carrying him over to the bench and setting both of them down on top of the blankets there. Fenris huffed, but remained where Anders had lain him on top of his broad chest. 

“I like them better when I choose to be cuddled... though I must also confess that I find it... rather pleasing to be picked up by up. And a little surprising, though perhaps it should not be, considering how heavy your staff is and the ease with which you twirl it around like a toothpick.”

Anders bit his lip a little at Fenris’ admission. “Oh, sorry about that–”

“Not to worry, mage,” Fenris reassured him. “Just sit back and enjoy the cuddling. You have earned a little time to relax.”

“It is still difficult sometimes, when Justice feels that relaxation is slothful.”

Fenris made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. “Your spirit can take those feelings and toss them into the void. Even I relax sometimes after a long day of hunting slavers or whatever it is we’ve been doing, and you work just as hard as I if not more so. And Hayden is adamant you take care of yourself better. It would not do to worry them.”

At Fenris’ words, the tension in Anders’ body lifted and he fell lax beneath the elf’s solid weight. A familiar soft guilt flooded his connection with Justice, followed by a tender apology. He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes and finally letting himself sink into the comforting warmth of the room around him.

No more words were exchanged between them, but there didn’t need to be. The silence between them was hardly silence at all with the soft bubbling of a cauldron still going on nearby and the gentle breathing of Fenris atop his chest.

He hadn’t realized he’d slipped into a doze until another knock at the door startled him from sleep, jarring a similarly dozing Fenris as they looked around and finally found Hayden standing in the doorway, staring at them and smiling to themselves as though they’d just discovered Lady Moonpaws doing something cute with her kittens. 

“As adorable as you two are,” they said, chuckling to themselves, “I fear I need to wake you, as dinner is ready now.”

Anders and Fenris untangled themselves and stood up, Anders going to put out the fire beneath the cauldron of his latest batch of potions. He glanced at it and shrugged, figuring that he could bottle most of it after dinner if he asked for his lovers’ help, which they would most certainly give if it meant he could join them in the library for more cuddling faster than he usually did on nights when he usually preferred to work.

Well. Perhaps there wouldn’t be quite so much of that tonight. He had worked very hard and perhaps he did indeed deserve a little rest. There was always more work to be done tomorrow, but for what remained of today... he would relax. One only had so many days in their life, and he wanted to enjoy the rest of his to the best of his abilities.

Saturday, April 8th - Let’s Grow Old Together

What does the end look like? Where did the trio end up? This is a time for some angst and goodbyes. Tissues suggested.

Question of the Day: Did they have/adopt children? If so, what did they leave behind?

The trio spent their early years after Kirkwall in the isolation of the Amaranthine Forest, merely a few days’ ride from either Vigil’s Keep or Amaranthine itself. All were content in that isolation until it was disrupted by news from Varric about the Inquisition and the Wardens’ false Calling, and that was when they left that isolation for the first time.

Surviving Adamant and the Fade had been like going to the Void and back; with Anders and Fenris having to drag Hayden behind them as Stroud remained behind to hold off the Nightmare. But afterwards, seeing all of the devastation wrought by the Venatori and the Wardens still under their control, they could not bear to leave it. Alistair and Rashia elected to head to Wiesshaupt instead to seek answers from their higher ups, and of course Anders and Fenris remained with Hayden, helping the Inquisition where they could.

Fenris mostly helped on missions, though he rarely left without either of his healers. When not out with Fenris, Anders and Hayden tended to patients and refugees still displaced from the explosion at the Conclave, adult and child alike. Sometimes these children had parents, sometimes they did not. 

Hayden’s heart went out to all of the children without, because they knew the pain of losing a parent in their youth. However, it wasn’t until Fenris brought back a pair of nearly infant twins from an excursion to a dragon-ravaged home that Hayden was struck with a desire to do more than keep them warm and healthy until a place could be found for them.

So, after many long discussions and several battles fraught with danger, the trio returned home when Corypheus was defeated… with two small children in tow.

Anders breathed deeply of the still winter air, and then exhaled slowly, watching as his breath misted and danced before him, mesmerizing. His gaze wandered across the line of trees several yards away from the porch where he sat, seemingly fixed on a point in the distance through the gentle evening snowfall. The wooden chair beneath him creaked slightly as he rocked, but the sound was muffled by the great white expanse that surrounded the area.

“Papa?” A voice called from inside the cabin, making him turn to cock his head in the direction of the sound. 

“Yes darling?” He answered, and coughed once, twice. Wetness rattled in his chest, and he sighed, leaning back in the chair. Distant footsteps grew louder until the visage of an elven woman with dark hair and amber eyes came into view, brows pinched in concern. She held two steaming cups in her hands, offering one to him.

“You’ve been out here for awhile,” she said as he gingerly took one of the cups, and relishing the taste of warm liquid chocolate on his tongue. He hummed noncommittally. “Yes, I know,” he replied in a chiding tone, smirking softly. “Can’t an old man enjoy the peace and quiet of a winter’s evening once in awhile?” He flashed her a slight grin, but was interrupted when a series of small coughs escaped him, threatening to develop into a full fit.

“We’d let you be,” said a man’s voice from the doorway, equal parts teasing and stern, “if not for you being so quiet. Your cough’s getting worse, and when we hadn’t heard anything from you in awhile we feared that you’d just… well.” The man was elven, like the woman, and it was obvious they were related. His hair was dark, like hers, but his eyes were a bright jewel green instead of amber.

Anders smiled sadly at the man. “I’m sorry I can’t put your fears to rest, son. An illness like this can’t be cured with magic or potions, and I’m… not as young as I used to be.” 

“We know, papa,” said the woman as she reached out to take his free hand into her own from her place in one of the other two rocking chairs. “People don’t live forever. We’re not meant to. I just… I want to be there for you.” There were tears swimming in the woman’s eyes, and Anders set his drink aside to reach up and brush a few from here cheeks.

“You are here for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I’m grateful, I am. Both of you came all this way to be with your old man, and you didn’t have to.”

“Course we did,” the man grunted. “I mean, we know you’re never really alone, but with Hayden gone and Father having passed last Harvestmere… Liesel and I figured someone should be here, to keep you comfortable at the very least.”

Liesel snorted. “Faron’s being too humble, as usual. He said to me while we were on our way here actually, “Sister, it’s more than a duty to care for a parent in their last days; it’s an honor.” I mean, really. He spends too much time with Uncle Varric, I think.”

Anders chuckled. “Varric’s still kicking? Huh. What’s he got you doing, that he’s keeping you around for so long, Faron?”

“Dictating a memoir,” Faron grumbled. “The pain in his joints’d made it hard for him to write for years, so I’ve been transcribing everything for him.” He shrugged. “He wasn’t nearly so poetic when we were working on the last installment of Hard in Hightown. I think that thinking about the past has made him wistful. He even said he might tell me the story of Bianca if I ask him at the right time.”

“Bianca? As in the crossbow?”

“Nah, the woman. I mean, I’m pretty sure the crossbow’s involved, but he meant the woman. I’m sure of it.”

“I still say he’s gonna leave you hanging,” Liesel teased. Faron huffed, shurgging as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Never said he wouldn’t. Anyway, his way of speaking gets stuck in my head sometimes and I say stuff weird.” Liesel grinned.

“You meant what you said though. I could tell.”

Anders smiled, picking up his cup and sipping it as he watched his adult children bicker with one another like they were small again. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the memories of raising them with Hayden and Fenris in this very cabin. He was glad to have them here with him during what could potentially be his last days. Hayden had been sick like this a few times before they’d eventually passed. Losing Hayden had hurt deeply, but at least he’d still had Fenris for several more years after that.

This past year on his own had been harder still, and he’d leaned heavily on Justice to keep him motivated to get out of bed each morning. He’d been so caught up in grief that he hadn’t noticed the onset of illness until nearly too late. He couldn’t bear to leave the home he’d built with his lovers, so he’d written to their children in Kirkwall instead, asking them to come if they could spare the time away from their own spouses and children to keep him company.

“Alright you two,” he chided them gently. “You know your father absolutely detested when you bickered without purpose. Why don’t you tell me how my grandchildren are doing? Liesel, isn’t your eldest getting married soon?”

“She is,” Liesel grumbled. “I feel so old, papa.” 

Anders chuffed. “But she’s marrying a good man, yes? Or lady?”

Liesel nodded, her features softening. “A fine young man. I was surprised to learn he has an apprenticeship with the Hightown surgeon, with him being elven like us. I hadn’t thought it possible.” 

“Varric’s done some good in that city, it seems,” Anders sighed, contentedly. “I mean, I doubt he’s erased elven prejudice entirely, but I know things are better there now, for a lot of people. Having all of those terrible Tevinter ruins cleansed of blood magic traces seemed to help a lot too, as I recall.”

“The Circle’s not in the Gallows anymore either,” Faron added. “And it’s not called a Circle. My two boys go there, and they tell me that their classes are quite pleasant. Just last month, Tamaris was showing me this thing he could do with these things he called fairy lights. It looked like the night sky was plastered all around us, without needing to go outside.”

“I used to do that, when I was young,” Anders remembered with fondness. “My first love, Karl, once charmed some to appear in the shapes of red carnations and crystal grace on my bed when I threw back the covers. I used to make some for your father when he would wake in the dark from his nightmares. They helped ground him.” 

Anders chucked, and added, “Hayden liked them too, but they were more like Karl. They’d take your father and I out into the forest during autumn in evenings and we’d watch a magic light show while sharing a picnic by the water.”

“I remember those,” Faron mumbled, lost in thought. Liesel sighed contentedly. “I do too. They were lovely. I had no idea they were Hayden’s way of being romantic.” Anders nodded, laughing. “Well, with small children in the house, the three of us had to get creative with how we flirted. There was a lot of suggestive eyebrows waggling and slightly not so innocent dancing and hugging that went on when you were young.”

“And then it all went out the window that one time I walked in on you and Father having sex,” Faron snorted, and Liesel burst in a fit of giggles. “Hayden was mortified, but they set you and I down while Father and Papa were… finishing up, and we had the sex talk right then and there.” 

A few more snickers escaped her as she held a hand to her mouth and wrapped the other around her side, clutching at her clothes while she tried to laugh silently.

Anders was laughing too, but he had to be careful not to laugh too hard in case he started to descend into a coughing fit instead. Everything ached these days, but the laughter his children brought him made him feel lighter than he had in months, and the ache was easier to ignore.

Eventually the twins coaxed him to come back inside to sit by the fire, and later that evening the three of them shared a hearty meal of steaming noodle broth with fresh vegetables and chunks of butter soft chicken. Shortly before Anders retired for bed, Liesel dug around in her packs, presenting him something wrapped in cheap brown parchment and tied with string.

“I’d almost forgotten this,” she muttered as he began meticulously opening the package. “We found this for you in the estate library before we left–Varric told Faron that it was one of your favorite trashy romance novels and that it was quite important to you.”

Anders gasped when he finished opening the package, pulling the parchment away to find a copy of Fang of the Dragonlord sitting inside. This was the same one that Hayden and Fenris had purchased for him when they’d still lived in Kirkwall, and several of the pages had been dog-eared in honor of the parts that had been Karl’s favorites from the copy he’d kept in the Circle.

“Thank you for being so thoughtful, dear,” he murmured as he pulled Liesel close and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “This will be such lovely bedtime reading, for certain.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be,” Faron snickered, and Anders just fixed his son with a dead-eyed stare. 

“Boy, I’m a widower well into my twilight years. I am more interested in keeping my plants pruned and my cat fed than getting it up. Besides, the story in this one’s actually good.” 

“Compared to Swords and Shields?”

“Anything’s better than that. The position he describes in the second installment on page 69 is physically impossible, unless you’re a contortionist, and even then it still sounds vastly uncomfortable.” Faron snorted. “True. Still, you know, it couldn’t hurt. Don’t orgasms help… something when you’re sick?”

“That’s headaches, son,” Anders chortled, “and that doesn’t always work.” 

“Whatever. Go get some rest, ok? And call for us, if… if you need us.”

“I will. I love you.” “We love you too, Papa.”

Anders leaned over and pressed a kiss to Faron’s forehead and slowly made his way to the bedroom he’d once shared with Hayden and Fenris. 

It no longer smelled like them, but the room itself was full of several books and trinkets that they’d collected, gifts from their children and their friends. A drawer in the desk by the window was ajar, and inside it Anders knew was a box full of letters from their friends and each other, detailing much of their lives together from their time in Kirkwall onward. Some of Hayden’s old robes still hung in the closet, and in the dresser, tucked behind a sachet of elfroot and rosemary were a few pairs of worn black leggings. 

Anders lit a candle and set it on one of the nightstands, laying the book on the bed. He moved to dress for sleep, but was struck with the sudden desire to wear one of the silk robes Hayden had gifted him, along with a pair of woolen socks that Fenris had knitted for him a long, long time ago.

He paused in front of the small mirror that had been hung on a nearby wall, reaching back to pull out his hair tie. His hair had gone full white in the last year, and a pang of sadness beat deep in his chest at the thought Fenris hadn’t been around to see it.

“We match now,” he whispered, sighing. 

He would’ve laughed, Justice muttered quietly over their shared connection.

Anders chuffed as he brushed his hair and got into bed, skipping straight to the bits that he preferred, instead of the steamy scenes. “He would have, yes. He had teased me about it when we first found those early white strands. I wish… I, I wish…” He sniffed, tears forming in his eyes.

Hush now, Justice soothed. It’ll be alright. 

Anders felt the spirit’s comfort in the core of him, and it helped as he breathed deeply, for once uninhibited by his illness. As his reading came to a close and exhaustion began creeping in, Anders found himself pausing at the last page, unwilling to turn it and close the book.

“Justice, I’m… I’m scared. Are you scared?”

Of what?

“Dying.”

Anders could practically feel the wheels of Justice’s mind turn as he thought, but the spirit’s answer surprised him when it finally came.

Strangely, I am not. In the Fade, there is no life and death. Spirits and demons simply… are. And while I know you hope that your death will return me to that state of existence, I have long hoped that it would not. Should I return as I am now, I would want. I would desire. These are dangerous things for a spirit.

But, in death, in whatever it means to fade from this existence into the next, I would not be a danger. In death, I could keep you company until we are separate beings once more. Our memories combined span more than your lifetime, a life that is well-lived at that. I would be content to retire my existence with you, knowing that good came from our being in this world.

So… no. I am not afraid. But do not feel shame that you are. It is normal, as I understand. Our children understand it. 

Anders felt his breath leave him in a rush as a kind of peace stole over him. 

“Thank you, Justice.”

The response that filled him was not words, per se, but Anders knew it to be a gesture of gratitude nonetheless. He shifted in bed, glancing out the window to see a glimpse of the clear, starry sky. It filled him with nostalgia as he thought on the many nights he’d spent staring at those stars with his lovers, and he wondered if, wherever they were, they missed him as much as he missed them.

After a few more moments, he closed the book and set it aside. He blew out the candle and settled under the covers, feeling the aches and pains from earlier return. Strangely, he welcomed the deep weariness in his bones, one of the signs of that life well lived.

The call of the Fade swelled, and he noted with some amusement that it was different tonight. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

When next he opened them, it was to a familiar voice, saying, “So, mage. We did get to match after all,” while a peal of long forgotten laughter filled the air around them.

Inspired by a discussion in the Weird Shit Discord about how it would be absolutely perfect for Anders to have a birthday in the spring and that tiny Anders would be running about with flowers in his hair while all the children in the village gather to help him celebrate his birthday.

That is not really the focus of this story, but it does play a crucial part. Enjoy.

Hayden loved their birthdays back when Malcolm had been alive. He would take them all out to a secluded spot in the forest and put on little magic shows for them in the early morning, and when the twins were still young and Bethany’s magic hadn’t come in, they danced and giggled in the shadows of the fairy lights, stumbling and falling headlong into the multicolored leaf piles.

Later, after Malcolm had died, their birthday became a more subdued affair. Mother and the twins would wish them a happy birthday before the start of the day, and sometimes there was a cake with candles. Sometimes. The year they spent in service to Athenril after they’d fled Lothering from the Blight was the worst, because it had come and went without fanfare. 

Mostly. Carver remembered, and that day he was a little less surly than usual for Hayden’s sake.

Then they went on the expedition. Carver was… gone, but not dead. With the things they had brought back after Bartrand’s betrayal, they had been able to buy back the Amell estate, and Leandra had gotten it into her head that she needed to throw Hayden a lavish party to make up for all the things they had lost. Hayden had seen the idea for what it was and just let her do it; they might not need a lavish party, but she did.

They doubted it would fix whatever was bothering her, but they let her do it anyway because they loved her and just wanted her to be happy.

Monday, April 3rd: We’ve been flirting for years now…

Fics/Art/Drabbles that explore when these three first knew that they were meant to all be together. Who made the first move? Was it obvious to everyone else but them?

Question of the Day: How do you think they each said ‘I love you’ the first time? Anders said it to Hayden the first night they had sex. He said it in every breath, every kiss, every fiber of his being. Hayden replied in kind that same night, but it was in the way they trailed their fingers across Anders' scars, first with the coolness of their magic, followed by the heat of their tongue. Hayden had told Fenris that they loved him in a similar manner when they had been intimate for the first time, and they thought perhaps that had scared Fenris away. But later, when Fenris whispers the words to him one night, when Anders is fast asleep beside them: they realize that it had merely been the wrong time. So, the next time Hayden tells Fenris exactly how much they love him, Fenris does not shy away. Finally, it takes a long time for Fenris to tell Anders that he loves him. Unlike with Hayden, it is a wild, angry thing that tumbles out of him in a rush during an argument, and suddenly the world stands still. Anders doesn't speak the words when he tells Fenris he loves him; he merely takes the elf's hand and comes to bed without complaint.

Varric had been able to see Hayden’s attraction to their healer from day one. He might not have been all that great with love in his writing or his life (all he needed was Bianca and he was just fine with that), but he knew that Hayden was head over heels for the mage even before Hayden knew it themselves.

And then came the broody elf.

Hayden’s face when the elf came stalking down the stairs, slaver falling at his feet, blood dripping down his gauntlet was nothing short of starstruck. Anders had been there too, and there was definitely attraction there.

But from the moment the elf had called Hayden and Anders vipers, there was already bad blood between them. Well, not Hayden. Hayden had only seemed hurt, crestfallen even. Poor kid. They liked people and wanted so much for people to like them and when that didn’t happen it looked like the world was ending in those pretty blue eyes…

Varric supposed that was what made the elf relent in the end. He apologized and even seemed surprised when Hayden called him handsome in spite of the insult. Hayden was so happy when the elf told him that he’d decided to stick around a while, and Varric had been certain that Hayden’s initial infatuation with the healer would end there.

It didn’t. And Varric didn’t understand it.

Oh, he knew that being attracted to more than one person was a thing, he just didn’t get it. 

He could only hope that Hayden didn’t get hurt, batting those pretty puppy dog eyes at the two people in their party who hated each others’ guts so much that it was hell being in a group with the two of them (which was often, because Hayden took them everywhere). 

Yet one didn’t need eyes to see that hurt was an inevitability. 

It took an entire Deep Roads expedition (which, disaster that it was, could’ve been a lot worse without Blondie along for the ride) and the better part of three years, but the thing that Varric feared occurred not long after a little of Fenris’ past was revealed to their group by his former master’s now dead apprentice. Hayden had tried to ask if the elf was alright, but his only response was to ask, “What has magic touched that it doesn’t spoil?” before he ran off into the night. 

To… the Hawke estate, apparently.

Where they most definitely had sex.

Hayden wouldn’t give him any details, but even if they had been willing, Varric doubted he could’ve understood them. The poor kid was insensible, dark hair unbound, tears and snot; everywhere. They’d tried drinking, but that had only seemed to make things worse. So they stopped, folded their arms on Varric’s table, buried their face into the fabric of their robes, and sobbed up a storm. At some point, Varric caught sight of the elf watching the scene from the crack in the door, his usually unexpressive face wracked with grief.

He’d turned and run once he noticed that Varric had seen him.

So. The elf was hurting too. And he continued to hurt from what Varric could gather when he saw a red favor cloth as well as a fresh potions pouch with a suspiciously familiar crest attach themselves to the elf’s person.

It must’ve hurt even worse when Hayden seemed to move on and bring the mage into their bed and their home, but Varric knew better. Hayden still held a candle for the elf, but they’d needed someone to physical to lean on for support and Anders had finally given in to Hayden’s pleas.

“They still want you, you know,” Varric had said to Fenris one evening at cards when the others were well into their later rounds of ale and it was just him and the elf sitting on the far side of the table, watching their friends. Fenris, for once, wasn’t drinking, and was just slowly nursing a bowl of stew and, of course, brooding. Varric couldn’t stand it when the elf brooded for too long, so he’d had to open his mouth to say something, even if it just might get him killed.

“No they don’t,” was Fenris’ bitter reply. “Hayden moved on. With him.”

Anders. Of course.

Varric sighed. 

“Look, it’s possible for a person to love more than one person. I don’t get it either because my one and only is a crossbow, but trust me, it’s a thing. Now, they were head over heels for Blondie before they ever met you, but you didn’t see their face when they first saw you. Slight gasp, starry eyes, the works. They’ve still got those eyes for you!” 

He gestured to Hayden in a “look here!” motion, and Fenris sat up to do so. 

Hayden, now quite drunk and laughing happily, caught Fenris’ gaze for a moment before they flashed the elf a coy smile and batted their eyelashes at him before realizing what they’d just done and  buried their face in Anders’ shoulder in the hopes no one else had seen.

Fenris’ breath caught in his throat and Varric grunted.

“See? Stars. They’re so bright they’re blinding.”

Now it was Fenris’ turn to grunt dismissively. “It doesn’t. Matter. They’re with Anders now.”

“Blondie was pretty smitten with you too before you called him a viper.”

“What? No. Impossible.”

Varric shrugged. “Yeah whatever, but I’m pretty sure that he was into you. Still don’t believe me? Maybe try talking to the man. It couldn’t hurt.”

Fenris had merely grumbled and got up to leave while the others were preoccupied with their drinking. Well, all except Anders, who had noticed Hayden’s quick flirt and was watching the elf slink off with a slightly pained expression. Yeah, Blondie still definitely had a thing for their broody friend.

Varric had just sighed and hoped that, whatever the elf did, he did it soon because damn if watching him brood didn’t make his trigger finger twitch, and if there was one thing Varric truly hated, it was hurting his friends.

Though, this was mostly because they did enough of that between themselves.

Fenris would make several attempts to speak to either Hayden or Anders about their feelings towards him… though few of those attempts ever made it outside of the crumbling mansion he called home.

Those that did make it out the door didn’t ever make it to Hawke’s because at some point Fenris would realize that he had no idea what he was doing or what he was going to say and he’d panic and retreat to the safety and comfort of his warm, dark room.

Yet one day, he’d somehow found himself standing in Hawke’s foyer, and he was panicking again because he’d found that his carefully constructed words had abandoned him.

Then Anders was there, looking too beautiful in his concern than the man had any right to be, and somehow they had ended up arguing. Fenris couldn’t remember about what, just that they’d argued, and then Hayden arrived home to discover them fighting and was already very upset about… something. Anders and Fenris turned to see the white lilies on the foyer tabletop, and they heard Gamlen’s voice chasing after them from the study.

Had Hayden seen Leandra? She was late for her visit to Gamlen’s.

No, Hayden hadn’t seen her. 

Anders and Fenris exchanged a glance, and for the moment they agreed to put aside their arguments for Hayden’s sake. 

This would turn out to be the first of many such moments, because the evening would turn out to end in disaster: Leandra’s body torn apart and stitched into a horrific amalgamation of people, a blood mage responsible for her death and the deaths of several other young women in the city, and Hayden; devastated.

Fenris, despite knowing he was terrible at comforting people, went to do so anyway, and somehow he ended up finishing the night with Hayden curled up between himself and Anders.

Anders, whose lips had felt softer against his own than anticipated.

How a single kiss could make his heart flutter.

Fenris wasn’t sure that he knew what love was, but if it could do anything to heal the wounds that he’d inflicted upon his relationship with the two mages, he was willing to give it a try.

Of course, just his presence alone was enough for Hayden.

Anders was still asleep, and this was strange because usually Justice would have roused him before the sun even rose, never mind allowed him to sleep in until what appeared to be almost noon.

Hayden blinked blearily as they tried to reach up to wipe the sleep from their eyes, only to find that their hands were curled up and between their chest and Anders’, while their arms were pinned by another arm they weren’t used to seeing when waking up: a thin,wiry, muscled thing with embedded lyrium dancing along the contours of dark brown skin…

The arm tensed, its owner likely realizing that Hayden was awake, and so it retreated back to curl against the elf to whom it belonged. Slowly, so as not to wake Anders, Hayden turned so they were facing Fenris, and they were about to bid him good morning before suddenly Anders’ thin arms wrapped around Hayden and brought them up against the taller mage’s chest. 

Fenris hummed, and remarked upon seeing this happen, “And I thought you were supposed to be the clingy one.”

Hayden chuckled awkwardly. “Um, yeah. Usually. But Anders is also usually up long before now… what time is it?” They craned their head in an attempt to see the small dwarven timepiece Varric had given them as a housewarming gift.

“Ugh,” they groaned, letting their head fall back on the pillows. “Almost noon. We’ve slept the morning away…” 

Their eyes trailed to Fenris, who was almost a good foot away from where Anders’ sleeping form held Hayden captive, and slightly tense for some reason that they couldn’t fathom. However, he was still there. He hadn’t left, even though he looked like he very much wished to.

“Do you wish to leave?” they asked in a whisper, and Fenris frowned in apparent confusion.

“I… I do not know. I still feel as though I am… trespassing. Like I do not belong.”

Hayden wanted to reach up and fold Fenris’ bangs behind his right ear so they could see his eyes better, but Anders’ arms still held fast.

“You aren’t,” Hayden insisted, and a thrill of fear lanced through them. “I… um,” –they sniffed wetly– “you don’t have to stay, but I would very much like you to.” Their breath came in soft pants, and suddenly they were crying softly into their pillows. Something shifted, and there was heat against their front which cause them to look up. They gasped, Fenris’ body was next to theirs, the elf’s face suddenly very close to their own.

“If that is what you wish,” Fenris whispered, and Hayden shook their head.

“Fenris, I’m not ordering you–” “I know,” the elf interrupted them gently, pressing a finger to their lips. “It is my choice to stay. I might be afraid, I might feel a little out of place, but… if having me here is what you need, then… I want to help. And… to make up for the time I have wasted.”

Then Fenris was kissing them, and it was so soft, so sweet, so beautiful–

“Mmm… what a lovely thing to wake up to,” murmured Anders from behind. 

Fenris tensed again, and Hayden caught him with another kiss before he could pull away, teeth gently worrying at the elf’s bottom lip and nuzzling their noses together, hoping to distract him.

It appeared to work rather well actually, because when Hayden moved away Fenris was blinking at him owlishly, apparently a little stunned from the kiss.

“Sorry,” they whispered, smiling sheepishly. “I… well. You wanted to see me being clingy, right? That’s… that’s it.”

Anders scoffed, and Hayden rolled over to see the other mage shooting Fenris a smug, sleepy smile as he shook his head. “No, that’s just how this one says hello. They’re like a limpet on cold nights…”

“Hey,” Hayden growled playfully, “you never complained about those nights.”

Anders chuckled and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before turning to look back at Hayden. “Hey… what time is it?”

“Almost noon,” they answered, and Anders almost fell out of this bed in his surprise. “What?! Noon? Justice, why in the void didn’t you wake me…?” Hayden merely sat up to watch as Anders flitted about the room, gathering his things, Fenris joining them in observing the spectacle.

“Is… he normally like this in the mornings?”

“It’s noon. Normally he’s gone before the sun rises, and even I don’t usually sleep in this late.”

“Yesterday was…”

“I know.” Hayden clutched at the sheets, tears burning in their eyes again as they tried not to cry. “I… I… Maker. I don’t even have a body to burn anymore. What the hell do I do…?”

They drew their knees up to their chest and wrapped their arms around themselves. This time they didn’t bother holding back tears as they sobbed into the silk of their trousers, and they didn’t notice when the sounds of Anders’ panicked movements had ceased until a hand was rubbing at their back and the bed dipped again under Anders’ weight. Fenris was still close by, still not quite sure what to do, but he’d placed a hand on Hayden’s right shoulder and was idly massaging the muscles there with his thumb.

“Hayden,” Anders whispered, causing Hayden’s attention to shift at the sound of their name.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“What about Justice? The clinic?”

Anders shrugged. “The clinic will survive a few days without me. But you’ve just lost a loved one… I would be a fool to leave you alone.”

“They’re not alone,” Fenris grumbled, and Hayden could sense a little of the tension from last night resurfacing between them. However, Anders merely closed his eyes, breathed deeply for a beat or two, and then nodded in agreement. “Yes, you’re right,” he told the elf in a low voice. “I merely meant that the more support Hayden has right now, the easier things will be.”

Fenris studied Anders for a few moments before nodding slowly in return.

“I know. But… thank you.” The for understanding bit went unsaid.

Anders sighed softly in relief and reached for one of Fenris’ hands, pausing just before skin met skin. “May I touch?” Anders asked, and Fenris’ expression was suddenly one of shock, or surprise. “I… yes?”

Long, knobby fingers curled under lyrium lined calloused ones as Anders gently leaned over Hayden to press a kiss to a part of the back of Fenris’ where the lyrium did not touch. 

“You’re quite welcome,” Anders whispered, smiling softly up at the elf, who was… blushing? Yes, Hayden was certain Fenris’ ears were glowing with a soft rosy flush and they were twitching like mad in the way they had once done in the early days of their friendship, drinking stolen wine in a stolen mansion.

Anders released the elf’s hand and looked over at Hayden as he said quietly, “I’m going to go downstairs and see if Orana doesn’t mind fixing us something to eat. Do you want anything?” He glanced at Fenris. “Or you?”

“Just… no fish…” was all the elf seemed to manage, still staring at his hand.

Hayden smiled at the sight before looking back up to meet Anders’ honey-colored gaze. “I… there was… this soup. Mama used to make it when I was sick… I think Orana might know the recipe…”

Anders’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “I actually think I know that recipe. Chicken and rice, yes? With peas, carrots, and… ginger? No. Sage.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Hayden scooted closer to Fenris and stared down at their hands resting in their lap. “I… I’d like some of that please.” Beside him, Fenris tensed a little, but eventually he relaxed again and even pressed back, very tentatively, letting Hayden know without saying a word that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Alright,” Anders said when Hayden confirmed that was what they wanted, “I’ll be back up in a bit, alright? Then after lunch we can decide what you want to do next, perhaps?” Hayden nodded. “Sounds good. And… thank you, Anders. I’m… really glad you’re staying.”

“Me too,” Anders agreed, and he was out the door momentarily, leaving Hayden alone with Fenris, who was still letting Hayden lean against him, though without any back support the position had to be uncomfortable.

“Do you… want to scoot back?” Hayden asked Fenris in a small voice. “Against the headboard?”

“Sure.” And it was that easy. They moved back and settled against the pillows and the headboard and suddenly things were much easier. Fenris, instead of leaning against Hayden, slouched back a little and lay partially on top of them, being mindful of where their right arm was so he wasn’t laying on it.

Despite normally not minding silence, Hayden couldn’t seem to stand it today. The air seemed too still, too quiet. Never before had they felt such a need to fill that silence, but now… 

“So, um,” they began, briefly clearing their throat, “what was that between you and Anders just now? That looked like… flirting.” 

“We were not flirting,” Fenris grumbled, and a quiet bubble of laughter spilled from their lips. “Yes you were,” they teased gently. “You were blushing. I haven’t seen you blush like that since… since…”

“Since I left?”

“Yes.” And then the laughter was gone and Hayden found themselves in tears again. “Damnit… I wish my face would just pick a thing a stick with it… I hate crying.” Fenris chuckled softly, and a low, stuttering purr started up afterwards, the sound vibrating off of the elf in waves.

Suddenly Hayden was calm again, though tears still fell every now and then.

“Um… thank you. You.. you don’t have to do that, though. I know… I know you don’t like it.”

“I didn’t like it because it wasn’t a thing that I was allowed to do without being told that I could. I am… merely trying to reclaim that part of myself. And… if it helps you in the process, then… well.” Fenris shrugged. 

“But… about Anders… I don’t really know what’s happening there. I know he makes me feel… things. They’re sort of like the things that I feel when I think about being with you… but different.” Hayden tilted his head, despite Fenris not being able to see. “A… good kind of different, I hope?”

“I think so. I told him last night that I would give… us a try. I don’t know what do in this sort of relationship though, or how to behave…”

“I imagine it’s just like any other sort of relationship,” Hayden replied. “It’s not all sunshine and roses. Even between two people, a good relationship takes work. Communication. Compromise. We’ll have to talk things out a lot.” They chuckled quietly and added, almost teasingly, “And maybe sometimes there won’t be a lot of talking at all…”

Fenris groaned. “Anders is rubbing off on you. I am not certain how I should react to this.”

“However you like,” Hayden assured him. “And know that should you ever feel uncomfortable about something; tell us. As for the rubbing… Anders is downstairs. Believe me, I would know if he were doing any sort of rubbing.”

“Fasta vass.”

Hayden laughed, bending down to kiss the crown of Fenris’ hair.

Tuesday, April 4th - Three’s a Crowd, now Four…

This is a poly ship to begin with, but who else can you see being in the mix? Justice? Nathaniel? Karl? Isabela? Feel free to AU! Question of the Day: What do the rest of the Kirkwall Crew think about their relationship?

Aveline is baffled, mostly. She wonders often how such very different people can live together and still claim to truly love each other in the way she loves Donnic. And yet… they seem to be happy, so until she sees otherwise, she is happy too.

Isabela sometimes wishes she could be in their bed too, until she remembers that she has her kitten to keep warm at night, but of course it never hurts to fantasize. (She also envies their closeness, just a bit, but Kitten helps there too.)

Sebastian remembers his wild days whenever he looks at any of them, and his still un-renewed vows chafe at him a little when he lets himself wonder what it would be like to be that man again. Perhaps not the callous, uncaring sort that he’d been before the Chantry had changed him, but… just him. With them. With them, he might feel wanted again, but for now he just watches… and wonders.

Merrill thinks they look good together. There was a lot of pain in the beginning, but even she knows that some things need to break a little and then grow back over time to be strong enough to really last. She likes watching them steal kisses and small touches when no one is looking. She especially likes it when they think they are being subtle, arousing one another during cards. It’s very cute.

Varric doesn’t understand how romantic relationships with other living beings work. It’s probably why the few he’s ever had ended up in disaster and after those fiascos he decided that his one and only was to be his crossbow instead. But somehow Hayden is able to love and receive love from so many at once, but especially Blondie and Broody –together– Varric thinks the kid is some sort of magician. Then he laughs, remembering that they are a mage, so perhaps that is how they managed it. Or maybe they just know something he doesn’t.

Either way, everyone’s happy that Hayden is, and that’s always a good thing.

Today’s drabble is brought to you by: angst and hugs. Featuring a young Jeremy Irons as Karl Thekla, Tom Mison (Ichabod Crane) as Anders, a young Orlando Bloom as Hayden Hawke, and cosplayer twinfools as Fenris. Enjoy. ;)

Hayden had never imagined finding love in an unforgiving place such as Kirkwall, but perhaps that was because they hadn’t also taken into account that love might find them instead.