highly new, slightly improved open post

[appliances]

assorted morons

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FUCC: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Comments

[glowup]

Preferable to being shut up in the cheapest inn rooms you can find, yes.

[Remember his tent, Fenris? Or more seriously, remember how much it grates to be shut up in one place all day and night? The only consolation he has these days is it's his own fault that he's a wanted man, for once.

But still, he says it like he mostly means the tent-that-shall-not-be-brought-up-again. Never mind it.]

Where to next, then?

[He's long since decided, but it's only polite to make it sound like he's coming along as a favor.]

[doggish]

[Oh, well, then. That settles that, and he's as surprised by it as he is . . . mm, not pleased, exactly. But if nothing else, at least he'll have someone to talk to.]

Closer to the border. So long as you're here, we'll try for bigger caravans. Two, three wagons . . . perhaps more, if we find them near an inn or camped out somewhere.

We'll go through the forests as often as possible.

[Because templars are everywhere-- and if Anders is to teach him magic, then it might be best to be in a place where random bursts of ice or fire have a chance to go unnoticed.

Two weeks pass, and Fenris finds that traveling isn't quite as awful as it could be. It's far from the most peaceful trip he's ever had-- he and Anders still snarl and snap at each other, their topics ranging from petty grievances to their old standbys. But even that takes on a new flavor: for once, he has more of an interest in the argument. He actually has cause to listen to Anders when he speaks the horrors of the Circle, of the traumas mages were forced through, the horrors of losing friends to Tranquility, to starvation, to beatings . . .

They've all but dissolved now, of course, but still. The fact remains mages are ill-treated across the land, as Anders reminds him time and again.

It still isn't enough to convince him that all mages should just wander about freely. He truly believes that they're too dangerous for that. But . . .

Would he have gone to a Circle if they hadn't all dissolved? He doesn't know, and the uncertainty haunts him. He promised to never be anything but a free elf, and the thought of submitting to an authority that would dictate his life is . . . disturbing. But a necessary disturbing, surely. Surely he would have gone, no matter how sick it made him; he was no hypocrite.

But he'll never know for certain.

Anders continues to teach him, for better or worse. He is getting a handle on it, though now his problem is less random spurts and more a size and power issue. He intends for fire and accidentally sends a magical force straight into their pile of sticks; he means to conjure ice and instead electrocutes an entire river. It's maddening, but at least it doesn't happen at random. It's something, at least.

Two weeks, and in that time they manage to attack twice more. That, at least, is immensely satisfying work. In those moments, he knows perfectly well who he is. He cuts his way through limbs and throats, and when it's done, knows how to help. There's no self-loathing, no fear, no disgust . . . just him and his blade, and the familiar shock of fighting with someone he knows.

It's Anders injured this time, not him, which really is a problem they ought to have anticipated, but here they are. His right arm is broken, albeit neatly.]

Don't tell me to concentrate.

[It's a little terse, but this is also his first time healing anyone. And he'd rather not fuck it up in front of Anders, thanks. Or break his arm any worse, that too is a worrying thought.]

I'm aware. I am.

[Is he?]