Sandal was the hero of the day. Who better to deal with an enchanted figurine than the savant of enchantment?

In the time it took for Sandal to undo what had been done to Fenris and Ser Pounce-a-lot, Anders was able to find a runner willing to fetch the fussiest of fussy Orlesian pastries and return with it in one piece. It emptied his pockets of coin, what little he ever had, but it was a price well paid to have his cat and his Fenris back as they were meant to be.

Hawke had taken the neutralized (they hoped) figurine with him when he and Isabela went to barter the day into a night on Varric's tab at the Hanged Man. Bodahn and Sandal were at the kitchen table, sharing the pastry with Orana.

Ser Pounce-a-lot had taken up his rightful place sitting on Brutal's back and was fastidiously licking every bit of himself he could reach while the mabari resignedly lay still with his head resting on his paws.

All was right in the Hawke estate.

And the apostate Grey Warden and the lyrium warrior?

What was the point of being a mage with the elements at your fingertips if you couldn't parlay that into a steaming hot bath whenever you could get a little free time, a lot of water, and an attractive man willing to get naked with you?

Anders sank down in the water, groaning with unabashed pleasure, while Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders' torso and pulled him into place with his back against Fenris' chest. It wasn't a huge tub, but it was big enough for two people who didn't mind being very close, and tonight it was clear that neither of them minded.

He went with the pull and leaned his head back against Fenris' shoulder. "I'm sorry I locked you in the bathroom."

"You should be," Fenris said, but for a wonder, he sounded more amused than angry. "How could it have taken you so long to realize that something was wrong? In what world do I hide under the bed?"

"It all happened so quickly," Anders protested. "I was just trying to minimize the bloodshed before I asked questions." He flicked a few droplets of water over his shoulder without looking to see if he was even aiming at Fenris' face or not. "You were terrible at being a cat, by the way. Where was the feline grace when you were falling off the bed?"

There were serious matters still to address, but this was too nice to ruin just then. How often did they do this? Never. Anders was going to be selfish and enjoy it just a little longer.

Fenris' retaliation for the flicked water was a nip to Anders' earlobe that wasn't going to do a thing to keep him from doing it again. Especially not when he kept his lips by Anders' ear and murmured, "You try it sometime and tell me."

Anders gave a happy shiver. "Keep doing that and I just might."

Fenris snorted and slid lower to lean his head back against the lip of the tub. "The way you dote on that cat, it wouldn't surprise me if you did."

"I always told you that Ser Pounce-a-lot was special. It's not just every cat who could have handled what happened today."

"He would have had me eating raw pigeon if he'd been able to catch one."

Anders chuckled at the thought of Fenris with a pigeon hanging out of his mouth. "He's been a cat his whole life. I guess some things are hard to shake."

"Hn." Fenris rolled his head from side to side, denying something. "I have not been a cat my whole life, but the body almost had a mind of its own. I didn't choose to move my tail or to be so distracted by certain odors."

"You mean Isabela? What does knot tying smell like?"

"Like you would expect." For a long moment, neither of them said anything before Fenris abruptly asked, "Do you think she loves Hawke?"

"Hm?" Anders craned his neck to see Fenris' expression, but it was closed off and Fenris wouldn't meet his eyes. "Do I think Isabela loves Hawke?"

He let Justice puzzle over the tangent while he gave the question itself serious consideration. Did she? Could she?

"She has a ship of her own again, but she's still in Kirkwall. If that isn't love for her, I don't know what is." He waited for some response from Fenris, and when he didn't get one, he asked, "Why?"

He wasn't sure Fenris was going to answer him, but eventually Fenris said, "It was something I smelled on her. I'm not a cat, how can I know that she smelled like she was in love?"

"How does Ser Pounce-a-lot know how to speak the common tongue?" Anders asked. "If you think she smelled like love, maybe you were right."

Was that the right answer?

Fenris' closed expression broke into a smile that tied a knot of yearning behind Anders' sternum. What would he give to see that smile every day? Who would he kill if they threatened to take Fenris away? He would give anything and kill anyone, and there was no corner of his mind where that seemed wrong.

How far they'd come from that inn room in Amaranthine when he had Fenris had been chained together and still refused to share a bath. How far they'd come from a night in the Hanged Man when Anders had begged to be touched and Fenris had denied him because it wasn't the right time.

He gently caught one of Fenris' wrists and used his hold to raise his hand and press a kiss on his palm, carefully avoiding the lines of lyrium there. How far they'd come, and now, as much as he loved seeing Fenris smile, they were going back to a summer night in the Lowerdark.

"How bad is the pain in your hip?"

Fenris stiffened, and Anders' gentle hold on his wrist firmed just enough to keep his hand there a moment longer.

"It is nothing."

He kissed Fenris' palm again and released him. Fenris wasn't exactly a captive audience, but the water was still hot and they were still naked, and up until a sentence ago, they'd been having a nice time after a long, trying day. He was hoping Fenris would stay.

"Ser Pounce-a-lot told me that you're in pain and that your hip is the worst. How bad is it?" He lightly brushed his fingertips along an unmarked part of Fenris' leg. "You do have a healer at your beck and call, why not take advantage of me?"

It was a pity the context didn't allow for innuendo.

"Because there is nothing you can do." Anders knew those clipped tones – Fenris was not happy with the direction their conversation was taking.

"You don't know that."

He should tell Fenris that Danarius had told him the marks required maintenance. He should have told Fenris the minute he'd been rescued from Danarius' blighted chair, but even now, the thought of talking about that time turned his tongue to lead.

He straightened up and braced himself on the sides of the tub while he twisted and sloshed water onto the floor and managed to get himself turned around, kneeling between Fenris' legs. "What's wrong with your hip is my fault. Just tell me you'll let me try to find a way to fix it."

Fenris shook his head. "It isn't your––"

Anders took the most direct route to cutting off that line of bullshit before Fenris could say it wasn't his fault. He lunged forward and caught him with a kiss, breathing the word in and refusing to let it go while Fenris decided whether to pull him in or push him away.

It could have gone either way when Fenris' hands settled on his shoulders. They'd come a long way, but how far?

Far enough that when Fenris did push, he did it only lightly, and only after he had stolen Anders' breath away in turn. He pushed just enough to be able to look him in the eye and hold his gaze.

Isabela was right, Anders thought, not for the first time, Fenris really did have pretty eyes.

"I'll say yes if you answer one question." Anders nodded without taking his eyes off of Fenris. "Do you love me?"

"I–– uh…" He blinked and licked his lips. "What?"

"Isabela wasn't the only person I smelled today." Fenris gave Anders' shoulders a little shake. "Do you love me?"

First Pounce calling Fenris his boyfriend and now this? Maybe he should try being a cat for a while. Maybe he'd understand the elf for a change.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed around the lump that had lodged itself there.

"Anders…"

"Yes."

"Yes."