As courtships went, it was a rather unusual one. There was no declaration of intent between them, other than certain looks exchanged. No gifts given from one to the other. But there was time spent together, at least once each day. Sometimes it would be just a word of two exchanged as they passed in the hallway or mess hall; sometimes a longer conversation in Aedan's office, or the mess hall, up in the roof garden, or down in the practise yard while watching others spar. Aedan seemed to have an insatiable interest about Fenris' experiences in the north; his time in Tevinter, or among the fog-warriors of Seheron; the years in Kirkwall as Hawke's companion; his time afterwards, spent helping Sebastian to reclaim Starkhaven. Recovering Marian and Anders, in all its ugliness, and the years since. An interest in his powers as well, from his ability to phase through objects and people to his more recent ability to summon wisps.

Fenris learned more of Aedan too; listened, as Aedan himself or some one of the wardens told stories of Aedan's history, his family, their fate. The Blight Year, and what Aedan and Alistair had done to rally the kingdom and, in the end, defeat the Archdemon. Learned too of the man's appetites, which were prodigious; like many of the wardens he believed in taking his pleasures as and when he could. Velanna was the only lover he'd ever curbed his appetites for, and that because she'd disliked him straying. Though whenever they were on the outs, which had apparently happened with some regularity, he'd enjoyed himself among his wardens until she took him back again. Until the time came when she didn't take him back, and left instead.

There was time spent sparring together in the practise yard, testing their strength against each other. They were well-matched there; sometimes one of them would win their bout, sometimes the other. The wardens thought well of Fenris' prowess, having seen him defeat their commander without their own advantages of strength, speed and stamina. But he had his own advantages, though only rarely did he need to make use of the powers his brands gave him to turn a fight to his benefit. Best of all was the times when it was just them in the yard, no witnesses. Things changed then, the fights becoming flirtations, and when one of them would succeed in pinning the other they'd pause for just a moment, exchanging speaking looks before resuming the struggle.

They had the same goal, Fenris knew, and yet they circled around it, only sometimes warily approaching it. In that way some weeks of time passed, Fenris finding himself feeling more and more at home among the wardens.

Fenris felt good, if more than a little sore. He'd taken on three wardens at once in a small melee in the practise yard, and managed to hold them all off, though it had left him bruised and sore from the effort and the buffets he'd had to take when unable to turn aside the practise blades they'd been using. He hissed in pain as he peeled out of his leathers, probing gingerly with his fingers at a large, darkening bruise over his ribs, one gained when he'd taken a hit himself to land a hit on someone else, the blow proving rather stronger than he's expected, the warden who'd landed it having expected him to dodge it and not, therefore, having made any effort to either withhold his full strength or pull the blow.

"Are your ribs broken?" a familiar voice asked.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Aedan. "No. Merely rather bruised," he said, then moved to one side and stepped down into one of the large sunken tubs that dotted the room, one hot enough to have wisps of steam rising from its surface. He hissed again as he lowered himself into the waters. "Join me," he invited.

Aedan said nothing, but after only a brief pause he heard the other man undressing, and then the large man was stepping down into the tub and taking a seat facing him. They sat in silence at first, studying each other.

He'd had glimpses of the other man before, of course; arms bared by a sleeveless jerkin, a flash of pale untanned belly when the man stretched. He knew the width of his shoulders already, the surprising narrowness of his hips, legs that were well-muscled, but lean. He was, in the way of many human men, rather on the hairy side; a long tuft of black hairs beneath each arm, a mat of curly hairs covering chest and shoulders, thinning down arms and legs. A thicker line, trailing down from matted chest to black-furred groin, his sex well-shaped and bobbing just slightly in the warm waters, betraying Aedan's interest. An interest Fenris returned.

Fenris let his gaze lift back upwards, studying the planes of Aedan's face, his close-shaven chin set and lips thinned as Aedan studied him in turn. Those intense, pale blue eyes, so startling against the tanned skin of his face and his jet black hair.

"Anders seems to be adjusting well to living here again," Aedan suddenly said.

"He does. I know he's pleased that you've given consent for him to open a clinic here; he's always seemed happiest when healing others."

Aedan grunted, and frowned. "I'm glad he's at least content; this place will have to be a prison for him for some years to come."

"Must it be?" Fenris asked, surprised. "Was not his punishment enough?"

Aedan grimaced. "I might consider it so; but the Chantry demands more, and it would be unwise of me to let him beyond these walls where they might attempt to snatch him away in order to exact their own far harsher punishment on him. I cannot waste the number of wardens it would take to be sure he is well-protected outside the Keep; so I have made a virtue of necessity and told him that he is confined to within our walls for the foreseeable future. Perhaps in a few years the chantry will have turned their attention elsewhere and he can go out occasionally, though I think even then it would not be wise to send him out on patrols; the chantry has a long memory. But he can serve here, healing the wardens and anyone else who makes their way here seeking aid."

Fenris nodded, finding he agreed with Aedan's judgement of the situation. Strange to think of Anders cooped up within the Keep for what might be several years time, especially as much as the mage had hated being contained in the past. And yet... he did not think Anders would actually want to escape. He had chosen to return here. Perhaps the biggest difference between a jail and a refuge was who controlled the door of it, and Anders clearly trusted Aedan.

"I hope Feynriel will remain as well," Aedan said. "He and Anders are clearly close, and it will keep Anders happier to have him on hand. And I am intrigued by the mage's powers; especially this one he has of restoring the Tranquil to themselves. Though I am not sure if such a thing would be counted as a gift or a curse."

"I suspect it will depend very much on the Tranquil themselves," Fenris said. "I know there are some who chose to have themselves made such; terrified of their own powers. I think it would be no kindness to restore such a person. But Hawke had what was likely the wisest suggestion; to let each Tranquil decide for themselves whether or not this is a thing they wish done."

Aedan grunted again, brow wrinkling in thought. "One problem will be how to actually use this ability, if he does. As much as I and Alistair have done to increase the freedom of mages here in Ferelden, as thanks for their help in ending the blight, and in cleaning the blight-tainted areas of our country since, the chantry is rather unwilling to co-operate with either of us. And if they were aware of the skill your friend has learned, I am certain they would be even more interested in his death, by whatever means possible, than they wish Anders dead. If Feynriel does make further use of that particular capability, it will have to be very discreetly done." His eyes lifted to meet Fenris', gaze intense. "I am sure you have thoughts of your own on the subject of mages and mage freedom, given your time in Tevinter."

Fenris grimaced. "Yes. There was a time I hated all mages indiscriminately. I have come to accept that mages, like all men, are a mix of the bad and the good. But where a bad man might kills dozens, even hundreds over time, a bad mage can do the same in a frighteningly short time; and gain power from the act, which is even worse, as it presents a great temptation to those with no morals save what is best for themselves."

"Which is why the chantry insists on the control of all mages," Aedan said.

Fenris nodded. "And yet that punishes the good for the potential crimes of the bad, and increases the chance that they themselves, out of desperation or hatred or for some other reason, might turn to the bad as well. Especially when their jailors prove to be evil and cruel, as I saw happen in Kirkwall; even without Anders' actions there, the place was a tinderbox, waiting only a spark to explode in violence." He sighed. "There are no easy answers. I have come to believe that Anders was correct in his insistence that the system is wrong, and that it must change, but as to what such change could be, or how to bring it about?" He paused for a moment, and shrugged, then looked questioningly at Aedan. "How do the Grey Wardens deal with the problem of mages within their own ranks?"

Aedan grinned briefly. "We keep them too busy to worry about anything else," he said, then sighed. "In truth, in most countries the chantry limits the wardens to only having one mage warden at a time, and problems with them are rare to non-existent, as far as I've been able to learn. Only here in Ferelden have we managed to force the chantry to break that rule; apart from Anders and his guest, I have three mages here, and another at our compound in Denerim, and am trying to squeeze another pair of them out of the Circle for a new establishment that we've begun in the south, among the ruins of Ostagar. Many of the remaining darkspawn in the Deep Roads hereabouts seem attracted to there, I suppose sensing some lingering imprint of the Archdemon, and it's better if we keep a small force of wardens on hand to deal with them as they emerge, than to wait until they begin causing problems elsewhere. King Alistair has also established a garrison at Ostagar, to watch over the pass, and at my brother's urgings has opened trade with the Chasind peoples as well."

Aedan frowned. "I have had no problems with the mages in our ranks, apart from when Anders fled, and that was instigated by the chantry while I was absent, so I blame them for what happened. Now that he is back I intend to protect him, as I protect all my wardens, many of whom have unsavoury histories from before having joined our ranks. Despite what the stories might claim, wardens are not noble heroes; we're mostly cut-throats, poachers, pick-pockets, forgers and thieves, even murderers. We do not fight honourably in battle; we fight to win. By any means necessary, because if we fail, so do all the noble knights in their shiny armour; the lords in their manors and castles, the peasants in their hovels, the elves in their forests and alienages. Honour is something Grey Wardens cannot afford. There is only duty, until we die or are killed."

Fenris nodded. He'd heard like words from several of his friends among the wardens; had heard from them too the words of their joining ritual, that spoke of a duty that could not be foresworn. And wondered, sometimes, if it was that duty that had, in the end, drawn Anders back here, as much as any desire for penance or sanctuary.

"Are you sure you've no interest in becoming a warden?" Aedan asked once again, eyes warm with amusement.

Fenris laughed, and rose to his feet. "No. As interesting as I am finding my time here, I have itchy feet, and no wish to be tied down to any one place."

Aedan smiled crookedly, and rose as well, the water sheeting off of him. "You remind me of another elf I know," he said glumly.

"Zevran?" Fenris asked, and was rewarded by a surprised look from Aedan. "I met him once. And I know Isabela quite well, so I'd heard much of him long before one of your wardens chanced to mention his name," he explained as he picked up a towel and began wiping himself down, wincing as the motion caused his bruised side to twinge. The hot soak had helped considerably with the pain, but it was still a rather large and ugly bruise.

Aedan noticed his wince, and looked at Fenris' bruised side, frowning. "You need something on that, I think. Allow me?"

Fenris nodded, and wrapped the towel around his waist. Aedan had snatched up a towel as well, and did likewise as he walked over to open a cabinet along one wall, one kept well-stocked with bandages and poultices for the treatment of minor injuries; things that would require re-application after bathing. He selected a squat ceramic jar and worked out the cork. The jar was half-filled of a yellowish greasy substance, flecked with bits of green and brown – herbs of some kind.

"Over here," he said, gesturing to a nearby shelf, and set the jar down after scooping some out on his fingertips. Fenris walked over, and turned partially away, lifting his arm so that Aedan could begin smearing the salve on his skin. It had a strong sharp odour, like mint, but not, and felt cool against his bath-heated skin. He was very aware of the touch of Aedan's fingers; business-like at first, but as the salve began to take effect, numbing the bruise, slowly to more of a stroking movement. He heard, too, Aedan's breathing change pace; deeper, slower breaths, with a slight hitch at times. He bent his head, eyes half-lidding in enjoyment of the touch, and was not surprised when after a while Aedan's other hand rose to cup around the other side of his waist, warm and firm, nor when the man bent close and nosed at the nape of his neck, then kissed him there.

"I should warn you," Aedan said huskily.

"About what?" Fenris asked, turning to face him, looking up into those pale eyes, a touch darker now with pupils widely blown.

"I am... a difficult man sometimes. Moody. Hard to get along with."

Fenris laughed softly. "You sound like you are describing myself," he told Aedan, then reached up and cupped his hand around the back of Aedan's head, guiding him down for another kiss, on the lips this time.

Aedan swallowed when they parted. "I sleep around. A lot."

"I did say I know Isabela well, did I not? I learned much from her, including enjoying my pleasures as and when I find them. Surely you haven't missed noticing how many of your wardens I've slept with already?"

It was Aedan who laughed that time, and then ghosted another kiss across Fenris' lips, hands rising to curve around his waist and draw him closer. "Yes, I noticed. All right. I tend to be obsessive in my relationships. Especially with elves, for whatever reason."

Fenris shrugged. "As long as you do not try to keep me here when I am ready to move on, I do not mind a little obsession. And given that I know Zevran travels considerably, and that your Velanna has moved on without you attempting to stop her, I am assuming that you do not have the sort of obsession that demands your lovers remain always with you."

Aedan smiled, looking relieved. "No. I don't. Though I swear, elves must be part-cat; there isn't a one of you I've known yet who didn't prefer to come and go as they pleased, and only join me here when they feel like it."

"You don't sound like you mind that," Fenris said.

"I suppose I don't," Aedan agreed, and smiled. "Perhaps because, apart from in the case of Velanna, I've always been sure that they would return sooner or later. And even she might yet surprise me, though... I do not think our relationship will return to what it was, if she does," he said, frowning slightly. "But enough of others; it is you I am here with now. And interested in. Will you stay?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"For now, yes," Fenris agreed. "I am sworn to defend Feynriel for some period of time; we have never yet discussed under what circumstances my debt to him will end. If he leaves I will have to go with him. And even if he stays, sooner or later I will want to leave anyway; there are others I care for that I would wish to visit, in the north."

Aedan chewed his lip for a moment. "And would you return, afterwards...?"

Fenris smiled. "Yes. As long as I have friends here, and am welcome. I like wandering, like seeing what is over the horizon, but I also like having homes I can return to when I wish to rest for a while."

Aedan sighed in relief, and smiled warmly at Fenris. "Then... shall we put an end to all this pussy-footing around each other we've been doing? I have a very large bed in my room that I would be very pleased to share with you, for as long a time as you're willing to occupy it. Or if you'd prefer separate quarters of your own, that too can be arranged..."

Fenris wrinkled his nose. "Easiest to guard Feynriel if I remain close to him; my current room is sufficient for my needs. Though I see no reason not to spend time in your bed occasionally."

Aedan grinned. "Now?" he suggested hopefully.

Fenris laughed. "I suppose," he agreed. "Though with this bruise I'm not going to be up anything particularly energetic."

"I'll provide the energy for today then" Aedan said, giving him a look that smouldered.

Fenris grinned, and fetched his discarded armour before following Aedan out of the room and upstairs. He found himself hoping that Feynriel remained here for some time; he thought it likely, given how close the two mages had become, and especially with Anders being both teacher and lover to the younger mage. Feynriel was helping out in the clinic, and learning more of the healing arts while he did so.

But that was something to worry about later; for now, he would simply enjoy being here, and being alive.