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Chapter Text

Fenris was tired and cold and had decided that he really hated the Wounded Coast. The salted air that wafted in from the Waking Sea was freezing, more so than usual. The one shining light in this ridiculous trip that Marian Hawke had dragged him on was his mate beside him.

Anders was dozing next to him where they were curled up naked in their tent. Although the mage had only been a wolf for a few short months, he had mastered the shifts and extreme emotions with the same determination that he applied to everything else, whether it was the patients in his clinic or the writing of his manifesto.

Leaning down to press a kiss to the mage's shoulder blade, Fenris smiled as he thought about their relationship. It had been a rocky start, filled with arguments and snapping of teeth and broken wine bottles when they had turned to violence, but Fenris always waited for Anders to return, and when he did, they whispered their apologies and curled up together in their bed. Such incidents were becoming less common as they settled into mutual domesticity.

Now though, Anders hummed appreciatively under Fenris's lips and arched up into the simple touch. Anders was always more feline than anything else, which amused Fenris to no end. He smiled at the thought and nuzzled into the man's back, gliding a hand down his pale side.

"I was sleeping," Anders murmured, the words tinged with amusement.

"Liar," Fenris chuckled as his lips curled up into a grin.

"Are you going to make it up to me?"

"Are you asking me to, mage?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt, would it?" Anders grinned against the pale forearm that he had been using as a pillow.

Fenris laughed softly, not wanting to wake Hawke and Varric in the other tent. He surged up and nipped at the mating bite on the back of Anders's neck, revelling in the gentle moan it got him. Anders stretched out as far as the tent would allow and Fenris moved to straddle the backs of his thighs, smoothing his hands down the expanse of skin in front of him.

"I had a dream..." Anders muttered, a strain in his voice that had Fenris worried.

"Oh?" He tried to make light of his concern but he didn't doubt that the mage had heard it anyway.

"It was, uh... We... Maker, it's just stupid, carry on."

"I can multi-task. Tell me, else I'll have to pull it from you some other way."

Fenris pressed his fingertips against the mage's hole, just rubbing without entering. He loved the way Anders's breath caught in his throat at the action and carried on as he kissed his way slowly down the long spine of his mate.

"Fuck, Fenris..." Anders moaned softly, pressing his hips back to try and get something more.

"Tell me," the elf ordered, dipping one fingertip into the mage very briefly.

"Fuck, w-we had a baby, a little wolf, a cub a-and I..."

Fenris stopped his movements, fingers against Anders's ass and lips hovering over his skin. He remembered his own dream from months ago, before he and Anders had mated. Since then, the dream had all but vanished from his nightly Fade visits. Clearly it had moved onto Anders instead. Anders seemed to take his pause as anger or something similar because he started babbling.

"I mean, it's not-- I wouldn't, I mean-- I know that we can't and it would be dangerous even if we did, because of just who we are and-- Oh..." Anders moaned softly as Fenris pushed a finger into him and nipped at the bumps of his vertebrae where he was still too thin.

"Is that what you want, Anders?" he purred as he moved further down. "You want me to fill you with my cubs?"

Anders bit into the flesh of his arm to muffle his moan, but Fenris could feel the rumble of it under his lips. Anders let loose a plaintive little whimper and spread his legs awkwardly. Fenris lifted himself off the mage's thighs in order to allow him to arrange himself. Fenris would never deny that his mage made a pretty picture when he was desperate; ass up, knees spread wide and a cheek pressed into whatever surface they were using was damn near irresistible and Anders knew it.

"Yes," he admitted after a moment.

Fenris hummed thoughtfully as he grasped at his mate's cheeks, spreading them to look at his flushed pink hole. "I'm going to stuff you with my seed until it can't do anything but take, until your belly is swollen with child, my child. Our child."

"Please, Fenris, please, need it, need you," Anders whimpered, arching his spine in submission.

Fenris pressed a kiss to Anders's hole, chuckling slightly at the shaking breath. The thought of Anders swollen with child was far more attractive than he imagined it would be, both sexually and emotionally.

"Hurry, please," Anders begged. "Still open from this morning, please."

Grabbing the oil that always sat on top of the pile of their clothes, Fenris pushed three fingers into Anders with only the slightest resistance. It always amazed him just how long Anders would stay loose for, and he loved it. There was something so perfect about Anders remaining ready for him at any time of the day, for his cock only. Anders moaned and pushed back to try and fuck himself on the fingers there. Fenris could feel his own cock throbbing with need and desire. There was the need to fuck, the need to claim, but also the desire to hold his mate, to remind him that he was loved.

"Roll over," he growled as he pulled his fingers free and coated his cock with the remaining oil.

Anders scrambling to do as he was told and was on his back within moments, eyes wide as he looked up at the elf, lips swollen and parted as he dragged breath into his lungs. Fenris settled himself over the mage and kissed him softly while he pulled bony knees over his own thighs.

"Please," Anders whispered, the word fanning his lips sweetly.

Fenris kissed him again and positioned himself to push in, supporting himself on his elbows while his fingers tangled in long blond hair. Their movements were slow, gentle, the rocking of their hips in tune with the desperate press of their lips.

It wasn't long - an embarrassingly short time - before Fenris's hips were stuttering with how close he was, but Anders was right there too. The intensity was simply too much, the love and desire and need too strong. Fenris forced himself to hold on for a little longer, just so he could at least see the look on Anders's face when he reached his pleasure.

"So beautiful," Fenris murmured, because it was simply true.

"Fenris, I--" Anders gasped as he groaned and shuddered through his orgasm, his seed splattering over his own stomach.

Fenris followed after only another moment, pushing his length as far inside of Anders as he could, as if he could really get the other wolf pregnant. While he caught his breath, he mouthed at the delicate line of Anders's collarbone.

"My mate," he growled softly.

"All yours," Anders promised with a sleepy smile.

Fenris pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt him. Anders whined quietly and pouted, making Fenris chuckle softly; the mage was far too fond of trying to sleep with the elf's length still inside of him, even if they both moved too much in the night to keep it there. Not for lack of trying, of course.

Before he lay down and pulled the mage into his arms, Fenris leaned down to press a kiss to the expanse of skin between his pointy hips, where a child would grow if such a thing were possible. The ache in his chest was poignant; at that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to see his mate round and happy with their cub inside of him. When he looked up at Anders, it was clear that the mage was thinking exactly the same thing if his sad smile was anything to go by.

They lay together and there was nothing else in the whole of Thedas but them and the baby that existed solely in their minds.

Chapter Text

The second time it happened they were heading for the Hanged Man. Usually they walked with Hawke - and Isabela if the pirate was with Hawke at the time - but today Hawke was already there, leaving Fenris and Anders to make their way without her.

Beside Fenris, Anders came to a stop with a low whine that barely registered in his sensitive ears. Fenris turned to his mate quickly, guard raised as he searched for any source of danger or pain. After a brief moment, he noticed the melancholic look in the mage's eyes and followed his gaze. One of the market's merchants had his heavily pregnant wife hanging off his arm as they chatted with a customer.

Turning back to Anders, Fenris couldn't help his yelp as he found himself pulled into a nearby alleyway with a needy mage beginning to rub over him. He took a shaky breath and tried to stop Anders, hands grasping at his coat to hold him still.

"Please Fenris," Anders begged, the words little more than a breath. "Please, you've got to make me like her, all round and happy, please."

"This is hardly sanitary, mage," Fenris grumbled, even as he reached for the laces of the leggings underneath the long coat.

"Don't care," he gasped when fingertips brushed the hardening flesh of his cock. "Fuck me, damn it."

Fenris grabbed Anders's hips and span his quickly, pushing him against the wall with a growl.

"Do not make demands of me, Anders," he growled, nipping playfully at the mating mark on Anders's neck.

Anders whimpered softly, body going limp except for the jutting length of his erection. No matter what they did, Anders's wolf still saw Fenris as alpha. It had its benefits, particularly when they played at domination; it was only ever light, their pasts too overbearing for anything heavy, but having Anders turn placid beneath him with only a growl was far too exciting for either of them to pass up.

"So desperate for a pup that you want it right here, hm?"

"Yeah, give it to me," Anders purred in reply, bending forward to press his ass back against Fenris's cock as he shoved his trousers down around his knees and hitched up his coat. "Want to feel a cub in me, want to carry her."

"'Her'? Is that what you see for us, mage, a little girl?"

Fenris wet his fingers with saliva and plunged two of them into the mage's hole, spreading them wide to get him ready quickly. The shuddering breath it tore from Anders's throat sparked arousal in his veins as they both moved quickly, the two of them suddenly far too desperate.

"Y-Yeah, a baby girl. She'd have your--ah!" Anders gasped, biting down hard on his lips. "Your eyes."

"And your hair," Fenris added, unable to help a smile at the image in his mind. "We'd best start making her then, hm?"

Wrapping Anders's hair around his fingers, Fenris tugged hard until Anders was bent back, neck bared to him in forced submission. Fenris growled and sank his growing fangs into the skin there, holding his other hand over the mage's mouth to stop the near scream it got him. He could taste the faint tang of blood and pulled back to watch the small puncture wound heal. The bite was a vivid, vicious red against Anders's pale skin and it was the sight of it that had Fenris shoving into him.

Their coupling was brutal and savage, filled with pleasure so intense that Anders was silent, mouth open in a soundless moan. Fenris grunted at the sight of it. He could feel his wolf prowling underneath his skin, wanting to get out, to tear at Anders and hold him down and just fuck him, but he held it back. 

Fenris could tell how close Anders was in the twitching of his muscles, the tension in his fists, but he didn't touch him, knowing the mage could come just from this, and he did. Anders came, near silent in his pleasure, his seed hitting the filthy brickwork with a wet splatter. Fenris released his hair and kept the hand over his mouth as he gripped his hips to pound into his ruthlessly. Anders was no doubt over-sensitive already, but the mage began sucking on his fingers, curling his tongue around them and scraping his teeth over the lyrium lines there.

The feeling of teeth on his lyrium and the wet heat around his fingers and cock were what had Fenris coming, the tension in his muscles snapping back at him, leaving him drained and leaning against the mage for support as he released into his tight channel, hips jerking. They were both panting heavily and coated in sweat, limbs heavy as Fenris pulled out and tugged Anders's leggings back up. 

"Do we have to go to the Hanged Man?" Anders groaned sleepily, a soft whine underneath the words. 

Fenris chuckled tiredly. "We should. They will only come to find us otherwise."

Sighing dramatically, Anders gave in and turned around to face him. Anders was beautiful all the time, but like this - flushed and sweaty and sated - he was perfect. Fenris knotted the ties of their leggings deftly, only a slight tremor in his fingers. 

"What would she be called?" Anders asked quietly, eyes downcast. 

"I don't know. I have no memories of my family, so we couldn't name her after them."

"I had a sister," Anders said with a frown, "but I don't remember her name. Probably some awful thing from the Anderfels, anyway. Unpronounceable."

Fenris smiled and leaned up to kiss his mate softly, the act so at odds with what they'd just done. 

"What about a boy?" the mage asked with a thoughtful smile in return. 

"Karl," Fenris said without hesitation. 

Anders blinked in surprise and was still for a few moments before a quiet sob ripped free of his lips. He caught any further noise in his hands and tears came to his eyes as he stared at Fenris. 

"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled him into his arms and kissed his lips softly. "Thank you."

They never made it to the Hanged Man, heading back to the mansion instead. Of course, when Isabel picked the lock to see why they hadn't arrived and she saw them making love slowly in front of the fireplace, she left them alone with a smile. 

Chapter Text

Fenris woke first as usual, too used to waking at dawn to service his master, even now. Anders, however, had worked himself to exhaustion over the course of several days after a cave in at the Bone Pit and the mage stayed asleep. Fenris watched Anders for a moment, smiling at the way his lips curled as he slept, the soft rise and fall of his chest, the strands of hair that caressed his cheek. He reached out to brush the loose hair behind his ear and kissed his forehead when he hummed happily. 

Anders was slow to wake when he was as exhausted as he had been and this morning was no different, but Fenris would never shout or huff when given the opportunity to admire Anders in his slumber. The lines of stress faded away and the permanent tiredness etched into his face smoothed and he became ethereal in the place of his usual beauty. 

"Morning," the mage murmured sleepily without opening his eyes, a smile playing on his mouth. 

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" Fenris asked, sliding a hand down Anders's side slowly. 

"Horny," he grinned, peeking out from underneath a cracked eyelid. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too. You need to remember that you are more than your clinic, mage," he scolded softly. 

"I know, it's just..."

Fenris pulled Anders close, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him there. Their lips brushed over each other every time they breathed, they were that close. Anders was awake now, eyes wide and pupils blown with developing lust. 

"Are you still tired?" Fenris purred, his hand dropping to Anders's cock, rubbing it slowly to hardness. 

Anders bit his lip, breath catching in his throat, and he shook his head. His long fingers tangled in white hair and gripped at a lyrium-lined shoulder as he moaned softly, hips beginning to jerk into the touch slowly. 

"Tighter," Anders whispered. 

Fenris grinned against the mage's hair and loosened his grip ever so slightly, the touch barely there. Anders whined and smacked his shoulder lightly, almost playfully. 

"Don't you want to put a baby in me, Fenris?" Anders asked in a voice that would have been innocent if not for the lust so evident on his face. 

"I don't hear you asking very nicely, mage. I won't let you raise our child with such crude manners," Fenris teased. 

"Please," he huffed in response, starting to grin despite the forced annoyance. 

Fenris grinned in return and rolled them so he was over Anders, the mage's hands toying in the hair at the base of his head. He leaned down and kissed him softly, moving to roll their hips together slowly, their cocks dragging against each other. Fenris groaned appreciatively at the feeling, at the sight of Anders pulling away to bite his lip. He kept it up as he kissed down his neck slowly, nipping and biting lightly, playfully. 

Anders just gripped onto his hair and rubbed against him with the sweetest whimpers and moans--but Fenris forced himself to keep it slow; Anders deserved no less after working so hard at the clinic. He carried on down the mage's neck and onto his chest, sucking flushed nipples into his mouth and bringing them to full hardness like he had with Anders's prick. 

"Fuck," Anders gasped, arching and pulling Fenris's head closer to his chest. 

Chuckling quietly, Fenris looked up at him through his eyelashes and smirked as he held one nipple between his teeth and pulled until it popped out of his mouth, Anders's whine getting higher with every second. He moved down further, dipping his tongue into his navel and nipping at his soft skin. He was still too thin, but he was slowly putting weight on now that Fenris was forcing him to eat, even if they had to go and hunt on the coast to persuade him. 

"My mate," Fenris growled, eyes glowing softly, as he sucked on a sharp hipbone.

Anders preened under the attention and nodded. "Yours. And you're mine." Anders was always more hesitant with such declarations of possession, but Fenris never minded them; he was not Danarius. 

"All yours," he promised with a small smile.

Fenris's hands went underneath Anders's ass to lift his hips free of the mattress. Anders bit his lip in anticipation. Fenris just grinned wolfishly and dived into the mage's hole with a wriggling tongue, tearing a ragged howl from his throat. Closing his eyes to focus on the task at hand, Fenris listened to his mate's soft little whimpers and pleading whines and needy howls. He let the sounds stroke his ears as he concentrated on the pushing and curling and dragging of his tongue inside of Anders. Anders gave himself over to sensation, hips grinding down as much as he could manage, trying to get more of everything. 

"Please, fuck me," Anders whispered, biting his lip and drawing blood where the pinpricks of his fangs had dropped down. 

"Patience, amatus," Fenris grinned, eyes glittering with delight. 

Anders whined and tugged on his hair. Fenris only chuckled again and pushed a finger in alongside his tongue, the two digits curling and stretching and reducing Anders to a ragged, desperate mess easily. Fenris added a second finger and growled possessively at the whimper. His jaw was tired and aching already, but he would not leave Anders unsatisfied. He would finish the mage, fuck him and then they would sleep again. 

It didn't take much for Anders to get close; his skin had become more sensitive since becoming a wolf and he was still adjusting to the difference. So when Anders started hissing and writhing on the bed, clawing at his shoulders and neck, Fenris knew he was nearly there. Anders in the throes of orgasm was a magnificent sight: hair tousled and messy, lips red and swollen, cheeks and throat flushed with desire. 

"Fenris, I--"

One sharp jab at his prostate and Anders was shouting his orgasm as he came over his stomach. The seed pooled in the soft dips of his abs, just begging to be licked up. Fenris reluctantly held himself back as he reached for the oil, coating his cock with it before Anders had even thought to cast a grease spell instead. 

Fenris pushed in slowly, muscles tense from holding back, and started to move after a moment. Every drag of his cock inside Anders's heat had them both whimpering and moaning, the feeling nearly too much. Aligning their lips for a deep kiss was difficult and messy, their noses clashing and teeth clacking together. Fenris grinned at him and kissed him properly, forcing his tongue between his lips before he could open them. 

"Can't wait for our baby," Anders whispered when they parted. The words had Fenris's hips jerking forcefully. "Our beautiful little cub. She'll be big like you."

"Gold like you," Fenris gasped, imagined the wolf form of their cub with frightening clarity. 

Fenris moved slowly, pushing and pulling as Anders whimpered beneath him. Anders began mouthing at his neck, teeth scraping across his mating bite with a sudden flush of pleasure. 

"Ah!" he hissed as he came suddenly, resting his forehead against Anders's as he panted and his hips jerked through his orgasm. 

Anders was now all but purring, hands running over any skin he could reach, eyes hooded with sleep. When Fenris pulled free, he lay himself over Anders, ignoring the mess between them and kissed him deeply, lovingly. Grasping at him again, Anders returned the kiss with just as much fervour. 

"Amatus..." Fenris whispered, opening his eyes to look at his mate. 

"What does that mean?" Anders asked, lips curling as they settled down to sleep again. 

"Beloved. My amatus."

"Yours," he promised, giggling as Fenris rubbed his cheek over his head and chest and shoulder, spreading their intermingled scent before they slept.  

Chapter Text

Anders was due back hours ago. Fenris knew there was likely no reason to worry, but there were too many variables, too many possibilities; he might simply be too busy at the clinic to leave, maybe he'd been dragged on a mission for the mage underground, it was even possible that the Templars had him. By the Void, Danarius could even have him. Fenris was tired of waiting and worrying. He was not used to such emotions, especially not at the expense of another--a mage in particular. But Anders was his - his lover, his mage, his mate - and not even the Maker could keep Anders from him for long.

Grabbing his sword and heading for the cellar, Fenris was anxious. Every Hightown mansion had an escape route into Darktown - it was best not to wonder what for - and it was this route that Fenris took. The whole of Kirkwall knew him as a companion of the Champion's, which didn't help in keeping hidden from any passing Magisters, and kept out of his way. Upon approaching the clinic, the first thing that hit Fenris was the noise. Or rather the lack of it. Darktown could never be described as 'quiet' but the clinic was always drowned in the sound of people clamouring for healing. Now though, there was nothing.

Fenris drew his sword cautiously. His hand closed around the doorknob before he wrenched it open.

There was a frightened yelp as Anders jumped near out of his skin. The mage was sat on a simple cot, a bundle in his arms. His eyes were wide with panic but he calmed at the sight of a familiar elf in the doorway.

"Fenris!" Anders hissed, as if he was the one in the wrong. "Shut the door!"

Fenris blinked in surprise and did as he was told. Anders was fine, but why hadn't he come home? When he said as much, Anders blushed softly and looked down at the thing in his arms.

"His mother needed to go to the market; I said I'd watch him for a bit," the mage admitted reluctantly. 

'He'? Fenris approached quietly, trying to peek at the thing Anders was holding. Upon closer inspection, it was a child. No, a babe. Small and weak and vulnerable with skin that looked so soft a feather would bounce on it. The air was gone from his lungs. He looked up at Anders and saw his own thoughts mirrored in those amber eyes: they couldn't have this. Not really, not with who they were, what they were. Fenris rested his head against Anders's shoulder and looked down at the child, reaching out to touch hesitantly.

"Gauntlets," Anders reminded.

They were gone within a second, cast onto the foot of the cot so he could stroking his fingers down the boy's cheek. The contrast of their skin was odd for a moment before he ignored the thought and focused on the small infant in his mate's arms. There was a yearning in his chest so strong that he didn't think he could resist, but vague. It was just a want, a need, but not for anything in particular that he could tell. No, he knew. It was this. A need of this quiet, momentary domesticity. Anders clearly felt the same if the way he leaned against Fenris's chest and clutched at his arm was anything to go by.

"Do you want to hold him?" Anders asked.

Fenris shook his head automatically; he would break this small thing, surely. There was no way that he wouldn't, not with how small it was. It was painful in a way, that this moment was so perfect, but stolen. This wasn't their child. The babe's mother would return soon, no doubt, and he would be gone. The woman returned at that moment, shutting the door behind her.

"I'm sorry, healer, I- Oh," she gasped quietly at the sight of Fenris. He looked up at her and dared her to say anything. Instead, she smiled. "Family life would suit you, healer."

"We can't," Anders reminded her softly, holding the child out to her reluctantly.

"You can't have one of your own, but that doesn't mean you can't have one; there are plenty of children without a home."

With a final expression of gratitude and farewell, she was gone, and the child with her. Anders stayed quiet but he pulled Fenris up onto the small bed and curled up against him. Fenris held him close, stroking his hair and curling it around his fingers absent-mindedly, letting it fall through his fingers. He stared blankly ahead, no thoughts in his mind or sight in his eyes. 

"You didn't come home," Fenris said eventually. "I was worried."

"I'm sorry, love," Anders murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck where his head was tucked. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I could hardly say no, and he was just..."

Fenris hummed in agreement with the silent words. Someone as caring and empathetic as Anders wouldn't be able to pass up the opportunity to cradle such a small child in his arms. 

"It's something to think about, isn't it?" Anders asked quietly. 

It was odd how the clinic was empty for once. The lamp wasn't lit though, so perhaps Anders had been working with the underground for something. People stayed away when the lamp wasn't lit ever since Fenris had shown them his fury at having Anders worked off his feet for their mostly petty troubles. It was nice to be alone in the small building though.

"What is?" 

"Taking in a child. Most of them end up dead or prostitutes or--"

"Slaves," Fenris finished. Anders nodded in confirmation. "It is, I suppose. Talking about it in bed, in theory, is all well and good, but would we really have the time to care for another? When you are not with Hawke, you're in the clinic; when you're not in the clinic, you're with the mage underground; when you're not with the mage underground, you are sleeping. There is hardly any time in the day for anything else."

"I know, I know," the mage sighed, "it's just..."

"I know," Fenris murmured, kissing Anders's head and trailing his fingers down his chest slowly to tangle in the laces of his leggings. 

Anders turned his face up to kiss him languidly, tongue and teeth gliding and soothing. When Fenris started to tug at the knots of Anders's trousers, the mage took hold of his wrist and pulled his mouth away. Fenris absolutely did not whine a little. 

"I'm tired. Can we just... nap, and then go home?" Anders asked. 

The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, eyelids drooping ever so slightly, and even if Fenris could ever deny Anders's anything, he couldn't stop him from falling asleep, kissing his face softly and stroking his side until Anders drifted off, and Fenris slipped into the Fade with the sound of the mage's soft, even breathing all around him.

It was a perfect moment, even when Isabela picked the lock later on and Hawke barged in. The two of them left before either of them could stir on the bed. 

Chapter Text

Fenris reached for Anders once they'd found a clearing they liked the look of. Anders smiled and stepped into the circle of his arms, nuzzling into his neck with a soft sigh. Every week, they had this day off from Hawke and the clinic and any other demands that Kirkwall made of them. Anders had suggested using the time for him to practice his shifts and Fenris had readily agreed; shifting once a week meant that his skin didn't start to prickle and the aches didn't come.

They had taken to exploring more of the Wounded Coast and even Sundermount on the odd occasion when Fenris deemed it safe enough. Now that Anders had mastered his shifts, they came to spend time together in their wolf forms. It was somewhere to run, somewhere to huddle during the night. It was perfect.

Now, Anders was pulling back and dropped into his shift with a mischievous smile, chuffing at Fenris impatiently when he didn't copy immediately. Fenris always liked to just admire his mate; the wolf was as beautiful as the mage and it took all of him to hold back from forcing Anders to shift back in order to ravish him.

Once, Isabela asked whether they had sex in their wolf forms, which wasn't something Fenris had ever even considered and from the surprised look on Anders's face, he hadn't either. They'd talked about it since and both had reservations so they hadn't tried it. Safe to say, Isabel was disappointed.

Anders whined and nipped at his fingers, making him chuckle softly before shifting too, licking at the smaller wolf. Anders brushed against him, his tail wagging slightly in a way that had embarrassed him when Fenris had first told him that he did it. Fenris ducked his head in order for Anders to lead on. Anders barked happily and trotted towards a path through the undergrowth that they'd made a few weeks previously. 

Fenris kept his nose to the ground for a few minutes as they wove through the broken branches and fallen leaves. There was no scent of any other wolves, only the soft undertones of nugs and rabbits. Anders was a few metres ahead, his tail always in sight. Fenris stopped only for a moment to investigate a fresh burrow, digging at the entrance curiously, before a pained whimper curled around his ears. 

He snarled and darted off after the noise immediately; he would recognise that sound anywhere: Anders. He tripped on a gnarled root and felt something in his paw break. He barely felt the pain, too focused on his mate. He pulled himself up and pushed on, bursting into a clearing with a vicious growl, lips curling back from his teeth. 

"Fuck!" a nearby man shouted as he jumped back. 

Fenris ignored him, staring at the man that had pinned Anders down, a knee on his throat to hold him still. Hunters, looking for meat or pelts, no doubt. Fenris pounced at the man, knocking into him with his full weight. There was shouting all around as his fangs sank into the meat of the man's shoulder. With his jaws still clamped down, he tugged hard until he heard blood-curdling screams of agony and let go, snarling as he climbed off him to face the others. There were only six of them, including the one Fenris had just maimed.

"You idiot!" one of the older men yelled. "You nabbed a pregnant one!"

"I didn't know!" another screamed. "Not my fault its mate was just around the corner!"

Fenris had had enough of their yowling; he grabbed the first man by the ankle and threw him at another with all the supernatural strength that he had. It knocked the hunter to the ground underneath the unconscious body of his friend as they all scrambled to run away, grabbing the stuff that they could reach and sprinting down the coast to wherever they'd come from. He stood and watched until he was sure they weren't coming back. 

The pain of his paw struck him then and only worsened when he shifted back, cradling the hand to his chest as he made his way to Anders. He knelt beside the wolf and stroked his side, trying to get the mage's attention. Anders only whimpered and cried softly, not even shifting back. Fenris lay down roughly, winding himself but not caring, and draped his good arm over the shivering body against his front, clutching at the fur of his stomach. 

Closing his eyes, Fenris slipped into a state of semi-consciousness with the pain of his broken hand and waited for Anders to calm enough to shift back. His face was buried in the soft fur of the neck of Anders's neck and he breathed deeply, trying to keep it even to ease the pain. He didn't know how long it was later that he felt a human body pressed against him instead, but he opened his eyes and saw Anders move to roll over. There were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, a red bruise on his neck from where the hunter had pressed him down. 

"Your hand," Anders gasped, reaching for it with the blue glow of magic. 

For once, Fenris didn't complain as Anders healed him. He sighed with relief as the bones in his hand knitted back together, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, Anders was healing himself and wiping the tears from his face. The mage huffed a sigh and used his sleeve to clean the blood from around Fenris's mouth. 

"Messy pup," he said softly. 

Fenris flexed his hand briefly before he pulled Anders close and clutched at him tightly, burying his face in his neck. Anders was silent as he returned the embrace. 

"I'm okay now," Anders promised, the words muffled against Fenris's shoulder. "You saved me."

"I can never let you out of my sight, can I, mage? What would our cub say?" Fenris joked quietly, tightening his arms in a way that must have showed his worry. 

"I imagine she'd be like you and call me a fool mage."

Fenris laughed softly, grateful for Anders's answering smile against his skin. 

"Would you like to go home?" Fenris asked. 

"We came here for a good time," the mage answered, shaking his head. "I intend to have one."

"Oh?" Fenris asked, lips curling as he felt Anders's fingers creeping towards the laces of his leggings. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"Why don't I just show you?" Anders purred. 

Chapter Text

Fenris hated the Hanged Man. Well, he hated the smell that poisoned his senses as well as any of the piss that Corff served as drink. Anders hated the Hanged Man too, for the same reasons. Plus, quite a few Templars frequented the place, but they were rather put off by the glaring elf with a rather large greatsword beside the mage. Tonight, thankfully there were no Templars, as Fenris had been convinced to come unarmoured and unarmed; Anders was awfully convincing when he was on his knees with a cock in his mouth.

Anders swayed slightly as they stepped into the tavern, caught by Fenris's hand on his elbow.

"Mage?" Fenris asked quietly, concerned. 

"I'm fine, just.. I'm fine," Anders answered uncertainly. 

"Would you like to go home?" 

"No, it's Wicked Grace night, we should stay."

"If you're sure," Fenris said with a tight nod. 

Anders smiled gratefully and took hold of his hand, leading him up the stairs to Varric's suite. 

"Here are the lovebirds!" Isabela called, throwing out cards as she dealt. "You were very nearly late."

"Sorry," Anders smiled. 

"This isn't for any reason that would make it into the friend fiction, is it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. 

"Shut up, whore," Aveline grumbled beside her. "Leave them be."

"So," Hawke said, "last week I had a load of hunters running around Hightown spreading terror about a giant wolf on the coast. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Fenris?"

"If they kept their foolish hands to themselves, I wouldn't have had to attack them," Fenris grumbled with a low growl in his voice that only he and Anders could hear. 

The mage set a hand on his thigh and smiled. "Hush, love, it's okay now."

"Are we playing cards or what?" he sighed, though he did lace his fingers with Anders's. 

"I won't play this round," Anders said to Isabela as she started to deal two more hands. 

She hesitated with a frown. "Are you sure?" When Anders nodded, she said, "Alright then. I'll just win your boyfriend's coin instead."

Fenris watched Anders roll his eyes as the mage moved closer to him, resting his head on his shoulder to look at his hand. Fenris smiled slightly and put one arm around his mage as he rearranged the cards. 

"Aren't they cute?" Merrill cooed happily to Varric beside her. 

Varric chuckled. "Don't piss off the elf, Daisy."

"Varric!" Isabela gasped dramatically, holding a hand against her generous bosom. "How dare you use such words around mine and Hawke's child?"

Merrill giggled as Varric chuckled and shook his head softly. Hawke leaned over to kiss Isabela's cheek with a grin. Fenris rolled his eyes at them as Aveline punched Hawke's arm and told her not to encourage them. 

"Are you okay?" Fenris whispered to Anders, kissing his hair. 

"Hm? Yeah, I'm alright."

"You would tell me if you weren't?"

"Of course," Anders said, his sweet smile making an appearance. That little happy smile never failed in making Fenris's heart melt. 

"Is your back hurting again?" Fenris asked quietly as he took in the hunched way Anders was sitting. 

The mage just shrugged. "I'll live."

Fenris didn't answer but decided that he would give Anders another massage tonight. Anders had been experiencing back ache for the past few weeks and very little seemed to help. They both put it down to long hours at the clinic, so Fenris forced Anders to endure a massage whenever he could. Well, 'forced' wasn't exactly the right word for it, seeing as Anders would always end up moaning and rutting his hard cock against the sheets underneath him. 

The first game of Wicked Grace passed quickly, with Isabela taking all of the coins placed on the table with a vicious cackle. Anders didn't join in for the second game which Fenris won, but it was when he refused to play the third that Isabela complained. 

"Please, Anders," she pouted. "You can't help Fenris all night."

"I'm not helping him," Anders said with a tired grin. 

"Fine then, you can't give him a handjob under the table all night," she said. 

Anders squawked indignantly and sat up straight with a wince at the pressure it put on his spine. "I am not! I do have some dignity, thank you, Bela."

"That's alright, I once fingered Hawke on this very bench," she shrugged with a grin. 

Hawke giggled beside her, already drunk from the wine that Norah kept bringing, her hand going underneath the table as she leaned against Isabela. Isabela simply snorted in amusement and removed Hawke's hand, kissing the back of it. 

"Not now, sweet thing," she purred with a smirk. 

Anders huffed and grumbled, "I need a piss." 

Fenris removed his arm from around Anders to allow the mage to stand. He'd barely even turned back to his cards before Anders was falling. With a flash of lyrium, Fenris had stood and caught Anders before the others could even react. 

"Woah, Blondie, you okay? You need a drink? What's wrong?" Voices were thrown all across the room as Fenris knelt down to allow Anders to sit on the floor; the bench would leave too far to fall if he fainted again. 

"Mage," Fenris said curtly, relaxing slightly when Anders's dazed eyes focused on him. "What happened?"

"I... I'm fine, just... dizzy," he finished lamely, though his hand was still gripping Fenris's arm tightly, his nails digging in. "I just lost my balance for a moment, I'll be alright."

"Like fuck, you will, Blondie. I'd recommend that you see a healer, but you're the healer," Varric said, though the joke was lost in the concern in his tone. 

"And the healer says that I'll be fine," Anders said grumpily. "Help me up."

When Fenris hesitated, Anders growled at him with a dark glare. Fenris couldn't help his soft whimper of capitulation and wrapped an arm around Anders to help him stand. They were on their knees when Anders gasped suddenly and doubled over, a hand flying out to the floorboards to stop himself from falling again. 

"Anders?" Fenris asked, unable to stop the growing fear from creeping into his voice. 

When Anders looked up, his eyes were wide and his fingers were beginning to shake. 

"We need to go to the clinic right now," he demanded, the waver in his voice more concerning that anything else. 

Without arguing further, Fenris scooped up Anders into his arms and carried him towards the door. When the others moved to follow, Anders pointed at them. 

"Stay there," he ordered. "This is... private."

Fenris frowned slightly but didn't argue as he carried the mage swiftly down the stairs and out of the tavern. They probably looked ridiculous, considering just how tall Anders was, but Fenris didn't even think about that, too focused on getting Anders to his clinic. 

He didn't remember the walk to Darktown, didn't remember setting Anders on his feet for him to unlock the door, but here they were, inside the clinic while Anders muttered to himself in the storeroom, grabbing different herbs and tools, setting them down on a desk. Fenris stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching Anders carefully for any signs that he was going to fall. 

"Mage, are you going to tell me what's going on?" he eventually demanded.

"J-Just give a minute," Anders murmured, busying grinding leaves of herbs into a powder and tipping them into a beaker. 

Once there was a small mountain of herbs inside the glassware, Anders added a few drops of lyrium, stirring the mess with a glass rod. The stuff looked horrible, and Fenris found himself wondering whether he wanted to know Anders's plans for the stuff. He added a few drops of water from the nearby bucket, pulled from the well only a few hours previously. He mixed it again, until the lyrium and the herbs had all disappeared into the water, leaving the liquid a murky blue. 

Anders rushed back over, sitting down on a nearby cot and pointed opposite him impatiently when Fenris remained where he was. He sat down opposite the mage and crossed his legs, jumping in surprise when the beaker was shoved into his hands. His nose scrunched up in disgust at the awful smell coming from the thing. Fenris watched as Anders pushed his sleeves up and reached for the knife on his belt.

"Wait, what are you doing? Anders, why do you have a knife?" Fenris asked quickly, reaching out with one hand to stop him. 

Anders only shook his head and forced his outstretched hand back to the beaker so he could hold it still. Anders pressed the point of his dagger into his fingertip with a wince. Fenris opened his mouth but shut it again when Anders squeezed his finger over the beaker, a few drops of blood falling into the beaker. 

Fenris was briefly reminded of the times that Danarius forced him to help with a blood ritual. 

He shook the thought from his head and watched Anders take the beaker from him, healing his finger easily. He stirred the mixture with the rod again and stared at it for a few moments. Fenris glanced between the jar and the mage, halfway convinced that he'd gone insane. Just as he was about to take the beaker away and suggest that Anders got some rest, the liquid turned a shocking red. Anders let out a sudden sob and put the jar on the floor before crawling into Fenris's lap. 

Fenris had stiffened in surprise at Anders's sudden outburst and was unsure what to do about the kisses that were being pressed to his face and neck. Eventually, he grabbed Anders's arm and pushed him back so he could see his face. Anders was crying. There were heavy tears rolling down his cheeks, even as he grinned through his soft sobs. 

"Anders, why are you crying, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect," he grinned widely, wrapping Fenris's hair around his fingers and pulling him close for a kiss. 

Fenris couldn't help returning the kiss, moving his lips against Anders's for a few moments before he pulled back and shook him slightly. 

"Mage!"

"We're having a baby!" Anders laughed, still grinning. "I'm pregnant, we're having a cub... Fenris..."

Fenris blinked in surprise, now fully convinced that Anders had lost it. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. 

"Anders, we... We can't, you know that. I think you need to rest; you've had a long week, and--"

"No, Fenris, I'm not lying, I'm pregnant. I-I don't know how, but it doesn't go that colour unless you're pregnant. We're having a cub."

"We... You're... Are you sure?" Fenris asked, not wanting to get his hopes up.

When Anders nodded vigorously, Fenris kissed Anders passionately, hard enough for their lips to bruise and swell. His hands went to the clasps and buttons of Anders's robes, tugging until they were loose and he could push them to the floor. His eyes swept over Anders's bare form, focusing on the soft swell of his belly. It was tiny, hardly noticeable, but there. He'd thought it was just Anders putting on weight because of regular access to food, but if... If Anders was right, it wasn't contentment, but a child that was pushing out Anders's stomach ever so slightly. 

Fenris leaned down and pressed his ear to the bump, focusing on anything he could hear. All he could hear was Anders's quickened breathing and the sound of Anders trailing his fingers through white hair and-- He gasped when he felt something against his cheek and pulled back in surprise. 

"She doesn't like her daddy being nosey," Anders laughed. 

"'She'?" Fenris asked, breathless with shock. 

"Maker, I hope so."

"That's what you felt at the Hanged Man?" When Anders nodded, Fenris grinned and kissed the bump, laughing when she kicked again. "Maker... Anders, I..."

"Are you happy?" the mage asked. 

"Ridiculously so, mage. Can we still...?" Fenris started, blushing slightly when he couldn't finish the sentence. 

Thankfully, Anders understood his meaning. "Definitely. Oh, Maker, I need you..."

Fenris moved further down to Anders's cock and kissed at it gently, flicking his tongue along the sensitive spots. Anders gasped and his cock soon began to take interest in what was happening. Fenris looked up at him as he took the tip into his mouth. Anders moaned softly and arched into his mouth. Holding his hand up, Fenris hummed in thanks when his palm was filled with grease. He eased two fingers inside the mage, scissoring them slowly so he could add a third after a few moments. As always, he was glad that Anders stayed open for hours after their couplings. 

It was only another minute before Anders was begging with whispers and grabs and moans for Fenris to push inside of him. 

"On your side," he ordered, just undoing the laces of his leggings.

Anders scrabbled to get into position, holding tightly to the wooden frame of the cot as Fenris settled behind him, slicking his cock with the remaining grease from the spell. He positioned himself and sank in slowly, growling softly at Anders's throaty groan, nipping at his skin when he threw his head against his shoulder. Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders to hold him close, one hand settling on his belly and the other playing with his nipple. His mate whined and bucked when his nipples were tugged. He chuckled and released them, not wanting this to be over too soon. 

Moving slowly, Fenris squeezed his eyes shut as he rocked into Anders slowly, burying his face in his neck and breathing deeply. It was only a few minutes before he was close, with Anders's whimpering and moaning pushing him ever closer. 

"Please, Fenris, I--"

"Come for me, amatus," he growled. 

"Fenris!" Anders shouted as he came, biting down on the pillow to muffle his groan, as if it wasn't already obvious what they were doing. 

The thrumming of Anders's hole and the fluttering of his muscles was too much and it pushed Fenris over the edge, his hips jerking sporadically with his release. As he panted and they came down from their high, Fenris mouthed at Anders's skin and stroked over his belly. 

"Didn't you need a piss?" Fenris asked, suddenly remembering. 

Anders whined and buried his face in the pillow. "Now I need to go."

Fenris just laughed and turned Anders's face to look at him. He kissed him softly before pushing him lightly towards the chamberpot. Anders huffed and went. Fenris gathered their things and went to Anders's room at the back of the clinic, undressing fully and climbing into the bed, whimpering happily when Anders joined him. 

For the first time, it occurred to him just how happy he was and he smiled, nuzzling closer to his mate. Danarius wouldn't rip this from him, even if it killed him.