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“You really had me scared, Zev!” Samael shouted, gripping the sword hilt so hard it shook in his hands, “I thought for sure you were dead!” His voice cracked, on the verge of tears, but he kept his composure. He had to. Anger coursed through him and it was taking all he had not to unleash it on his husband. It wasn’t Zevran he was mad at. Not really.
Sighing, Zevran sat himself up and leaned against a tree. “Samael, please, don’t make such a big deal out of it,” He mumbled, coughing, “I lived, didn’t I?”
Samael grit his teeth and turned his back to Zevran, who was still on the ground, wounded. “You did,” He admitted, “But I got to you too late. For all I know you’re infected by the Blight or… or…”
“I don’t have the Taint, love,” Zevran sighed, “It’s been hours since you found me, yes? And have I shown any of the signs? Delirium? Fever? Sickness at all?”
“No.”
“Precisely. I’m fine.” Zevran assured, “I will heal. It will take time but I will.”
But that wasn’t the point. Although Zevran would heal this time- he there was no guarantee that he’d heal every time. The next blow could be the one that steals his husband from him forever. Samael couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t let it happen. That’s what he’d told himself. It was too close of a call... What if... Creators, I’ve let everyone important to me die...! If I was only more careful; more attentive! More cautious... I could’ve saved Tamlen... Before any of this began... He thought, eyes shutting tight as his hands balled in to fists.
Zevran frowned as he noticed Samael’s demeanor, and shook his head. “Come here love,” He beckoned, reaching a hand out to him, “Sit with me. I’ll feel better if you do.”
At the soft, silky tone of his husband’s voice, Samael found himself slipping out of his hardened rage. Giving in, he turned and went to sit against the tree with Zevran. “Better…?” He asked, snuggling up against him.
Smiling, Zevran nodded. “More than you can imagine, my love,” He hummed, then paused placing his finger under his chin and staring off pensively, “Although… there is one thing that would make me feel ever better than I do now…”
Samael quirked an eyebrow up. “And what would that be, vhenan?” He inquired.
“I’m thinking you in my lap, bouncing up and down on my hard cock while I watch that irresistible little face of yours make the cutest little expressions~!” Zevran explained with a syrupy voice and a smirk splattered across his face, “And hearing you moan out my name… Ah, that would be truly therapeutic~!”
Indignant, Samael lightly pushed against Zevran’s arm. “Be serious!” He exclaimed, but he smiled reluctantly despite himself. His husband always did have a way of making things lighter in a dark situation.
Zevran let out a laugh and kissed the Dalish Elf’s forehead lovingly. “What on Earth makes you think I’m not being serious~?” he teased.
“There’s no way you’re up for sex in your condition,” Samael huffed, “You’re in too much pain.”
“Mmm but when have I ever been turned off by pain, love?” Zevran asked, “The pain from my wounds would mix perfectly with the pleasure from your a-” He was cut short by Samael shoving his shoulder again.
Samael gave him a stern look. “You need rest not more excitement,” He said, “When I am convinced that you’re well enough- and only then- we can have sex. That good enough for you?”
Sighing, Zevran raised his hands in defeat. “You win, you win,” he conceded, “I just… wanted to take your mind off things. Make you feel better.”
“I… feel like kind of a jerk now,” Samael mumbled.
“It’s alright, love. You mean well,” Zevran hummed, wrapping his arms around him, “Tell you what; tomorrow, if I’m feeling up to walking, we’ll scout around for a healing mage. There’s bound to be a few Apostates running around- even if most are with the Inquisition now.”
The idea of going to an Apostate for help did make him feel a little better. He didn’t trust many of the Apostate Mages, but he’d known enough of them personally to know they weren’t all bad. He was, in fact, pleased that the Mages finally had the balls to stand up to the Templars rather than blindly submit. But on the other hand, he also knew that most of the ones that didn’t take the Inquisition as a safe ally were Possessed Abomination or Melficarum that used illicit, dangerous Blood Magic. “I’d prefer it if we could find a Dalish Keeper,” Samael admitted, “But seeing as were nowhere near any camps… It’ll work.”
“Well, I’m glad that’s all settled then,” Zevran said.
Dawn broke over the horizon, and Samael was already up and packing by the time Zevran awoke. “Nnn… Mm that’s quite a sight to wake up to,” He teased, seeing Samael bend down to pick up the pack.
“Only the best for you, vhenan,” Samael hummed absently, “Are you ready to get moving?”
“I think so yes,” Zevran replied, grunting as he maneuvered himself off the ground slowly. He winced and scrunched up his face in pain, gripping at his side. “Gah…” He held up a hand to his husband, who had started to come towards him. “No! No I’m fine…! I just… need a second.” He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Samael stared at him, frowning deeply in concern. “Zev, you’re not fine. We can stay here and-”
Zevran shook his head and cut him off. “No. We need to keep moving and find a healer. I can manage,” He insisted, straightening up, “You forget I used to be a Crow, love. I have been forced to keep going with pain and injuries much, much worse than this.”
Shaking his head, Samael put down his pack. “But that doesn’t mean you should,” He protested, “I would hate to think I’m treating you the same way that assassin’s league did. You’re past that. The Antivan Crows are behind you- we’ve been through this.”
“Samael, my love, I would never accuse you of treating me in any way similar to my former employers,” Zevran breathed, walking up to him and cupping his face in his hands, “I know the Crows aren’t part of who I am anymore. But I can’t unlearn what they taught me. I’m strong, Samael. I can do this.”
Whatever Zevran said, Samael still didn’t like the idea. But he knew he was right. “You’re right,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Of course you’re right.” He laughed softly. “I don’t know what’s gotten in to me lately.”
Zevran smiled warmly and kissed his forehead. “Worry not, love,” He assured, booping him on the nose- an act which was met with indignation from the Dalish elf. He laughed as Samael’s face turned violent shades of red. “Shall we get moving, then?”
“… Yes,” Samael grumbled, moving away from Zevran and snatching up the pack with a huff, “Which direction do you think we should head? It’d be difficult to try and back track all the way to Redcliffe… But other than that I’m not sure where we’d be able to find any mages,”
Crossing his arms, Zevran thought. “Well… I have heard rumors of a fugitive mage…”
“Zev, I’m not sure seeking out Anders is the best idea,” Samael cautioned, “He’s wanted by the rebel Mages, Templars, the Chantry, and probably anyone else with a hang man’s noose! Do we really want to open all of that on ourselves? Besides, he’s probably going to be too well hidden- if none of those people could find him, how could we?”
“But you knew him,” Zevran reminded, “You were friends!”
Samael shook his head. “That was years ago. I doubt he would honor whatever friendship the two of us had.”
Zevran shrugged, sighing, “It’s still the best lead I have. From what I gather, he’s probably holed up in a cave to the west.”
Anders… Perhaps seeking him out would be the best option. Samael was wary, however. While he was happier seeking out someone he knew… He’d heard the tales of what happened in Kirkwall- even read a stolen copy of Varric Tethras’ Tale of the Champion. No matter what iteration he read, they all agreed on one sole fact about his old friend. Anders had become an Abomination. Some said he was possessed by a Demon of Rage or Pride. Others say a warped Spirit of Valor. In Varric’s tale, however, it stated he was possessed a Spirit of Justice- the same Justice that Samael himself had known and befriended. He didn’t want to believe that. When he had known both Anders and Justice, both would have been utterly appalled at the idea. But people did change- and Justice may have accepted a willing host when his borrowed corpse of a body had rotted too much.
Whatever the truth, Samael decided to go against his gut and trust that Anders was merely the victim of a warped tale. Most would want to believe that no man in his own mind would blow up a Chantry. It may simply be that people projected their fear of Abominations on to Anders. It was entirely likely that Anders simply started the war because he knew it was the right thing to do- the only thing to do. Samael knew that if it were him in such a situation, he would have done the same. And he was certainly no Abomination! Anders might’ve done the same.
With a deep breath, Samael nodded to Zevran. “Very well,” He conceded, “We’ll go west…. And search for Anders,” And just hope he believes that we mean him no harm…
“Good. Ah, may I lean on you, though?” Zevran asked, “Or at least hold your hand…?”
Samael nodded and took a hold of the Antivan Elf’s hand. “And you’re sure that you’re up for this? We might not even find him.”
Zevran flashed a charming smile. “Quit doubting me so much, love,” He hummed, “I’m perfectly fine. Just milking my wounds as an excuse to have you closer.”
“Of course you are,” Samael snorted, rolling his eyes, “Well… let’s… hope for the best.” At that, the two men headed of in the direction of the caves, hoping and praying Anders would be inside one of them.
For hours, Samael and Zevran searched the Western Caves, scouring for any evidence that might suggest the presence of a nearby Apostate. But, the more they searched, the more hopeless it seemed. There was absolutely nothing. Samael grit his teeth. “This is pointless,” He grumbled, kicking a rock towards a nearby tree, “It’s already past mid-day and we’re no closer to finding a Healer than we were this morning.” He rubbed his forehead and hissed out a breath. We should’ve tried something else… maybe just headed to the nearest town and hoped they had someone with some medicinal skills…
Zevran leaned against the nearest tree and sighed, crossing his arms. He took a deep breath and scanned the immediate area carefully. “I know, love, I know…” He mumbled, “I still can’t shake the feeling that we’re close. I keep seeing… things that look like they could be traps to lead people astray or… something.”
“You’ve been saying that for the last two and a half hours,” Samael grumbled, kicking another rock, “Fenedhis! We should have-” He was cut short by the loud snap of a bear trap, just a few yards ahead of them. He exchanged a look with Zevran and went to investigate. A trap meant there was at least one person out here- or had been anyway. A sign of life. “Zev, can you see if there’re any more nearby?”
Nodding, Zevran moved to scout the area. He’d found a few more traps just beyond the one they’d accidentally triggered. Beyond that were a few other signs of recent encampment. Discarded glass flasks and potion bottles, abandoned bone with gristly meat still attached. “Well. Someone is in the vicinity.”
Samael frowned and listened intently. There was a snap and a crackle- magic. “Zevran get down!” he shouted, whirring around and throwing his shield up to block the attack.
The fireball splayed across the silverite, and Samael peered over the top. He blinked. “Anders.” He mumbled, “By the Creators.”
Anders, who’d been tense with attack readiness, relaxed at the sight of his old friend. But only slightly. “Warden Commander,” He greeted, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Well, I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you here either,” Samael admitted, “But I was hoping we’d bump in to you.”
There was a small moment of silent pause before Anders pried. “Why… were you looking for me?” He asked suspiciously.
Zevran smiled. “We’re not here to bring you to the Templars or Wardens if that’s what you’re thinking,” He assured, “You’re a healer are you not? I’d heard rumors that you might be around here and we figured you were our best chance. I’ve been badly wounded.”
Any doubt that the Mage might’ve had melted away and he completely relaxed. “Oh. Well… That changes things a lot,” He said, smiling, “Follow me- my cave’s nearby.” He quickly led them to a small cave, blocked off from view by a large boulder. Sitting Zevran down on a make-shift cot, he began to work his magic on the wounds. “So…” He began, looking over at Samael, “How have you been…? It’s been far too long since we last saw each other.”
“That it has,” Samael agreed, eyeing Anders skeptically. He could tell something was very different about the man, but couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It may simply be that time had changed him- it happens to the best of men. Still, he kept his guard up. Just in case. “I’ve been well in the last few years. It’s… been busy. Zevran and I keep on the run from both his Crows and the Wardens.”
“You’re running from the Wardens too?” Anders questioned, surprised.
Samael nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying to find a way to get rid of the Calling and for some reason the Wardens in Orlais are opposed to that. I’ve got no clue why their heads are up their asses but I know I won’t let myself fall to that fate.”
Anders stopped healing Zevran for a moment to face his former commander. “Have you had any luck?” He asked “We- I… have been searching for the exact same thing myself… I’ve had no luck myself…”
“Neither have I unfortunately. I’ll let you know if I ever do.” Samael promised.
Smiling softly, Anders returned to working on Zevran’s wound. “Thank you. I’ll do the same.” He hummed, “Almost done, mister- uh…. Oh I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Zevran Arainai,” Zevran hummed with a smirk.
“Ah, I should’ve guessed,” Anders said, “Samael used to talk about you a lot back in Amaranthine. I think I heard him crying out in the middle of the night for you once. It scarred Ser Pounce-a-lot. Poor kitty…”
Zevran smirked up at Samael. “Ohh you never told me about that~!” he teased.
Samael blushed fiercely, glaring at Anders. “You’re still a Warden, Anders. Just because we’re both on the run doesn’t mean I can’t reprimand you for saying things like that!” He grumbled.
“Sorry, sorry,” Anders conceded, smiling softly, “There we go. All done, Zevran. You should be better than new.”
Standing, Zevran tested out the places he’d been hurt and grinned. “Oh you did a splendid job, Anders!” he exclaimed, “Shall we be going now, love?”
Samael shook his head. “No. Not yet. I… would still like to know more about what Anders has been up to all these years. You and I have both heard the stories but…”
Anders stood, wiping his hands on his robes nervously. “Well… What would you like to know…?” He asked, cautious tones seeping through his words.
“How you came to be involved with the Champion of Kirkwall. What really happened there?” Is it true that you’re an abomination?
There was a brief moment of silence before the Mage spoke. “Well… I originally met Jamie because he needed a map in to the Deep Roads… Being a Gray Warden, I was able to help him out. I traveled with him for three years, falling in love with him more every time he’d drag me along with him. When he told me he felt the same I… We stayed together for three years. Then I blew up the Chantry, and he-”
“So it was you.” Zevran murmured.
Sighing, Anders nodded. “Yes. It was me all along. Surprise!” He joked, but not really feeling the lightheartedness, “So that’s the truth of it. Jamie and I have been running ever since then, helping Mages, trying to negate The Calling and seeing how we can get rid of Jus-…” his words trailed off, stopping himself before speaking.
Samael narrowed his eyes at the Mage in suspicion. “Get rid of… what exactly?”
Anders shook his head and smiled. “It’s nothing,” he lied, “Nothing worth bothering you with, anyway.”
Zevran moved closer to his husband, getting ready to reach for his daggers on a signal.
“I don’t-”
All three of them froze as voices came in to earshot. Hoping it was mere travelers or something of the like, they waited for them to grow quiet and distant. But the sounds just got louder and louder- the deep masculine tones formed clearer words with each passing moment. “I think I saw something over here.” One said, deep and gruff.
“Are you sure?” Came another, this one higher pitched and scratchy, “I’m pretty sure the lady mentioned he was further south than this.”
Gruff grunted. “No, you bone-head, her directions led us exactly here!” he assured.
Anders grit his teeth and hissed lowly, “Shit! I thought for sure I lost those Templar bastards two towns ago!”
Scratchy and Gruff’s voices grew ever near the entrance of the cave. Samael, Zevran, and Anders all drew their weapons as the Templar’s shadows neared the cave entrance. “Hey! Warren, he’s over here!” Scratchy called, “And he’s got friends with him!”
For a brief moment, Anders' body flashed bright blue. “No. No not now.” He pleaded, eyes flickering with fear, “Maker, please not now!”
As Gruff- Warren- joined Scratchy at the entrance, the two attacked. Zevran and Samael moved to fend them off, but Anders had already moved, exploding in to a blue light, glowing with Fade magic and destruction in mind.
“YOU WILL NOT TAKE HIM NOR ANY MAGE AGAIN!”
Gaping in complete awe, Samael stood paralyzed as he watched the Mage- no the Abomination completely annihilate the Templars without even bothering to bat an eye. There were very few times the elf could ever remember feeling fear so deep and real that it chilled him to the very core, churning his stomach to butter and making a gelatin of his legs. His lips went dry, throat closing as Anders finished with the men and turned to himself and Zevran. It was almost too much work to raise his shield and move to defend his husband.
Samael tore at his mind, willing himself to think straight. You’ve dealt with worse than this, Mahariel. You’ve taken down plenty of Abominations, Darkspawn, Undead, and Mages of all kinds. Not to mention the fucking Archdemon! He rationalized. He raised his shield and readied his stance. Alistair didn’t teach you the ways of the Templar for nothing. You can put this monster down like all the rest. The thing in front of you is no longer Anders.
“You! Are you one of them!?” The abomination roared,“You know their ways- I can sense it! But… No. You are familiar. How are you familiar?” It’s eyes narrowed slightly. “State your purpose- Friend or enemy?”
Gritting his teeth, Samael prepared for a lunge. “I am not a friend to any Demon!” he spat.
“I am no Demon! I am Justice!”
That statement struck Samael, letting him drop his guard for just a moment. “Justice...? No, no you cannot be the same Justice that I… It’s not possible.” He shook his head. “The spirit I knew would never have invaded a human host. Willing or not.” But then… Anders hadn’t been the kind of Mage who would’ve accepted a Demon or Spirit… Humans change, but not spirits. Right?“… You aren’t the same Justice who traveled with the Gray Wardens for a time several years ago? In the decaying body of Kristoff…?”
Silence followed those words. Without any warning, the blue light surrounding Anders and filling his eyes flickered and vanished. The Mage fell to the ground, shaking. “Oh… Oh Maker, Commander I… I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
Samael’s eyed narrowed, pointing his sword at Anders. “I want an explanation. Now.”
Anders took a few heavy breaths before nodding and sitting upright. “Alright. Alright… I suppose I do owe you that much.” He admitted, looking up at The Warden and his blade. “Justice couldn’t stay in Kristoff’s body. It wouldn’t have been right. But… he didn’t want to die. I offered to let him in to me. I thought that maybe things would be fine-”
Humphing, Samael cut in, “Since when has anything been fine regarding possession!?”
“I… I know. It was incredibly stupid, but I was young and naïve and… I really thought that it might be different if he possessed someone he knew and trusted; a friend.” Anders relayed, “But, obviously, I was wrong. The anger in me warped him. Changed him from his true purpose. I’m... not even really sure if there’s a ‘me’ and a ‘him’ anymore if it’s just… ‘us’.” Shaking his head, he continued. “Jamie tells me that there’s a difference, but I don’t know.”
Zevran sighed and shook his head. “Well, I can tell the difference.” He said, “Perhaps it is not as dire as you think. I can’t recall anyone ever being possessed by a Spirit instead of a Demon before. They are inherently different entities, from what I understand. It could be that Anders isn’t an Abomination. Exactly.”
Samael shook his head. “I disagree. What I saw killing those Templars was definitely something very like an Abomination. Certainly it was that thing that blew up the Chantry as well.” His eyes glared down at the man he once called friend with nothing but utter disgust emanating from dark black irises.
“Abomination or not, it doesn’t matter.” Anders sighed, “What matters is that the Mages are free now because of my actions. That was the only motivation.” He paused. “I thought you of all people would understand that. The ends justifying the means.”
It was true- Samael did sympathize with that. “… You’re still an Abomination.”
“So?” Anders countered.
“You’re dangerous! You nearly attacked me!” Samael shouted, angrily.
Anders looked down. “I know.” He sighed, rubbing his head, “Just… Don’t kill me.”
Samael’s tone sank deep in to his throat. “Give me one good reason why I should even bother to consider letting you live?”
“… It would break Jamie’s heart.” Anders muttered, “I don’t really care what happens to me. But if it hurts my love then I will fight with everything in my soul to keep him from harm.”
Zevran laughed lightly. “Ah, such a romantic. How can you possibly argue with a pretty man like that, begging on his knees?” he asked.
“Tch...” Samael grumbled, sheathing his sword, “Fine. How does Hawke even put up with you?”
A small laugh bubbled from Anders’ throat. “I don’t know. He’d say he doesn’t put up with me,” He mumbled, smiling gently, “It’s part of why I love him so much. I’m glad he can see me as something better that who I am. He sees me as the man I want to be.” Sighing, he shook his head. “He thinks that Justice and I can be separated somehow… It’s… another thing we’ve been looking for in our time running.”
“Hm. A way to separate Abominations that doesn’t involve killing. Interesting.” Samael said, looking to Zevran, then back at Anders. He dug in to his pouch and handed five Royals to the Mage. “Here. For your Healing.”
Anders stood and took the coin. “Thank you, Commander,” he hummed, “I suppose this is where we part?”
“Yes. Fare well, Anders.” Samael said, his tone bland.
“Good bye~” Zevran hummed, heading out of the cave with Samael.
The two elves headed north east from the cave, and making camp several miles from there when night finally fell. Once the two of them had changed out of their gear, Samael sat at the fireside, boardly knowing on some jerky. He watched as Zevran set up the tent and lay a few traps around the perimeter just to be safe, eyes following him carefully.
Zevran joined him and wrapped his arm around the Dalish elf’s shoulders comfortingly. “Well, that was an eventful day no?” he hummed, leaning over and kissing his cheek.
“Mm.” Samael grunted, leaning his head on Zevran’s shoulder. “I keep thinking…”
“About?” Zevran prompted.
“… Should I have killed Anders? I don’t feel right just letting him live like that.” Samael sighed, “I know he seems to have some control and… Ugh.”
“Try not to worry about it too much, love.” He hummed, “Ahh, you’re too worked up! Let’s get your mind off of it with some rigorous sex in the woods, mm~?” Zevran grinned broadly. “I’ll make sure the only thing on your mind is me~”
Samael sighed and grunted. “Fenedhis, yes, Zev.” He agreed, laying back on the ground and pulling Zevran on top of him.
Zevran smirked and tutted softly. “Now, now you know this is not how it works~” He chimed, “Hands and knees, love, or I’m afraid I will have to retract my offer.”
“I know, I know,” Samael hummed, quickly changing his position for Zevran.
“Mmm, good boy,” Zevran cooed, leaning over and kissing his neck softly, “Ah, are you ready for me to completely ravish you, Samael~? I’ll make it feel so good you won’t even remember your own name~” He nibbled at his ear from behind, gripping one of his ass cheeks hard from behind, “But I need to know you want it first. I need you to beg~”
A moan called out from Samael’s lips as he gripped the grass beneath his hands. “I do need it, Zev…!” He called, “I need you so much~!”
“Good,” Zevran grunted, stripping them both as quickly as he could.
The sex Samael had with Zevran was always good for a distraction. The Ativan was very skilled, after all, and versatile for that matter. This was just what he needed. Some rough domination that would take all the worry from the warrior’s shoulders. And, Creators, it was fantastic.