Chapter Text
The sound was both infuriating and yet somehow calming all at the same time. Anders couldn't describe just how that made sense, but it just did. He wished it would stop, yet at the same time, he was glad for it. Natural and beautiful, yet annoyingly loud.
That was how the rain always sounded in Darktown. Though this part of the city was always damp and wet, even when it wasn't raining, so it made little difference in the long scheme of things when it came to the sound of dripping water.
The day had been a slow one. To stay it had dragged on longer than he liked, would have been an understatement. His patients had come and gone as swiftly as the rats scurrying on the floor. There really had been a fair few people, but most of their illness' had been easily treatable. This left Anders with far fewer people to take care of as the day went on. In fact, he hadn't had another person come into the clinic for at least half an hour. Though it felt like much longer, it was hard to tell down in the darker streets of the city; if you could call them streets at all.
Drip.
Another drop of rainwater fell from the concrete roof above and landed down Anders neck, causing him to give an irritated cry of distress as he tried to worm his hand down the back of his neck to try and dry, and of course, warm it back up again.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” Came a familiar, cold voice from the doorway of the clinic, though Anders couldn't quite see who it was for the moment as he had his back turned and his hand still half way down his robes. He had to admit, he probably did look a little silly.
“This is foolish. I can take care of my own wounds, I do not need that mage to heal them.” Another familiar voice joined in with the first.
“Ah, Fenris... good to see or hear you, too,” Anders said, rolling his eyes upwards. He turned around and stopped fidgeting with the back of his neck, finally feeling content again without the coldness of the water upon it. “And Hawke... always a pleasure...” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, though the woman called Hawke could likely tell he was forcing it.
There was an awkward silence between the three of them for a moment or two before Hawke sighed and finally helped Fenris further into the clinic. She brushed her raven-black hair out of her eyes and supported her elf companion onto one of the cots.
Anders could see that the snow-white haired elf had injured his leg, it was hard to miss the arrow sticking out of it. It would be an easy fix, really.
“I'll see you later, Fenris,” Hawke said as she gave Anders a wry look for a moment. “Sebastian wants my help with something, so I'll leave you to... his care.”
Anders winced as the female used that tone when she addressed him. They weren't exactly the best of friends, but she seemed to trust him enough with his healing spells. Anders put it down to the fact that Hawke's sister was also a mage, and thus Hawke wasn't as hateful towards mages as some people could be. Still, the woman was pro-Templar and to Anders, this wasn't a good thing.
Though he admired her loyalty to not turn him into the Templar's, even if she disliked him being an apostate. He felt she was a hypocrite, but they all were, to some extent or other.
Anders watched as Fenris gave a nod of his head to the woman, though he seemed less than pleased with being left alone with Anders. The mage wondered why Fenris was even agreeing to it in the first place. The elf hated Anders a great deal more than even Hawke did.
“So...” Anders began as Hawke vanished out of the clinic, leaving Fenris and himself alone, “shall we take a look at your leg?” The arrow looked like it had wedged itself pretty deeply into the elven man's leg. How he had managed to get all the way down into Darktown and the clinic while walking on it, Anders could not imagine. He had to admit it was impressive, a lesser person would have passed out from pain.
'Then again, that is just like Fenris.' Anders thought to himself, shaking his head as a slight smirk spread over his face.
Fenris didn't appear as amused as Anders did, “what is so amusing, mage?” The elf snapped, giving the other man a sharp glare.
Shaking his head, Anders knelt down in front of the elf and glanced up at Fenris, “is everything I do a problem, Fenris?” He asked, light brown eyes showing his annoyance, though he kept his tone soft. He was a little irked that the elf always hated everything he would do, just because he was a mage, but at the same time he had come to care about the broody elf to some extent.
Fenris snorted, turned his head aside and folded his arms, “you are a mage,” he said simply as if this alone was enough of a reason. Though after a moment, he relaxed a little and glanced back to Anders; who was of course even more irritated now than before. Fenris sighed, almost irritably as if he was the one who had been insulted, though he did offer a quiet, “though I do appreciate your aid with my wounds. I suppose.”
“You 'suppose'? Well, doesn't that make me feel all better.” Anders said, sarcastically. He took hold of the arrow and gave it a quick tug, pulling it free from the elf's leg. An act of defiance at the elf's insufferable attitude.
Fenris gave a pained growl, though before he could say or do anything to Anders; the mage had already put a hand over the wound and was in the process of healing the wound with his magic. “Sorry about that,” he said, almost smugly, “it'll heal up fine, and you should be able to walk on it again after a long rest.”
“You did that on purpose!” Fenris scowled, with anger.
Anders tried to hold back a chuckle, “of course, I had to pull it out otherwise your leg will rot with that thing in there.” He explained, his hands made a rather dramatic motion as he shrugged a little, “besides if I went slow, it would have hurt you more.”
Fenris huffed and looked away from the mage again, his face turning slightly pink in colour. He had to admit, Anders might have a point. However, his pride would never allow him to say so openly.
“Well then,” Anders began as he turned around, his back facing Fenris, “once you're rested you should be able to walk on it without too much trouble, but you'll want to take it easy for a while. In other words, no fighting, or exercise until I say so. Understand? I want you to stay in the clinic for now too, so I can keep an eye on it.”
Another huff came from Fenris. A sound of disapproval escaped the elven man's lips at the very notion.
“Or, you could limp your way back to that mansion you're squatting in, I suppose.” Anders continued, knowing full well what Fenris was thinking. It wasn't as though the two had known each other for too long, but Anders knew Fenris enough to know when he would rather suffer being in pain than to sit quietly in Anders company. Even for a moment.
It had been at least three years since the Deep road's adventure, which was long enough for the two to understand one another, even if it was only a little.
Giving Anders a dubious look, Fenris stood slowly, the pain shot through his leg which caused him to wince. Though he refused to cry out in pain. Even though the mage had been thorough with his spell, he had been right about not walking on it. Magic could heal most wounds, but that didn't mean it could take away the pain, or heal especially bad wounds fully. Time was still needed for wounds to properly heal up.
Anders gave a sigh as he watched Fenris force himself to take a couple of steps forward, limping.
When Fenris almost fell over, Anders rushed over to his side and just managed to catch the elf, offering his arm and shoulder for the other to lean upon.
“I do not need your aid, mage,” Fenris, snapped, his cold eyes glared at Anders.
“You keep saying that, yet who was it that helped you just now?” Anders retorted, rolling his eyes upwards, “hate me all you like, but if you're not going to rest on a cot here, then you will need help getting home, and since there is no one else here right now, that means you are stuck with me. Like it or not, I am going to help you.” He said sharply.
Fenris seemed to give in, though not without a grumble of complaint. Anders knew the elf was less than pleased to have Anders help him even more so than he already had, but there really was little choice in the matter.
“Fine...” the elf said, reluctantly, “help me if you must.”