Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Blackpowder Dominance	By : TropicalFool Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dragon Age & all characters are owned by BioWare & EA, not me. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
As he removed the wards guarding the doors of the clinic, Anders realized how exhausted he was. Not only exhausted, but heartsick. He wanted more, felt that he must have more, and knew that what he needed would be denied. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to continue the evening discussions with the Arishok. A part of him longed to be there, to just be in the Qunari's presence, but another knew that it would be a torment worse that anything done to his body last night.
As he slipped through the door, glad that no one had been waiting for his services, a shadow followed. He heard the slight movement, too furtive to be a patient, and thought: Templar? Thief? Assassin? It is all the same. He simply did not have the will to care, let alone fight.
He turned wearily, then bellowed, "YOU! Of all people I expected to see here, you would be the last. Did you come to mock or to receive the vengeance due you?"
Fenris leaned casually against the doorframe, smirking. He was quiet for some time, enjoying watching Anders stew, then said, "I was not sure you would be back, ever, but it seemed worth a vigil in case. I wanted to see how you looked after your ordeal. I see that you survived."
Anders could feel his hands at his sides, opening and closing in fists, and his breathing became rapid and deep. He searched for Justice within him, but found only a cold wall. It seemed that the spirit was unwilling to aid in this dispute. His hatred evident in every word, the said slowly, "You planned everything, didn't you? You knew exactly what you were doing. You would have sold me as a slave to the Qunari for your own pleasure." He thought of asking why, but that he knew the answer and knew that it was his own behavior that had stoked the elf's wrath against all mages to the point of revenge on a particular mage.
Fenris stretched his neck and tipped his head to the side, considering, then said, "Yes."
Enraged further, Anders stalked the clinic, knocking over tables and kicking walls. He whirled when he was some distance away and snarled, "I should kill you now. Just rid the world of you. It would be an act of kindness to those left to have you gone."
The elf smiled, still relaxed, and said, "You could try. It would be an interesting duel. I am not sure myself who would prevail, but you would not be unscathed, that I know. But consider, you now have the gaatlok…" Ander stopped dead and goggled at his adversary. "…ah yes, I know what you wanted, why you wanted to learn about the Qunari. It was not to play games with the Arishok, or at least not only for that. Really, whatever you may think of me, that stupid I am not.
"Tell me, are you going to get Hawke to help you find the drakestone?"
Again the mage was taken up short. He stammered, "You know. You know the recipe. You could have given it to me at any time."
Fenris nodded casually. "Yes. I know. All of the ingredients, all of the proportions. How it is best used for various purposes. And I have a very good idea of the sort of uses you would put it to. You should know, however, that I have made a very specific and very revealing document and entrusted it to someone who will only open it on my death. It goes into great detail about your crimes and potential crimes, including that you own the means to cause great destruction. I suggest that not only do you give up any plans you may be harboring to kill me now, but that you also take very good care of me in battle. It would be a shame if I died by misadventure. Well, a shame for you, but a great boon for the Templars and the Chantry. I am sure that Meredith would be thrilled."
Feeling as he did last night when his bindings were released, Anders dropped straight to the floor, his head in his hands, and began rocking. He struggled for control, but low moans issued from his mouth. Fenris closed and bolted the door, then strolled to where the liquor was kept and poured himself a large glass of the mage's best cognac, then sat down to wait.
He had refilled his glass before Anders crawled painfully to his feet. The mage staggered to the sideboard, grabbing the bottle and upending it over his mouth. His adam's apple moved up and down three times before he lowered the decanter, happy to feel the fiery liquid burn through him. He fell into a chair facing the elf, his face haggard. He seemed to have aged many years in the last few minutes, the lines between his brows deeper, his jaw less firm, his eyes mournful.
Hopelessly, he asked, "What do you want."
Leaning on his arms so looked more closely into Anders' eyes, Fenris said, "What I have always wanted. What you could have freely given. The only thing that I want from you. But now I shall have it, whenever I want, an on my terms.
"I shall have no more distasteful sucking and licking, no more of your taunting, and no more playing teacher to your deceitful self. But I shall have your touch, exactly as I specify. And if you do not perform as I require, I shall have your regrets. Do you understand me?"
Anders nodded, only to be chided, "Speak! You will answer me properly."
Taking a deep breath, the mage said, "Yes, I understand," thinking that he had escaped one slavery only to fall into another much less to his liking. True he would still be able to maintain his clinic, perhaps even carry out some of his plans, or at least he hoped so, but life with the Qunari was suddenly looking like a very attractive option. Ah, but his options were gone. He had been sold as surely as any Tevinter elf.
Fenris sat quietly, enjoying the brandy and starting into space. When he had finished his glass, he carefully sat it down and said, "Up. Remove your clothes. I will not touch you, but I would have you know that and be naked before me."
Anders looked at him, thinking of the pattern on every part of his body, and said, "No."
"Very well," the elf replied, standing and walking toward the door.
He had not taken three steps when the shout came, as he knew it would. "Stop!" Anders cried, the tone between command and entreaty. Fenris turned slowly and looked down at the mage, one eyebrow raised.
"You know you have me," Anders all but whimpered.
"Yes. Yes, I 'have you' as you say. I am only surprised that you would balk at so small a thing. It is not as if there is anything I have not seen… or is there?"
Anders winced, pulling off one of his new gloves and holding up the hand, turning it for the elf to see. Fenris almost fell down he was laughing so hard. When he could speak, he asked, "Your whole body?" Anders nodded. "Everywhere?" Another nodded. This set the elf to another, louder, bout of laughter. Struggling to talk, he said, "Oh yes, this I must see. Disrobe. Slowly please, I would, humm, enjoy this for as long as possible."
Anders wished that his spells could be self directed—immolation was sounding very good at the moment. Justice was still in hiding and he could think of no way to postpone, so he stood and removed the other glove, throwing it on the floor.
He sat and pulled off the heavy boots then let his head hang between his legs for a moment. He would have sat that way longer, but Fenris cleared his throat in aggravation, so he stood barefoot and worked the clasp of his robe. The elf had seated himself with another glass of brandy. He held up a hand, saying, "Get me something to eat. The best of whatever you have, but be quick about it."
There was some fine cheese, imported from Orlais, that he'd been saving and bread only a day old. Some honey and a last bit of elderberry jam that had been a gift from a patient. And, he hated to think of it, but Fenris knew it was there and he needed whatever good will he could get from the elf, his secret store of chocolate. It was a small and private sin, the only thing that he really spent money on for himself and himself alone. Now it would be offered to Fenris as a sacrifice.
The elf smiled when the meal was presented, and Anders allowed himself a tiny sigh. "Continue," Fenris demanded.
The robe came open across the mage's broad chest, revealing the extent of the markings. Despite himself, Fenris stood to touch the broad areas of red. "They are real," he said with some awe. "I thought he had only dyed you. But these, they are the result of culm-thest. And you endured this?"
"Apparently," Anders returned. "You see them before you."
Looking pensive, the elf mused, "The Arishok likes you more than I thought. I knew that he would not accept Darthas-Dun from you, even if it is supposedly not to be denied, but he is Arishok and has leeway, but to engage in Darthas-Dus. This is the result of Darthas-Dus, is it not?"
"Yes, Darthas-Dus," Anders replied.
Fenris looked at him steadily, then said, "That gaatlok means a great deal to you."
Anders said nothing, but let his hand move to the buckle of his belt. He dropped the heavy strip of leather to the floor and shrugged out of the robe, thinking, to hell with the elf and his striptease. He stood naked and listless, awaiting the next command.
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Blackpowder Dominance