The prince's first response was concern. "Are you not feeling well?" he asked, sitting himself gingerly upon the bed next to Anders and pressing his hand gently against the mage's forehead. "If you are ill, if you need a healer -"

"That's not it," Anders interrupted gently, before Sebastian got ahead of himself. "I just... I suppose I'm just not in the mood this morning."

Sebastian blinked, unsure how to respond. Anders braced himself for - he wasn't sure. Anger? Suspicion? Punishment? Whatever he was expecting, Sebastian's reaction surprised him.

He smiled down at Anders, hand still caressing the mage's forehead, and said, "Alright."

The prince pulled away and began removing his heavy dress clothes, and Anders had a moment of panic. But Sebastian left his tunic and pants on, and after placing his clothes neatly at the foot of the bed, he climbed under the sheets next to Anders and wrapped his arms around the mage.

Anders flinched when Sebastian touched him, and the prince pulled away at once. "Is this alright?" he asked, concerned. "I wished to spend my morning with you. But if you are not comfortable with this either, I will leave you."

Anders didn't know what to say, what to think, at the sincere sound of hurt in Sebastian's voice. Or at how he felt nothing for Sebastian's disappointment. All he could think of was the way Fenris had held him close, in this bed, only hours ago.

"No," he said quickly, as Sebastian moved to stand. "This is fine. It's... fine. Stay, please."

The prince hesitated for a moment, then settled back against Anders, tightening his arm around the mage's middle. Anders forced himself to relax against Sebastian's chest.

The prince settled his face into the crook of Anders' neck and breathed deeply. He hummed against the mage's skin. "How long has it been since we were together like this, hm? Relaxed, enjoying our company, no rush."

"A while," Anders sighed.

"Quite a while," Sebastian murmured in agreement. "I hope you have not suspected that my affections have dwindled?" The amusement in his voice made Anders' jaw tighten.

"Of course not, I know you are a busy man," he replied, and could not hide the discontent in his voice.

"Is something the matter, love?" the prince asked, pulling away to look down at the man in his arms.

Anders shrugged. "I'm just feeling," he trailed off, searching for the right word. "Restless."

"Restless?" Sebastian repeated.

"Yes. I feel trapped, stuck in this tower." The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Perhaps if I were able to leave the castle, possibly visit the market or -"

Sebastian stiffened behind him. "We have been over this before, dearest. Many times."

"Yes, I know," Anders began desperately. "But perhaps just a stroll across the grounds -"

"The templars entrusted you to my care on the conditions you do not practice magic, and that you do not leave this castle."

"But the gardens are technically part of -"

"This is the end of this discussion." The prince's words were crisp and sharp, punctuated by his rise from the bed. "You are forbidden from leaving this tower except to accompany me. That is the final word on the matter."

Sebastian dressed himself in silence, and Anders knew better than to speak again. The prince left without another word, and Anders was alone with his thoughts and his misery.

Fenris' arrival that evening was a Maker-sent relief.

Anders was waiting in the hallway at the changing of shifts, and shot Fenris a sincere smile when the other guard was safely down the stairs. Fenris returned his grin and took a few steps forward, reaching out to -

Footsteps on the stairs - coming closer - caused Fenris to practically leap backwards. He was a safe distance from Anders when the head servant - Rory, Anders thought his name was - appeared at the top of the stairs, but the guilty look on his face gave him away.

"Guard! What are you doing with the prince's consort? All contact is forbidden!" Rory fumed, marching down the hall.

"I -" Fenris began, grasping for a response. The servant stomped to a halt a few feet from the guard, face contorted with disapproval.

"It was my fault, serah," Anders spoke up. "I was pestering the good guardsman. I do get rather bored up here, and taunting the guards is my only form of entertainment."

The servant huffed in Anders' direction, then turned back to Fenris. "The prince wishes to dine with him tonight. He shall be arriving at once. See to it that you are not caught fraternizing with him again."

The man stormed off, muttering under his breath, and Fenris frowned at Anders. The mage mouthed an apology, then retreated into his chambers to prepare for Sebastian's arrival. He washed his face with water, combed his hair back neatly, and changed into finer dining clothes.

Anders emerged again just in time for Sebastian's arrival. The prince was all smiles and warm greetings, a pleasant change from the coldness with which he left that morning. Anders returned the prince's warmth, eager to return to Sebastian's favor. Sebastian held out his arm, gesturing towards the dining room. Anders bowed politely, and strode through the doorway. Sebastian entered a moment later, signaling for Fenris and his personal guard to follow.

If Fenris had not been so singularly focused on Anders, he might have noticed the hard look Sebastian gave him as he followed Anders into the room. What Fenris did notice was the way Anders' eyes flitted over his body with a mischievous glint each time the prince looked away.

The meal progressed slowly - for Anders, at least. The prince had soon bored him with his usual talk of Starkhaven business that Anders cared nothing for, and the elf across the room kept catching his attention. Anders tried desperately - and failed miserably - to keep his attention focused on the prince next to him, but the fading sunlight through the windows was hitting the elf's hair in such a way that there seemed to be an ethereal glow around him, framing his perfect features and his tanned skin. Anders licked his lips unconsciously, and tried to play it off as thirst when he noticed Sebastian looking at him, reaching quickly for his goblet and taking a long swig of water. He placed his cup down with a smile at the prince, and tried to ignore the sudden warmth in his belly.

"I'm departing in the morning," Sebastian remarked, almost in passing, and Anders' attention was suddenly fixed entirely upon the prince again.

He blinked, somewhat at a loss for words. "For where?"

"I have business to attend to with the Lord Chancellor of Tantervale." He paused to take a bite of his dinner. "I'll be gone nearly two months."

"That long?" Anders asked, and tried to sound disappointed.

"I would bring you with me, love, but I do not believe the Lord Chancellor would be pleased." Because you're a mage. The unspoken words lingered in the air. Anders knew from the many guests Sebastian entertained that the accompaniment of a noble's lover was commonplace, even expected. The Lord Chancellor of Tantervale would be displeased if Sebastian brought Anders with him not because Anders was the prince's paramour, but because he was a mage.

Anders did not have to fake the annoyance in his voice when he replied. "Well, I'm not pleased you're going."

"I know, love, and neither am I. But this is the way of politics in the Free Marches. I promise to make it up to you as soon as I return."

"You'd better." Anders attempted a pout, and Sebastian smiled broadly at him.

"I certainly shall."

When they finally exited the dining room, the prince followed Anders back to his chambers, as expected. A glance spared in Fenris' direction confirmed he was not happy, but Anders didn't dare reject Sebastian a second time today. Especially if he was to be departing in the morning.

They'd never been separated for so long before. Perhaps tonight, as a brief farewell, Sebastian would be slow, gentle, loving. The way he used to be. And then maybe all of Anders' feelings for Sebastian would come rushing back, and he could forget about this nonsense with the elf and his plans for escape, and go back to happy complacency.

This was not the case, and Anders couldn't say he was surprised.

When Sebastian finally departed, Anders had only that familiar ache and an empty chest to comfort him. His large bed grew cold quickly, and for the millionth time, he stared up at his ceiling and wondered how he'd ended up here.

He finally peeled himself from the bed to wash and dress, limbs moving mechanically. Fully-clothed again, he stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring out the window, imagining what it would be like to fly away.

Then he was moving without thinking, pulling the door open to stare at the guard across the hall. Fenris met his eyes briefly, then turned away. And Anders found he couldn't look at the elf any longer either.

They stood there for a long while, neither able to look away from the floor. Finally, Anders sat down, leaning his back against the door frame. He folded his arms across his knees, and rested his head there. A short while later, he heard the clanking shift of armor, and Fenris was sitting on the ground beside him.

"Why do you stay?" the guard asked softly.

Anders lifted his head slowly. "If I leave, the templars will come after me. I'd be running for the rest of my life."

"Is this better?"

Anders was silent for a long time, considering. Finally, he replied, "I don't know."

Fenris moved closer to him, close enough that Anders could feel the heat from the other man's body. The warmth provided a small comfort, and they sat together in silence, until Fenris had to depart with the changing shift.

Anders retreated to his room then, but did not sleep. He sat at his desk, scrawling page after page until the sun rose. In the morning, Anders watched Sebastian depart from the window in his bedchambers. He would be gone before the prince returned, he promised himself. There was nothing for him here. Nothing but a lifetime of misery, locked in a cage.