The Ritual
Hawke took a seat next to Fenris at her desk in the library. He had chosen a book about lyrium of all things. Such dry reading.
"Why lyrium Fenris? I thought you wouldn't want a book discussing something so... close to home," Hawke said gently as she flitted her eyes to Fenris' markings. He must have caught her glance.
"And why not Hawke, I shouldn't care to know more about what was carved into me?" He retorted. Hawke recoiled a bit from his gaze. He must have caught that, too.
"I'm sorry. It's just, this book has so many uses for lyrium. How Templars use it, how mages use it to augment their powers, but nothing about it being branded into flesh. I suppose it was too much to hope to find out more." He sighed, and his features softened. "You know Hawke, I don't even know how these markings really work."
"But you use them all the time. Surely you must know something about them. I mean, I always thought you remembered the ritual and... all that. I figured you must also have had some training how to use them," Hawke spoke softly, quizzically, not wanting to push the subject unnecessarily.
"I remember the ritual only for the pain and agony it produced. I remember that most of all, but I don't even know if these markings will kill me one day. This book says over and over lyrium is poison, and there is no doubt they used a lot on me." He raised his arms slightly as if to prove his point to Hawke.
She had never considered the idea that the lyrium might in the end mean something dangerous for Fenris. Perhaps the lyrium was poisoning him as they spoke. The thought terrified her more than she was prepared for. Yet, there was no denying that lyrium indeed could be poison and mean death especially in large quantities. Fenris' whole past about the markings and how he got them through a mysterious ritual that was inflicted on him had always puzzled her. She had tried lyrium a few times to augment her own mage abilities. One time she had greedily taken more than she should have, and was sick for days. To have so much of it, and burned into flesh instead of just harmless distilled potions. She couldn't imagine.
"What do you remember... about the ritual" she said it without thinking, her mouth snapped shut, and she looked up meeting Fenris' inquisitive raised eyebrow gaze. "You don't have to answer that..." she spat out quickly, attempting to recover her words from the air. Too late.
Fenris closed the book in front of him slowly. Her question had already taken him to a dark place in his mind. Hawke could see it on his face. She expected anger or one of his retorts, but his expression made her wish she had never spoken at all.
"I remember..." he began.
"You don't have to tell me this, Fenris. I understand not wanting to talk about it. In fact, I'm not sure I want to hear this..." Hawke cut him off and grabbed the book quickly from the desk. She stood up with book in hand. Fenris was staring off, not really paying attention to her.
"NO more books about lyrium for you. Next time I'll choose the book, okay?" she faked a smile to cut the tension that had grown thick in the room and moved toward the shelf to put the book away.
"It must have taken days... Weeks... I don't remember how long. All time faded away in that wasteland of agony. No beginning and no end," she heard him going on behind her. His voice was soft, almost nostalgic. She turned. He was staring at the markings on his arms with a glazed over look in his eyes. They had known each other for years, but she had never wanted to know this story. She had never asked, and he had never told. She didn't know why now.. what had happened to trigger this conversation?
"Fenris, why are you telling me this? Why now? I don't want to hear it. I may enjoy killing our enemies, but my tastes aren't so macabre that I want to hear this." Hawke walked back over to where Fenris was still sitting at the desk. She sat down in a chair across from him. He still looked lost in thought, but had not continued.
"Hawke, Danarius is still out there somewhere." His voice was a calm, unreadable tone. " I can't forget what he did to me, and I can't ever forgive. I hate them, and magic is the reason. Always the reason. I want you to understand. You're a mage of exceptional skill." He wrinkled his brow, considering something. " In Tevinter you would probably have done well for yourself." The statement burned Hawke like a hot knife. She knew he had not meant it as an insult, but the thought cut deep.
" I wonder who you would be if you had been born there instead." He continued. Hawke gritted her teeth, not wanting to think of the possibilities. "Of all people Hawke, I would have my... friend understand. I know how I must seem to everyone. It hasn't been easy for you to put up with me in these past few years I would assume. I am sorry for being so ungrateful. I want to tell you this. If we ever find Danarius, I want someone to know. I would like that someone to be you, Hawke." Fenris looked up at her, his green eyes piercing.
His expression revealed nothing, but his eyes, in those eyes she saw everything. She knew this was about more than just lyrium. More than just a conversation reliving the horrors of the past. This was about trust. He wanted so desperately to trust someone. She knew, because she wanted the same thing. She was a mage, after all, and no matter what, mages were capable of horrible things beyond humanly possible. Fenris was living proof of that.
When the time came to choose sides... no, it won't come to that. She assured herself. Despite what Anders kept saying about the Tranquil solution, the Templars, and Meredith, it couldn't be so bad as to lead to some catastrophe where she would have to choose a side.
She realized she had only been staring dumbly, lost in her thoughts, and the silence was becoming deafening. Fenris was waiting for an answer. His emerald eyes were locked on Hawke. He was studying her. She bit her lip. She steeled her resolve. If this was something he needed to do, then she would hear it.
"Continue then, if you must..." Hawke took in a breath, preparing herself. Their eyes were locked, but Fenris broke his gaze first. Staring at the candle on the desk instead. His brow furrowed, his look became that concentrating often mistaken for anger expression she saw when he was reading.
"I remember... not being able to think. A curious feeling. Besides not recalling anything, I remember trying to think, but nothing came. A blank darkness in response to every question. The pain was all I knew. The more I attempted to fight, to struggle, the higher the level of pain seemed to go. After a time it was like the pain became a living entity, always with me. I fought, though. I struggled against the restraints with everything I had. They wanted me still, and so they forced me still. I lay paralyzed. I remember being locked in my own body, only able to feel and not move. I felt my head was being bludgeoned on again and again. I could not hold my eyes open. They felt like they would explode. When I could force them open there were shadows... voices... fleeting light mixed with infinite darkness. I don't know if I slept. I don't remember sleeping. I don't remember respite from any of it. Only greater and lesser degrees of agony. I can't describe it any other way. The burning. I remember that. The smell of flesh burning. Your familiar with it, Hawke. Only... I knew it was my own flesh. After a while I felt there was nothing left of me but bones. Surely they had burnt it all away, but then how was I still alive. Perhaps I wasn't." Fenris paused. The anger was in his eyes. Hawke had seen those eyes before. Cold, unforgiving. When he had killed Hadriana, he had those eyes. She didn't want him to go on anymore.
"Enough. I understand. I don't need the details, Fenris." Her stomach churned a little from the mental images being etched on her mind. "I do understand. I've never thought your hate unjustified. You hate magic for what it did to you. I already get that! I am a mage. I live with magic every day of my life. I know if I make one little mistake then it's over... for me... for the people close to me.. I ..." she trailed off in her tangent as Fenris' angry gaze fixed on her. He stood up.
"Oh, so you understand? That's it. You think this is about you, Hawke? Venhedis! I don't want your pity. I thought that was clear enough." His words were dripping with venom. "Is that what you think? I'm telling you all this because I want you to pity me? To offer me condolences for being the poor, pathetic, ex slave who had to endure such things. Apparently you don't understand anything, Hawke. It was a mistake to... tell you." He had paused at the last part, and Hawke was sure he had been going to say 'trust.'
His fists were clenched, and Hawke thought he might slam something with them any moment. His markings glowed slightly. She saw it then. His hate, his rage, unbridled. His green eyes blazed, and his expression turned to a sneer. She realized her fists were clenched too. She had risen from her chair to face him. Her knuckles were white. They stood feet apart. If someone had walked in on them at that moment that person would probably think they were about to hit each other.
Hawke decided to back off first. She plopped back down in her chair. Through gritted teeth she hissed "Fenris, it never was about pity. It never has been about pity!" She struggled to calm her voice and herself.
"I think about Tevinter, about what happened to you.. to others.. what mages still do today and the weight of what I am and what people like me are capable of just... scares me... alright." The truth of the words struck her. She hadn't realized how much being a mage weighed on her. "There, okay! I'm terrified your right. I'm terrified I will end up being tempted by blood magic and turn into an abomination. Become a monster who kills indiscriminately anyone who is fool enough to be near it." Her mind raced at the horrors of what she knew she could do if she lost control. Or worse, if something controlled her.
"You start talking about that ritual, and what they did to you and I can't stop myself from wondering. Wondering if I, too, would be capable of that. I wish you could just trust me, Fenris!" Hawke could feel her face flush with anger. Her hands were still in fists even though she sat.
She didn't like being afraid of her powers. She didn't like admitting to herself that there was a dangerous side to magic, and that any mage was prey to it. She wanted to think she was above such things. She wanted to think she was immune to a demon's touch, and that she would never give in. That she could use her powers with abandon and never fall prey to the risks, the temptations. She could see herself waiver. To find her mother she had called on Gascard DuPuis. He had performed blood magic at her bidding. She had been desperate, and nobody had spoken up. If something threatened those she loved, would she be able to let them die just to avoid blood magic. Could she refuse a demon's offer then, even if it would save the ones she loved.
Hawke was so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice that Fenris had come closer. He was towering above her chair now, and he bent down and rested a hand on each leather-bound arm of her chair.
"I remember the blood." He went on as if nothing had happened. His expression was calm, emotionless.
"My blood. I remember them throwing ice cold water on me in between the searing, burning. The ice burned as much as the fire. It was no comfort. Only a different kind of burning. I remember watching the blood swirl in rivers on the stone floor." He was staring down at her, his voice stone again. She couldn't meet those cold eyes. She forced herself to look away.
"I don't know how so much blood could have come from one being. I struggled again and again to think. Yet it seemed as soon as I would reach for a thought, the burning fire would start again. I could never isolate or identify which part of me they were branding. The lyrium was in my blood, each marking made seared through my whole body. I remember hearing screams. Screams I didn't recognize. Screams of a dying man. Screams and screams until no screams came, only choked cries from a hoarse throat. When I was at the end of my strength, felt my life slipping away I awaited the end with longing. A respite at last. That is when they would dump the ice water on me." He spat the last words, letting some of his anger slip.
"I remember them laughing, gloating, whispering how 'well' it was going. All I could concentrate on was the blood. So much blood. Mixed with a blue liquid. lyrium." Fenris had lowered his voice and he lowered his face so it was even with Hawke's. Hawke searched for anything to concentrate on besides him. His steady voice didn't waiver this time. His eyes were the very picture of cold insolence and anger.
Hawke felt trapped in her chair. She squirmed uncomfortably. Shifted her weight. She couldn't meet his eyes. She thought of the soft looks he had given her before, the smile that came to his lips ever so often during their talks. She started to panic at the thought of never seeing that Fenris again. She didn't recognize him right now. She wanted her friend back. She wanted her Fenris back.
Suddenly, realization sunk in. That was the point. She snapped her head up and met Fenris' gaze with her own. The fierce green orbs burned into her, but she did not falter.
"When I first met you.." she began, "I asked you about your markings. You had no qualms telling people how you got them, who gave them to you, and how you planned to do .. what was it you said?... 'more than just talk.' This hate, what they did... Fenris. Magic did this. Need for power did this. I don't expect you to forgive or forget that. I would not. I could not. Some things can't be treated. Time can't heal all wounds despite what people say. I know that feeling." Hawke thought about her mother, her brother, countless others who mages had inflicted their magic upon. She thought of herself, and she vowed to remain strong. To fight even until her last breath as Fenris had done while strapped down, helpless, being burned alive. She wouldn't let herself be that kind of mage, ever, for any reward or cost. "I would rather die than be anything like them, Fenris."
"Have you ever hated someone so much that you wanted nothing more than to kill them, Hawke? What if doing that means you have to become something you don't like? What then?" The sincerity in his voice took Hawke off guard. She didn't know if it was supposed to be rhetorical. Even so, she had asked herself the same question many times.
"You should hate. That doesn't mean that hate has to control you. That doesn't mean it has to dictate who you are. Who you will become. If being powerless is evil, then is taking vengeance for the powerless wrong? I don't think it's wrong. I think it is necessary." Hawke kept herself from faltering. She met his gaze with her own. "There is blood on my hands, too." She said softly.
"Thank you, Hawke. I think we finally understand each other. I carved my way to freedom in blood. I have no problem ending Danarius and anyone else who stands in my way. After all these years I wanted to tell you because I wanted you to understand how deep this goes. I can't go to the others. I don't know them. Yet, you... Hawke; I think you deserved to know the truth about everything. About me." Fenris voice softened somewhat, but his expression remained blank.
"When the time comes, Fenris, for you to exact vengeance, I won't get in your way. I want to be there, though. I want to be there as your friend. To watch him pay." Hawke placed her hands over Fenris'. He was still resting them on each side of her chair. He was gripping so tightly she thought he might break it. As she wrapped each of her hands around his she was surprised he didn't balk at her touch. She had expected him to shrug her off, or just plain back up. She knew touch was something he avoided.
"You know the first thing I remember coming out of that nightmare?" He took in a breath, allowing Hawke to curl her fingers around his. "Someone calling the name Fenris. Over and Over. Fenris.. Fenris... I didn't know who that was. I didn't know anything. The agony had seared it all away. The fire in my blood still burned, out of control. The magisters had to bind me at first until I could learn to control these markings. All the time calling a name. Fenris." He lowered himself down in front of her. He was practically kneeling now. She had hoped she wasn't going to hear any more.
A sting began to come to her eyes. A tear threatened to poke through. No pity. She thought, and hardened herself. She hoped he had not seen.
"Eventually, I learned Fenris was who I was. I have been Fenris ever since. I learned, too, that my master could do whatever he wanted and there was no way I could stop him. I simply, existed. An aggregation of experiences that is the life of a slave. Even the markings were no use to me. I had to learn control, and I had lost all free will to use them except when called upon by my master. A slave's future is certain. I never questioned. My sense of self, self-respect, dignity... all of it, gone. Only Fenris remained after that burning agony." He finally looked away. His tone had gotten softer. He paused.
Hawke could think of nothing to say. What could one say at a time like this? She thought of how he had comforted her after her mother's death. She felt the same inadequacy here.
"Hawke, I've never told anyone these things. I don't know how I'm able to tell you now, only..." He turned and faced her again. "I want you to see. I want you to know. You of all people because.. I..." he trailed off. His expression was soft again. The firelight danced over his face. The puppy eyes were back.
Hawke couldn't hold back her smile at seeing that expression. Those eyes. She had thought she would never see them again. She threw her arms around Fenris' neck, pulling him into a hug. She didn't care if he found it uncomfortable or not. She had never felt so honored and privileged as she did at that moment. She wanted to be the person he could trust, and she wanted him to be someone she could trust fully. She respected him so much, and yet she had never understood fully his hate. This other side of him that came out in angry bursts.
She felt his arms wrap around her waist and she pulled him in closer. It wasn't pity. It was never about pity. This was about something else. Something deeper. She finally allowed herself a single tear. Not because of what they had done to him, but because of what he had lost. She finally grasped what slavery meant. A person who is totally helpless in the face of their keeper. All things that make someone who they are: dignity, self-respect, values, and sense of self gone, erased. Living only hour to hour knowing that any time without pain is only because your master chooses it. She did not see.. she cursed herself for being so blind.
"If you trust nothing else, Fenris. I would hope that you trust me. Trust me to never be like them. To never betray a friend." They pulled away from each other's grasp. Fenris rose slowly, his eyes fixated on Hawke. The deep sea of green took her in. She couldn't look away. "No matter what, I will always be your friend, Fenris. You once told me that when the day comes you wouldn't expect me to be there, but I will be there, because.." she lost her train of thought in a sudden realization that nearly took her breath away.
She loved him. Anger, rage, hate, and all... she realized she loved him. All of him. She had found nobody else in all that time since he had left her. That night burned in her memory. How they had found each other so accidentally. She had not expected to feel this way. She thought she had moved on. After he had left, she thought it would all just go away in time. Now, he had shown her the worst side of him, and it sunk in at last. She loved him. No denying it to herself anymore. She studied his features, his face, that look, she took in every detail. Was there even a part of him that still cared for her that way?
"Thank you for... listening to me tonight, Hawke." His voice shattered her thoughts as her mind raced. "I hadn't expected the evening to go quite like this." He stood up, looking around the room, suddenly appearing uncomfortable. "I suppose there is just a lot to think about these days. With the city on edge and no sign of Danarius for 5 years now. I'm beginning to wonder." He gave Hawke another look, and she found herself longing for him to stay. Yet, he was taking his leave toward the front door.
Dawn's light trickled in from the windows. Hawke hadn't realized they had been in her library all night. Time had just seemed to vanish.
"Fenris..." she called after him following him out of the library to the front foyer. "Promise me something before you go. One thing." She smiled coyly and tilted her head.
Fenris crossed his arms in mock annoyance "It is morning already. We both need to sleep. What is it?"
Hawke ran up to him, her smile faded, her look earnest. "Promise me, that if something happens, that if... the mages and the templars force me to choose sides..."
Fenris put up a hand to stop her. "Hawke, I know you. I know you will do the best you can. You always do."
"Promise you won't betray me!" she blurted out, the words came unbidden, angry, hurt. She didn't mean for them to sound as such, but they echoed on the walls. Fenris raised an eyebrow.
"I never intend to betray you, Hawke. Why say such a thing? I owe you a debt, a bigger debt than I could ever repay. I intend to stay with you Hawke if you still have need of me, and if you still want me." The last words stabbed at her heart like a dagger. They hadn't ever talked about that night, and she understood. She had forgiven him a long time ago. Yet tonight she realized how much she did still want him. Fenris' puzzled look fixed on Hawke as she stood there in front of him. She looked away and took a quick second to recover herself.
"Thank you, I know it seems silly, but it means a lot to me. I don't think I could stand it if you weren't there with me when things go badly." Hawke fumbled over her words. She must be tired.
"You mean if things go badly." Fenris offered.
"Alright, alright.. still with me around things always go badly. I need someone I can trust. So far, out of everyone, in all these years, I think you're the only one I trust completely. Especially after..." she glanced at the library door. Not wanting to recall those images in her mind again.
"Trouble does seem to follow you Hawke." He half smiled at her, then paused and cast his eyes downward. "I... feel the same way. Then again you're the only friend I have and have ever had, though, so I can't say I have much experience." He turned and opened the door to go.
"Goodnight, Hawke." He called back as he exited.
Hawke stared at the closed door, leaning against the wall in the entrance. She felt the cool stone on her fingers, and recalled that night. She stayed there a while, until exhaustion forced her to make the trip to her bedchamber and flop down onto her bed. Sleep took her quickly but only nightmares came.
Nightmares of screams and blood and lyrium. She was paralyzed and her flesh was burning. She called out, screamed, but no sound came. She awoke with tears in her eyes from the pain of the invisible fires. She checked her limbs to make sure she was still in one piece. She was sweating. She cursed.
"They deserve their fate, Fenris. Every. Last. One. I only hope I am there on the day you rip his throat out." Hawke whispered to the air.