Sasukec: Thank you for beginning this wonderful, new journey with me, reader. If you've played Dragon Age II and experienced the conversations with the elf companion Fenris, you've most likely heard many snippets of his past and his escape. Overall, they're interesting little bits that are a story worth sharing in their own way. They were interesting enough to me that I felt a proper story needed to be formed of his first memories to his first step into Kirkwall. Thus, this story was created.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of most of the characters, especially the main character Fenris. He, and most characters in this story, belongs solely to Bioware and David Gaider. However, I do own the Fog Warriors which are seen in a part of the story.
"Leto! Leto! Catch me if you can!"
Varania may have been faster than I ever could have wished to be, but I could easily outwit her in my own way. Besides, I was older and smarter than she was and I knew that if I cut around this tree just right, I could cut her off. Her long, red hair and her small elf figure disappeared behind the large oak in our Master's courtyard just as I had expected her to. Moments later, I intercepted her with ease, feeling my own superiority as her elder at stake if I hadn't done so. We collided and fell to the ground, wrestling for dominance while laughing and giggling at our own childish ways.
"You're a fool to think you could outsmart me, sister!"
As I finally began to gain an upper hand in our wrestling battle, I heard footsteps nearby. A sign that meant only two things in this estate: our mother had returned from her daily errands or our Master had work to force upon us. I so feared that if he had caught us in such a gay activity, he would become even angrier than he normally seemed with us. Mother always told us to never look him in the eyes, for he would be able to read what it was we had done wrong or if we ever were to lie to him. In fear of any punishment that would be put onto my sister and me, I quickly halted my merriment and whispered quickly to Varania.
"Sister, he is coming."
It was a common practice between the two of us to quickly begin a task that would seem pleasing to our Master. It was also a common practice that we have never learned our Master's name. Our mother told us that one day we wouldn't have to worry about a Master. As wonderful and inspiring the idea sounded, the most unlikely it also seemed. I was old enough to understand that what my mother wanted couldn't be what everyone wanted. I could not say the same for my sister.
Varania sullenly nodded, understand what I had meant, and quickly began studiously tending to the flowers that lay around the large oak. I began to help her with them, not knowing what else to get to as quickly. Just as I had suspected, our Master opened the red wooden door that lead into the back of his mansion. We were never to call it our mansion, for it wasn't ours. Although we tended to all of the responsibilities around the mansion for its upkeep, we were never to call it our mansion, or even our home.
"Boy!" Our Master's voice called out, obviously putting me as the object of his anger.
"Yes, Master?" I replied as calmly as I could.
"Boy!" He repeated, storming closer. I continued to fiddle with the flowers just as Varania did. I could feel my fingers tremble as he grew closer.
"Look at me when I talk to you, scissor ears!"
I was finally forced to look at him when he lifted my body off the ground with my hair as his leverage. I could feel individual hairs being pulled out of my scalp from his very grasp that made tears sting the back of my eyes. I looked at him, dangling and holding onto his tightened fist, hoping for a relief of pain. He usually grabbed me from my hair, claiming once that my hair was pure white and that elves are in no way pure. This was one reason I believed wholeheartedly that he hated me.
"Yes, Master." I said the only thing I knew would get me closer to being released.
Varania continued to pat the soil around the flowers, being as quiet as death itself. She and I knew very well that nothing could be done.
"Boy, why aren't you inside cleaning the floors? You know that you bastard children are NEVER to work together!"
His deep voice resonated with anger which was what terrified me most about the man. Before I could answer, he tossed me toward the stone ground in which my body had made hard contact with. I felt some bones fracture in my body, not quite sure where it had occurred, but I knew that this wouldn't matter. At least, not to my Master…
Suddenly, I felt the fractures turn into burns of pain which quickly seared throughout my entire body. I soon felt certain lined paths of burning pain sear its way through my skin, my eyes being blinded from the sheer pain that these burns offered. I felt as though death's cold embrace would be welcome, as the pain continued. I could feel it as it went through the tips of each of my fingers, each individual finger experiencing the feeling of a slow death that raptured my arms in its suffering. I screamed as the horrible pain made its strange and gruesome ways about my chest and neck. I felt so much pain in that small moment, that it all seemed like it was a bad dream. A surreal fantasy that was only to be proven real when the pain finally, and abruptly, slowed to a halt.
The hell I had just endured had succumbed to a small throb as I opened my eyes to find my body glowing in strange sapphire etched lines in my tan skin. I also found myself naked in a suddenly cold room on a wooden table. I lifted my numb hands to my eyes where I saw the strange marks glowing on each of my fingers and on my forearms. The pain lit up again in an unexpected manner and then fear set in just as quickly. I rolled off the table and hit the hard floor, screaming and clawing at the stone floor. I had no idea what was happening or who I was. All I knew now was the pain that set my body ablaze and tore at my sanity until I felt it escaping me just as my life was. I squeezed my eyes shut as I took in a deep breath of musty air, feeling the strange burning lines send another scream out of my throat and echo off the large walls.
My own screams terrified me which only fueled the pain that now ravaged my lower body. I could no longer cope with the pain that I was experiencing and knew nothing of why this was happening or even what was happening. My body began to spasm as the pain traveled down my legs, the glow of my pain-filled body lighting the room about me. I had managed to crawl some ways away from the wooden table on which I initially began on. It wasn't long before the pain stopped once more and I was left gasping for air and choking on my own dying screams. My body felt like it had been charred beyond recognition, every inch of it throbbing in a cry for relief. I felt ripped away from the real world and introduced to a new world of which pain was its forte.
Once my screams had died into small sobs of gasps and tears, I felt the new marks on my body subside in their glows. In turn, this granted me a brief moment of relief. I felt little pain in comparison to what I had just endured. I tried to calm my breathing down, but the pain came back sharply as I felt two sets of hands on my arms. They pulled me up from the ground, my body and energy too used up by the pain that had just transpired to fight back. I could not walk and it seems as if these pairs of hands' owners knew this fact. They continued to drag me while I let my feet drag across the floor, my head too heavy to lift.
The room was suddenly bright again, burning my eyes that were already accustomed to and welcomed the dark environment. Next, we were stopped and I felt a soft rug beneath my feet, although the softness did little to ease the pain that these hands were causing me. It seemed to be touched only brought the pain back again and, once again realizing that I was bare of all clothing, it made me feel more vulnerable than just being nude. My newly acquired marks were completely exposed to these new and unknown surroundings.
Moments later, I heard a door slam shut and I was released from the grasp of the pair of hands. I crumpled to the floor, feeling once more a sting of pain sent throughout my body. I was exhausted and could not move. I felt as though I would never be able to move again, my body forever paralyzed from the torture it had received. I grunted and moaned in my throat, just the very rumble of my vocal chords sending small signals of pain.
"Hello, Fenris."
A nasally yet deep voice resonated throughout what sounded to me like a grand hall, if not the room was certainly large. I was confused by this voice. Was that my name?
"'My little wolf', Fenris. Rise."
Fenris? Possibly this was my name. I remember nothing…
"You must be weary. I can't have you like this, Fenris."
I hadn't moved an inch, afraid that my marks would pain me more. I could only reply, "Who am I…?"
"Do you not remember?" I heard the man approach, the swishing of his robes alerting me to his presence more than anything. "You are Fenris, my elven slave. You have just been given a remarkable gift."
Slave, am I? Fenris, am I? I could no longer handle the reality in which I had been so violently thrown into. My mind began to slip into unconsciousness and I couldn't welcome it more.
Sasukec: I feel as though the beginning to this story turned out much more wonderful than I'd hoped! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I hope that I captured Fenris as a child and then Fenris as he experiences getting the lyrium marks. Sorry if this seemed somewhat short. Upon request/demand I mgith make this chapter more lengthy. Reviews are always nice, but if you enjoyed it, that pleases me even more :) Chapter 2 is on the way.