"Dear, really? I mean, my heart goes out to him but we're already in danger. Do we want to bring more attention to us, now?"
"I can't just leave him, Leandra."
"He's... no! Until he's better." Her shoulders sagged and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Malcom, I love you."
"I love you too dear," he said, pulling her forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and kissing her temple. "And it'll all be okay."
"You always say that."
"Have I been wrong yet?" He kissed her again, and then disentangled himself from her to walk towards the hut where the elf was laying. Opening the door he saw his eldest caring for him. Bethany was cleaning the rags, and Carver had been sent out to see if anybody had seen or heard anything. Marian cleaned his wounds manually. The elf had attacked, arms flailing when Bethany had summoned her healing magic forth. That left it to Marian, while he went to go talk to his wife, to try and heal him.
"Father," Bethany said from her position, as far away from the elf as she could be. He obviously did not like mages, and Bethany was scared of him from the hunched way she sat.
"How is he?" Malcom asked, keeping his distance. The green eyes behind the white curtain of hair watched him, watched all of them closely.
"He's been better," Marian said, reaching up and moving the hair out of his eyes. The elf jumped and flinched, glancing at her. Marian clicked her tongue, reaching and wiping away at the sweat on his forehead. "But he's going to be okay."
"Has he said anything?"
"Just keeps watching Bethany like she's going kill him," Marian shrugged. "If you and her leave, we might get a little more from him. Just a thought."
"Bethany, you can go help your mother now." Bethany took the opening and dashed out of the hut.
"Da, I'd be fine," Marian said, frowning as she took the cool rag from him and went back to cleaning the wound on the elf's shoulder. "He's quite... docile when no magic is involved."
"Last one?"
"Yes. It's shallow." She wrapped the wound, and the elf sat stiff as a board as she worked. "Now all he needs is a decent meal and some sleep."
"Your mother has the food covered, and we'll set up a makeshift bed in here for him."
"I'll get to work on it."
"I'll go get the blankets. I'll... trust you." He stood and with one last smile to the elf he walked to their home. The elf watched him go, his one good hand clenching.
"Anything in particular you want for dinner, elf?" she asked, and his brilliant eyes swung around to stare at her. "We don't have much, admittedly, but if you have any preferences." She trailed off as she rinsed out the rag and re rolled some of the bandages.
"They're mages," he said finally, making her jump and fumble with the rags. She caught it before it completely unraveled.
"Yes," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him with a nod. "You don't like magic?"
He shrugged, glancing around as if avoiding her.
"Do you have a name? I don't like using 'elf' to refer to you. And you know mine."
His eyes trailed back towards her, and he swallowed hard. "Fenris."
"Fenris." She smiled and nodded to him. "Thank you." He just stared at her, giving an awkward nod to make her stop watching.
He sat in the dirt, watching her as she packed away the bandages in a small box. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her golden honey eyes focused on organizing the box so everything fit. She didn't speak again, and for that he was grateful. He didn't know what to say, or to do. She was far too kind, her calloused hands gentle when they had tended to him.
He had expected to be backhanded when he had reacted to the female mage. He hadn't meant to, except healing magic was cold as it stitched the skin back together. It's beginning wasn't much different as when Master Danarius activated the lyrium in his skin, the cold numbness spreading before the pain. Fenris knew he shouldn't have reacted, but it had shocked him, scared him. He had not expected anybody to be mages, here on Seheron that wasn't bound with their lips stitched, or from Tevinter and owning slaves.
Yet this family had two mages, from the looks, and lived in the run down huts with 'little food' as she- Marian- said. It did not make sense. Especially that she continued to tend to him after he had nearly struck the female mage. She seemed to even get more gentle, after his episode. He jumped when the male mage, their father, came back in. He carried a tray and blankets, and Marian stood with graceful ease to meet him. The man stood at a respectful distance away. Fenris didn't quite understand why.
"Here are the blankets, and some stew."
"His name is Fenris, if that helps you talk to Mama about it," she said, taking the blankets and tossing them off to the side and carefully taking the tray.
He kissed her forehead with a smile. "The more real he gets, the more I'll be able to weasel out of her."
She laughed at that before turning and carrying the tray over. Fenris curled up more, holding his knees up and staring at the steaming stew. "All yours, Fenris," she said, and his eyes jumped up to her smiling face. She sat back on her haunches, wiped her hands, and then fluidly stood to start positioning the blankets. Her father moved to help her.
He was tall, his sandy hair cut short, just over his round ears. His face was long, with crows feet and laugh lines. But handsome, Fenris figured. He held himself nobly, with square shoulders, fit shoulders for a mage, and nimble fingers. He did not seem a mage, to Fenris. Too dirty, too strong and capable. But when the mages green eyes traveled back to him, he busied himself with the stew.
Malcom turned back to helping Marian get the blankets laid out. Seheron was a fairly warm place, the bugs a testament to it, but the nights could get chilly. And the pillow would probably be very much welcome. "I'm going to go find Carver. If he's out smoozing with Peaches again instead of coming back, I'll box the boys ears."
Marian laughed again. "Alright, Da." He then turned, gave another bright smile to Fenris, and then disappeared out the door. Fenris tried to eat as quickly as possible, but he was fumbling with his left hand, and his right was bandaged and broken. She giggled when the stew sloshed and spilt. Face red, he hunched further into himself, avoiding the mocking gaze. Except she sat in front of him, legs crossing. "Looks like you're right handed. That means you're going to have to eat a little slower, Fenris."
He glanced up, keeping his hair to hide his eyes. She just smiled, moving some of the bread and fruit. He wondered if she had an obsessive problem, or if this was as awkward for her as it was for him. But it couldn't be, could it? He was a slave, still. Maybe. Master Danarius would be back, and he was still property. They weren't, right? He was... Fenris growled, dropping the spoon and leaning back.
"Was it something I said? I'm sorry." She pulled her hands back, placing them in her lap and picking at the dirt under her nails. "I'd leave you to eat in peace, but after what you've been through, whatever you've done, I'd hate for you to end up throwing up without somebody to make sure you're okay." A moment of thought. "And here to clean it so you don't end up sleeping in a room with vomit steaming in the corner."
When he finished, she took the tray and gave him a bright smile , saying "If you need anything, we're just over there. You're in our storage barn, so if you're hungry, just steal a little." She gave him a wink at that. "I'll come check on you in the morning, make sure you're still breathing and bring some breakfast. Sleep well, Fenris."
She didn't lie. She was there early morning, appraising the blankets he had folded and then him, sitting and staring at the wall. That was what the next two days were like, sitting in the hut and simply existing. Marian and her brother, Carver, both came in and out of the hut, helping him. They- she tried to urge him to come outside, but it terrified him at first. He had no Master anymore. Danarius was gone. What did you do when you were free? It was his choice now, wasn't it? What did he want to do?
He finally emerged from the hut late in the morning. Carver sat out in some of the mud, digging out some of their crops, covered and messy. He ran the muck through his hair, across his forehead wiping at the sweat. Bethany walked out carrying some cups, smiling and kicking her brother gently and he swiped at her legs. Fenris felt like he was intruding. When Bethany stood up she spotted him. She stiffened, but gave him a smile. Carver glanced at her and then stretched to see him.
"Hey," Carver said, frowning and grunting as he stood, holding the cup in his teeth. He turned and nodded to Bethany and handed her back the cup. "Walking again huh?"
Fenris glanced at him, and the urge came to not respond to that. So he didn't. Carver glared at him, but simply turned. "Go tell Da. And Marian will want to know."
"Mama can finally meet him," Bethany said, turning and skipping back up into the hut.
Fenris felt giddy. He had been rude and nothing had happened. He reached up, scratching at his shoulder wound. Carver raised an eyebrow at that. "I warn you now. There are two people in that hut that will smack you for picking at your wounds. And Da won't be too kind about it either." Carver picked up the basket of crops with a grunt and Fenris let his hand drop, staring wide eyed from his back and to the door.
Marian burst out with a grin, and behind her the rest of the family filtered out. Malcom walked out with a pretty lady on his arm. She was short and frail looking. Her hair was dark, but greying. Long and pulled up, away, easily manageable and twisted in a bun. Her face looked tired, weary against the stress of Seheron. Her clothes large on her frame, the wrap a dull yellow color, her feet covered in leather. She clung to Malcom, frowns pulling at her pretty face.
"We're going to have to get you some better clothes," Marian said , appraising him. Carver's pants hung low on his slender hips, the human bigger. His shirt had been torn and lost when he had run, his armor dented and left rusting somewhere on the island. Leaving him terribly exposed. It still felt like a knife in his gut, thinking like that. But none of them said anything about it. None of them even asked about his tattoos, though they ogled when they thought he wasn't looking. Still, he hunched over and watched them all.
"We wouldn't want him running around with his pants on the ground, true," Malcom said with a chuckle. Fenris glanced down and pulled his pants up.
"We've lived in the jungle too long," the lady said, glaring at all of them. "None of you have any manners. And I've tried so hard."
"Sorry Mama," they all said together, and Malcom just kissed her temple.
"Fenris, this is Mama. Mama, Fenris," Marian said with a flourish. "Or Leandra, if you don't feel right calling her Mama."
"Old lady usually works. Or just 'hey you' considering we live alone in the jungle," Carver said, earning a slap over the head from Bethany.
Leandra ignored both of them, mostly Carver, and extended her hand to him. Fenris glanced from it and back up to her, eyes wide. He slowly took her hand and she shook it. "Oh, you poor dear." She held a dainty hand to her mouth. Fenris pulled his hands away, finding the pity to be as hurtful as when Hadriana kicked his ribs one of the many nights he was forced to spend with her.
He glared at her but hid it behind a curtain of white hair. "Mama," Bethany and Marian said with a groan.
"What?"
"And our manners are bad," Marian groaned. "How are you feeling?" she asked, turning back to Fenris.
He glanced at her. "Fine."
"Fine?"
He glared at her too and she threw her arms up in the air. "He's male," Marian muttered to Bethany. "I'm going to go trade with the Fog Warriors, before I ruin a good moment."
"Hold up," Carver yelled, running inside and coming out with a great sword and running after her. She picked up two of the large bundles and bags they had piled at the side of their shack, and Carver carried the other three, continuously cursing her for not stopping. And leaving him with the larger load most likely. Fenris watched them go, swallowing as he glanced back at the two mages and the lady, unable to shake off the dread that filled his guts.
"Bethany get the crops and go start washing them please," Malcom said and Leandra turned to help her daughter. "And you, Fenris. Why don't you come drink some tea with an old man."
Fenris watched as Bethany hoisted the basket, carrying it against her hip as she walked out, speaking quickly to her mother, free hand waving. Leandra followed easily, walking like the pretty ladies back in Tevinter. She was not born in the jungles of Seheron. She was from somewhere with money and stone walls. He turned back to see Malcom pouring the sweetened tea into some cups, sitting on the porch of the hut.
Like the storage hut, their shack was on stilts. Unlike the large Qunari settlement, their home was ugly, run down, and seemed mismatched. But Malcom smiled as he let his legs swing at the edge of the porch. Fenris moved and curled his legs beneath him, making a point to sit beside the mage, at arms length. He did not have his sword anymore, but he did not need it. And Malcom did not know that, he assumed.
"So how are you feeling? Two days of sitting in our little storage shack, you alright?"
"Fine," Fenris repeated, eyeing him as Malcom passed over the cup.
"Marian's good about wounds. Her and Carver get in scraps often, and Bethany isn't always around. My big girl can stitch a wound," he said, sounding proud. "Course, her bartering skills are sub par."
Fenris sipped the tea, watching him. Since he didn't say anything, Malcom just continued.
"Carver isn't much better, really. But he won't stay behind. And it's not like we need him here."
"You are aligned with the Fog Warriors?" Fenris said finally.
"Aligned? More like we have a treaty. We aren't fighting with them, really. Ever. My family hasn't killed anybody except in defense." He shrugged. "But between the Qunari and the Tevinters around here, we tend to ally our trade with the Fog Warriors."
"Are there many like you?"
"Like us?" Malcom scratched at the stubs of hair on his chin. "Outsider clans, all just living through the days? I haven't met any others. But, I don't travel very much. We found this little plot of land, and I've not strayed very far. Marian and Carver do enough of that."
"You sound displeased."
"The Tevinters have been making some hard pushes lately. And the Qunari push back even harder. And the Fog Warriors helpfully throw rocks and shaking their butts like monkeys at both armies. Of course I don't like my kids out running around with all that." Malcom gave a gusty sigh. "But I'd have better luck kicking a jaguar in the mouth and out running it than keeping either of those two from frolicking out in the jungle. Getting them to stop dragging Bethany around has already been a trying experience."
Keeping Bethany safe, fighting to keep her safe. Fenris noticed the singularity of that, and the thought that their mage daughter was the one they fought for. But he said nothing. It made perfect sense to him. What didn't was that it seemed almost subconscious, from listening to Malcom. Odd, but not worth mentioning. Fenris set the cup down, and after a moment of struggling, he finally said, "Thank you."
Malcom hummed with a smile, staring down into his cup. "You're welcome." After that, they sat in companionable silence, something Fenris was not used to but found that he enjoyed.
It was like that until Bethany and Leandra came back, the basket dripping river water. They walked up, both dipping to give Malcom a kiss before entering the home. "Lunch soon," Bethany called, glancing this time at both of them. Fenris hunched, feeling again like he didn't belong.
Malcom grunted as he stood, some joints popping as he stretched. It was easy going, Fenris noticed. Malcom made his way around to the animals- most likely stolen- and took care of them. Leandra and Bethany sat in the home, gossiping and cooking. Everything seemed to be surreal. At least, until Marian and Carver came strutting in. Because that was the only way to describe how Carver was walking. Marian had a mango in her mouth, her hands busying themselves with slapping Carver and juggling the bundles she carried. Carver was just out of arms reach, carrying the rest of the mangoes, there weren't that many, and his own, slightly larger, bundles.
Finally getting her bags under control, Marian was able to remove the mango and wipe away the excess juice trailing down her chin. "You're such an ass, Carver," she called, somewhat quietly. It was likely she didn't want her mother hearing that language.
Carver just had a pleased smirk on his face, jogging in to the opening and up the stairs. He glanced at Fenris, who simply watched, before tossing him a mango and disappearing inside. Fenris caught it, just quick enough to keep his hands gentle around the mango. There was a strangled roar and Fenris glanced back to see Marian making a face at the hut before stomping towards the storage.
When she came out she was carrying a simple small leather bag. She grinned down at him, passing it over. Fenris made sure his hands were clean before taking it. "Some things we got you. A few wraps, mostly, and some nuts. I personally find the nuts and mushrooms from the northern end amazing, but the Qunari keep them rather guarded. Keep the whole damn area guarded. But the rebels had some. Don't let Carver steal yours. He's already eaten all of his nuts." She turned to slip inside the house, right up until she saw him staring at the wrap, his dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he unfolded it. "You don't wear wraps in Tevinter." It wasn't a question so Fenris decided not to respond. It was exhilarating really. "I didn't know what size pants really to trade for, so you got some wraps. They match your eyes," she said with a grin.
Fenris stared at the green color of the wraps, staring up at her incredulously. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he glared back. Rolling her eyes, but smiling, she motioned for him to stand. "The wrap will fit better than the pants. I promise." He folded the wrap quickly before standing as she motioned. "And they're a lot more comfortable when you're just moseying around. Trees are thick and keep most of the heat at bay, which we're lucky for. But the humidity makes leathers and clothes in general unbearable if you don't need them."
She took the wrap and began tying it around his waist, over the pants. He watched dutifully, having to agree that the trousers he wore had been uncomfortable. Tevinter was never humid. Not like this anyway. The sticky weather had the trousers clinging to him. Unlike the ladies', the wrap stayed tied and twisted around his waist, firmly in place, amazingly. Bethany and Leandra wore their wraps, faded and ends torn unlike his, tied up and tucked around their shoulders, hiding everything improper. Fenris had not seen enough women on Seheron to know if this was usual, or something a city born like Leanddra brought with her.
Marian gave his hip a pat as she stood. "That's how you do it. Right, at least. Covers everything and whatnot. Of course, you can get lazy. Da will be able to give you some tips if you want them. And Carver can teach you a dozen cheats to make it easier. Course, he's been caught airing himself out unintentionally a few times too." She shrugged. "If you just want to slip the trousers off, I'll hand them off to Beth when I go in. Three people in there already, it's going to be unbearably stuffy. An invalid like you shouldn't have to go through that." She smiled and it took him a minute to realize she was teasing. He thought at least. A moment later and he realized she was only teasing about the invalid part.
"Or, you know, you can take the trousers off in the shack. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." She shrugged. Apparently he took too long. It was probably for the better. Her lack of modesty and personal space to the body, naked or not, made Fenris fidget. He had honestly thought she was jesting before. She turned and made her way into the house, and a yelp told him that Carver had received his payment. The young man stumbled out, wearing his own wrap now, tied far looser than the one Fenris wore, and glared over his shoulder.
Carver turned and eyed him, swallowing his chuckles at finding him wearing pants and a wrap, before hopping off the porch, forgoing the stairs, and trotting over to the animals. Malcom and him began speaking, the younger one trying to push the pigs away so he could get the trough and feed them. Malcom leaned on their rickety fence, laughing at his son's efforts. Or perhaps the face Carver made. Fenris wasn't sure.
The next weeks were the best that Fenris could remember.
Day seven he walked out in his blue wrap, idly scratching at the wound across his abdomen, making sure Marian or Leandra weren't around. Carver had not been lying. Marian and Leandra both had slapped at his hands. Leandra with a peculiar expression that made him feel completely ashamed and schooled. The three giggled, calling it "The Look". A look every woman developed when she became a mother. Marian just clicked her tongue and slapped his wrist, glaring at him and telling him to stop. Both were affective. He didn't itch when they were around. But the minor magic used from Bethany and the salve Marian used had his wounds healing quicker than natural and that made them itch.
He quickly let his hand drop when he saw Marian stretched out on the porch, a book in hand. He hadn't known they had books. Not that it mattered. Slaves weren't allowed to learn to read. He glanced over to find Malcom walking over with a fishing rod and a spears resting on his shoulder. "Is your hand better?" the mage asked.
"Better."
"Want to come fish with me? Instead of sit around here fighting off the ticks and mosquitoes?"
"I will then fight them off with my feet in the river?"
"At least you're feet will be cool. And I got some tea to go."
There was no way to refuse that. Except, "I do not know how to fish."
Malcom's face dropped. "You can't fish? The shame of them Magisters. Can't fish," he grumbled, shaking his head. "You're going to learn how to fish, my boy. That's not an offer. C'mon." He slapped Fenris's good shoulder and began the trek out to the river. Malcom hummed a song Fenris did not know, but it was a nice calming song. The whistling was beautiful, and the bobbing of his sandy head made Fenris smirk as he followed. Malcom knew where he was going, but he glanced around, and stopped to point.
Fenris followed the finger, as silent as Malcom, finding the one giant tree he was pointing to. Every tree was huge, higher than most buildings from Tevinter, and the branches and vines stretched out, wrapping around each tree, creating a beautiful canopy that let in only ribbons of light. Lounging across some of the branches was a panther, a large reptile under his paw, his tail twitching. The brown green lizard was ripped open, a meal for the panther. Malcom smiled at Fenris, who stared up in awe, even swiping away at his hair to get a better view.
Malcom smiled, turning and continuing to walk. "The jungle is dangerous. You want to look up to enjoy the beauty, forgetting the beauty down at the ground. The flowers, the plants, the trees, the roots. But it's all so dangerous. All the beauty, it's dangerous as the void. So you look to the ground, to protect yourself. So then you got everything from above dropping on you and looking to scalp you before you can scream."
Fenris glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Mostly it's not the jungle you have to worry about jumping you from above. I've had some monkeys get angry at me, and Marian and Carver both have some horror stories. But generally, it's Qunari and Fog Warriors you have to worry about coming down from above. I've never been jumped by a panther."
"Marian and Carver have?"
"If they have, they were smart enough not to tell me." Malcom gave him another bright smile before continuing with his whistling and a jump in a step. The mage was confident in his step, almost graceful as he walked the animal trail. He'd walked this trail forever though, probably. It was not surprising he'd be able to walk it so well. They heard the bubble of the river long before they saw it. Once there, Fenris watched as Malcom scratched at the stubble on his chin, pondering as he glanced up and down the river.
"Well, there are likely to be more fish down there," he said,pointing, and then continued, "but there are some very fine rocks to sit and bask on up there." He glanced back at Fenris.
"Then we should go to the fish," Fenris said, as if it was obvious. It should have been.
But Malcom hummed and glanced up to the rocks. "Let's go sit on the rocks, Fenris." Malcom turned and made his way up the river. Fenris stared from his broad back, down the river, and then back again. Malcom glanced over his shoulder, started whistling that tune, and nearly disappeared. Fenris jogged to catch up, teeth grinding as his injuries gave complaint.
When he caught up, he glared at Malcom. "The fish are down the stream you said."
"I did."
Fenris continued to glare. "Then why are we going up the river?"
"I prefer the view. And the seats. Overall it's just a nicer place."
"But we are going fishing."
"We are." Fenris gave a growl, quiet, and he glanced up at the mage to see what he would do. He was a free man now, he could, couldn't he? Make his displeasure known was not a crime of a free man. Malcom just laughed. "Lot's of men go fishing, not realizing that it is not fish they are after."
"What?"
Malcom gave him a smile. They came to the boulders and Malcom tossed up the spears. He handed the rod off to Fenris, hoisting himself up. Sitting on his haunches he reached down and Fenris handed the fishing rod up to him. Hand still extended, Fenris waited and considered the hand. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up without the help. Malcom lost his smile, an eyebrow raised. But he said nothing.
"You can get the rod," Malcom said, passing it over, "and I'll spear the fish. Eventually."
Fenris glared up at him as Malcom got comfortable. The blonde stared drinking his tea, uncorking the ceramic and humming. Fenris untied the net, setting it beside him. He unhooked the box full of the bait and began trying to work the hook and the string. Except his hands were not made for the finesse of this. Of the flimsy rod. His hands held broadswords and tore hearts out of chests. His hands were rough and calloused. He fumbled with the hook, glaring at it.
Malcom enjoyed the scenery as he continued to fumble, until after a moment the older man stopped to just watch Fenris's hands. It was embarrassing, and Fenris dropped the hook and growled. "If we are not here for fish, than what are we here for?"
Malcom chuckled. "You need to relax, my boy." Fenris wasn't sure why he called him that, but that would be a topic for another time. "Fishing is grand. You sit here in this beautiful place, and pursue the the elusive and yet so very attainable. Always in a perpetual state of hope."
Fenris's brows furrow as he glared up Malcom. "I don't..."
"Ah, don't listen to me. Fishing turns men into philosophers." Malcom rolled his shoulder and picked up the hook. "And I've always been told I talk to damn much. Fishing has to make me just unbearable huh?"
Fenris shrugged, watching as Malcom strung the hook. "You just got to slow down, Fenris. Relax. Fishing isn't supposed to be stressful. Unless, you know, the family is starving and this is all we got. But that's not happening right now, so, stop stressing, my boy. Nobody is relying on us to bring home a fish the size of a Qunari's forearm to feed the baby."
"You do talk a lot," he said finally, taking the hook back.
Malcom tossed his head back with a laugh. "Good to know you side with my children, then, Fenris." Fenris smiled a little, shoving a worm onto the hook and glancing back at Malcom, who nodded. "Generally, there's an art to the flick of the wrist to get the hook into the river. But, right now, just toss it in. I'll teach you the wrist flick later. When you have wrists to flick."
Fenris glared up at him for that, but he dropped the hook into the river, and the two of them sat on that boulder as the sky turned to a salamander red, the forest darkening considerably around them. Fenris found himself whistling a tune he didn't know, and Malcom simply bobbed his head with that same bright, honest smile.