(Prompt ~ They were playing hide and seek when he disappeared. She spent the rest of her life looking for him.) Fenris and Hawke.
Sunlight grayed as the clouds above prepared for yet more rainfall. Leto wandered about the docks, ever wary and in awe. His Master was deep within sleep on board their ship, which had made port on some sort of Magisterial business of which Danarius was apart of. It is what had brought them here, to this strange land.
Leto's youth and curiosity had bested him, causing him to sneak away and wander. Simply for the pleasure of knowing more about this new place to which they had come. Everything that he could see from the railing of the boat had seemed utterly peculiar. Far different than the world he knew back home, which was a long way away across the sea. And, despite his usual knack for obedience, he could not manage to restrain himself.
If he was not careful, and his Master found him missing, he would face severe punishment. The knowledge of what could await him, twisted his gut in fear and hammered his heart into a frenzy. But, he could not miss this chance to discover. And so, his feet carried him further and further, his eyes devouring everything his vantage showed him.
The cobblestone towers, all the still pools reflecting the sky from the ruts in the mud of the roads, wild unkempt grass a deeper shade of green then any he's known, and needled trees with rough wood boughs and sparkling sap. Beneath him the earth smelled of rain, deep with the musk of growing things. Horses, sturdy in build with feathered tassels at their hooves stamped the ground. And, always, there was the sound of dogs baying.
He stopped to pluck up a flower, yellow as the sun that hid behind a veil of storms. A weed no doubt, bedecked in a mess of wispy golden petals. It stood out in boasting glory against the dark hues of the wilds around it. A cheery splash of color amongst all the darker tones of seeming lonliness that was this world. Safe within his grasp, he stared at the white milk that bled from the stem into his palm, uncertain what it was. He had only begun to puzzle it out when he was knocked and pinned to the ground.
In panic he began to flail, a scream caught in his throat. A blur of dusky blue grey had pounced upon him, and he was certain it was some wild beast that intended to devour him. He braced for the shredding of his flesh by sharp claws and fangs, only to be assaulted by a slobbering tongue which bathed him with a strange and different kind of fury. Leto realized it was only a dog, a puppy at that. Somehow excited to meet him despite the fact he was a stranger.
"Fae, no! Come on now, stop smothering him..."
The enthusiastic mabari was pulled from atop of him, allowing him to regain his feet. Turning his eyes, he caught his newfound company by the irises. Flashing silver orbs of clarity and focus, sharp, but gentle around the edges. It took him a moment to look away and bow his head as he ought to. Offering up his apologies in hope for mercy.
"I'm the one who should be begging your pardon," the reply forces him to look up, "After all, I'm the one who couldn't stop Fae from pouncing on you."
A girl no older than himself, with flowing hair as pale as a full moon, and skin like ivory. Perfect for a place where the sun does not beam strong and burn the skin. Her accent told him she was Ferelden, a native to this foreign kingdom. Although, her hair color was unusual, even for this land. At least from what little he had seen. But, he dared not ask.
She stooped to retrieve the basket she had misplaced in her attempts to free him of her hound. The puppy had been circling them since, tail in a flurry of motion, and whining for attention. The cargo of the woven straw consisted of wild strawberries and apples, which he tried not to eye with desire. His rations had been small of late, due to a lesson concerning refusal issued by his his Master. Her gaze caught his appetite's plea anyway, and she lifted one out and handed it to him.
"Think of it as compensation for the start we gave you."
He stared at her a moment before taking the gift and eagerly devouring it, uncertain that he should. But too hungry to deny himself the taste and sustenance of his favorite food. He nearly ate the core with all the rest in his desperation.
Instead of moving along, the girl stood watch. As intrigued by him as he was by her homeland. He figured she must be awaiting his gratitude and he bowed down humbly, expressing it clearly as a good slave should. It did not satisfy her, although it did please the mabari to have access to his face for more licking.
"Where do you come from?"
Her voice had such an odd tone to the edge of it. A smattering of bewilderment and a hint of concern drawing him up from his groveling for worry of creating offense. Still he kept his eyes low, unlike before, trying his best to keep his manners no matter how strange she seemed.
"I hail from Tevinter, young Mistress."
He hadd not kept her waiting for an answer.
"Are you lost? I can help you find your way."
"No, young Mistress."
A smile touched her lips, humorless, but the curve of her mouth was pleasant. He saw it on the edge of his vision as he watched carefully for her approval.
"You may just call me Allora, I am not royalty nor am I a noble. I am just apart of the common folk."
"Would it please you?"
"Um, yes... I suppose so."
She seemed at a loss for understanding, and a moment of awkward silence passed, heavy on his shoulders. He did not speak to ease this burden as he was not addressed and it began to suffocate him beneath it's weight. She rescued him at last, by offering him her hand and inquiring of him if he would like a guide. He refrained from the offer of her touch but, did not refuse to be shown more of her Ferelden landscape. Thus, he followed her and she ensured he did not stray.
She took him through the city, closer to the weathered towers standing sentry over the bay. She lead him to the hills, picking wild heather and clover as they walked and entangling them into flower crowns. One for herself, the other for her sister back home whom she told him all about. He came with her to the tree favored by her and her siblings, their hide away. An old and gnarled oak in the midst of dying with a hollow at the base of its trunk, and branches easy to climb. Before long, he had forgotten his place. She seemed no more different to him than the slave children back home and he lost himself, somehow, in her unending patience and calm manner. He played with her as he would the others of the house in their spare time, every second they could have together. And he cherished the ones spent with her just as much.
They raced through the grotto and she taught him to play a game dubbed 'tag.' They unearthed a truffle or two as they passed through the trees and her dog began to paw the ground where it smelled the presence of such a rare delicacy. Well trained in such a task despite its immaturity. She helped him gather more apples from the tree she had taken from, and he feasted, even gorged himself on them. He found himself rather fond of her, and Ferelden. Even if he missed the blaring sun and his own sister, he found himself wishing he could stay longer.
The greater part of the day came and went, all of it spent in the grasp of discovery. His Master always slept long and deep, made consistently comfortable by those who served him. Still, time was wearing short, Leto came to realize. He had been gone for far too long already. He nearly faced inevitable punishment as it was, only to have risked making it worse by staying longer. But, he had stayed. Just a little while longer. Long enough to say goodbye without regret.
"I will have to go... Allora," he offered her warning, "My Master will be displeased with me for being gone for so long, let alone leaving to begin with."
"Your Master... You mean the one who's tutelage you are under? Is he training you to be a soldier like my brother is training for?"
He had shaken his head. Her world did not have slaves, and so she could not understand. Soon he would have to go, and they could not meet again. He neglected to explain, he had not wanted her fun to end. He craved her pleasure and approval as much as Danarius'. She caused him to feel joy he could not explain and he wanted her to be happy.
"It is a decent comparison. But, do not worry. Would you like to play one more game before I return?"
"Yes!"
Her soft round face lit with a light as bright as any sun and his stomach fluttered with the wings of butterflies inside it, so it seemed.
"I would like to play hide and seek, if it would not trouble you. We play it all the time back home."
"Alright, shall I be it?"
"Yes. No peeking."
She gave out a gentle scoff.
"Of course I won't, that's cheating."
With a blush, he moved closer. They could not meet again, he would miss her. Very much.
"I like you, Allora. A lot. You're very kind."
His eyes trace stones on the ground.
"I like you too," she smiled, "You're a good friend."
"May I give you something?"
He almost could not find his voice, mumbling the words in anxiousness.
"What is it?"
"A kiss..." Quickly he adds, "of gratitude."
Suddenly, she seemed shy and he wondered if he had upset her.
"I guess..."
His throat tightens, "Would you rather I not?"
"No. No. Go ahead," she peered nervously at him from behind the curve of her hair which framed her face, "I've just never kissed a boy before. Except my brother goodnight..."
His blush deepened, but, he wanted to give her that token. So much. Leaning foward he placed a smooch to her lips, just like he would give his mother when greeting her or saying goodbye. Only different. Allora, smiled tenderly afterward.
"Start counting," he murmured.
She covered her eyes and, meekly, began to count as he left for his hiding spot. So she had thought. But he had left back for the ship and his owner. It was best she not face his Master's wrath for the sin Leto had committed. Running back while she counted for their game would keep her from getting mixed up in the mess he had made. It would keep her safe.
When the ritual had ended, and he awoke. Lost, without any memories; he had seen a lock of his hair from the corner of his eye. The color silvery white as a side effect of the lyrium implantation which he had not known until now. Instead of raven black it had become pale as the full moon, and it had always seemed familiar. A comfort. He could never explain why. Until now.
As the months went by after he and Allora Hawke had met, he realized she had come to recognize him. Or, at least, suspect he was the boy of her past. He could see that now. References she had made he thought he knew, yet could not find within his mind. Her expression on occasion when he did something Leto had done before. Some of his old habits surfacing through the barrier of dark that kept Fenris from knowing what came before.
And, as the memories began to flee, sweeping back like the retreat of a tide, this was the first memory that remained. A single day as clear in view as this one. The day he had finally given himself to her.
She had kept it quiet all this time, a secret. Perhaps to spare him of the complications it would bring. The trouble it has brought.
They were playing hide and seek when he disappeared. She spent the rest of her life looking for him. He knew it. Fenris knew she had been searching for him, his former self, through the years. And it shattered him, this knowledge of what had been in the wake of what now was.
Leto had thought she would eventually forget him, even as he had hoped she would remember him always. What Leto had felt blended easily with what Fenris now feels. Still, it is too much to bear. His thoughts in a tangle, he could not even begin to explain why the joy of finding her again, of understanding he has known her all this time, is dwarfed by his agony. He is as lost, confused, and afraid as he has always been. No more certain of himself now as he was when he had first awoken to emptiness and his Master. It erased the pleasure of his determination and acceptance of his choice to be with her. To lay with her and love her.
Beside him, Allora lay in slumber, oblivious to his turmoil. He did not dare wake her, or to share that he remembered. What good could it do now? He is Fenris, not Leto. The past was long gone, especially for him. He had nothing. It could give her nothing, give them nothing, but more complications. And, he could not stand it.
He could not stay this time either, he must go. Fenris no longer knows who or what he is anymore or where to go and what to do. He weeps in bitter misery. And, when the pain subsides and his body can move again, the markings no longer searing his very soul, he dresses himself. He again offers her warning of his departure when she stirs. And as he walks out her front door, she does not know he whispers.
"Keep counting, Allora. Count as high as you can. Then... Come find me again. I will be waiting."
Inevitably, he loves her. The only clarity he has in all of his confusion and fear. He is simply not ready for the game to end yet.