Hey All,
This is my first time actually posting something I have written for the whole world to see (I have quite a substantial number of fanfictions…but most are just horribly written messes that should never see the light of day. Ever.)
I'd appreciate any and all feedback
Disclaimer: Bioware owns all
The city grew larger as the boat neared the port, the captain's voice calling out above the cries of the seagulls and the creaking of timber. She had only taken command of the ship a few months ago but she already had most of the crew under her thumb, her seductive smile and poorly hidden assets winning half of them almost instantly.
A few had tried their luck with their new captain but her well placed dagger or a threatening look from her lover as he hefted his greatsword over his shoulder culled most lewd thoughts.
"It is very different from Kirkwall." Hawke said conversationally to the elf beside him as he regarded the growing city.
"Feeling homesick Hawke?" the elf asked as he lent against the balustrade next to the Champion.
The man snorted, "Hardly," he replied, turning so that his back faced the city, his golden eyes seeking out the woman at the helm "though it is an odd feeling returning to Ferelden after all this time."
"Have you ever been to Denerim?" Fenris asked; eyes still glued to the city.
"No." came Hawke's reply. "It'll be just like when I arrived in Kirkwall all over again," the man continued, "although, the company's changed since then."
Fenris flicked his eyes over to Hawke then to the Champion's lover, Isabela, behind him. He himself was now in a very different situation from what he had been when he first arrived in the City of Chains – so much had happened in those years.
"We're going to pretty much rely on Isabela when we reach the port." Hawke said with a sigh "Maker forbid some of the places she is going to take us – knowing her some of the places she frequented in Denerim were probably less than…savory."
Fenris grinned at the exasperation in the man's voice "Which means we are going to end up staying at a brothel." He said dryly.
Hawke groaned loudly "I know. As long as there are no elves like Jethann I think I will be able to deal with it."
Fenris recalled the male elf who had worked in the Blooming Rose in Kirkwall. Fenris had been present when Hawke had gone to meet the elf about some man's missing wife. In less than a minute in conversation with the elf, Hawke had been ready to run for the hills after being hit upon by the elf in at least every second sentence. Varric and Isabela had found the whole encounter with the elf immensely funny but if Fenris had been in Hawke's position he could not have promised that Jethann would have lived long enough to finish the conversation.
"Let us hope that we stay somewhere which is not a brothel." Fenris replied; although he knew that all his hoping would probably be in vain.
After docking her new pride and joy, Isabela had led Hawke and Fenris away from the port into the city. She led them through the streets before stopping outside a building, arms held out wide as she gestured to the place.
"This is where we shall be staying gentlemen." She said with a flourish.
Fenris eyed the faded sign that hung above the door; once again glad he had taken up Hawke's offer to teach him to read "The Pearl?"
"That's right, whenever I'm in Denerim this is where I stay." Isabela said with a wink.
"Which means this place is a brothel." Fenris commented flatly.
The pirate made a sound of indignation "Why do you always assume that the only places I stay are brothels? When we were in Kirkwall I stayed at the Hanged Man and that wasn't a brothel."
"But you used to frequent the Blooming Rose." Hawke added.
Her golden gaze slid across to her lover and she ran a hand down his arm "But that was before I met you sweet." She purred, "But yes, the Pearl is a brothel – one of the classier ones mind you."
Hawke let out a long sigh "Isabela."
"Oh come on." Her seductive grin appeared "It is not that bad and it's not like they're going to be throwing themselves at you here – as I said, this place is classy, they don't display their wares to just anyone."
"I fail to see how a brothel can be 'classy'." Fenris didn't even try to hide the disdain in his voice.
"If you are unsatisfied then you can just go find your own place to stay." Isabela grinned wickedly knowing fully well that he would rather wander around aimlessly for hours than to ask a stranger for directions, and with dusk drawing nearer he would probably be searching all night.
She smirked as the elf let out a little grow of frustration, leaving her lover's side as she strolled towards the door to the establishment.
Fenris felt a hand clasp his shoulder and looked up at Hawke who smiled grimly.
"We'll go and try to find another place to stay tomorrow." He told the elf, "just bear with it for now."
Fenris let out a long sigh before following the man into the Pearl.
While he had been surprised at how conservative the Pearl had been (although having conservative and brothel in the same sentence seem ironic), the heavy perfume and smoke quickly became overwhelming and Fenris found himself looking for an escape. He quietly excused himself from Hawke and Isabela, promising not to wander off too far, and left the Pearl as fast as he could.
He took a deep breath of fresh air as he exited the venue, trying to flush out the nauseating smell from his nose. While being an elf had a lot of pros, his increased sensitivity to smell had proven to be more of a hindrance than an asset in the past.
He stood outside the door to the Pearl as his head cleared, the dull throbbing behind his eyes fading to nothing with each breath he took. He began to notice that he was getting weird looks from the people who were walking past, he figured it was much to do with his strange appearance as it was to do with the fact he was an elf standing outside a brothel. He pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, hiding his white hair and pointed ears, before striding away from the Pearl.
About an hour later and, despite his promise not to wander off to far, Fenris found himself lost in the streets of Denerim. The city lacked the tiered levels of Kirkwall that allowed one to figure out which part of the city they were in. The only noticeable landmark he could see was the towering white stone of Fort Drakon, but his unfamiliarity with the city meant that the tower did not help him in the least.
He wandered idly, hoping that he would see something he recognized or some indication of where he was in the city. He didn't have much luck.
He tried back-tracking for the umpteenth time when a sound caught his ears, the sound of someone calling for help. He turned quickly and followed the sound deeper into the maze of streets, his pace quickening as the yells grew louder. When the cry for help cut off in mid-yell he broke into a run, rounding a corner to find a group of men surrounding a young elven woman.
The woman stared groggily at her surroundings, her eyes struggling to focus. A trickle of blood ran down her face from where the men had hit her. Fenris drew his sword and prepared to charge at the men. One of the men saw the motion and turned towards him, a smirk growing on his face as he saw him.
"What have we here?" he drawled to his companions, "A knife-ears carrying a sword, can't have that can we?"
One of the other men sniggered "Oh he looks angry, he might hurt us." He said mockingly.
"We should take that blade from him," the third one added "he might hurt himself."
Fenris took his stance, preparing to cut the men down when another elf appeared at the end of the street.
The elf froze as he saw the men, but his face reddened in anger as he saw the female at their feet "Dallyce!" he called out.
The female, Dallyce, lifted her head as she searched for whoever called her name "Brother?"
One of the men spat on the ground "You're a persistent little knife-ears aren't ya. I think we going to have to show you another lesson."
Fenris eyed the elf, noticing that his face was swollen and bruises were beginning to appear on his skin – he must have fought against his sister's captors before.
Dallyce's brother took a step back as the men drew their weapons and began to advance on him. The elf's eyes flicked wildly back and forth between the advancing men and his sister before they flicked over to Fenris. The elf's eyes lit up as he caught sight of Fenris' drawn blade.
"Please," he called out to Fenris "help me!"
The men stopped and turned to look at Fenris, waiting for the white-haired elf's reaction. Fenris hesitated; he was in an unknown city, facing a group of ruffians who may or may not have reinforcements nearby and he was essentially alone. But he could not leave the elf and his sister to the mercy of these men. He would have to cut them down before they got the chance to call for help.
Fenris raised his blade and met the gaze of the man closest to him; the man's features twitched "You made the wrong move elf." He spat and he began to stride towards Fenris, his blade poised to strike.
Fenris was about to charge when a green light emanated from beneath the feet of the men and their bodies froze in place. The men looked around them in fear as they struggled to move their bodies but to no avail.
Fenris looked sharply at the other elf, his eyes narrowing as he saw the green light fade from the elf's hands. Mage.
The mage hurried over to his sister and gave her a fierce hug. Dallyce, for her part, did not seem to have noticed what just happened in her dazed state.
The mage turned to Fenris, a smile on his face as his spoke, "Thank you, I just needed their attention off me long enough to cast the spell. You have done me a great service and you have my gratitude – it is not everyday a stranger will raise a hand to help someone in need."
"Especially when that someone is a mage." Fenris replied dryly.
The elf picked up on his tone and looked sheepishly away "Ah yes. We have built up a bit of a reputation for ourselves."
"A reputation that is not entirely unfounded." Fenris fought to keep the venom from his voice.
The mage opened his mouth to continue but he was interrupted as an armored figure came running around the corner from where he had appeared earlier, skidding to a stop as they caught sight of the mage.
"Leland!" the figure was a woman, if the voice was anything to go by.
Fenris watched as the mage elf, Leland, cringed "Comman-" he began.
"Don't 'Commander' me." The woman said as she stormed up to the mage, the gold embellished black gauntlet pointing at him "You were nearly unconscious when we found you and then you just upped and ran off without another word, what in the creators where you…" the woman's angry triad faded as she caught sight of Leland's sister.
"These men had my sister." Leland told his Commander, casting dark glares at the still paralyzed men "I tried to fight them but they knocked me down. When I came to, I ran after them. That's why I left."
The armored woman let out a long sigh "Leland, you need to let me know these things before you go running off then I can help instead of having to chase you across half of Denerim."
"My apologies. The elf over there helped me." Leland informed the woman, as if that fact alone would make everything all right.
The woman's helmeted head turned in Fenris' direction and she strode over to him. As she drew close Fenris noticed that the woman was small; she only came up to his chin. He found it very odd that a woman of her size was parading around in full plate armor, even odder were the two longswords on her back; they were normal sized blades but they were almost as tall as she. However, despite her size though, the woman cut an imposing figure in the black armor, gold highlights gleaming as she moved.
"I apologize for his incompetence and for him dragging you into this." The woman said; Leland let out a faint sound of protest from where he tended to his sister, "But at the same time I am thankful you were here so the fool mage could actually cast the spell." There was a faint accent to her voice but Fenris couldn't identify it.
"Had I had known he was a mage I might not have interfered." Fenris replied sharply.
"Might?" The woman asked "You would have left Dallyce at the mercy of these men?"
Fenris frowned at the woman "I would have not. I would have cut them down regardless."
"Then I am glad that Leland was here." The armored woman replied, turning back to the frozen men "We need those men alive…at least for now."
The woman spun away from Fenris and toward the closest of the paralyzed men. She studied his frozen form as his eyes flicked wildly around, circling him like a wolf circling its prey. She reached out and pulled a length of rope and a set of iron shackles from the man's belt, inspecting the objects.
"Release him." She commanded the mage, reaching out to grab the man by the shoulder as his body was freed.
The man spun quickly to strike at the woman; but she was faster.
She tightened her grip on the man's shoulder and threw the man into the nearest wall in one swift movement. He struggled to regain his balance, stumbling into the wall. The woman drew one of her longswords and placed the tip against the man's throat.
Fenris found his eyes drawn to the blade; the pale silver metal gleamed maliciously in the fading light and glowing blue lines pulsed as they ran across the length of the blade in a bizarre pattern. The lines reminded him of his own lyrium markings. The blade's shape was unusual, all points and edges compared to the sleekness of a normal sword.
He had never seen anything like it in his life – neither had the man it seemed, his eyes widening as the cold metal pressed against his skin.
"I suggest you think twice before trying anything again." The woman hissed menacingly.
The man nodded meekly once, eyes still fixated on the sword.
"Where were you planning on taking her?" the woman demanded, "Where are you holding the others?"
"What do you mean 'others'?" The man protested, "We were planning to have a little fun with the knife-eared wrench, that's all!"
The woman removed the tip of the blade from the man's throat, spun the longsword in her hand and hit the man in the head with the hilt, knocking him out cold.
"Wrong answer." She told the man's unconscious form, turning to the next man.
This man fell to his knees, hands over his head as his body was freed from the spell "Mercy!" he pleaded to the black armored woman "Mercy!"
The woman bent down and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. "Tell me what I want to know."
"By the dock, that's where we were taking her. W-we were paid to capture elves and take them to the dock." The man replied quickly "I don't know what they want to do with them, I swear. My mother's ill and I needed the coin and they're paying well. Mercy!"
"Where by the dock?" she shook the man violently.
"Near the Carpenter's Guild! On the southside of Guilver's Path." Came his whimpering reply.
The man fell back to the ground as she let go "Up against the wall." She commanded, kicking the man with her foot when he didn't move fast enough "Now!"
The man whimpered as he pressed himself against the wall, his face continuing to pale as the woman gave him instructions. When he had his face the wall, his hands up behind his head and his weapons thrown down the alley, the woman bent over his unconscious comrade and began rummaging through his pockets – Fenris was reminded of when he had first met Hawke; the warrior had been poor back then and relied mostly of quest rewards and rummaging through the pockets of the slain for income.
She pulled a sealed letter from the man's shirt, rising to her feet as she opened the letter and read. Her head spun sharply to look at the man by the wall and the still paralyzed man.
"Leland, release the last one." She said pointing at the man, "You, same thing. Against the wall, hands on your head and weapons over there. Don't you dare try anything."
The man sneered at the short woman but did as told; casting dark looks at the armored woman. The woman grabbed the unconscious man at her feet by the shirt and dragged him over to the wall next to his companions, dropping him unceremoniously next to the other two.
"Now there is no use lying," she informed the other two men "I know that you three are slavers."
The man who pleaded for mercy turned his head in alarm "I swear, we're not slavers!"
The woman waved the letter in her hand "That's not what it says here." She propped her hands on her hips as she addressed the man "Nice try kid, but you need to improve your acting skills before you can hope to fool me. The ill mother was a nice touch though."
The man's eyes hardened and he spat on the ground, "Bitch." He muttered darkly, turning back to face the wall.
"Do you know what the punishment is for getting caught enslaving a resident of Ferelden?" She asked the men.
The two remained silent.
"Shall I show you then?" the woman asked; Fenris could almost hear the smirk in her voice.
The pair turned to cautiously watch the small woman as she walked over to the unconscious man, drew the glowing blue blade and ran it through the fallen man in one motion. The man's body jerked a little as he suddenly came back to consciousness, blood trickling down the side of his mouth as he stared down at the blade protruding out of his chest. He grimaced and coughed once before his body became limp.
His companions paled as the woman pulled her sword from the dead man's chest. "It's the death penalty; although I think they hang criminals…or were they beheaded? Either way, slaver dies." The woman said almost conversationally, "So, gentlemen, die now or die later?"
The third man lunged at the woman, but his half-hearted attack was short-lived as the woman easily removed his head from his body with one swing of her blade. The bloodied sword was raised to point at the remaining man, almost daring him to try to attack. Fenris grimaced as the smell of urine hit him.
"What's your move?" the woman asked mockingly.
"Commander!" Leland cried out in indignation "You can't just kill them!"
The woman's voice was cold and harsh when she replied, "Leland, are you suggesting I let this man get away so he can warn the other slavers that we're on their trail? If they know then they'll just kill whatever elves they have imprisoned at the moment and set themselves up somewhere else. If we let them do that then there will be another girl like your sister who is attacked and swept away from her family and friends and enslaved in a foreign country." Her head turned slightly to look at the mage, her voice softening a little "Is that what you want?"
"I- no Commander." Leland said dejectedly, holding his sister closer.
The last man looked fearfully at the woman "Wait, does that mean you're going to kill me?"
"May the Maker or whoever you pray to take your soul." The woman said softly before swinging her blade quickly and slitting the man's throat before he had a chance to protest.
She stepped back as the man's body fell to the ground next to his dead companions. Fenris watched the whole ordeal detachedly; it felt like it was a play that had unfolded before his eyes. He examined the three dead slavers on the ground before looked back to the armored woman. His gaze met hers through the slits of her helm.
"Are you any good with that blade?" she asked "Or is it just for show?"
Fenris glanced down at the blade still in his hand, he had honestly forgotten had had drawn it at all. "I am good enough to kill slavers." He informed her.
"Up for some slaver hunting then?"
R&R Please :D