Dear Journal,
My life has never been easy. It's always felt like I've had to hide who I am. My sister Bethany and I, both being apostate mages, have lived our lives hiding who we are. I've never found being open with anybody easy. I think that's what drew me to Fenris.
I'm not a bad person. I'm not drawn to blood magic or even crime. I don't want to hurt people for personal gain. Which is why becoming a smuggler when my family evacuated to Kirkwall could never be my permanent occupation. When Varric caught up to me and Carver in Hightown and asked us to finance an exhibition into the deep roads, I saw my way into an honest living.
I raised money by saving the Viscount's son and clearing a mine of dragons amongst other things. Unfortunately, not all the jobs I took on to raise the finance were above board. I helped get poison onto the market for Isabela, smuggled a Quanari mage out of Kirkwall, and snuck into the Chantry to rescue a mage. But the most fruitful of my underhanded deeds began with my meeting a dwarf called Anso.
I met the dark haired and shifty figure on a dark night in Lowtown. I was asked to recover some lost lyrium which caused Aveline to glare at me warningly. Carver didn't look happy either – but then, he's never happy. But in solidarity with Varric, who was my ticket into the deep roads, I agreed to help the dwarf recover his stolen lyrium.
I entered a nearby hovel with my staff ready and poised. The moment I got through the door, we were ambushed by a large group of thugs. It wasn't without reason that I had brought Aveline with me. Despite disapproving of my endeavour, she took down several thugs after I froze them in place with a cone of cold, her sword and husband's shield working in perfect harmony. Varric mortally wounded several men with a shower of arrows from his trusty crossbow Bianca while Carver swung a massive hammer with all the eloquence of a blind hippo.
Once the inhabitants lie dead, and we had caught our breath, I checked the chest for the lyrium to find it empty. "Odd," I said to myself.
"Are you actually surprised?" Carver asked, looking very pissed off. "The shifty dwarf led us on a wild goose hunt. Probably needed some old friends getting rid of." Typical Carver – cynical as always.
"Make no assumptions," said Aveline, being diplomatic as usual. "There are many reasons we might have been ambushed over an empty chest. We should get back to Anso."
"Right, let's get moving then," I said to the group. "This place is depressing."
"It's like Gamlen's place," added Carver.
"Exactly," I responded.
After the onslaught of mercenaries in the house, I hadn't expected any more. So when a small group of soldiers stood right outside, I had to unsheathe my staff very quickly. "That's not an elf!" declared the group leader. I bit back the temptation to say 'no shit Sherlock' but didn't want to antagonise a large group of armed fighters if I could help it. Unfortunately, potential for negotiation was quashed when a soldier pointed out their orders were to kill anyone who left the building.
'Anso you son of a bitch,' I said to myself. 'You set us up!'
I charged into the onslaught, vowing to make Anso into a pair of dwarfskin slippers, and noticed with a jolt that some of the fighters were mages. What sort of group marched openly around with apostates? Or was this some sort of circle conspiracy? We all defended ourselves valiantly and made short work of the group only to have a soldier captain descend from the nearby steps and call to his lieutenant to bring more fighters. I was exhausted but I was galvanised by the idea of seeking revenge on the scrote of a dwarf who had put me in this situation.
It was with shock that I watched a dying soldier, bleeding heavily, stumble up to the captain. As he dropped to the floor, an elf came around the corner. "Your men are dead," he informed the captain. "And your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can." Master? Was the soldier a slave? Slavery has been illegal in Thedas for a very long time! The captain confirmed my suspicions.
"You're going nowhere, slave!" he commanded, grabbing the elf by his shoulder.
It was immediately obvious that a grave mistake had been made. The elf glowed brightly, blue lines crossing a swirling all over his body. I watched with a mixture of fascination, awe and fear as his glowing hand passed straight through his assailant's body, killing him quickly. "I am not a slave," he told the dead man.
The elf turned to us and I took the opportunity to get a good look at him. He was unusual. His hair was a shade of white which didn't match his years and blue markings etched his whole body right up to his lips. I found myself wondering how his lips would feel on my neck. He was slight like elves are but very clearly muscled and toned. Varric had been trying to send me up with a renegade healer mage named Anders, but I found myself very suddenly, and somewhat superficially, into handsome elves.
If the sword hadn't suggested otherwise, I'd have assumed him to be a mage. He had certainly been touched by some sort of magic. He turned to me and said, "I apologise." His voice was beautiful. Deep and resonating, I briefly wondered how it would feel to have him whisper my name into my ear. Shocked by my myself, I shook off the fantasy and paid attention to what he had to say. "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they'd be so…numerous," the elf continued.
"You were responsible for this?" I asked. There went my dwarfskin slippers. Shame this elf was too handsome to skin.
"I'm the reason you're here, yes." He confirmed. "My name is Fenris. These men were imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property. Namely, myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone. Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."
Fenris. What a delicious name. Little wolf. I briefly wondered if he was as wild as his name suggested before I realised the implications of what he had just said. He had been a slave, kept hostage and then relentlessly hunted by a mage. One of my own kind. I was sickened by what this meant and, despite the fatigue which battle had wrought on me, I was glad Anso and I had found each other. I felt like I needed to atone for the sins of another mage and protect this beautiful Fenris; his tortured past appealed to my protective side. I fought the impulse to take him into my arms, took a deep breath, and swallowed.
"If they were really trying to recapture you, then I'm happy I helped," I reassured him. I hoped I sounded genuine – I was afraid my lust was colouring my tone.
"I have met few among my travels who have sought anything more than personal gain," he said, looking browbeaten. "If I may ask, what was in the chest? The one they kept in the house." Oh. Yes. The chest. I'd been so dazed by the presence of this elf that I'd momentarily forgotten the events leading up to meeting him.
"It was empty."
"I suppose it was too much to hope for," Fenris said with a tortured look in his beautiful, green eyes. "Even so, I had to know."
"You were expecting something else?" I asked curiously. Fenris was a piece in a puzzle I was finding increasingly beguiling. I hoped to stay in contact. His life was a jigsaw I'd gladly spend time putting together.
"I was. But I shouldn't have. It was bait. Nothing more." I looked into Fenris's large sad eyes.
"You didn't need to lie to get my help," I told him.
"That remains to be seen," he responded. What did that mean? Was I to see more of him? Fenris bent down and searched the body of the dead captain. "It's as I thought. My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he leaves. I will need your help."
"If it means fighting more slavers, I'll help you," I told him. And then take you to the hanged man, get you drunk and seduce you, I added silently.
"I'll find a way to repay you. I swear it," he earnestly insisted. Was Fenris a prude? Would it be uncouth to flirt at this point? Suggest a fun method of repayment? "The magister is staying at a mansion in Hightown. Meet me there as soon as you can. We must enter before morning…"
And that, Journal, is how I met the man who changed me forever. Who made me into a woman and taught me to love unconditionally. What happened next, nobody could have foreseen.
