Not had time to write in over a year so decided to shake my feathers loose. This chapter was never originally supposed to be, so chapter 1 is now chapter 2 and nothing is probably what you think in this chapter. Next chapter time jumps, it's basically a retelling of DA2 but with a bunch of OC's added that have there own little adventures and criss-cross now and then with Hawke and co. Also… I may be flying by the seat of my pants most of the time.
This chapter is referencing David Gaider's fenris short story. If you haven't read it already, go and read it, or even just watch the mini-movie.
Chapter 1: Like a crab
Fenris mulled over the tasteless stew in his mouth, keeping his eyes firmly on the wooden spoon swirling the contents of his bowl. The tavern was buzzing with gossip, laughter and the slosh and splatter of drunks with mugs but he could still sense the eyes focused on him and the unasked questions that fluttered to the tips of tongues. He was an oddity here, an elf with enough coin to rent a room for the past several weeks and to top off the creamy golden desert he had the strangest tattoos that some swore glowed dimly and the stench of something not quite dead.
As the door to the tavern creaked open, allowing a cascade of orange afternoon light to filter in, Fenris's gaze shot up and watched in almost a trance like state as a lightly armoured body came forward. A woman with dark hair, pulled back into a messy ponytail, closed the door behind her and blinked in the chaotic bliss of the room. She had a light tan one got from spending a great deal of time working out doors, so it was easy to assume she was not of the lazy guard sort; more likely a mercenary. She wore a long chainmail shirt, simple bracers and a matching half vest plate in dull silver. There was an emblem in a deep blue on the vest that looked oddly like some impish creature mocking him; an insignia of her group he assumed. A short sword hung from her left hip and a knife gripped dark leggings on her right thigh; a warrior despite her short stature and lean look. As she began her first steps across the tavern he finally noticed her bare feet, forcing his knitted brows to soften with some realisation. He double took a look at the complete package then huffed with something close to amusement. She looked wholly human but there were slight dents in that façade that whispered hints at elven parentage being involved; or maybe she was just a short human in need of a good meal and some shoes.
Realising she was approaching Fenris slumped back into the dreary consumption of his stew and faked a rather convincing disinterest and loathing to the world in general. It had served him very well all afternoon if the empty stools on either side of his person were anything to go by. Apparently the woman hadn't gotten the memo, however, and came to a stand still to his right. The stool next to him creaked and squealed as she dragged it half-heartedly back a few inches and hopped up onto it's seat, resting her elbows neatly on the bar and bracing her chin on top of folded hands.
"Aeron?" The overweight barman fluttered his eyelashes, checking his vision was clear and in working order as he sauntered in from the back room, towelling a glass with a dirty rag. "Haven't seen you in a long run. That big taut lad- what was his name?"
"Dior?" The woman, Aeron, offered up with a quirk of her brow.
"Probably that. Probably." He fumbled as if embarrassed or uneasy as she watched him but then instantly calmed as she returned her gaze back down to the bar. "He here or you…?"
"No." She shuffled in her seat and cast a quick look to her left at the white haired elf grimacing through his stew. "On a run with a merchant ship. We're just stopping briefly to pick up some additional supplies then on to Kirkwall in the morning."
"I thought you and what's his face got married and stopped all that."
"No." It was a dangerous 'no' that made Fenris miss his mouth, getting tasteless stew on his cheek, and caused the barman to fumble his glass as she ground it out; almost daring him to continue his line of questioning. "I've missed Elessa's pie."
"Oh. Oh!" The barmen tugged at the new line of conversation like a lifeline before his face sunk into a pit of sheer horror. "You're the only one in all of Thedas that willing comes for the pie. But. We've only stew today."
"Oh." It was such a pathetic sound she made, laced with dashed hopes and endless suffering, that Fenris found himself sympathising for a moment before remember the conversation was about Elessa's torturous pie. "Well, I suppose that will have to do."
The barman disappeared into the back room once again leaving Aeron to drum out a disappointed rhythm on the bar. With a great sigh, she leaned back and cracked her neck in a sickly manner before looking at the elf to her left once again. Tracing the lines of his tattooed arm with her eyes her eyebrow steadily rose like a flag of curiosity as she wondered how extensive they were under his clothing. The sounds of someone clearing their throat in an annoyed manner reached her ears as she looked up to see green predatory eyes glaring at her. She blinked and the annoyance he showed turned to wide-eyed wonder before they both glared daggers and turned to the cheer of the barman placing a bowl of stew down.
Aeron picked up the spoon and nodded her thanks to the barman as he slithered away from the intimidating pair to refill some patron's tankards. She sniffed the liquid sludge on her spoon delicately and clucked her tongue in trepidation before ploughing the food into her open mouth. There was a pause, as she tasted the lack of taste, then tried to distinguish the indistinguishable texture before finally swallowing. She hummed in appreciation as the first mouthful settled in her stomach and tucked in heartedly. As she felt a disturbance next to her, Aeron peered upwards at the white haired elf vacating his seat. There was a look of confusion and utter disgust on his face as he mumbled several words that sounded like foreign cursing and stormed out of the tavern as if that was his normal way of walking.
Fenris spent the rest of the day outside thinking, watching, listening, but most of all walking haphazard circles around the town just tasting the air. He'd sensed the unrest for some time now, the change in the wind, that particular churn of foreboding that nestled restlessly in his gut. Those eyes watching, that incessant groan and chatter of unspoken words that built to a crescendo of ringing in his ears was now at its peak. He had to go, now.
It was dark when he finally returned to the inn, heading directly upstairs to his room and shut out the world. His few belongings were snatched up readily as he crossed the space and dropped out the window to the alley below. A scurry of rats squealed in terror at his landing and disappeared into hidden places and a vagrant snored damply a little further ahead among some debris.
Fenris reached for the great sword on his back as his senses opened up. They were here for him.
Amidst securing the mix match of crates and barrels on the ship, Aeron paused hearing the telltale signs of battle unfolding some ways in the distance. The screech of arrows, the clatter of heavy footfalls on loosened paving followed by the dull ting of metal upon metal. Feeling all curious nerves and ship guarding bravado, she pounced the ships hull to land with a light thud on the wood planked dock and strolled out to check for possible miscreants. It was at that moment a cloud decided to court the waning moon goddess and veil her from sight leaving Aeron aggravatingly in a dark, shadow filled world where the ocean chuckled in humourless jest.
A tall, lithe shadow danced across the dock, swallowing hard against heavy breathing and heading directly towards the solo woman frowning for recognition of friend or foe. She felt it before she heard it, the sudden exhale breeze that tossed violently against her throat followed narrowly by a great blade in its wake. A piercing ring almost deafened them both as her own sword picketed upwards in a desperate motion, lead by muscle memory, to pause the dark shadows killing blow little more than an inch from it's target. There was a pause of no more than half a second, muscles straining, teeth grinding, the stench of fear and sweat almost balling Aeron back with as much force as she was sure the dark figure could physically cause. As their weapons finally parted, each darting back into a well practiced stance the moon took a dainty peek around her lovers flossy shoulder, casting a semblance of light to twirl amongst the well rooted shadows. Aeron's eyes immediately found the trail of pale tattoo's that graced the man's uncovered regions, having mistaken their slight glow as the patterning of some hideous orlesian monstrosity in the earlier darkness. This was the strange elf from the tavern she surmised and by the look of curious bewilderment now staining the fear and hate in his eyes he had also recognised her. Red orbs stared at green before being plunged back into darkness as the energetic cloud took his lover the moon a second time. Somewhere close behind the frozen pair a number of voices called out in a mixture of tongues and thudded in desperate rage as their hunt brought them finally to the docks wooden planks.
Fenris's panic immediately overruled his previous thoughts as his feet stumbled forward ready to break out into a life preserving run but a hand thrust neatly against his shoulder pushed him backwards for a fearful moment where he thought he would fall unceremoniously on his ass. He didn't however, managing to catch himself and growled a low dangerous sound at the woman that had shoved him. Aeron didn't seem to register the sound as she then threw her arm out creating the appearance of a black signpost in the night and pointed towards a ship. The footfalls and voices behind him were coming dangerously closer, he didn't have time to think it through but he knew one thing for sure; if this was a trap he was going to kill the hunters that perused him and then take his time drowning this woman.
As Fenris threw himself over the side of the boat and ducked under some loose canvas between barrels, Aeron turned her position and appeared to be staring down the dock at something unseen. As the hunters reached her, a lantern was held to the side of her face but she didn't flinch, only tutted and turned her unsheathed sword in her fingers as if in some deep thought. As a well armoured man began to growl out his interrogation she cut him off with a sweeping gesture of her free hand.
"The strangest thing just happened." She mused aloud, the hunter throwing a pointed finger up to begin his previous words again but the syllables were annulled as she instantly continued her previous reflection. "Normally people want to kill me after they've got to know me, not before. Strange shit for brains elves with fucked up tattoos."
"Which way did he go?" The lead hunter's pretence at being a big scary man that eats children and shits out bears was quickly replaced by a giddy boy locked in a toy store persona at her words.
"Somewhere down there." She followed her enthusiastic nod with a finger point towards the far end of the docks then settled down to a huff and annoyed grumble. "Probably with those damn smugglers. You know the-"
"Out of the way!" Bear shitter was back in control of the reigns as he cut her off and gave her a not too friendly shove nearly off the side of the dock and into the sea.
As the group flew off into the night, taking their lantern with them, Aeron cursed several times as she stumbled about, stubbing her toe on maker knew what, and waited for her eyes to readjust to the sudden black ink of night she was plunged into. With a grumbled sigh and unrequested shiver at the icy ocean breeze she trod back to the ship and up the creaking walkway onto the desolate deck. The boat rocked soothingly from side to side as waves swayed to-and-fro against the mooring. It was still two, maybe three hours before sunrise and the rest of the world in peaceful semblance, so the aura of deafening silence coming from a collection of barrels felt unnatural like someone had taken a bite out of the universe. Not too softly, Aeron strolled towards the offending space at the stern of the ship and squatted down several paces back, just in case another sword to the throat incident might occur, to peer under the loose canvas.
"They're gone." She hummed and stood, turning her back on the lack of anybody void and leaned lazily over the side of the ships wooden railing.
There was a continued façade of nobody for a few minutes until finally a scrape and shuffle indicated the presence of a somebody. Sensing the heat erupting off his body, as she stretched out her arms with a delightful symphony of pops, Aeron stared sidelong at the furrowed brow and green eyes attached to the form propped against the railing. There was an uncomfortable, pregnant sort of quiet as the sea tickled the docks feet below them and his eyes flickered from side to side before settling back on her. He looked lost for words, like a very angry puppy that's been handed a knife and fork and told to grow opposable thumbs. Dragging in a breath he seemed to be about to finally speak when the sounds of screaming punctuated the air and drew them both to stare away into the distance.
A feint glow of distant lanterns or a fire fluctuated around a rocky formation beyond the furthest reaches of the dock. The screaming had originated from there but was now mostly grunts, thuds and indistinguishable cursing carried on the breeze. The fight was over fairly quickly and as the guiding lights extinguished Aeron found herself in the midst of a natural bout of laughter that threw her head back with its force.
"I see they found the smugglers." She snorted once some control had returned and pushed back away from the railing. "I wonder who won?"
"My pursuers are formidable." He frowned at the rocky shoreline, the bass in his voice causing a slight quiver in the woman's spine.
"Then they may have just saved me some work. Maybe I should go thank them." Her nonchalant grin froze at the stiffness of the elf besides her and then flattened into an impenetrable stare. "Why a-"
"Why did you help me?" He cut her question in two but kept his eyes firmly set somewhere far away.
"Why not?"
"That's not an answer." He rounded on her so suddenly she would have slipped off the side of the ship if his body weren't pressed so neatly against hers.
"Get. The. Fuck. Off of me."
She spoke with such a quiet danger it made him flinch as the blood red of her eyes reverberated through his soul. He took half a step back, removing the horrible pressure that pressed against her spine but kept her within easy reach in case he needed to throttle information out of her. This could all be a very convoluted trap.
"You wanna know why I give a shit about you?" She rubbed unconsciously at the slight bruise forming on her back, where the elf had forced her against the rough wood. "The answer is, I don't. I couldn't give a whore soaked in piss about who ever the fuck you are. You could throw yourself over board right now and drownif you like. I'll enjoy a nice glass of château don't-give-a-fuck 9:18 over your lukewarm corpse."
Fenris wanted to open his mouth and say something to that, but his frown was now in such deep embedment of his face he found his jaw clenched tight. This woman made no sense; it was just dribbling ranting venom with no conceivable logic when added to her earlier actions. He wondered for a moment if he was poorly translating her language but that didn't seem to be the problem.
"Château don't-give-a-fuck 9:18…" he finally mouthed, imagining for a split second pouring a glass for Danarius and his guests.
"Look…" Aeron sucked in a lung full of cold air and exhaled it fierce and warm, reaching the elf's bare neck and making him involuntarily take another half step back. "When an elf's running from a mob the mob is not usually humanitarian. And you don't look like a pickpocket. Take it or leave it."
"No, I am no pickpocket." A dangerous look flashed past his eyes, it should have made her uncomfortable but she was apparently unamused instead. His pride a little wounded he took a full step back giving them both some breathing room before he dared continue. "They are- were tevinter soldiers. Hunters looking for a magister's lost property, namely myself."
"A slave." She breathed with a whisper of a question and surveyed him deliberately before giving a curt nod of understanding. "Yes, I see that now."
"No, you see a free man." He barked, offended at her judgement. How dare she see a slave in his place.
"Skin deep, perhaps."
Fenris hissed at her flippant remark and caught her by the wrist as she waved her hand as if to brush off his precious feelings. Her head instantly snapped back from its previous position to glower at the elf's physical threat and then match his fury eye to eye. Before anything could be said, any move be made, the hatch leading to the bowels of the ship teetered open and a head poked out visibly catching the pair off guard.
"Aeron, Collin is on my case about you stomping around above his bunk and keeping him awake." The tired looking head suddenly sprouted a hand and swept his tangled mat of curling grey hair back into an increasingly bizarre hair-do. "Who's that with you?"
"Second guard." Aeron yanked her hand back from the elf's stunned grasp. "You know how Kirkwall pirates are, Cap."
"I-uh…" The Captain made several questioning noises as his sleep-deprived brain had an in-depth board meeting on finances and product management. "Right, yes. See your point, but I'm not paying extra. We settled a contract already."
"Mhm." She turned her back on the bodiless head with a shrug of agreement and waited till the thud, snap of the hatch closing punctuated the calm before pointing her fingers in a sign of rebellion.
"You shouldn't have-"
"Oh be quiet." She rolled her eyes but didn't bother facing the now brooding elf. "You need out of this place, right?"
"Yes, but I already owe you enough."
"Then let me keep your half of the pay."
"I'm grateful but I'm not that grateful."
"For sure." Aeron chuckled, turning around to face the elf again, elbows braced against the railing. "Doesn't mean much to me, anyway. I just wanted the ride to Kirkwall."
"You… live there?" Fenris wasn't even sure why he was interested; maybe it was the owing aspect of their newfound relationship or just the secret desire for normal socialising.
"Not in a long time." She shook her head, a sudden sadness washing through her eyes before being blinked away like old cobwebs. "But I figured, what with the blight and… other things… what better time to turn up unannounced on my grandmothers doorstep?"
"You're lucky to have the choice." His shoulders slumped slightly as he watched the distant horizon begin its first shaking steps towards twilight.
Aeron followed his gazed, admiring the fixed point before taking stock at the crestfallen appearance of the not-slave. She didn't want to push the question and he no doubt would resent being asked as much. What did anything matter anyway?
"Ah, fuck…" she breathed and stalked off across the ship before returning moments later carrying neatly folded blankets. "Take these, find a quiet spot out of the wind and get some sleep. It'll be very loud around here in a few hours."
Fenris scowled at the offending blankets that were shoved, unrequested, into his arms. They were rough and firm with salt, having been washed in seawater, and all kinds of unpleasant itchy. He grimaced at the thought of having to curl up with them but did as he was told non-the-less. It couldn't be any worse than sleeping in a slaves dormitory. Could it?