- 2 -
Betrayal
Later that day, Fenris stood in front of the HangMan's door. His body tense as he heard another wave of cheers coming from within. What lay behind the door, amongst the normal drunken patrons and curious onlookers would be an out of place elf. He tried to remember what she would look like, but could only recall their shared laughs as children. A certain memory Hawke had stirred up three years earlier. Frankly both women were troubling him equally at the moment. The first, because the elf in the tavern was his sister and she could very well be setting him up. The second... which shouldn't be as troubling as the first, but nonetheless was... was the bitter sting he had felt when Hawke refused to be here with him now.
Fenris couldn't blame her. Not really. Other than the off jobs they needed his ability to pass through objects and a heavy hitter, he hadn't seen or heard from her since the night he left her crying in her room after- He couldn't finish that line of thinking. It was hard, painful knowing Hawke never cried and he had done the impossible of making it happen. Even when her sister and mother died she hadn't cried. He gritted his teeth. I'm a fool. She had been the best thing to happen to him and he turned away from her after she gave him her heart. It hadn't even been a week after her mother's death. It was despicable. He had been a coward. Afraid of everything she brought back. Afraid of everything she made him feel. There hadn't been a moment since leaving her room that day, where that decision didn't haunt him. Leaving her crying and broken in her room. After all she had shown him. Kindness, friendship... her ability to look past almost anything. Instead he slapped all of this back into her face. Leaving Ander's to happily lap up the pieces as if it was milk like that cat he spoke so fondly of. What was his name? Oh... right. Ser-Pounce-Alot.
"I don't think the door is going to bite you Fenris," Merrill said from his side with a hint of playfulness in her voice.
He glanced wearily at the unwanted keeper from one of the Dalish clans. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him. In his greatest moment of need and it was a mage, one who dabbled in blood-magick (and the reason her clan did not want her, he might add) was by his side. She had been walking around the lower markets absent mindedly like she tended to do from time to time, when she had seen him and decided to tag along. The whole way she had talked excitedly about... something... truthfully he hadn't been listening. But Maker, the witch wouldn't even stop to breath. And the whole time she had chatted like they were best friends, when they both knew that couldn't be furthest from the truth. Sure, he had saved her life more times than he would like to admit and sometimes found her naive ramblings amusing, which were rare occasions indeed. The fact was: she was still a mage. Plain and simple. What made all of this that much worse was that she was a mage that saw nothing wrong with blood-magick. The most vile thing on the face of this Maker-forsaken world. Just thinking such thoughts made him see red.
She frowned when he didn't insult her back like he normally did, stepping closer. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing," he grumbled, frustrated that he couldn't even put his hand on the door's handle.
"Oh, don't give me that." She suddenly stood before him forcing him to meet her hazel eyes. "You, Fenris, aren't one to be hesitant of things... least of all the drunkards in Hangman..."
His scowl deepened. How could the naive elf still read him so well at times was beyond him. She had done that many times over the past decade or so and each time it only infuriated him more. Especially when she tactfully told him he was making puppy eye's at Hawke, even before he, himself, realized he felt something for the Champion. More than once he had wondered if she was playing them all. Pretending to be naive so that she could seem unthreatening. He had seen enough of her magick in the heat of battle to know that she was anything but weak. And really he would not put it past any mage. He had seen them do it countless times before.
He was looking to the ground sideways, trying to avoid meeting her eyes when he muttered, "My sister is in there."
She gave him a huge smile. "What are you waiting for then?"
Fenris opened his mouth to tell her it was more likely a trap but decided against it. If it was, there wasn't anything she could do. She was strong, but his old master was stronger. Maybe it was a good thing Hawke wasn't there... Sure, as a team they had toppled many monstrous foes. But Danarius was exceedingly powerful, had to be or he would have been killed a long time ago. And while Fenris had been able to kill Hadriana, she had only held her claim due to Danarius. Last thing he wanted was to get Hawke killed... Or worse! Become a slave for his tormentor. No. Definitely better this way. And yet, underneath this he still felt angry with her, knowing that whatever obstacle Hawke came across she overcame it without blinking an eye. If she rounded up all eight of them and they stood together, nothing could stand in their way.
"Fine, move." He gave the black haired elf an annoyed look, pushing away the unease.
Her smile deepened as she stepped aside. "Ohh... I wonder if she's anything like you?" She wrinkled her nose, making the Dalish tattoo's on her face look off. His hand grasped the handle. "Eew... another brooding elf. Varric will love that..."
Rolling his eyes, he pulled the door open and walked in. The stale smell of spilled mead, sweat, and piss rushed out the door hitting him instantly. Pushing away his disgust at the normal smell of this place, he scanned the tavern. His gaze first found Isabela, the always playful pirate captain in her usual spot at the bar laughing and flirting with a group of men. Figures. He really shouldn't have been surprised seeing her there. It disgusted him how easy she was and yet in another life he may have just taken advantage of that...
There was no denying that she was a looker with her dark tan skin, chestnut hair and warm amber-brown eyes. She had the curves men craved and damn if she did not know how to flaunt it. The woman didn't even wear pants for Maker's sake. Instead she teased them with a tunic styled bodice that just barely managed to cover everything. How she didn't end up flashing everyone in battle was a wonderment.
Dismissing all thoughts of the scantily clad pirate wench, Fenris' dark green eyes continued looking over small crowds of people as he walked further into the tavern, finally resting on a small elf off in the corner with red hair that would be impossible to overlook. Everything else was forgotten as the sound of laughter echoed once again in his mind and the images of them playing as children flashed behind his eyes. He walked blindly towards her.
Sensing his approach she glanced up, a pained look on her face appeared seconds later. "It is you..."
Blinking to clear the vision, he stopped at the table feeling completely breathless as his heart raced."I... I remember you. We played in Master's court yard while mother worked." He paused shortly, "You called me..."
"Leto... That's your name." She stood, looking away as if ashamed.
"Why are you-" A sick sinking feeling churned in his stomach, which quickly gave way to anger, his brows creased. "You betrayed me!" He had known this was going to happen and yet he still felt the bitter sting. (For the second time that day as well!) She refused to look at him as the tavern went still with his harsh words. All eyes on them.
The silence was abruptly filled with that dreaded voice that haunted his dreams so many times, "Ahhh, my little Fenris. Predictable as always..."
His sister turned away, covering her face and muttered into her hands, "I'm sorry it came to this, Leto."
Furious he glared at the back of her head, growling, "You led him here."
Danarius walked down the stairs casually, a wicked grin on his lips. "Now-now, little wolf. She only did what any good Imperium citizen would do."
His old Master stopped at the bottom, wearing a long blue elegant robe with silver embroidery and an expensive black wood staff in his left hand. The mere sight of him sent shivers down Fenris' spine as all the memories, the pain, and the torture came flooding back. It made him furious how just the image of this man made him feel so weak. There was a glint of wicked delight in his old Master's steel colored eyes... How Fenris wanted to wipe that smirk off the Magister's lips by running his long sword through him or plunge his hand through his old Master's chest and tear out his still beating heart with his lyrium curse.
"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius," he replied back angrily, his voice shook with the waves of emotion and his markings glowed somewhat. "But I will not let you kill me to get them."
The Magister frowned slightly, looking a little apprehensive about Fenris' show of power before he glanced back briefly at a cloaked figure who had descended the stairs with him. Fenris saw Danarius relax with the presence and chuckled at him, losing whatever fear he had. "How little you know, my pet."
Gritting his teeth, he tried not to drown in the helplessness of it all as Fenris looked to the hooded figure. It unnerved him that he really couldn't gather anything from them. The black leather duster they wore wasn't exceedingly loose, but it was enough that he could not gather what gender the person was. Their stance was guarded, yet relaxed. And that in-it's-self was the worst thing about the whole situation. He was suddenly anxious about this new person's presence. Who were they? What purpose did they serve? And why would their presence alone set Danarius' mind at ease when a room full of guards and his own mage powers wouldn't?
The only thing he could think them to be was... well... Fenris' replacement. This person could very well be Danarius' new bodyguard. That didn't settle well with him. Fenris had been the Magister's prized possession. His pet. He had spent a small fortune on Fenris to painfully brand the lyrium tattoos on his skin and while the Magister certainly could afford to do it again with another, Fenris knew his old Master would not. It was too much money for an 'if' chance that the subject would live. In addition, there was the little fact that he would have to get the permission from that sect he was in, for they were the ones doing the experiments. Then there was also the matter of his pride. Danarius somehow let a once perfectly loyal slave slip through his fingers and be on the run for roughly ten years. No doubt the other Magisters ridiculed him for that.
Fenris' thoughts were dragged back to the present when the vile old mage continued to speak, "You will return to me, Fenris, for you are my property. I own you." He gave Fenris a withering, dark look. "And I will not have you running around anymore." He nodded his head towards the hooded person behind him, a silent command to them and obeying, the mysterious figure stepped forward.
Merrill stepped next to Fenris unexpectedly, her normally cheerfully voice surprisingly dark, "He isn't a slave... He is our friend." He wanted to cover his face with his hand at the last bit of what she said, but refrained. Danarius did not care if she was his friend or not. Yet, he couldn't get over his surprise that she had truly stood up for him.
He was further astonished when Isabela sauntered over from her perch by the bar. "You'll find, Dana... I can call you that right?" She continued ignoring the flash of anger in the Magister's eyes, "That Fenris has many friends in Kirkwall and that we don't take lightly to you thinking he is yours." She winked at Fenris as she stood next to him before fixing his old Master a displeased look, her arms crossed at her chest as if she were relaxed but he knew by her stance she was ready to pounce at any moment.
"My my... seems my little wolf has become rather popular with the ladies..." Danarius brushed off her insult.
Varric's booming voice jerked everyone's attention except the hooded figure's to the top of the stairs behind them, "Indeed my poor Bianca here..." The dwarf patted his crossbow that was resting on his shoulder. "Would miss that broody elf. Now leave the HangMan... unless of course you want her to put hundreds of tiny holes in you."
Danarius laughed harshly after a few seconds of silence, startling all of them. "This is too perfect..." His cold gaze fell on Fenris as the horrible sound stopped. "I know all about your friends, my little wolf. Merrill, the dalish keeper turned away from the clan because of her blood-magick practices. Isabela, the pirate wench who will sleep with anything on two legs and I would not be surprised if there were sometimes four..."
"Hey! I do have standards," she started defensively, but then her voice trailed off, "...I'll have you know."
"And then there is the enigmatic dwarf behind me, who's own brother turned on him in the deeproads because of greed." His smile broadened into a wicked smile seeing their shock. "Only to become insane by the very thing he stole." Without turning back to look, he addressed Varric, "How is finding that missing lyrium artifact going, by the way? I'll give you a clue, it's far closer than you think."
Fenris' fists were clenched at his sides, while just moments before it had been because of rage was now due to him holding back his fear. "How do you know this?"
"Oh, I know many things, my pet." His eyes glinted with sinful delight. "Tell me, how is Miss Hawke? Certainly she's being kept busy by that man you detest so." He chuckled at his distressed look, "How do you like being replaced by what you yourself call an abomination?"
Fenris didn't know what to say. His sister tricking him to meet her, leading him right into Danarius' trap was one thing, but there was no way she would know all this. And it made him wonder: Just how much did his old Master know about his life here in Kirkwall and those around him. More importantly... How did he know? Sure, Varric told stories every night in the HangMan about their adventures, but one would have to dig through all the lies and glorified rubbish to distinguish the truth from it all.
Danarius shrugged. "If you must know..." He then reached for the figures hood and started to pull it down as he continued speaking, "My dear Sarain here was the one who gathered every piece of information she could about you and your friends this past month before my arrival."
The hood fell away and a crown of raven hair, even darker than Hawke's -if that was at all possible- spilled out from underneath. The woman had been staring at the floor when Danarius' revealed her to them and ever-so-slowly she looked up, her emotionless vivid jade eyes focusing in on him. Fenris felt like he was falling into them as they bore through his soul. The woman was beautiful, exotic even with her sharply angled face that almost made her appear not elven. Her eyes were somewhat smaller than most females of their race and were shaped more like Isabela's than Merrill's.
"She is also the bodyguard who replaced you." Fenris blinked, his old Master's voice freeing him from her stare and he forced himself to look away. "Without anyone even noticing her, she watched all of you. Even followed on some of the jobs this supposed Champion of Kirkwall does," he snorted with disgust at the thought of doing simpleton work. "Go on, Sarain, tell them what you told me as the reasons for you going on those pathetic jobs."
"We were bored, My Master." Fenris couldn't help but shiver hearing her empty voice and he looked back up at her. "It was easy to learn everything about them in this tavern, through those they had helped and the contacts they kept."
Danarius laughed, "She even had time to deal with five clients of mine that were giving me issues."
She was the one responsible for those burnt, disfigured bodies found in the harbor and Darktown? There had been nothing left to identify them... And elites, how had she managed to kill five whole families without anyone noticing their absence? Fenris wanted to be sick as he watched the vile mage brush the woman's hair with his finger tips and stared fondly at her. This woman was the reason why Danarius was so relaxed. The Magister would only accept the best. Never would he take a bodyguard that was not as powerful, if not more powerful than Fenris. To him that would be like down grading. If she could bypass all of them and not alert anyone, even him, then she really did have to be good. Most of their contacts knew next to nothing about them and those they did give information too they trusted with their lives. How then did she get them to talk? His gaze went to Varric, their eyes meeting briefly. There was concern in his eyes and Fenris knew that the dwarf was thinking along the same lines.
The Magister continued, "Sarain is a master at almost anything you can think of so do not feel so bad, my pet, that she found everything out with such ease." His gaze shifted back to him. "With that in mind, I suggest you give yourself up without a fight."
Fenris felt so powerless, the same inevitable feeling crashing down upon him. All these years of running and here he was, defenseless to do a damn thing. He didn't know what edge she had when it came to fighting, but you could bet she had one. Was she like him? A lyrium tattooed being? As far as he could tell she wasn't. He would feel it. But if she was anything like him when it came to fighting then everyone in this tavern would be slaughtered if Danarius decided to set her free.
He glanced at Isabela who was shifting nervously. Then to Merrill, even she knew their situation was dire. Lastly he looked back to Varric. These people meant so much to him and just now he was realizing how much. Sure, they irritated him, some more than others in Merrill's case, but he had spent so many years fighting by their sides protecting each other that he learned to actually care about them. He did not want to see them die. And it was that revelation that was most painful of all. Just when he realized that and even accepted it he was going to be torn away from them. Now he found himself wishing he had accepted Varric's offer last night and played a few games.
Merrill stepped in front of him, the free hand not holding her staff started to spark with electrical charge. "Do not dismiss us so easily, Shem."
Withdrawing her daggers Isabela fell into her fighting stance next to Fenris. "Kitten is right. If you know so much, then who do you think helped to kill your precious Hag'riana?"
A brief moment of rage passed over Danarius features before he gained control of himself. "Yes. My dear Hadriana... I will pay you in kind for that, my pet. Now Sarain, will you please kindly give them a demonstration. I grow tired of this place and it seems nothing that has been said has deterred them any."
The woman started to unclasp her duster. "What manner of demonstration do you have in mind, My Master?"
She let the coat slip off her shoulders, revealing what she had been wearing underneath, which was a form fitting black hard leather bodice with a dark maroon long sleeved shirt beneath that. She wore black pants made of some other material and dark tan boots that went slightly up past the knee. Strapped to her hips on two crossing red belts were twin daggers and down along the side of her legs were a few throwing knives and other small weapons. In all, she painted a rather menacing look.
After tossing the coat to a chair, she went down on one knee and pulled out a hand crafted six inch wooden stick with a razor point tip from her boot. As she stood again, she pulled all her hair back, twisting it into a messy bun before securing it with the stick. In doing so she revealed her ears which brought to his attention again, that she looked far different from his race than he originally thought. Never in all his traveling had he come across someone with ears that were elongated an inch more than normal and curving up somewhat. Then there were the tips. It was like if someone touched them they would prick their finger and draw blood they were so pointed.
Danarius lips turned up a little as he answered her, "How about we clear the room some, Sarain? It feels rather cramped."
Her jade eyes scanned the crowd of people gathered around before settling on Fenris again. "As you wish, My Master."
Sensing their doom some of the patrons started to back away, those being the ones who didn't fight or were cowards, while the rough lowlifes and thugs glared at her, pulling out weapons hidden on their persons. There were six men that stood out especially, glancing between each other with growing confidence and snickering at the fact that she was just a small woman. What harm could she do? But Fenris knew better. It was foolish for them to judge on appearance alone and would surely be their undoing.
"Let's see what you got, girly," said one of the men smiling as he stepped forward, revealing teeth that had certainly seen better days given their rotten yellow decay.
Fenris got this sinking feeling in his gut when the woman called Sarain looked sideways at the six men, tilting her head slightly as she appraised them with indifferent interest. She again looked back at him, dismissing the man as a threat and instead kept her gaze on the one she viewed was. The smile on the man's face faltered with the blatant disregard for him and the other men behind him.
Growling angrily, he snapped, "Aye girly, we are your opponents right now, not them." When she continued to ignore them, he lunged at her.
If Fenris had blinked he would have missed what happened altogether as the woman moved with lightning speed, pivoting on her feet silently and intercepting the man's attacking knife by catching his wrist. She brought her other arm up with a swift jab and a sickening snap could be heard throughout the room as she broke his forearm with her elbow before pulling him down by the shoulders into her knee. He remained there, bent over in pain as she took a few steps back, letting him regain his composure. His pain labored breathing the only sound in the whole tavern.
"Y-You won't get away with that, girly," the man managed after a minute, straightening and holding his broken arm. "Come on boys."
The five men charged her and she slid her foot back into a fighting stance, waiting for them to get within range. She ducked the first swing and came up grabbing the attacking man's arm. Twisting it painfully, she forced him to drop the sword as she stepped next to him. Then she back fisted him with her left hand before moving behind him and slamming her foot down on the back of his knee, shattering it. She kicked him in the back with enough force that he slid into the far wall, hitting his head and breaking his neck. Killing him instantly.
"Hm." She tiled her head to look at the dead man, scratching the back of her neck and looking surprised that it happened.
It gave the other men a moment to pause, but not for as they sprung after her, crying out harsh words, upset about their dead friend. Her back was to the next two that were attacking her, but it mattered not for she turned swiftly with a round-house kick that hit the left one sending him into the second and toppling them both into a table. She nodded, find how much she had to hold back.
The next few minutes were embarrassing to watch as she easily dodged the five remaining men, moving with a grace one could almost characterize as a dancer. She broke a few more arms and dislocated two shoulders, but except for that one man, she didn't kill any. Only knocking them down so that they could get back up, angrier then the last time and attacking again. It was like a cat playing with mice. It was that pitiful. She painfully out classed them even without any weapons. The whole time she had the ever subtle grin on her lips, hinting at how much she was enjoying herself at their expense.
Knowing this made Fenris uneasy. The woman herself needed no weapons for her own body was one. Never had he seen someone fight quite like this. Sure, fighting hand-to-hand was not unheard of, there were some groups out there that trained to fight without weapons, but this was a whole different level. Then there was something else that was making him edgy. His skin hummed slightly, telling him magick was being used, but as of yet he had seen no sign of it. All the same, the faint smell of fade reached him, agreeing with his other senses.
"Idiots," Isabela hissed under her breath for only Fenris and Merrill to hear right as the woman dropped to the ground and swept two of the men's feet out from under them. "Can't they tell she's just toying with them?" He glanced at the pirate, who watched with a grim frown. "If she wanted she could have killed them all within a minute... look at how fast she moves."
Fenris turned his attention back to the obviously unfair fight, unable to agree more. And then that was when it clicked. Her speed. She was using magick to increase it. He wasn't sure how or with what abilities, but that was what she was doing. There were times when she moved at speeds even he could not reach with his lyrium abilities and was just a blur to his own senses. But this... this was not natural. Mages didn't fight up close. They kept at a distance like the spineless cowards they were. How did she learn how to do this? His mind was reeling with the realization, unable to wrap his head around it.
She dodged one of the men, kicking him with another expertly executed round-house to the face, forcing him to land on another table and broke it. The other men were groaning loudly as they slowly picked themselves up from the ground. Danarius sighed, "I enjoy the entertainment, my gem, but stop dragging this out and finish them already. We have other business to attend to."
She turned her head slightly to look at the Magister, giving a nod of understanding. "Of course, My Master."
Given the kill command, she wasted no time as she suddenly sprang forward, jumping silently with her right foot onto a table before lunging herself off of it and at one of the men who had just managed to right himself. She slammed her elbow into the side of his neck, breaking it with an audible crack that made the guards and those few patrons who remained cringe. Fenris had felt the magick she put behind the hit, adding more force to it. So not only did she use magick to increase her speed, but her strength as well? That was a frightening though. Yet an even scarier notion was... Could she still do what every other mage could from a distance?
The woman's feet hadn't been on the ground for even a second or two when she starting positioning herself for the next man so that she faced him. He swung, aiming for her chest when she pulled her left dagger out with her left hand to block, then with flashing speed she withdrew the right and sliced his sword arm off. Flipping the daggers in her hands so that she held them normally, she attacked his exposed neck with little resistance and not even waiting to see his head and body separate, she turned towards her next victim. Using her momentum from it, she threw the dagger in her right hand at one of the three men behind her. The poor sod didn't even know what hit him when the blade sliced through his neck all the way to the hilt, severing his spinal cord. A second later she was on the man, having followed the dagger as it moved, and jumped onto him, planting her knees in his chest while she grabbed her dagger's hilt. Then using his body and her magick as if it were a wall, she pushed off and arched her back into a flip, landing firmly on the balls of her feet and bent her knees to absorb the landing, with only the ever faintest thump.
The last two men hesitated. And rightfully so, this... this monster... this she-demon, just killed three men in maybe half of a minute, if that. Slowly she straightened, looking at the men with a cold, calculating look. She brought one of her daggers up, holding it sideways so that a flat side of the blade faced her. Taking her eyes from them, she focused on the blood that was dripping from it. A vortex started to move around the one that remained at her side, starting at the hilt and going down the blade, collecting the blood as it went, becoming a red swirl. When it reached the tip the vortex stopped suddenly and the blood splashed to the floor.
Dropping the clean blade and using magick to make it stick in the wood floors, she reached up. The tip of her pointer finger touching the side of the blade collecting a dab of blood before letting her arm that held the sword relax back down at her side. She focused back on the two men as she drew a curving line with the blood on her left cheek, starting just below the eye and snaking the mark all the way to her chin. At the same time another vortex appeared on the second dagger, collecting the blood and making it splash to the floor with a sickening splat.
It was clear she was playing mind games with everyone in the room. Trying to intimidate them. And it was not much of a surprise to find that it was working. One of the men, the one who first got his arm broken by her, took a step to flee, but she threw the dagger remaining in her hand. The blade sliced his cheek just before embedding itself into the wall, stopping him. Wide-eyed the man turned slowly to look at her, the smell of fear thick in the air, not just from him but everyone. She had not missed accidently.
"You are an imprudent fool, perhaps you should join you're friends." She threw her hand forward, facing him with her fingers spread and as her palm started to glow yellow, the same glow surrounded the man, lifting him an inch or so from the ground. Her glare turned frightening as her face set in deadly determination. "We dare you to call us girly again..." She rotated her wrist as she closed her hand into a fist and Fenris could feel the waves of magick flowing from her. "... in the vacant abyss," she hissed out and the man cried out in pain just before she threw her hand down and open, and he was torn apart before them. Blood and gore flew the radius of five and then some, hitting both guards and patrons alike.
She was breathing noticeably heavier a few seconds after as everyone stood around with horrified expressions, realizing what just happened and with that realization some wiped or shook off the deceased man's blood as if it were a snake. The last man was shaking with fear as he brought his hand up and cleaned his face. Bringing his hand back down he looked at it, knowing there was no escaping his fate. He was going to die by this she-demon's hand. Fear and self preservation spurred him forward, lashing out at her and catching her off guard. She just narrowly dodged his sword, the blade barely slicing her left arm. She evaded the next two swings with ease before rolling with the third and kneeling right next to the dagger she had left in the floor. Quickly she pulled it out with her right hand just before the man attacked.
Her dagger may have been a foot or so shorter than the man's sword, but as they exchanged blows back and forth one would have never been the wiser. Again she toyed with the man, not taking obvious gaps in his defense. In fact she hardly went on the offensive, parrying and blocking as she seemingly danced from foot to foot. The woman finally grew bored after a few minutes and switched to offence. She overpowered him, the man almost unable at times to block her. She still didn't take any of the open gaps in his defense, but it was clear the fight would soon come to a close.
If Fenris didn't dislike mage's so much and she wasn't Danarius' new bodyguard, he might have openly showed his admiration for the woman. He himself, was fast and light on his feet, but he focused more on strength. And while he could take down a horde of enemies, he normally came out fairly banged up. Something told him, if she really tried... she could kill the same horde without a scratch on her person. It would have to take a group of well coordinated powerful people or luck to take her down. It made him wonder whether if the whole gang was there, if they could do it. Perhaps, but he still felt so weak compared to her, een though, he had years upon years of self training and what his body knew of fighting before his memory was taken from him... The way this woman moved, it was like her whole life was fighting. Like it was the only thing she did.
The woman disarmed the man, his sword clattered to the floor. But before she could act upon it he brought his arm back with one more desperate attempt at survival and punched her in the mouth, catching her by surprise. Or did she let him do it? Her head merely snapped to the side and Fenris could see a small protecting shield shimmer, absorbing most of the force. He realized then that the he hadn't been seeing things when he saw the same shimmer when the man managed to cut her arm. What else could she do? Already she used magick to increase her speed and strength... and now a source of protection? Not only that, but clearly she could still cast some magick from a distance. How much though remained to be seen.
Brushing the punch off, she plunged her dagger into his chest and held him close, saying something that made his eyes widen in shock. With disgust, she twisted the blade before pushing him off it and the man fell to the ground, dead. Fenris couldn't help but wonder what she had said to him. Even his sensitive hearing hadn't picked it up. But did it really matter? Not really. This woman was the enemy. One of the worst yet. He wouldn't be surprised if she had let some sort of demon take her body for this power, or in the very least learned all this from one.
She cleaned her dagger again with the vortex as she licked her split lip that was bleeding slightly. Frowning, she brought her free hand up to touch it and a faint green glow circled her fingers. A few seconds later the glow stopped and she wiped the blood off on her sleeve of her forearm, the wound gone. She brushed a stray hair behind her ear and put her dagger back in its sheath before looking at the slice on her arm. Again the green glow developed over her fingers and the wound healed. With that settled she walked towards her other dagger still in the wall to reclaim it. As she neared, everyone... including the guards, backed away from her. You would have to be insane not too after seeing what she could do.
Of course the woman would have to be a healer as well! How in the world was Fenris supposed to defeat someone like her? No one could be all powerful without a weakness, but with the powers of a mage and her skills of a deadly fighter alone... the task seemed impossible at best. His head fell, eyes shifting to the floor and he took in the five dead bodies and the gore left over from the last. The only thing he could think to do would be to overpower her and give her too many things to worry about. Her pool of magick could not last forever. Not to mention that shield that hugged her body like a second skin wasn't impenetrable. It also looked like she had to stop and concentrate to cast any intermediate and major spells... that was a rather huge opening.
He looked up as she walked back towards Danarius, her other dagger back in its sheath and all healed up. Thinking about it, maybe there was a way to beat her, but it certainly would take a lot. While the men she had just killed had been foolish and weak fighters at best, she had kept track of every single one of their moves and when she didn't she almost appeared to have a sixth sense.
The woman came to a stop somewhat before and kiddy corner to her Master. He grinned, his eyes glinting with bloodlust. "Ah, thank you, gem, for that lovely show." As he spoke, she turned her head slightly looking back at Fenris, keeping the threat in her sight.
Merrill stared at the woman with wide-eyed wonder. "Y... You're an arcane warrior..." All eyes went to her and she did not pay them any heed as she continued breathlessly. "... just like in the old Dalish stories. B...But that's supposed to be a lost art."
"Yes," Danarius spoke, drawling with a small delighted purr. "Isn't she a beautiful specimen." The Magister stepped to the woman and brushed her face gentle with his knuckles. "She uses her powers to increase her speed, strength and durability. She can even at times enchant her weapons to carry an element of her choosing, though there has been little need."
Fenris' brows came together. "How?"
His old Master shrugged and chuckled, "Truthfully I do not know and really do not care. She was an amazing find four years ago when I learned who was making the streets in all Imperium cities run red and I simply had to have her," he sighed, "It was rather unfortunate that the mysterious slavers who created her had originally sold her to Magister Devius and well... you could say he like to lone out her many talents quite frequently, at times playing both sides of a Magister dispute." He snorted, "He was a fool to use such a gem so carelessly. It got to the point that the Imperial Archon was about to intervene, use his elite guard to capture and execute her for the sheer number of lesser Magisters' she had killed." His gaze fell on Fenris, the amusement eminent in them. "No one was safe from her if she was ordered to kill them. No fortress could keep her out for she could intelligently bypass any defense in place."
"So you saved her from that fate and now she follows you loyally," Fenris bit off angrily, disgusted.
Danarius just laughed and the four friends shared uneasy glances. "I would like to think she is as loyal as you used to be if not more, but..." He grabbed the woman's right arm suddenly, turning her roughly to face them as he pulled down her sleeve revealing the crimson mark of a blood spell on the inside of her wrist. "Whether she is or not she has no choice. She is bound to me with the strongest blood-magick out there. If I am hurt or killed, her life-force replenishes what is lost or she dies with me. If she gets too far from me without my consent, she dies." Clearly not liking being handled, she lightly jerked her arm from his grasp and pulled away. "And the best part is that she has to follow my direct orders or pain will seize her," he sighed with disappointment, "She has not ever disobeyed me, but..." A dark curl smile appeared on his lips. "I can evoke it anytime I wish."
Fenris knew that smile and was not surprised when his old Master raised his hand. The woman's eyes widened a fraction when the red static ripped through her body, forcing her to take a staggered step forward to catch herself. The surprise vanished quickly as she gritted her teeth and her brow creased with discomfort, trying to ride the pain out and remain standing. As the seconds passed, Fenris could feel her own magick through the blood-magick, trying to counter its effects. After a couple of minutes she glanced up, meeting his gaze with her guarded one.
"Rather resilient isn't she?" Danarius chuckled harshly before putting more magick behind it, causing the red sparks to jump and crackle. "I just love how she tries to fight it. Never had I a slave do that and frankly it never really gets old even after four years."
With the increased blood-magick, he felt her counter-magick rise, but it was clear the pain was still affecting her concentration and thus unable to hold onto it as well. She was breathing heavily from the strain and drain on her body, sweat beading on her brow. Her gaze fell to the floor, her clenched fists white from trying to stay standing and not give in. He didn't understand why she didn't. Why endure the pain a moment longer when he would stop if she all but gave in? It didn't make sense.
He had been watching her, unsure if he should feel any sympathy for her given what she was, when he noticed the black tattoo that covered almost all of her left hand made more noticeable with the white as she clenched it. The tattoo was detailed, beautiful with its curving design that appeared to continue up into the sleeve. It was just normal ink, but there was something about it... something important. Yet, what that was he didn't know.
"P-Please stop," Merrill's voice shook, her expression pained just watching the woman suffer. Isabela and Varric looked just as upset. Did he not tell them countless times what Danarius and Magisers were like? Even if their slaves did everything to please them, they still tortured them.
His old Master looked at them, pleased that it was troubling them. "Sarain, drop your magick."
Fenris' scowl hardened, looking from Danarius to the woman, while Merrill gasped. She had to obey or suffer more. At first she tried, but then bowed her head and whispered softly before letting her magick go, "Antepasados, dáme forza." It sounded like a lot like the elven language to him, but never had he heard those words before... Where was this demon from originally?
Without the counter-magick, the blood-magick ripped through her body and try as she may she couldn't stay on her feet. A pained grunt escaped her as she fell to one knee and leaned forward onto her right hand, panting in short shallow breaths.
"Stop. Why are you doing this?" Isabela asked, shaken. "She did everything you asked... why are you punishing her?"
He laughed at her and stated simply, "Because it's amusing and I feel like it." Isabela paled. It didn't matter if what a Magister did made any sense as long as they enjoyed it. "And I have not seen her in three months, it's always good to remind them who is really in charge, you know. After such a show of strength I think now is as good of time as any."
Unable to stand it anymore, Merrill charged a lightning bolt and threw it at Danarius. And as she had hoped, he was forced to stop hurting the woman to cast a fire ball to block the bolt. He glared at her as he snapped at her, "Now that was not very nice. Perhaps you need to be taught some manors. Sarain, get to your feet."
The woman went to do as he commanded, but her shaky knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Danarius frowned at the sight, but Fenris could only feel hope. If this woman was out of the fight, then maybe they could bring him down. Yet... at the same time, despite how much he tried not to... he did feel something akin to pity for this woman. His eyes lingered on her as she slowly tried to sit up, painfully reminding him that that had once been him. When things went wrong or Danarius wanted the sick amusement of tormenting someone, it was she who took all the torture and pain. He knew this only because that was how it was when he had been in her place. While he disliked mages and even more so with her different magick that made her seem more a demon then an elf, he wouldn't wish Danarius on anyone...
Fenris sneered, "Seems you pushed amusement too far, Danarius."
"That it does." He shrugged carelessly. "Does not matter, I can deal with you just as easy without her. Varania, get her out of my way." Trying to force down his rising pity for the demon woman, he watched as his sister jumped with Danarius' command and went to the woman's side.
"Hn," he snorted with disgust. "Wasn't the whole point of this show..." He gestured to the dead as Varania helped the woman up slowly and walked her to the corner of the room. "To make us not want to fight her? And now you just neutralized her? Perhaps I should thank you for making killing you easier."
"I grow tired of your disrespect, slave." Danarius hit the bottom of his staff on the ground with anger. "I think it's time you learned your place and what better way than to kill you friends."
Fenris, Isabela and Merrill dodge a fireball that hit the patrons behind them, burning them to a crisp before their charred bodies could even hit the floor. The room became chaos then as the other guards moved to attack them, keep them at range while Danarius could attack from a safe distance. Patrons rushed towards the door, or back up the stairs, fleeing in fear, while a fewer number stayed to fight. Isabela rolled easily to her feet and charged the nearest guards, pulling the shadows around her and becoming near invisible to sight. She grabbed a smoke bomb, tossed it into the crowd and appeared silently behind one. As her twin daggers stabbed into his back, the man cried out in pain adding to the noise and confusion.
Fenris rolled to his feet as well, keeping crouched down low he pulled his long sword from its sheath on his back. His eyes first falling on Merrill in front of him who, in a less graceful way, managed to get to her feet and started to fire electric bolts and conjured boulders at Danarius. It appeared his master saw her as the main threat. Varric's loud booming voice rose above the racket, calling out taunts at the guards as his Bianca cut them down. It seemed his friends had made his choice for him. He had to fight. Even if the chance that they won this was slim at best.
Giving a low growl, he threw himself into battle, swinging his broadsword down upon one of the guards and slicing him in two before he could attack Merrill. He felt his lyrium markings come to life as he engaged the next two that charged, blocking the left one with ease and blasting him back with a wave of lyrium energy. He then turned on the next one who had caught the edge of the blast, knocking him slightly off balance and leaving him open. Before the man could regain his footing, Fenris was in front of him, his hand glowing blue as he phased it through his armor and chest. Re-solidifying his arm, he yanked out the man's heart and threw it away, his attention going back to the first man.
When that man too fell to the floor dead, Fenris paused, taking in his surroundings and the battle. Isabella and Varric had almost finished off the last of the guards, and it also appeared Merrill was holding her own against his old Master. Perhaps there was a chance after all. He had to get Danarius down, however, while the unwanted keeper knew some blood-magick and was adapt at lightning and earth spells, she would not last forever against him. His eyes focused in on Danarius, his rage rising. How should he go about it was the question. Surely he had his magick barrier up... he would have to wait until Merrill attacked before he could get through.
Fenris' gaze then shifted to the side where his sister and the woman were. The demon-woman was sitting on the table as his sister tried to heal her, looking better than before but still clearly feeling the pain. Her eyes were on him watching him closely and seeing the position of her body he knew that if she had to she would attack to save her master's hide. A person didn't just stand up to such pain only to let a blood-curse kill them. Then there was this look in her vivid green eyes. She would be trouble if he did manage to break through the barrier. But he would cross that line when he got there.
First things first, he had to get ready for any openings. Moving quickly, he positioned himself out of Danarius' line of sight, attacking or knocking down a few remaining guards that got in his way. From the corner of the room, he watched and waited. The last three guards Danarius had brought with him being taken care of easily by Varric with an explosive arrow and Isabela with her normal back stab attack. When she was done she crouched in the opposite corner, her eyes meeting his and gave a quick nod. She had his back. If his attack failed to go through or if Danarius new bodyguard deflected it, then she would get him. All they needed was an opening.
"Mythal'enast!" Merrill yelled out, blasting a powerful charged lightning chain at the Magister.
Taking that as his cue, Fenris charged bringing his long sword high over his head as he jumped up into the air. Aiming for the top of his head, he brought his blade down only to be stopped by the barrier a foot from his head. Not only had it caught Merrill's attack, but his... Could Isabela break through the magick bubble like Hawke generally could? Steadying himself after being knocked back his eyes went to the pirate rogue, just barely making her out as she moved with the shadows. She lunged at Danarius' back, for a second Fenris almost believed she would to it... that she would break the protecting bubble like Hawke did countless times before, but just like him, Isabela crashed against the shield and was tossed back.
The Magister threw back his head and laughed, "Fools. I am one of the most powerful Magisters of the Imperium. I can count on my two hands alone those who are stronger than I."
Merrill glanced between Fenris and Isabela, reaching her limit with normal magick. She knew they disproved of her using blood-magick and that Hawke had asked her to not use it, but there was nothing else she could do. With grim determination she pulled out her small dagger with her free hand and slid it across her palm. Using the welling blood she cast a spell, restoring her mana reserves by using the blood of the first. Holding her bloody knife out before her she then turned her attention back to Danarius, if they couldn't get past his shields then they would have to resort to darker methods. Drawing her strength to her she started to chant the spell for wounds of the past, it let her past the barrier and to the Magister's blood, using it against him and hurting him from the inside out.
Fenris blinked when Danarius barrier wavered and he groaned in pain as his remained rigid. As if he were paralyzed. Confused, Fenris looked to Merrill, then frowned realizing what she was doing. His skin crawled with her blood-magick and he was not happy in the least that she had used it, but... His dark green gaze went to his old Master. It looked like it had worked. Danarius had dismissed the unwanted keeper as weak, not once considering that she would use blood-magick on him. While he didn't like or approve of it, it still worked and it was the best chance they would ever get at bringing the Magister down.
Not waiting another second he charged his old Master, angling the great sword for his neck. His blade passed through the weakened barrier with the help of his lyrium and just when he thought it was all going to end, pain ripped through his body as something hard hit him and he was thrown back with such an amazing force it threw him across the room and into the wall. With the air thoroughly knocked out of him, he slid to the floor onto crumpled rocks, dazed. Unsure what happened.
"Elf, you okay over there?" Varric called out to him as Fenris tried to sit up from the floor.
Still confused, he looked up seeing the dwarf firing at Danarius' new bodyguard who was fighting against Isabela. No longer was Danarius' shield weakened, in fact it looked even stronger than before and Merrill was panting heavily staring wide-eyed at the arcane warrior mage. His eyes fell on the broken up rocks and hazily he pieced it all together. This Sarain finally made her move, he had been foolish to disregard her even if she was in pain. Clearly she had not only batted him away with her own conjured rock formation, but overpowered Merrill before taking on the feisty pirate and Varric.
Slowly he managed to get to his hands and knees and absent mindedly brought his hand up to wipe away the warmth on his cheek. Bringing his hand down, he found the warmth had been blood. Most likely from a cut, which he could feel burning. His eyes went back to the battle before him, once again the feeling of the inevitability of it all crashed down upon him. Yet this time... it wasn't Danarius. If it had only been him they would have killed him. Especially if Hawke had been there, it would have been easy. But this Sarain was more than what the four of them could handle. Maybe if Hawke, Sebastian, Aveline and yes... even Anders were there. He couldn't believe he was thinking that, but he knew with all of them together they probably would have had a chance at beating her, especially with her hurting like she had to be.
The woman back flipped, kicking Isabela in the chin as she barely dodged Varric's arrows, two below her and three above, with one barely nicking her stomach. Springing on her hands, she landed on her feet soundlessly and stood before throwing one of her daggers into the floor, impaling it there. With her hand then free she faced it towards Varric. Her hand glowed a greenish color and above the dwarf a grouping of rocks appeared.
Fenris didn't understand why she wouldn't just conjure up a giant bolder, only to realize his friend could still be in danger of being hurt. "Varric, watch out!" Varric looked up just as the rocks fell on him and he disappeared underneath.
Breathless, he could only stare. The dwarf couldn't be dead... just couldn't be. But when no sound came from the pile of rubble and Merrill started to sob, crying out to Varric... He had been their friend. Fenris couldn't believe that the loud and at times annoying dwarf could really be gone. Yet, how could he survive all that weight? He may have been a dwarf, but he was a surface dwarf and even they had their limits. While he knew all this, just the thought that he was dead was still so hard to grasp.
"Isabela!" Merrill yelled, jerking his attention away from the rocks to the pirate and Danarius' bodyguard.
They stood at the far wall, with Isabela's back pressed into it. Mouth dry with fear, he grabbed his sword and started to stand, but when Sarain stepped away from the pirate, pulling from her chest a crimson dripping knife, he knew that she too would not survive this day. Already he could see her blood gush out, staining her cream top. Yet, what he couldn't understand was why her warm amber-brown eyes were focused solely on the arcane warrior. It was almost as if she were listening to something the woman was saying as she slid down the wall onto the floor. He saw something flash in her eyes, but the distance between them made it difficult to make heads-or-tails of what it was. Her lips moved then, it looked like she asked, 'Who are you?' But he wasn't sure and had no chance of hearing anything when Danarius' laugh echoed through the tavern having gained back his breath.
"Foolish child. Playing with blood-magick." His cold steel eyes settled on Merrill. "I will show you what real blood-magick is."
The Magister sliced his hand, his blood pooling on the ground before him and his hands glowed red as he drew upon its power, his chanting filling the air just seconds before Merrill's screams of pain. He flinched, watching as Danarius drew out her death. What could he do? He was alone. Varric was crushed under a mountain of rubble and Isabela was sure to die from that wound in her chest. And while Danarius clearly had seen better days, the fact still remained was that his bodyguard fed him her own life force. To kill him he would have to go after her and while she was winded and in pain, he doubted that he could kill her. He had no experience with an arcane warrior mage. Wouldn't even know where to begin...
His eyes went to the woman then, who was looking at Danarius with a small scowl on her face. Next to her Isabela was saying something frantically to her that he couldn't hear over all the noise, perhaps trying to get the woman to help them. But the pirate simply didn't understand. The woman couldn't do anything directly against her master. She couldn't hurt him for it only hurt her... even now he could see the strain from Merrill's own blood-magick. A few red blisters on her left chin and her hands proved their connection. Nor could she disobey a direct order.
The woman tilted her head slightly, looking down at Isabela and Fenris could see her saying something before holding out her free hand. It glowed a yellow-green briefly and Isabela's body relaxed, her eyes closing. At first he thought she was dead until he saw the chestnut hair in front of her mouth move. Every other sign told him she was dead, even her chest hardly moved... Frowning, he glared at the woman. Fenris didn't understand why she would put Isabela to sleep. To ease her suffering perhaps? But why?
Her brilliant jade eyes fell on him and for a few seconds regarded him before glancing to Merrill and back. Confused, he looked to the unwanted keeper who was still screaming. What was she trying to get at? Yes, she too was probably going to die. What could he do about that? Then it clicked. He had to get Merrill out of Danarius' sight. Yet... he looked to the door behind him, then to the stairs. He would reach neither without Danarius or the woman stopping him. But he could use his lyrium to phase through the wall. It was risky. He hadn't tried it with another living being...
Looking back to the woman, she bowed her head slightly seeing that he had gotten it and moved to the other side of Danarius so that the Magister was between them. She was giving him space to run. Of course she would have to give chase... But why? Why was she helping him? What goal was she striving for?
Fenris shook his head, his white hair lashing around him as he tried to clear those thoughts. That didn't matter now. As far as he saw it, he could figure that out the long trek back to the Imperium if she caught him. He would need something to distract him from the hell he was returning too and trying to figure out her objectives would do very well at that. He had to save Merrill. While naive and annoying at times. Carelessly doing blood-magick... She still stood by him when Hawke would not.
Dropping his sword he rushed to her side and swiftly picked her up and turned so that his back was to Danarius, forcing her mostly out of the Magister's line of sight. His skin itched with her in his arms, able to feel the blood-magick still being used upon her.
"Fen... ris," she gasped through labored breaths of pain, looking up at him.
Frowning, he didn't look down as he concentrated on the lyrium burned into his skin. "Hold on, you foolish witch," for once his voice carrying none of the harshness that it normally did, "I don't know if this will hurt you."
Taking a deep breath, he felt the lyrium hum to life, glowing blue... letting his consciousness include her, the light passed to her as well. To both of their surprise the blood-magicks hold on her was severed instantly and she looked up at him with wide eyes. Without a moment to lose, he went to step through the wall that led to one of the back alleys, briefly hearing Danarius yell at his bodyguard before phasing to the other side. Letting the lyrium go, the blue glow disappeared from both of them and he started to run. He didn't have much time to put some distance between him and the tavern. If he was lucky he could find a hiding spot that the woman wouldn't find and he would still be free.
.~-~.
"Damnit, Sarain, follow them," Danarius yelled furious as he rounded on her. "Do not let him get away! And make sure that damn wench he has is taken care of too."
Picking up her duster that had fallen to the floor in all the chaos, she slowly walked towards the door as she put it on and re-clasped it, not saying anything or even giving the indication that she had heard him. Frankly, she was far too pissed to even try and say anything to him that wouldn't reveal how much she loathed the man at that moment. Sometimes Danarius could be a real moron. Really... hurting her like that here and now? She was his ace in the hole, his guarantee that he would get the job done as quickly and cleanly as possible, only to throw it away on his sick amusement and force her to fix everything.
She pushed the thoughts away. It did no good thinking about it. Only made her angrier and the pain she was in would remain. Lucky for her she had learned to ignore her pain at a young age or fighting that Isabela woman and the dwarf would have been sketchy. She was having difficulty not limping as it stood, the muscles in her left leg refusing to relax. Varania healed her as best she could and tried to ease her uncooperative muscles, but she was an armature at best.
Ignoring Danarius as he yelled at no one in particular, she walked out the tavern door. She had known something like this could have happened, but she never thought he would. Sighing, she glanced at the sun that glared down at her and she shaded her eyes before looking around. She wasn't looking for him. She knew what route he would take and he was long gone. Besides, she wasn't so much looking as thinking. What she wanted was a path that would let her cut him off. A small dark smile turned her lips up, knowing just the route. Melding into shadows of another building, she started after her quarry. It was time for the hunt.
~~~~.~-~.~~~~
And let the chase begin. Can Fenris escape with Merrill? Or will this mysterious Sarain catch him? What of Varric and Isabela? Review and tell me what you think should happen!
Beta'd by MobiObi
Re-edited**