Thank you for your support!
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Look at her as if she were a monster. Fenris repeated that a few times in his head as he peeled an orange. Orana fussed with her papa, tasting and stirring the morning gruel for the slaves. He had opted to prepare Denarius's meal. Baking bread and the smell of citrus filled the air. Orana dusted her hands on her ratty apron. Smears of grease streaked it. Her hollowed face looked especially pale. It was no wonder, they had taken her mother days ago. Anyone taken is assumed dead. That's the cold truth of it. But he turned his attention to the fruits again. This task was easy, simple even. The tips of his gauntlets pierced the skin easily. All he needed to do was control himself, and it would peel perfectly. Light poured in from the windows, yet the kitchen still seemed gloomy. The other man hummed a sad tune, but Orana shushed him.
"Hush Papa. Master has a guest." Her voice shook slightly, but there was a trace of hope laced in it. Not hope for freedom, but hope for Denarius to be in a good mood.
"Guest?" The man looked at his daughter blankly before pulling a tray of tarts from the fire. Orana nodded eagerly. "Oh, the Champion." He placed the tray on the metal table. Slowly, he scattered berries across the tarts. They were still gooey. The berries sank into them, and Fenris could tell they would be delicious once cooled. Sometimes he would receive a burnt tart, which he would hand to Orana. The girl was so weak, and he did not need the treat. As a favorite, he was well taken care of, for a slave. She was likely to follow her mother very soon. He wished furiously, if there was a Maker, to save just this one woman. Couldn't he just save her at least?
"Yes Papa, the woman from Kirkwall."
"Orana, please stay away from her," the older elf was still, blueberries still in his hand. His mouth was drawn into a fine, tight line. "That woman is the embodiment of evil."
"How?"
"Oh I've heard so many things Orana. Hadrianna has done nothing but talk about her." His voice dropped low. "She killed her own family. She killed her sister. Just because she was a mage. She fed her brother to the dark spawn, so she could escape. Now that she's here…" The man leaned toward her, his eyes holding fear and worry for his own family. "If she can kill her blood, do you think she would think twice about us? She's a heartless woman."
Fenris took the tray of food out to the dining hall.
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"You are too kind," Hawke repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time. Hadrianna nodded and gushed over her clothing. It wasn't hers, not really. When she awoke, it had been laid out on her chair. But Hadrianna insisted she looked like an upstanding magistrate of Tevinter. Her back was starting to hurt in the oak chairs. But she remained upright. Denarius nodded at her from his place directly across the table. Things were cheerier than the night before. The curtains were pulled back, letting light into any place there could be. Lights were hung, vibrant flowers glowing around them. Everything was just…brighter.
"Now I must say so, Serah, did you enjoy our little Fenris? Isn't he a prize? Oh please tell me of your evening!" The woman hurriedly pushed her stringy black hair from her face. Hawke frowned.
"I have to say, I did not see a point in it." Hawke shook her head. "No, not that he was useless in any way. Just unneeded."
"Why my dear, if Fenris displeased you so I should give you Orana." Denarius chuckled. "By comparison, Fenris would seem premium. But none the less, she is scheduled for a show tonight. Perhaps this chance to serve you will prove her worth."
"Show?" Hawke glanced around, as if there were an audience. What possible shows did they have in Tevinter?
"Oh! You don't know!" Hadrianna clapped excitedly. "I'd be more than happy to demonstrate for you. May I?" She looked at Denarius pleadingly. He nodded, and Hadrianna sprung from her chair. The heavy oak made dragging noises as it was suddenly pushed back. Without a word, she ran from the room. Hawke shuddered, her smile was creepy.
"Remind me, I am no mage, why am I here?" She changed the topic, hoping for more information than she had had the previous evening. Denarius raised a metal mug to his lips, taking a lengthy sip before putting it down. The mug, Hawke noticed, had a faint blue glow tinged in it. Lyrium.
"Ah, yes, to the point then." He licked his lips, folding his hands together and leaning on the table. "I am old. I want to live forever, and the work I have done I do not wish to be destroyed." A long sigh escaped his lips. Very dramatic, Hawke noted. "Hadrianna is not one I would trust my secrets to. I dare to say she is even spiteful of you. Some Ferelden woman taking her place, I assume that's her thinking."
"You are serious about the immortality thing?" Hawke raised an eyebrow in surprise. Denarius nodded, pride in his eyes.
"Deadly."
Hadrianna rushed into the room. Behind her trailed a boy no more than a decade past his birth. He was human, dark, and very skinny. His hair hung over his eyes, his clothing ratty and worn. He seemed to hide behind his hair, as if not seeing them would protect him. Hadrianna ushered him in front of the grand table, very clearly visible to Hawke. Nodding, Hadrianna took a small prick from her robe. The boy rolled up his sleeve, exposing his ashen flesh. His skin clung to his bone, Hawke wondered if he had ever been full in his life. Without warning, she jabbed the prick into the crook of his arm, yanking it free immediately. To his credit, the boy did not flinch. A trail of blackish blood dripped down in a thin stream.
Hawke stared in awe.
"This is our Show, dear Champion. Though, he was behind Orana in the line-up, I do not think you will be disappointed." Hadrianna laughed. Hawke's awe turned to confusion. Then as Hadrianna pulled a small pinch of raw Lyrium from her robe, her confusion turned to horror.
"What are you going to do with that?" Hawke rose, her hands balled into fists. "Is this some sort of blood magic?"
Hadrianna stared at her, mouth agape. "….Yes, Champion. You say that as though you disapprove?"
"Of course I do!" Hawke's hand swiped across the table, letting the empty plates and mugs clatter to the floor. Denarius watched her in slight amusement. "How dare you use it on a child, you Witch!" Hawke shoved back her chair and marched to her. The mage looked from her to Denarius, who merely smiled at the both of them. Hawke grabbed a fistful of Hadrianna's robe, pulling the woman close to her face. "What kind of Abomination gets you off, eh? What sort of deals does it take to sign your life away?"
Denarius rose, clapping his hands steadily. "Very good, Champion. Excellent, in fact." He turned his nose up at the boy, wide eyed in shock and fear. Flicking a wrist at him, the boy bowed his head once and ran off. Hadrianna squirmed out of Hawke's grip, stumbling a few steps backwards.
"You Ferelden bitch!" She shrieked. "How dare you lay your filthy hands on me!" Her palms light up with flames, but a look from her master quelled them. "Denarius you cannot still want her."
"Take a seat everyone, we have much to discuss. And I believe our food is ready." As if on his cue, Fenris and an elven woman entered through a service door. Fenris held a shiny tray with dazzling tarts stacked high upon each other. His face a mask, no emotion or eye contact. The drops of blood on the floor, however, made the elven woman tear up. But she did her best to carry the fruits and wine. Hadrianna walked back to her seat, her eyes narrowed at Hawke. She brushed shoulders with the elven woman, who nearly dropped her trays. Fenris steadied her before she lost balance.
"I have lost my appetite," Hawke snapped, refusing to be ordered. "In fact, I think it best I leave." She turned to go, but two strong, sharp hands grabbed her arms. She wiped her head around to see Fenris holding her still. His face blank, as if the very life had been sucked from him. The tarts he had been carrying were placed on the table. When had he…?
Denarius was shaking his head. "That's a shame, my dear Champion. I do think you will reconsider." He flashed a smile at her. Hadrianna looked over her shoulder, a cruel sneer across her face. She reminded Hawke of Carver, when she had done something wrong and he had ran to their mother. That was the face Carver wore whenever she was scolded. "Fenris, take our lady up to her room. Take Orana with you, I do believe I promised our Champion extra care." He laughed, the elf woman visible shook as she set down her burdens. "Lock her in. Stay, and do not allow her to leave." He flicked his wrist and Fenris began to push her. She fought to gain her arms at least, but his grip was like iron.
"Denarius! Denarius I demand you release me! Fenris, stop!" She thrashed, but he was unyielding. Eventually she lost sight of the dining room. Fenris continued to push her, but his low voice murmured into her ear.
"If you do not fight, I will let you go."
She said nothing. His grip weakened, but he gently guided her up the stairs. Orana trailed behind them, quietly sniffling. The walk to her room was silent for a long while.
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Fenris shoved the door open, gesturing for Hawke and Orana to enter. When Hawke hesitated, Fenris shoved her. The door shut behind her with a sharp thud. Fenris sat in front of it, making no move to allow it to be opened.
"…please don't kill me," the girl's tiny voice pleaded. Hawke glanced over to find Orana on her knees, begging her. Hawke was mortified. She knelt too, and took the woman's hands in hers.
"I would never harm you, ever. Are you a prisoner? Have you been hurt?" Hawke's gentle voice did not lessen the girl's fear. She tried again. "What is your name?"
"Orana," she choked out. "Please, Serah, I will cook for you. I will clean. I can play the lute, too!" her shoulder's shook, and Hawke noticed how thin she was. She shook her head, looking again at Fenris.
"Can't we get her some food?" She said, her voice almost a sigh.
"You have been thrown into a room against your will, without breakfast even, and your first priority is to feed a slave?" Fenris cocked his head at her. "That is a cheap ploy."
"No ploy," Hawke rose, looking around the room for something that might have food. "Go if you must, I will stay. Just please, she needs to eat. When was the last you ate, Orana?"
The woman said nothing, she only sobbed. Hawke rose to her feet again, her boots stomping on the velvet carpet. She marched to Fenris, expecting he move. When he did not, she grabbed the handle of the door. His hand lashed out and caught her. Her blue eye's stared into his, and she could see he was determined. But so was she. Her foot lashed at him, and he ducked away. She swung her freed hand toward him. Surprised, he leaned back, avoiding the blow. But she dropped, sweeping her leg at his. The hit connected, and he went down. She grabbed for the door again, swinging it open with all of her might.
Hadrianna stood in the doorway, smirk on her face.
"I've been instructed to give you a message, Champion." Her voice purred, like a cat satisfied with its kill. "Its from our Master, who you've behaved so rudely in front of. You are to stay, in this very room, until you have calmed yourself. Violent outburst are not tolerated." Her smirk widened into a smile at that. "Your slave is Orana, and should she be unsatisfactory… Well, you won't be a show stopper. Fenris," she nodded at the elf on the floor. "Is to stay. He will be with you until you are ready for your reply to Denarius. None of you are to be fed." Her face leaned towards Hawke, smug. Hawke lashed a fist out, only to reel back in pain. A shield had been placed over the entrance. It shimmered from the impact, then settled once again. "Please, do enjoy your time here, Champion." And with that, Hadrianna walked off, her laughter bounced off the halls.
"You witch!" Hawke called after her, banging her fists on the barrier. "You bloody witch!"
Angry, she stared at Fenris.
"Why do you listen to them? Why am I imprisoned?" She barked at him. He stayed on the ground, looking around the room. Candles had been lit, but no fire. Well, it wasn't cold enough for a fire. It was bright enough, he supposed.
"You were not meant to be." Was his simple answer.
"What was I meant for?" she spat.
"You were meant to-to help our Master," Orana said shakily.
Hawke stormed over to the woman. Fenris shot up, catching her in strides. He stood firmly between them, eyes narrowed at the Champion. Hawke ignored him, craning her neck to look at the meek elf. Orana stared into her hands, which were trying to rub out the flour.
"They were going to cut open a child. Or worse. Mages cannot be trusted." Hawke spat to the side. "Your master sacrifices you for entertainment. Why do you all allow it!"
"Mages? Like your sister?" Orana spoke, her voice stronger. "You killed her because she had a gift of magic, didn't you?"
Hawke froze.
"It's true then, isn't it?" Orana's voice rose. "Master! Master please let me serve someone else!" Orana ran to the door. Her foot caught on the rug, sending her down. Fenris moved to catch, but Hawke caught her instead. Gently, she helped her stand. Orana's wild eyes darted around, looking for some way to escape from Hawke. Hawke helped her sit on the arm chair. Slowly, she drew her red hilted dagger from her belt. Fenris watched carefully as she handed the hilt to Orana.
"Please, Orana. If you ever want to hear the truth, ask me. If you ever think your life is in danger, use this." Hawke nodded at her as she took the blade. She held it so tightly to her chest, Hawke wondered if she had ever owned anything in her life. Fenris wondered what good Orana could possibly do with a weapon, but decided Hawke was not a threat. Yet.
"I will be back momentarily." Fenris turned to the door. Hawke opened her mouth, but shut it as he lit up. A light blue light filled the room, and Hawke found it hard to look at his skin. He fazed through the barrier as if it were never there. He never turned around; he just kept walking out of view. Orana was left alone with Hawke.
"…Serah…if I may…" Orana swallowed. "What did happen?"
Smiling, Hawke sat across from her.
"You are the first person to ever ask me that, Orana. Thank you." Taking a deep breath, Hawke told her story. The story of the blight. The story of the Deep Roads. The story of the Qun, and the Arishok. The story of her friends, family, and home being taken twice. Hawke told Orana every detail, from how Meredith's hair shown like gold to how tired she had been during the war. All while she talked, her blue eyes begged this elven slave to look at her and see her. Look at her, and not see a monster. Look, and see she was only one woman.
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Fenris walked to Denarius's study. He had tucked away two oranges under his shoulder pads, and a few were tucked inside his tunic, against his chest. Not the cleanest place, but they'd be peeled, so it did not matter if some grime was on them. Hadrianna was speaking, so Fenris took great care not to be seen. He was not meant to leave the room yet. Denarius said something that made Hadrianna scoff. Other slaves roamed the mansion, cleaning and scrubbing and trying to generally be of some use. None of them raised their heads when Fenris came past. Which was just as well, he did not want to be noticed.
A child bumped into him. He looked up at Fenris; his dark, shaggy hair almost completely covered his eyes. He made no sound, just stared. His arm had a dirty rag tied around it. Fenris raised his eyebrows at him; this slave was new.
"Sir, when can I go home?" The little boy's voice sounded dry and tired. Fenris rested a hand on his shoulder, bending his knees to make eye contact with the boy. "I don't like to be cut." The boy looked no more than a child, ripped from their mother. Now that he saw his face, Fenris realized he had seen this child before. He was meant to be used for blood magic. Denarius wanted to see if the blood of the young could sustain life for the old. The fact he wasn't used yet…
"This is your home." Fenris patted him, before rising. He began to walk away. He needed to hurry back before he was noticed. With luck, the boy would forget him. As if he had never spoken, the lad turned back to his cleaning.
"Well, she won't last long without food. I expect her to change her mind soon." Denarius's voice sounded closer. "Hadrianna, remember who she is. She is not yet used to Tevinter. But it does not matter, we don't need her to accept it. We simply need her."
"But how long must we wait?" Their footsteps were getting closer. Fenris leaned against the wall, pressing his body as close as he could. They were walking to another room. As long as he stayed quiet, they shouldn't notice him.
"Honestly it is a gift she came to us of her own will. Everything should be prepared in a month's time." There was more, but as soon as they were out of sight, Fenris dashed upstairs. Hawke's words came to him, Why don't you kill him? How could he? And how could she even say such taboo words? Eventually, she will be like him. His body lit up, the Lyrium coursing through him. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good. Fazing like this made him feel sick. But he walked through the barrier, Hawke and Orana seeming to have finished whatever they were talking about.
Orana looked at him, her eyes wet once again.
"Serah Hawke…she…" she wiped her eyes. Hawke smiled, shaking her head. Orana looked at her, as if she were an abandoned Mabari. "Serah, please."
"Orana, let it go. It happened so long ago, it honestly doesn't bother me what people think." Her smile was genuine. But Fenris knew better. He knew it did bother her. But he supposed it didn't matter. He unstrapped his armor. Orana looked away, blushing. But he took the two oranges from his shoulders and set them on the table. He reached inside his black tunic, grabbing the fruit he had stored away there. This was completely foolish, it was true. But he didn't want Orana to starve. He placed each piece as if it were gold on the table, holding onto one for himself. He expected Hawke to reach for it, but she did not move.
"Serah, you aren't meant to be fed. Not until the master says you can," Orana said this, but she did not sound pleased. In fact, she sounded almost bitter. Hawke just nodded.
"Orana, eat." Fenris dug his talons into the skin. He ripped it apart, biting into the fruit's flesh. Juice ran down his chin. Orana looked at the pile timidly, a low growl escaping her stomach. Her cheeks were so thin, her cheek bones very clearly defined. But she did not reach for one. Fenris finished the rest of his in a few bites, tossing the peel into the unlit fireplace. Once she had eaten, he would burn the skins to hide their guilt. Guilt, as if wanting to eat was a crime.
"What is your plan? When will you become submissive?" Fenris stared at the black haired woman. She blinked at him, her eyes taking him in. Again, he felt transparent in front of her gaze.
"You mean, accept blood magic."
"Do not act as if you have never been tempted."
"My sister and father were both magi. I didn't receive their gift." She stood, walking to her bed. Under the mattress, she reached and pulled out both daggers. They were different from the ones Fenris had seen on her back the night before. Where had she been keeping these? "I have felt the pull of a demon, once. My friends have as well." She stared at herself in the reflection of the blade. "I could say no. They couldn't." She tossed the weapons on top of her bed. Fenris averted his eyes as she slipped behind the screen. Orana jumped up to assist. The silken robe was thrown over the screen, her armor pulled behind it. Dressing for a fight?
"You will need to eventually. The food in here now is likely the last you'll see for a long while." She noted he did not offer any to her. "You will accept it, or you will die."
"Fenris!" Orana cried out from behind the screen. Evidently Hawke had not turned away her service. "We cannot let her starve! Master would be understanding, please Mistress, please just apologize. Master is not a bad man."
"Maybe," Hawke agreed. "But I'm very opinionated."
Fenris reached down to take another fruit. Stripping it bare, he sunk his teeth in. A cut on his lip burned from the juice. Strange, he had not remembered biting his lip. This woman's attitude was a façade. No sane being would turn down the chance to become a magistrate.
"I heard master say he wants you as his heir," Orana babbled. "That means one day we will all work for you. Please," her voice was sad. "I would like it for you to be our Master."
Hawke stepped out from behind the screen. Her clothing was a patchwork of leather and metal. Everything was form fitting, as if this had been custom made. Her boots, now dry, made not so much as a scuffing noise as she approached Fenris. Orana trailed behind her with her cloak. Fenris wasn't sure where she thought she was going, the barrier was something only he could get through. The weapons from her bed had at some point been slipped into the straps at her sides. On her back were the long, delicate looking daggers he had seen the night before. She stood in front of him, waiting.
"Why would Denarius want you?" He spat. It wasn't what he had wanted to say, but it was a question on his mind. "You're no mage, you cannot use the edge of blood magic to surpass anyone in this city. Why did you even come here?"
"I can't take everyone here with me," she spoke as if he hadn't. "But I will free this city. Either of you, come with me. I can protect you." She smiled back at Orana as she draped the cloak around her.
"Protect us? I will be shocked if you left this room, Serah." Orana looked between them, almost panicked. As if they would start trading blows again.
"You asked why I came here," Hawke brushed past him to the tapestry of the man and boy holding hands. The hole her dagger had made still lingered. She pushed her finger through it. When she pulled it back, a fine blue dust came with her. "I came to find a friend." She walked to the door way, still humming with magic. She traced her finger in an X motion, and the shield was dispelled almost instantly. Before Fenris could stare in awe, it shot back up, humming with even more power and light. But Hawke did not look troubled, though Orana looked as if she might faint.
"Magic," Fenris accused.
"Lyrium powder," Hawke corrected. She turned back, her eyes no longer piercing him with their stare. She held out her hands, as if she were expecting them to take it. But her eyes were not expecting, they were pleading. "I'm leaving. Will you both come with me?"
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That's all for chapter two. Any comments about improving, or situations you'd like to see, I'd love to see. I take every one of them to heart!
For the next chapter, I leave this outcome to you. Comment whether or not you think they should go with her. Or maybe just one decides to. Or she leaves without them. It's up to you!