Fenris stood silently in the alcove behind the desk in his master's study. Danarius spent a large portion of his time here, hunched over his desk as he was now. It was a large room on the second floor of the mansion. One wall had a bank of windows, interrupted only by a rarely used fireplace. There were two doors: one for the master and his guests, and one for the slaves who came in only at set times to clean. There were two walls full of books, as well as several shelves.
From his place behind his master, Fenris could see all these features, and his eyes moved constantly between them. He catalogued them absently in his mind with each sweep of the room. Main door: closed. Slave's door: closed. Windows: open to the air, but no movement to be seen. Fireplace: cold and empty. Shelves of book: undisturbed. As soon as he finished one visual check on all points, he started over from the beginning. Over and over, never a pause, never a rest, his body motionless but always ready for action with no advance warning. He was a bodyguard, and he would not fail in his duty if called upon.
Fenris had just completed a visual check of the room, about to start again when a noise from the desk drew his attention to his master's back. Only briefly, though, before he continued his protective survey. If the his master needed Fenris, he would tell him. If not, his job was not to be distracted by anything from the single most important reason for his existence. Protect Master Danarius.
Danarius was cursing under his breath, now, a piece of paper crumpled in his grasp. With each word, he seemed to be working himself further into a rage, his voice rising until he was shouting. Fenris stood silent, expression blank as his eyes maintained his steady sweep of the room. Main door: closed. Slave's door: closed… but he had to fight to keep from flinching at the anger in his master's voice. Only the knowledge that he was currently on guard kept him from trembling with fear before that rage. Fenris wrenched his attention back to his task. Windows….
Before he could get through his check of the windows, two things happened nearly simultaneously. Danarius, no longer satisfied with yelling curses at an empty room, picked up the ink jar from his desk, and hurled it across the room, where it exploded against the doorjamb just as the door opened. That was against the rules of the manor - no one ever entered any room where Danarius was without knocking.
Fenris was moving before the thought had fully formed. Sword drawn, he put himself in front of Danarius' desk, eyes fixed on whatever was about to come through the door. Even Danarius was stunned into momentary silence, so that when Hadriana's pale face peered around the corner of the door, eyes glancing nervously at the dent and splash of ink (which was precisely at the level of her face), her squeek of surprise at finding Fenris armed and glowering dangerously seemed very loud.
Her eyes immediately narrowed into her usual expression of disdain for him, a blush spreading across her cheeks at being caught in such a childish reaction.
"What are you thinking, slave? I am not a threat to Magister Danarius. Put that ridiculous sword away."
Fenris remained motionless. Only his master's command would convince him to relax his guard.
Danarius' dry chuckle came from behind him. "Indeed, Fenris, you may relax. She is no threat - she hasn't the brains for it." At Hadriana's outraged gasp, he added coldly, "You know better than to enter without knocking."
Fenris put his sword away and stepped back to his position in the alcove behind his master's desk. He took up his silent sweep again, making sure his eyes never crossed Hadriana. Still, he knew that she was glowering at him, embarrassed by her own fear and the magister's reprimand. Her anger promised retribution, and he could only hope that his master would distract her from her plans.
"I did knock, Magister. I suppose you could not hear me." She waited, as if expecting some agreement or apology. None was forthcoming, so she bottled her annoyance and added, "You sent for me?"
"Yes. I have received a most annoying letter." Danarius gestured at the crumpled paper which lay on the floor, dropped when he hurled the ink pot. "From my father."
Hadriana's jaw dropped; and with it, the temperature in the room, as the magister's expression grew even colder. Danarius despised such open reactions. She quickly schooled her expression and offered hesitantly, "I thought your father was dead, Magister?"
"Indeed. That was what he wanted everyone to think. Especially myself." Briefly, his voice went sinister. "I have spent considerable resources trying to ensure the truth of that belief." Danarius sighed with frustration and disgust. "But it turns out he simply decided he could no longer live here in Tevinter, and ran off like a petulant child.
"He has a new family, a new life, as some grubby dirt farmer in Ferelden, of all places. I would have been happy to never know anything about it, of course, except now it seems that he has caught an assassin, and feels his life is in danger, as well as the life of his eldest child. He writes most eloquently of trusting only me - in all of the Imperium - to protect his 'precious girl.'" Danarius sniffed, brushing at his fingers as if to dislodge something distasteful. "And so he is sending her here, where he is sure I will protect her with my 'considerable powers and political influence,' while he tries to find the source of this assassination attempt."
Hadriana's jaw dropped again, and this time Danarius didn't bother to attempt correction. He simply nodded at her expression before continuing.
"She will be here in a matter of days. She is to be extended every courtesy, of course - every courtesy a barbarian will notice, at least - and it should go without saying that her safety is to be the primary concern of everyone in this manor, second only to my own. My father" he spat the word, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "is taking no chances; he has made sure that everyone will know she is sent to my home and my protection."
Glancing surreptitiously at his face, Hadriana dared a question. "What of our work, Magister? Will she interfere?"
Danarius snorted. "Hardly. She hasn't any magic at all. Just a common Ferelden peasant, not raised to any court or political sense. My dear father wanted a simple life when he left here, and has thus made sure his daughter has no useful skills. I would imagine she knows little beyond farming, and I doubt she has any manners worth mentioning. We will make sure she isn't able to get too comfortable here, and she will be easily kept out of the way. I won't have her provoked into a dangerous anger, so you are to be polite to her, Hadriana, and make sure the slaves behave themselves as well."
A new blush stained Hadriana's cheeks at this demeaning order. She was his apprentice after all, and deserved better than to be treated as a bare step above the staff. She hid her sneer, though, eyes sweeping the room in search of a distraction. Her gaze landed on Fenris, and she licked her lips.
"I will see that everyone understands the situation, Magister."
Danarius nodded, his anger already cooled as he sat down behind his desk again. The only sign of his lingering anger was when the crumpled piece of paper burst into flames and burned down to ashes in a few seconds. He waved dismissal at Hadriana, and she turned to leave.
She stopped at the door, though, and turned back, as if a thought had just occurred to her.
"Magister, may I have leave to save you the trouble of disciplining your slave tonight? I will undertake to impress on him how he failed you today."
When Danarius just looked at her, she continued, "After all, he should have heard my knock, even if you were speaking. What if I was an assassin?"
It was a ridiculous argument, and they both knew it. If anyone Fenris didn't recognize had walked through that door, he had already been alert and positioned to stop them. She simply wanted to save face, to punish him for seeing her disgrace at Danarius' hands. Still, he considered, anything that kept her from focusing too closely on his business would be very useful. Danarius nodded. "I'll send him to you for punishment when I no longer have need of him tonight."
Casting a cruel smile at him that Fenris couldn't avoid seeing, she left. The door closed quietly behind her.
Wrenching his thoughts away from what would happen when Danarius dismissed him for the night, Fenris returned to his watchful routine. Main door: closed. Slave's door: closed….
Three days later, Fenris stood behind Danarius in the foyer of the mansion, nerves and muscles strained tight with anticipation. The setting sun sent its rays through the stained glass windows surrounding the foyer, casting colored shadows that shifted and hinted at danger. Unknown people coming to the mansion. Unknown numbers, unknown motives. Unknown, unknown… His fingers flexed in his gauntlets. Too many unknowns, too many variables, too many directions danger might come from.
His eyes moved restlessly around the foyer. He saw Hadriana coming down the main staircase, and dismissed her as not a current threat. She slid up behind him, however, running her finger along his ear and making him jump, making him ache with remembered torments. Even after three days.
Danarius' dry voice called her, and she slid away from Fenris to stand beside the Magister as a carriage pulled up to the door. The house slaves opened the foyer doors, as one of the coachmen jumped down to open the carriage door and hand someone out. Fenris stared, even his well-trained professionalism stalled by this sight.
The person who climbed out of the carriage did so with a small hop. She was dressed in plain leather trousers, a plain, patched vest, and a homespun shirt. Fenris could practically hear Danarius and Hadriana snickering. Their guest wore her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, as if she couldn't be bothered to take the time to style it. She had an honest smile and a wide eyed expression of amazement.
She mounted the stairs with a spring in her step, and stopped in front of Danarius. She planted her hands on her hips, and looked him up and down in open appraisal. Fenris thought he could hear his master's teeth grinding at this liberty, but before Danarius could do anything to put her in her place, the newcomer was speaking.
"Well! I guess you're my half brother then, eh? You have our father's eyes." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Ashara."
Danarius glanced at her hand, and shook it briefly with barely concealed disgust. "Yes, I am Magister Danarius."
The girl rolled her eyes. "I got that. What do you go by, then? Dan? Rius?"
Danarius' eyes narrowed, and she seemed to wilt slightly where she stood. "You may call me Magister Danarius. As a… " he hesitated, but only barely, "... daughter of this house, you should expect to be referred to as 'milady' by anyone who is not family. We use more formal manners here than you might be used to, Ashara, but it is best you start adapting." He waited until she nodded, now looking fully cowed, before continuing in a more complacent tone.
A flurry of questions followed, each leaving the newcomer looking more unsettled. By the time Danarius had left her to Hadriana's care and retired to his study, she looked completely lost.
Fenris took up his accustomed place behind his master's desk, and allowed himself to relax infinitesimally at this return to routine. As his eyes settled into their well worn path around the room, he could hear his master chuckling to himself.