Disclaimer: I'm not hitting on you or anything, but this universe still isn't mine.

One reviewer said they'd go back in time to be rich in the future, another said they'd change all the effort they put into their high school years; if I went back in time, I'd tell Little Me to never, ever use the internet.

It's rotted my soul.

No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens. - Abraham Lincoln

02: Stumble

-S-

Who are you?

Who are you?

Who are you?

Life screeched to a standstill, the only thoughts left in my head being of the cool, dusty floor and the scent of sharp, potent ammonia in the stagnant air. My mind blanked for a moment, absorbing his echoed words.

"W-" I choked, coughing. "Excuse me?"

"Have we met?" Fenris asked impatiently, a scathing look entering his eye. My eyebrow raised, and the lingering dust motes on my skin shifted.

Ugh. Disgusting.

"What do you mean,have we-"

Oh.

Oh.

I examined his face, my hands snapping forward to capture his jaw and turn his cheeks just so. Olive skin. Check. Green eyes. Check.

Lyrium tattoos that he's always bitching about. Cross.

White hair. Cross.

Holy Maker, he even appeared to be younger,his chiseled jaw rounded in places that were normally arched and firm, the creases his mouth less lined, skin unscarred-

"Releaseme," he growled, pushing me away from him. I stumbled back, my hands slipping from his face and grasping air as I fell further into the dark. "Who are you?"

"Marian," I replied automatically, shutting my mouth and sucking my lips between my teeth to keep it from falling open again. I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks heat.

"I - who are you?" I retorted quickly to throw him off, my voice catching only slightly in the midst of the question with the absurdity of it. I sucked in a breath, breathing in a lungful of drifting dust and coughing lightly.

His narrowed eyes scoured my face in distrust, undeterred in the face of my choking. "You called me Fenris. Are you confused?"

I gave him a weak grin, my eyes watering. Fucking dust. "Did I?" I asked in a poor substitute for confusion. "Must have been a slip of the tongue. Your name is obviously..." not Fenris. I was flabbergasted. NotFenris.

I hoped he would finish the sentence for me, but my hope was in vain. He did not move from his wooden stance in front of me, his eyes growing perceptively harder. I tried not to inhale, wondering how he could remain composed in this disgusting place. "Right. Well, thank you, not Fenris, for leading me to this...place." I glanced around the room he had dragged me into, only now realizing that it was a spacious storage room. I cleared my throat again, reminded of the dust as it clung to the wooden shelves. "Lovely, isn't it? Of course, I'll be using these, these, ah," I squinted at what looked like a pail and shovel. "...stuff soon enough, won't I?"

Did a slave ever need the use of a shovel?

I supposed if I ever had to bury any dead bodies...

Look on the bright side, I told myself. That magister may want you to plant a cheery garden in the future.

Cheery gardens. Who am I kidding?

A cheery garden on top of someone's dead body, more like.

Does that mean I'll have double the need for a shovel and pail?

Fenris didn't buy what I was selling. "When did you get here?"

"When I walked through the front door," I quipped nervously. "Now, what are we in here for? Aren't you supposed to be beating me, or something?"

His mouth grew thin as his eyes hardened in anger. "Do not test me, girl," he warned arrogantly. "Or I will."

I raised my eyebrows. "So you aren'tgoing to whip me?" Confusing, wasn't he? He swooped to my rescue in the dark, dry hallway only to threaten me himself in this musty closet.

I sniffed. It smelled disgusting, like rotten cheese and a soiled mop.

And pee.

Curious smells aside, I wondered if saving other slaves from beatings was something Fenris - or notFenris - normally did. Would he get into trouble? "Should I pretend you are? You know, make some rough noises or something?"

Fenris pinched the bridge of his nose. "Imbecile," he muttered beneath his breath. "I will not whip you," he said, "for a first offense. You are clearly not a slave -" again with the "not a slave". Can a girl not catch a break? "- and are not accustomed to the consequences for your actions." He exhaled through his nose. "Be thankful the Mistress did not catch your abuse of her possessions. Be thankful I was watching, and that I am merciful."

It was a cup.

"Abuse! I did notabuse the -"

He ignored me. "You will not breakthe Mistress's possessions, you will not disobey, and you will do nothing without permission, or I will be forced to punish you."

"They should not startle me," I grumped. "It was not my fault."

He took a step away from me in the confined space. "Return to your duties."

I did not find out whether it was an order or a suggestion, because a second later he opened the door and gracefully ducked his dark head behind it before I could say anything. My heart leapt into overdrive and I panicked, chasing him around the wooden obstruction. "Wait!" I yelled, causing several people unseen to hiss in unison. I lowered my voice. "Fenris."

A second too late, I realized that I probably should not call him Fenris.

His lanky frame towered over me when we stood upright - was he always so tall? - and I shrunk down as he pressed the full, imposing power of his height over me when he turned.

"Yes?" he hissed through his teeth, a barely-there whisper of consonants.

"I - I don't know," I stammered, feeling the blush on my cheeks. What was wrong with me? I neverblushed. "I don't know where -"

"She needs an escort around the manor," inserted a worn voice. "Allow me to-"

I glanced to Fenris. "Will you take me?" I blurted hopefully, impulsively. I didn't wish to go with Svanna - she would definitely make good on her promise to have me punished.

Even if he was a blighter, I would prefer a familiar face.

"You think I have nothing better to do than show a slavearound her quarters?" he growled at me, but I saw the gleam of surprise in his eye. "You will learn, or you will not learn. It matters not to me."

I sighed. At least his attitude hasn't changed.

"Leave her to me," Svanna suggested, stepping around Fenris's lean body. She grabbed my arm, pulling me close enough to whisper in my ear. "Do not be foolish, child."

I jerked away from her chilled touch, back into Fenris. I glanced into his eyes, the same emerald eyes I had always known. To my great pleasure, I found that they were unchanged, a familiar feature in a foreign appearance. "Please."

There was hesitation in his eyes, hesitation that swelled my chest with uncertain hope. I tried to convey how anxious I was through our eye contact, looking to sway him.

His sigh was slowly followed by an acceptance. "Very well," he said, his hand snapping out to cage my wrist. Svanna appeared grim in my peripheral vision, mouth set in a frown and her wrinkled face forlorn. Fenris dragged me down the hall behind him and I stumbled, trying to keep pace with his long, graceful legs. "These are the sleeping quarters. You will sleep when rest is allowed, and it is not a privilege given lightly."

"Fenris," I began, only to receive a cold glare from over his shoulder as he pulled me from the hall and back into the kitchen. "My hand hurts."

"The kitchen is where you will spend your after-mealtime hours," he said gruffly, ignoring my complaint. "You do not touch the food the Mistress and her company is to consume. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand, but-"

He tried to pull me from the kitchen, but I put my foot down. "Hey."

He stopped, and I watched his eyes shut in annoyance. He turned, hand still grasping my arm, and allowed me speaking room.

I yanked my wrist from his hand. "Thankyou," I groaned, rubbing the tender flesh. "You really are quite rude, did you know that?"

"It does not matter what you think," Fenris said stoically. "Only what you do."

"So, you want to fight me?" I asked without thinking.

I blinked my eyes. After all, it did not matter what he thoughtabout me.

But he acted as if he wanted to punch me in the throat.

So, technically, were those fighting words?

"Excuse me?" he sputtered, shocked speechless.

"You heard me," I bluffed, sticking up my pathetic fists, wondering where I was going with this. I was certain that he would best me in a fight, but Maker damn it, this elf had to give. "Do you want to fight me?"

Not that I considered fighting him - I suppose I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of this Fenris, to gauge if he was as familiar as he seemed.

It worked. A tanned hand reached up to run down his face. "You are asinine," he said plainly. "Did you come from a family of fools?"

I thought a moment. Carver doesn't count, I told myself. "A pack of wild Mabari, actually."

"Mabari," Fenris stated, amused. "I think we are done here. I may even let the Mistress know that she bought a Fereldan wench - she may think to return you." He headed for the door to the foyer.

Ouch.I frowned. I wasn't a wench, was I?

...and did I give so much away that he could tell I was Ferelden-born?

"What, no more smart words?" Fenris asked, glancing behind his back. He saw that I was frowning, and stopped, eyes widening minutely. "Did I wound you, Fereldan?"

"My name is Marian," I said, glowering. "You would do well to use it."

He reached his arm out to me once more. "You-"

A gasp cut his words off and Fenris turned, yanking me into his back. My hand came around his waist to steady myself, but he pushed away from me and through the door when a distinct ripping sound echoed from the hallway and into the kitchen. I jumped into action as I watched the skinny boy crash to the floor, falling through tatters of flitting fabric and past a window sill.

I flew to his side and caught his shoulders before his head slammed into the flooring, holding him fast in my arms.

The small boy's eyes grew large and round when the tall shadow of Fenris loomed over us; he squeaked and scrambled to his knees, and I examined the torn, rich fabric lying on the wooden floor, matching it with the beautiful tapestry hanging over the windows.

A stool sat, unassuming and overturned, beneath the window.

The simplest explanation was that the boy had heard us arguing and fallen in surprise.

I made a note to be quieter in future arguments.

Because yes, there would be more arguments.

Fereldan wench.

I'll show you a 'Fereldan wench'.

Fenris clutched the boy's head, fingers threading through his hair roughly. His other hand reached around behind his back to grasp a whip at his waist - why had I not noticed the whip? - and he swung it out, cracking it into the air. The boy flinched.

I recognized the child from earlier - he was the boy that ran away from me in the kitchens.

"What are you doing?" I asked, aghast as Fenris raised the whip. My face distorted in anger as I yelled at him. "Stop!" I commanded, groping at the hand held fast in the boy's hair, attempting to remove it. I stared in stunned disbelief as Fenris wielded the whip as if to use it, lifting it with a practiced hand.

"Back away," Fenris ordered, releasing the boy only to toss me aside. "He is to be taught a lesson."

"Like hell he is!" I yelled, throwing myself in front of the boy again. "You stay away from him!" I curled around the small elf, protecting him from Fenris's wrath. "Are you okay?" I spoke directly into his pointed ear. He nodded, his thin frame shaking beneath me.

"You are interfering," Fenris said angrily. "Back away from the child."

I had always known that Fenris was brutal, but this was ridiculous.

"Only if you promise not to hurthim," I growled, tightening my hold on the boy's frail bones. "It was an accident."

"An accident that would cost him his life, had the Mistress been near," he barked. "Release him."

"No! I refuse!" I pressed the boy closer.

"What is the meaning of this?" Svanna asked, entering the foyer. She eyed the boy and myself, and then Fenris, his whip drawn behind him. "Leto?"

Leto.

Really? Leto?

Hm. He looked more like a Fenris than a Leto.

I chided myself inwardly for having a biased opinion.

"The child destroyed the Mistress's property. He is paying the price."

"He doesn't have to!" I protested, eyes finding Svanna's. "Let him go." I turned my glare back to Fenris. "You didn't whip mefor the same offense."

"Is that true, Leto?"

Fenris stood stoic. "That can be rectified at any moment, Fereldan." His dark hair shivered on his head as he lowered the whip, the tendons in his biceps twitching.

"I can have the curtain sewn," Svanna said cautiously. "The Mistress will never be able to tell a difference."

Victory!my inner warrior roared at Svanna's words. I appraised her with an alternate perspective as she persuaded Fenris to let the boy go without a lashing.

"But the boy..."

"Who is there to say you didn't whip him?" she asked, glancing at the elves washing the floor nearby. They both whipped their heads back down to observe their work, trying their damndest to seem oblivious to what was happening not five feet away. "And who is there that would testify that you didn'twhip the girl?"

Fenris scowled at me, and my back raised as the boy shrank. He obviously didn't enjoy such a blatant disregard for the rules.

It was his fault for starting it. He could have whipped me.

Hypocrite.

"You would have injured a child," I stated, finally releasing the kid. He trembled and immediately stood, running from the room, leaving only a puddle in his wake. I sighed and distanced myself from his shame, standing to face an enraged Fenris. "You would have whipped him."

"He deserved to be punished," Fenris said, eyes narrowing.

"So did I, but you didn't punish me," I retorted.

"Pity stayed my hand," he sneered. My mouth dropped and my blood boiled.

"Pity?" My voice strangled with rage. "Pity? You pity me?" And he didn't pity the boy? My hands shook with the force of restraint. "I do not need nor want your damned pity," I spat. "I pity youif your first reaction to an accident is yanking a whip out!"

Maybe I didneed to fight him.

"Sleep!" Svanna cried as Fenris's face turned red. "It is time for bed!" She leapt between Fenris and I, hands outstretched. "Leto, you have duties to attend. I will show her to the sleeping quarters."

"She cannotspeak to me like-"

"Come!" Svanna beckoned me, turning and heading back through the kitchen. I glowered at Fenris as I followed her, absent-mindedly wondering when I would ever see the rest of the house.

"What is hisproblem?" I muttered behind her as the door swung shut behind me.

"His duty is to punish those who step out of line," Svanna answered wearily.

"But it was an accident!" I protested.

"The boy is a slave," she said. "As are you, as am I. It does not matter if it was an 'accident' - it is considered a transgression."

"Fucked up place," I seethed. Fenris was in charge of beating children. Nice.

"You have been here barely an hour and already you have struck a name for yourself," the stewardess sighed. "If you do not keep your head down, you will certainly be killed."

"That whip could have snapped the boy's neck," I said as we crossed the kitchen. "I could have just saved his life."

"I know," Svanna said. "But that does not mean it was a fairly apt action." She led me back down the hall and to a door; we walked inside, passing several sleeping elven children. "Find a place to sleep and get as many hours as possible. You will be woken at the cock's first crow at four bells and be immediately sent to..." she paused thoughtfully. "Do you sew, Marian?"

"I may be able to," I said, remembering the clumsy lessons my mother used to give. "Where do I go?"

"Two doors down and to the left," Svanna said as a boy ran in the room. The same boy that had ripped the curtain. "Drehal," she named him as he bowed to me. "This is Marian."

"Thank you, ma'am," Drehal whispered timidly.

I patted his head, smoothing the carnage that had been dealt to the hair on his scalp. "Don't mention it."

"Try to be careful, Drehal," Svanna said. "Marian has agreed to help mend your mistake. You will not be cleaning windows from now on, child."

He nodded fervently. I rubbed my cheek absent mindedly, hoping he wasn't planning on repaying me with anything - especially anything that would throw me back into trouble.

Although, I was hardly certain I was out of trouble. Perhaps I would refrain from lingering on Fenris - Leto's bad side. It would get me beaten, or whipped - or worse. With a wildcard like him around, I would have to be respectful.

And most importantly, I would have to watch my fucking mouth.

A doomed effort, I was certain.

I had spent the better part of our interaction trying to get a rise out of him, and I had succeeded - if not in the way I had planned. Even so, arguing with Fenris was one of my favorite pastimes, and I hoped he would realize that I wasn't going to let him have his way so easily.

If at all.

I glanced around the room, trying to find a place to rest my head. There were elves all about the room, laying in cots, rugs, stacks of clothes, sacks, crates, and even the bare floor.

I groaned. I hated sleeping on the floor; my luxurious life in Hightown had evidently spoiled me to such things. Still, I bowed to fate and found a quiet corner that was, as of yet, unoccupied. I tilted my head against the wall and shut my eyes to the dark room, feeling the weight of the other elves staring at me all the while.

Tomorrow would be a day worth preparing for.

Is anyone still around to read this?