Fenris

There was no need to think about the decision. As soon as he had fumbled for the meaning of the words on the parchment, he knew what he had to do. Fenris had allowed the one person he respected most to become entangled in the cruel web that was his past. Hawke could not be the one to pay his debt. Anders was right, she did deserve better.

One thing gnawed at him as he prepared to tell the messenger he would meet Danarius. How had he lived? Could the Magister have healed himself? Did he have help? He remembered pulsing lyrium and Danarius's blood on the floor, but he had been so distracted with Varania and with the adrenaline of finally confronting Danarius, that he couldn't remember exactly how he'd dealt the final blow. Maybe he never had.

Na via lerno Victoria

Only the living know victory. Danarius was among the living and now he was close to the victory he'd been after for years. He didn't want to believe that Danarius had finally made the winning move. The Magister had somehow lived, and now he held the only thing Fenris valued more than his own life. Danarius probably deserved the victory over him. Fenris had failed himself and worst of all, Hawke. He needed to ready himself for the shameful march to the Docks.

"I will come, but I need a moment. Wait here," he told the messenger.

Fenris took a small book from the pouch at his hip and walked to his writing desk. He put quill to paper and slowly, deliberately scratched something into the inside cover of the little tome. He ran his fingers slowly over the message, as if sealing its meaning into the pages. Fenris checked the scarlet sash on his wrist, giving it a gentle tug to secure it, and he was moving toward the door.

"Danarius requested that you be disarmed before we leave," the messenger said when he emerged from the estate.

Fenris squinted in the light of midday. "Of course," he said gruffly. He unsheathed the blade he carried at his back and handed it to the man, who nearly buckled under its weight.

"Maybe we should just leave it here," he offered with slight embarrassment.

Fenris took the sword and leaned it against the front door of the estate.

"Danarius mentioned you keep a dagger at your waist as well."

Fenris gave the man a vicious stare, but complied, handing him the weapon. He felt wrong, uneven, exposed. He'd carried a blade with him at every waking moment since he could remember. The two men did not speak as they began their deliberate walk to The Docks. Fenris took in the architecture of Hightown one last time. How strange it felt to know it was the last time he would look on the neat cobblestones beneath his bare feet. He would miss the midnight walks. He had learned to deal with the pain of a past he couldn't remember while pacing these streets. He'd worked through the new feelings Hawke had stirred in him by walking. How ironic that he was walking to put an end to all of it now.

As they passed into Lowtown, the familiar, but strangely comforting smell of sewage greeted him. It was comforting because it was predictable. The merchant booths, the commoners squabbling outside of The Hanged Man, the drunk and downtrodden, they were all a part of Lowtown. This was where he had met her.

He had not been floored by her beauty or filled with lust by her figure. Instead, he was surprised by her kindness to a stranger, to himself. She had never reeled back in shock at his strange appearance as many others had. She had not asked for coin in return for her assistance with his initial search for Danarius. Her warmth and wit drew him to her. Her beauty grew from the inside and then radiated from her. It swelled until now it had reached the point where he could think of little else. He was ashamed now of his initial reaction to her being a mage. To think that he'd almost turned her away then.

Fenris refused to see her kindness spoiled by his depraved old master. What vile things Danarius was doing to Hawke this very moment, he could not imagine. He pushed the thought away. Perhaps Danarius would receive no pleasure from torturing a fellow mage. Besides, this had always been about reclaiming his prized pet. He hoped it had nothing to do with Hawke.

The courier slowed once he reached The Docks. His eyes searched the doors of the empty warehouses. He motioned to one just off to the left, set back a ways from the others at the waterfront. Fenris took a deep breath as the man knocked on the door.

Varania

The small storehouse had become very crowded in the last couple of minutes. With the arrival of the mercenaries hired to keep her brother from killing them all, standing room was scarce. They had moved The Champion to a side room to keep them separated upon Leto's immediate arrival. Danarius was pacing just behind the front door. A strange energy was almost palpable in the air around her. Leto was on his way and Danarius was obviously eager to see his plot unfold.

The Champion had been gagged in the corner for hours, but had been wise enough to stop her struggle with the onset of the commotion. Varania could not look into her eyes. This mage had been the one who convinced Leto to let her live. Looking back, she owed The Champion her life. It was obvious she cared about her brother. She was surprised by how much he was willing to give up for this woman, for he had his freedom now, and Varania couldn't imagine him giving it up for just anyone.

Two knocks on the door had everyone hushed in an instant. The mercenaries closed around Danarius, ready to protect their charge. The Magister straightened, and opened the door. A stout man that Varania did not recognize entered first followed by Leto. His eyes were lowered, his shoulders hunched. No spark of defiance behind his green eyes. Without The Champion fighting by his side, he looked utterly empty. He looked beaten.

"How nice of you to join us my little Fenris," Danarius said in the honey-dripping voice that made her skin crawl.

"Where is she, Danarius?" he said softly.

"Now now, my pet. That won't do at all. You must address me properly and then we shall discuss the terms of our trade," he responded.

Varania watched her brother intently as he slumped his shoulders in submission. He lowered his head and spoke the words she thought him incapable of.

"Of course," he exhaled audibly as if forcing the words to trail his breath, "Master."

Danarius clasped his hands together in front of him in a mocking gesture of joy. "That is more like it." Varania knew that, despite Danarius's outward display of conquest, he would not claim victory until they were out of Kirkwall.

Leto's eyes had not left his own feet. She wondered what it must feel like to have freedom and love taken from you in less than a day. She felt a strange ache for her brother, but pushed it aside. He had abandoned them and she'd had to fend for herself and Mother. So she would fend for herself this day.

"So, have you decided to submit yourself to me in return for the life of your Champion?" Danarius asked, bending the last word venomously.

"I will do as you ask from this day forward," Leto said, his eyes unwavering from their fixed gaze on the floorboards. "But before I do, I need a moment alone with Hawke and your word that she will be unharmed,"

"You understand that after our last unfortunate encounter, I cannot trust the two of you together," he said, showing a crack of nervousness in his cool demeanor.

"Then let someone stand guard, it does not matter. You may bind me if it pleases you."

"No need for chains." The Magister waved a hand indicating an air of indifference. "Your sister will watch to ensure no plans are shared, but I would not hinder your farewell." Varania knew it was all a show. Perhaps Danarius thought it would be more painful for Leto to say goodbye than to just lead him off now. She thought better of it. No, the Magister was cunning. He would use Leto's compassion for the Champion to twist him to his will, not solely to cause him pain. If her brother saw The Champion alive and well, then the affection that drove him to surrender would remain strong, long enough to keep him compliant. "You have five minutes, then we depart."

Leto rushed to the back room straight to The Champion who had her back to the door. Varania followed.

"Close the door and let them have their privacy, Varania," the Magister said. Varania knew he wanted to talk to Minara alone and that it had nothing to do with the privacy of the two captives. She did as she was ordered, after stepping into the small room with Leto and The Champion. Her brother removed the gag from The Champion's mouth and struggled to untie the ropes that secured her hands behind her to the chair.

"Fenris, you shouldn't have come. Especially when-" The Champion began.

Leto put one finger over her lips, tenderly, then went back to work on the ropes. "This is my debt to pay, not yours." When the ropes dropped to the floor, she remained immobile due to the binding spell around her wrists. Danarius had also thought to cast a silencing spell on her, so although the Champion could speak, she was unable to perform magic under the effect. Varania heard Leto curse in Tevinter under his breath, still trying to get around the spell.

She averted his gaze, until he spoke. "Varania, please perform a counterspell. Hawke will not run," he assured. It was the first time they had spoken since their encounter at The Hanged Man when he'd almost killed her. She wondered if she would have reacted differently if it had been him backstabbing her.

Leto gave her a desperate look which she tried to ignore. She could be punished for this. She shook her head. She knew she could not be so cold to him again. It would be harmless to allow them this moment together. Maker help her. Varania allowed the energy in her life blood to churn around her fingertips. When she felt the energy peak, she funneled it into Danarius's barrier. Suddenly the Champion's wrists were free and she stood up, flinging her arms around Leto.

She pretended to give them their privacy, looking away toward the other wall, but she couldn't help but watch from the corner of her eye. Her interest was piqued by this tenderness in her brother. They embraced and Leto brushed a strand of blood-stained hair from The Champion's eye. She had an ugly gash above her left eyebrow from one of her struggles with Danarius. She watched her brother tenderly trace the lines of the woman's lips, the curve of her cheek, her neck and shoulder. He had never shown this level of compassion for a human being. She'd only seen this softness directed to Mother or herself years ago, but still, this kindness was different. There was gentle warmth, but there was also passion. Her brother was truly in love.

"Don't tell me you will submit to him, Fenris. I cannot allow that," Hawke commanded.

"There is no other choice," he replied softly.

"I will not live to see you a slave. We could-"

Leto interrupted her, pressing his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss that left Varania rather uncomfortable to be in the same room. She looked away, a familiar sensation washing over her again. Guilt. Leto had found contentment only to lose it like this. She should have been happy for him; she should have just left him alone. Instead, she'd come back to help her brother's old master enslave him a second time. Now she watched as he was torn from the woman he loved. For what? For a chance at being a Magister? Varania had never felt guilt like this and wasn't sure she could live with it, but the die had been cast.

When she glanced back at the couple, Leto was looking into his Champion's eyes, one hand cupping her cheek. She was crying. She watched her brother wipe a tear away with his thumb, looking close to breaking himself.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"You have such amazing timing," The Champion said, with a half smile and tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Leto pulled a small book from a pouch at his side and presented it to her. The tome was leather bound and looked ancient. She took it gently, thumbing through the fragile pages carefully.

"Tevinter," Hawke said, a creeping sadness in her voice. "What is it about?"

"With your help I was able to rediscover some of these poems and memories of them began to return. I think my mother used to recite some of them. It is a book of well-known Tevinter love poetry," he admitted. Varania noticed some color come to her brother's cheeks and he looked at his feet.

"Fenris," The Champion said, pushing his chin up so he would meet her eyes, "Thank you."

Varania watched as their lips met again. If a kiss could look sad, this one carried the weight of all of the world's injustices. It was slow and hungry and Varania was crushed beneath the weight of it. Leto whispered to her, "I am yours, Marian." She buried her face between his neck and shoulder, pulling him closer.

Then, it was over and Danarius was there, ordering his men to bind The Champion again. Their clasped hands were pulled apart and Varania heard her cry out his name. Leto looked at his Champion, appearing to see no one else, as he allowed himself to be dragged from the room.