Chapter 7 - The Price of Pride
Cass breathed in the clear mountain air with a sigh of relief. It was good to get out of Kirkwall. She was thoroughly sick of the stink of the city, especially since she had spent the past two weeks trekking through the sewers with Anders, looking for the ingredients for some mysterious potion.
Nathaniel had not been happy when she'd told him about it. Not just because the smell of the sewers was clinging to her hair and clothes when she greeted him. He disapproved of her association with Anders, which came as no surprise, considering the mage's role in Morena's betrayal of him.
They had quarrelled - for the first time - a strangely subdued disagreement, without any of the passionate shouting and posturing Cass was used to.
"You can't trust Anders." Nathaniel's tone had been intense. "He will not hesitate to use you for his purposes, Cass, please believe me."
"He's my friend, Nathaniel." She'd been annoyed. "Just because he's done something stupid in the past doesn't mean he can never be trusted again."
When Nathaniel had left three days ago, the tension between them hadn't quite abated yet. He'd been disappointed that she wouldn't heed his advice. She missed him already and she hated leaving things like this between them. But her pride didn't allow her to consider the possibility that Anders had lied to her, that there was some hidden agenda behind his sudden interest in potion-making.
Up here, with a little distance between her and the mage, it was easier to be honest with herself. Truth be told, she had wondered as well... So many things in Anders' story didn't quite add up. Cass sighed and resolved to talk to Anders as soon as she got back to Kirkwall. She'd confront him about his plans, see if there was any truth to Nathaniel's allegations.
For now, though, they were headed for Sundermount once again, to see what could be done about Merrill's problems. Cass had been fascinated right from the start with her fellow mage's plan to restore the ancient Elven mirror. A real eluvian! Her father had fancied himself something of an expert in magical lore, and she had grown up with stories about the power of magical artefacts.
Cass had been eager to help Merrill, especially once she'd discovered the little mage wasn't quite as naive and clueless as she pretended to be. It wasn't so much that Merrill was deliberately deceiving people; just that she was content to let them underestimate her. She'd discovered early on that most humans thought her a harmless fool, and it suited her just fine. But there was nothing harmless about Merrill's magical powers, and as soon as Cass had realized that, she had suggested they teach each other their most powerful spells.
This time, however, Cass had a bad feeling. It was one thing to study the mirror's properties, one thing to repair it with the help of the Arulin'Holm. But now they were on their way to enlist a demon's help. A spirit, according to Merrill, but Cass was more than just a little sceptical. Still, it was probably safer if she was there to keep an eye on her friend.
Fenris was walking at her side, less than happy to be dragged along on this venture. He had made it perfectly clear to her that he thought it dangerous and ill-advised. But that was precisely why she wanted him along. If anyone would be able to slay a possessed Merrill, it would be Fenris.
None of them could have anticipated what awaited in the cave on top of the mountain, though. Fighting a demon was pretty much business as usual. But when they realized Marethari had taken the demon inside her, in order to make it possible for them to kill it, the Keeper's sacrifice shook them all to the core.
It got worse, when the Clan prepared to attack them in order to avenge Marethari. If it hadn't been for Cass' determined handling of the situation, it might well have ended in a massacre. Even so, Merrill was devastated. Cass was deeply worried about her friend, and when she overheard Fenris talking to her on the way back, she could barely believe her ears.
"I'm not sorry she's dead. I'm only sorry she died for you." When the words passed Fenris' lips, only Merrill's fragile state of mind kept Cass from making a scene right away.
Shooting an angry glance at him, she took Merrill's arm and kept her friend at her side all the way back to Kirkwall. When she had made sure the elf was properly settled in, with Varric close by to look after her, Cass set out for Fenris' mansion. She was almost too furious to speak.
"How could you?" Almost as soon as she saw him, seated at the table with a bottle of wine in front of him, she attacked him. "Blight it, Fenris, how could you talk to Merrill like that. Marethari was like a mother to her."
"A mother she killed with her stupid insistence on fooling around with demons." Fenris sneered. "She had a life. And a family. And she abandoned them to chase after ghosts. She as good as murdered the Keeper."
"Says the man who would have killed his own sister if I hadn't stopped him." Cass was too angry to mince words.
Fenris blanched. "That was a low blow." He swallowed, but made an effort to calm down. "Please set aside your anger for a moment, Cass. Can't you see that I'm genuinely worried for you?" Ignoring her angry snort, he went on. "Please don't go down the same road as she did. Nothing good can ever come of blood magic and demons."
Cass sighed. "I'm not like Merrill, Fen. I told you, I know what I'm doing."
He shook his head. "Think, Cass. That thing on the mountain... it was a Pride Demon. They rely on you being too sure of yourself. Don't make that mistake, I beg you. Promise me to stay away from blood magic."
Something in his voice, in the intense, almost desperate way he was talking to her, made Cass pause. Oh Maker, he does have a point. And he cares. This isn't about Merrill at all. It's about me. About his fear of losing me. It was like a sudden epiphany. Suddenly she realized what he'd been trying to say all the time.
"I promise, Fen." He was so surprised by her sudden acquiescence that he was gaping at her, struck speechless for a moment.
"I promise I'll stay away from blood magic," she repeated. "If it means so much to you..."
She stared at him, unshed tears burning in her eyes. "But if there ever comes a time when I have to decide between breaking my promise and letting you die, just like on the hunt... I'd do the same again, Fenris. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I can't live without you. You... mean so much to me."
Fenris made a curiously strangled noise, and she looked down at his hands. He was grabbing the edge of the wooden table so hard his gauntlets were leaving deep grooves in the wood, forcing himself to stay on his side of the table, to keep that last barrier between them.
Her eyes widened. "Fenris."
"Cass. Maker help me, I want..." He closed his eyes, trying to draw deep breaths, failing miserably.
"What do you want, Fenris?" Her voice sounded unfamiliar to herself, hypnotic, like a soft caress. What am I doing? This is madness. But she couldn't stop, couldn't desist. "Tell me."
"I..." He swallowed. "I want to touch you, Cass, so badly. Let my fingers run through your hair, down that perfect neck of yours, along your collarbone... I want to taste you on my lips, to breathe in your scent, to hear you moan for me..."
He opened his eyes, and she held his gaze, captivated by their emerald shine, unable to resist urging him on. "Go on," she whispered. "Don't stop."
He went on, his voice hoarse and trembling with the effort of keeping still. "I want to kiss you until you melt in my arms, I want to map every inch of your body with my hands, feel you shudder under me. I want..."
A small, helpless whimper escaped her half-opened lips, and he pushed himself backwards with full force, in a desperate attempt to put some distance between them, to break the spell. "Maker's mercy, get out, Cass. Get out now! Or I..."
She backed away, nodding, though the pain of leaving him like this almost killed her. Quickly she grabbed her coat and headed for the doorway. On the threshold, she turned around. "Forgive me, Fenris. I..."
"Get out!" He almost screamed at her.
When the door fell shut behind her, she closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to the cool stone of the wall, trying to regain her composure. This had to stop. She hated herself for doing this to him, when there was no way they could ever be together. Desperately she wished there was a way to erase the markings from his skin. She had freed him from Hadriana, from Danarius. But there was no escaping the lyrium brands. They still enslaved him, as effectively as any chain.
Hugs and thanks to zevgirl, who's not only a huge help with my writing, but also manages to cheer me up whenever I'm down.