Chapter 8: Exposure

"Be silent!" It was a harsh whisper, as loud as he dared make it. If he could have shouted it, he would have. If he could have shaken her while he shouted it, he would have done that too. "You will stand there, silent, and you will let me handle the speaking. Do you understand?"

Marian opened her mouth, as if to speak but Fenris lifted a gauntleted finger and narrowed his eyes from under his hood. She thought better of testing him any further and simply nodded her head in assent.

He was certain that in the entirety of his life, even in the past he could not remember, no one had ever spoken to him as much as Marian had in the last hour. After the dwarf's interrogation they decided to return to the Iron Lady and question the prostitutes. She said if at least one of the Antivans had a whore they were partial to he was sure to have spilled some information in addition to spilling...other things. The relentless speaking, that took the form of arguing, came when he attempted to get her to cooperate with a sensible plan in which they would avoid unwanted attention.

He merely suggested she dress in something that was neither leather nor metal and relinquish her daggers in favor of her staff, or her father's staff as she had corrected him. He would also make a sacrifice by leaving his greatsword behind to instead carry her daggers at his hip. If she at least appeared to be a magister in passing, he could pretend to be her bodyguard and no one would look twice. "This is not the backwaters of Fereldon", he tried to reason with her. "Outside of the docks, people here do not leave their homes looking like armed militia awaiting attack from wild beasts. And a human woman walking side by side with an elf is simply not done in the better parts of the city." To which he then had to listen to a seemingly endless rant about the injustices in the Imperium and her opinions on how to improve things before she finally acquiesced and changed her clothes. He then had to physically take her daggers from her as she clutched them to her chest. He was certain, however, that she had somehow managed to conceal a knife of some sort on her person.

Then, as they walked, she kept trying to turn behind her and speak to him. He had to pull her aside into an alley to explain his attempts at silencing her with menacing looks. "These people need to believe I am your slave. You should not be trying to engage me in idle conversation." Another rant followed.

They were able to get the name of the whore favored by the leader of the Antivan slavers from one of the young serving girls washing laundry in the small yard behind the brothel. The plan now was to purchase said whore and question him while they were in the private of his room. No one would need to be killed, no weapons would need to make an appearance, and they would appear to be just another set of customers. She simply had to remain silent and let Fenris pretend to be her servant acquiring her entertainment for the evening. And yet, more complaining commenced.

"I refuse to let you pretend to be my slave! You are not a slave and I am not some morally corrupt magister…" and on and on it went until he again pulled her aside and finally just commanded her to be silent. She nodded and took it better than he expected. If he were honest with himself, it was easier for him to do than he would have thought, commanding someone so imperiously. Interesting.

"Now, let's go. And try to appear haughtier and not quite so..."

xxxx

Aroused. There it was again. That deliciously stimulated feeling he awoke inside her. He actually looked very intimidating in his frustrated state, as he ordered her around. Intimidating and very arousing.

"...dumbfounded." Fenris finished his sentence.

Slightly crestfallen that he had mistaken her desire for idiocy, she carried her father's staff and walked along as she was told, handsome elf at her heels. She absently thought that she would never have put up with being ordered around by Anders. In the past, she had only ever been the one to take charge, in all situations. Necessity dictated it more often than not and it suited her personality. This deference to Fenris that she found herself so quick to succumb to was so out of character for her she hardly knew how to proceed.

They entered the brothel and a cloying smell of flowers and spices hit her and stuck inside her nostrils. Her nose twisted involuntarily in disgust. Well that takes care of looking haughty, she thought. Fenris stepped past her and approached the Madame who was standing at the end of a long bar.

"My mistress would like to purchase the services of Perrin." Hawke cringed both at being referred to as 'mistress' and at the fact that she was pretending to buy a whore for the night. She took the time to look around as Fenris appeared to be negotiating a price. Busty women and well built men in various forms of undress; besotted customers all too eager to give their coin for a quick tumble. Brothels were very much the same in any city, she imagined. She was starting to feel dirty just standing there. Apparently having come to an agreement, Fenris gave the Madame her payment and turned back to Hawke.

He leaned in to her ear and said "Upstairs, second door on the right." Then he bowed slightly and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She arrived at the closed door of the prostitute Perrin's room and was about to knock when she heard a low growling behind her.

"Are you daft, woman, do not knock! This is not an audience with the Archon, just go in."

Again she obeyed him, but not before she stuck out her tongue at him.

Inside the comfortable looking room, a shirtless and handsome young elf sat at the edge of a large bed. He rose upon their entry and moved to "greet" Hawke. Fenris shut the door behind him and intercepted the other elf, standing between him and Hawke.

"Do Not Touch" Fenris said menacingly. When Perrin smiled and attempted to change his focus to Fenris, Hawke felt the now familiar low pulse of his lyrium even before it was able to glow. It was her turn to intercept the approaching elf before the poor thing found a fist in his chest.

She laid a gentle hand on Fenris's arm to help soothe the lyrium's pull and she stepped between the two of them. "That goes for him too, dear."

Perrin now appeared confused and a little disappointed. "So, do you just want me to watch the two of you..." He smiled suggestively.

"Tempting, but not tonight." Hawke winked at Fenris who was wearing a look she could not quite read. "Have a seat back on the bed, we just want to ask a few questions."

xxxx

They had smuggled themselves onto a rooftop. It had not been easy with Marian awkwardly balancing a staff and wearing only a short tunic. A short tunic that afforded Fenris several views that threatened to distract him from his purpose tonight. His mind kept wandering to what exactly the elf at the brothel thought he was going to watch them do. He adjusted himself more than once and hoped Marian had not noticed. Also more than once, she shot him a silent glare that clearly said "you should have let me wear what I wanted and not bring this staff". He ignored them, grateful she continued to obey him and remain blessedly silent.

When they finally settled in, hidden by shadow, they observed the comings and goings of the nondescript manor across the way. With a wink and one of her smiles, Marian was able to obtain all the information they could have hoped for. The whore was all too happy to give over whatever he knew about the slavers. There were several bits of detail Fenris could have done without. Sexual fetishes aside, the information proved accurate. They were directed to this manor in one of the higher class districts and over the past hour they had seen not only the slavers come and go from its doors but also several people who likely were working for the Kirkwall merchant hauling crates and other packages.

"I feel magic." She whispered. Marian had her eyes closed and nose stuck up appearing to sniff the air. "I can guarantee they are not just running a shipping operation out of that building." Fenris frowned and kept his hands busy fondling his borrowed daggers. They were not prepared right now to approach and investigate further. They were not armed enough to charge in, and not unencumbered enough to sneak in. They would have to plan a course of action and return here later.

"Fenris, I need to ask you something." she turned to face him with a serious expression. "When we come back to clear that house out," She had obviously come to his same conclusions, "I'm going to need to use magic." He gripped the daggers in his hands tighter. "If you would be willing to tell me how it affects you...to be near it or to have someone heal you, or cast protection spells on you, I can find a way to make it less..."

He interrupted her, "If you are referring to the spell that activated the lyrium in my markings when you first came to my aid, do not concern yourself. I trust you would not attempt to do that. I am perfectly able, to bear normal magic." He sneered at her in the darkness. He had not meant to sound so disgusted. He had to tell himself she was only trying to protect him.

She didn't respond. A fleeting look of determination passed her face and then her eyes were pools of dark calm. She extended her hand to him and paused, hovering above his own. Then she lowered it very softly onto his. He let her do it, more curious than wary. Faint white gossamer strands of light extended from her hand and wrapped themselves around his wrist and fingers. The lyrium lines in his hand began to glow. He braced himself for the familiar burn, but none came. He was taken aback. He had never felt magic like this, and certainly never directed at him. The strings of light felt cool twined around him and rather than feel the pull as the lyrium ignited, he felt it flow, like water through his hand.

Marian removed her hand slowly, avoiding his wide eyed gaze. She looked out over the rooftops before them and rested her chin in her hand, the illuminated threads dying out like embers in the breeze. "Every mage's magic feels different. Now you know what mine feels like."

Fenris couldn't find the words to describe it.

xxxx

Her companion was silent as they walked back to the inn. Hawke knew it had been a risk, deliberately exposing him to her magic, but she could not, would not take the chance of harming him in the middle of a fight even unintentionally. She had no idea what kind of magic had been involved in making his markings, and yet she knew for certain it was magic that should never have been used. Though he had not spoken, he did not appear to be truly angry or damaged in any way, so she decided to let him brood uninterrupted.

Again it was nearing dawn when they arrived 'home', such that it was. The inn was silent, its other occupants likely all passed out in their beds sleeping off the night's debauchery. Marian approached the door to her room. She was a little surprised that Fenris continued to follow closely, and did not veer away to his own door. She wasn't about to say anything to stop him, so she opened her door.

Someone was in her room. Before she could even form her next thought, Fenris had pushed her behind him and had a dagger in his hand poised to attack the intruder. Peeking from behind the tall elf, she could see suntanned skin and long dark hair and she heard a voice with a familiar swagger.

"Miss me, sweet thing?"