Chapter 10

Fenris sat on a broken slab of a pillar as he sharpened his greatsword, each stroke precise and with more force than was necessary. Every now and again he would glance out of the corner of his eye to glare at Jakson who was sitting quietly away from the group attempting to read his new book. The mage appeared to be upset and refused to talk to anyone, but why should Fenris care? The man had been lying since the first time they met, mages truly were all the same.

Fenris set his whetstone aside as he noticed Carver stomping towards him, a menacing look on the boy's face. He stopped just short of the elf before pointing an accusing finger toward Fenris "What the bloody Hell is wrong with you!?"

Fenris scoffed, he knew exactly what the warrior was going on about. "I spoke the truth, nothing else."

"Look at my brother! He looks like someone upset him... oh that's right, because you did!"

"He is an abomination, just like the other mage. You stand with the templars' decisions at every turn unless it should affect your brother. He will turn on you like every other mage and yet you defend him. He will use you to gain power."

"You know nothing about him!"

"What exactly else is it I need to know besides the fact he is possessed?" Fenris stood up and glared defiant forest green eyes at equally defiant blue ones. "What exactly will change my mind on what he is?"

Carver growled at the elf. He unstrapped his bracers and tossed them to the dirt. He waved his burnt arms in the other's face. The wounds looked as though they would have hurt a great deal when they were first received. They wound all the way around the man's forearms "Do you know how I got these? Jakson. He did this, but before you say anything listen!"

Fenris pressed his lips together to keep silent as he listened. They were children and Carver had done something incredibly stupid to his brother, humiliated him or something. It was a long time ago so no one really knew how the argument started or why. The boys just knew they were both being stupid at the time.

Jakson couldn't control his emotions and became angry and upset. The next thing the boys knew Carver's arms felt like they were melting off as he screamed in agony. Flames consumed his arms, spreading quickly. Carver's arms were on fire and all of a sudden he was freezing cold as he hit the pond they had been standing next to. Jakson had shoved him into the water to put the flames out, but Carver's arms still burned once he was dragged back out. Jakson ran home like the wind to get their mother who applied some healing salve on the wounds. Their father was away for work so by the time he arrived back home he could not heal the scars away, only soothe the remaining pain. That's the first time Jakson had used magic, that's how they learned that he was a mage.

"What's your point?" Fenris bit out.

"Jakson felt horrible. He spent weeks doing whatever I wanted. And every time he saw these he turned away in shame, because he did this. He would curse magic everyday for months when he thought he was alone and never has he used fire magic since then. You want to know why he jokes? It's because he thinks that if he can make light of something he won't get mad and end up frying someone. So before you make any bloody assumptions try to understand him first!" Carver left without another word forgetting his bracers that still lay in the dirt.

Jakson continued trying to read his book but found he couldn't as he saw Carver storm off out of the corner of his eye. He had read the same paragraph nine times now and he still didn't know what was going on. What made it even harder to concentrate besides the hole he seemed to have dug himself into was his brother's shouting. Even though he was perched a ways from the others he still heard every word. Jakson loved Carver, he really did but he wished that his brother would just leave things be. Jakson knew from day one that the likely hood of him and Fenris actually getting along was slim to none. How often did mage hating people befriend a mage? Only in fairy tales. Yet Jakson hoped that it would turn out differently. For a time it seemed like less a dream and more a reality when he got the elf to laugh or smile but now that was over and Carver wouldn't let it lie.

He pretended to read as a figure moved out of the edge of his vision. The figure stopped right in front of him, a growling noise of irritation emanating from it. He risked a glance up to see the elf staring down at him with arms crossed over his chest, a scowl etched on his face. Jakson had the distinct impression he was silently being judge by the elf and found it disquieting to say the least.

"Can I offer you a seat?" the mage cracked a strained smile. "There's plenty of room on my boulder if you wish, or you could sit on a different boulder. There's quite a selection of boulders you know. Big, small, round, jagged, nonmagical. I know it's so hard to choose but I personally prefer flat ones."

An irritated sigh escaped his companion as the elf sat down across from him. They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Jakson could only guess the elf wanted a full explanation of what happened earlier… or maybe the warrior was trying to figure out the best way to kill him and wanted some input, Jakson wasn't entirely sure with the unreadable expression that now graced the other's face. Just as the silence began to feel like hours Fenris spoke "I… may have been too harsh… in my judgment."

"No, it was… fine."

"You're a horrible liar when you're upset. You may be an abom… I mean possessed but…"

"I'm not possessed." At Fenris' disbelieving look Jakson decided to clarify and just be honest. Lying was what got him in this mess wasn't it? Not that he lied to his friends, but half truths counted. Or Jakson thought they did. From Anders explanation earlier it did sound like a spirit was sharing his body but that wasn't the case at all and he hoped that Fenris would understand.

After his father passed away, Jakson had been forced to take up the mantle of responsibility, to watch vigilantly over his family. He tried his best to keep his family safe from bandits and keep food on the table but it was never easy. One year bandits had attacked Lothering and there were only a few healthy men who took arms up against the bandits including himself and his brother. Carver had been seriously injured, a blade run straight through him. He had lost a lot of blood and Jakson risked having someone witness his magic to help his brother, but even with his level of healing he wasn't sure he'd save Carver in time. All of a sudden an invigorating energy flowed through him and out his hands to wash over the wound. The wound closed and his brother was alive, weak but breathing and all the bandits were dead or fleeing.

For awhile Jakson didn't know where the power came from until he was visited by a spirit in the Fade as he slept. She claimed to be a Spirit of Hope who had decided to offer her aid to a kind man, that man being Jakson. Hope had witnessed few people who would fight when they were outnumbered or who cared for others so much that they would risk their own health to save someone. She also said she had met no one else who hoped for better conditions for others but was not blinded by the theory that everything would work out. There was a difference between optimists who believed only good would happen only to be disappointed when it was less than the best and those who hoped and strived for better but didn't expect the world to bow at their feet.

She expressed a desire to help him and others only if Jakson allowed her aid. He was about to refuse at first. His father had warned him and Bethany of spirits, or more specifically demons, trying to possess mages. Demons would sneak into your mind and use your deepest desires to get a hold in the mortal realm and they could take any form, they could even disguise themselves as benevolent spirits. Before he could refuse, however, Hope told him she had no craving for the mortal world. She had no interest of stepping into such a chaotic place but she did want to aid it. Because a mage is always connected with the Fade, even when awake, she would be able to stay in the Fade and lend her strength when Jakson needed it. Jakson accepted her help and for the past several years she never asked for a thing in return and never tried to step into his mind.

"She? I was not aware that Fade creatures had genders."

"They don't, not really. Hope just prefers the persona of a woman. But that's not important. Hope is a benevolent spirit, she embodies one of our virtues."

"I don't think I ever considered hope a virtue, more like a fools' notion."

"I thought the same thing but then again joy doesn't sound much like a virtue either but it is."

"How can you be so sure she won't turn on you?"

"I hope. That's pretty much my thing, hoping… and witty remarks during the most inappropriate times! But seriously, if she is a Spirit of Hope what exactly is she going to do? I understand that Justice was morphed into Vengeance but I'm not sure how that works on Hope. Maybe she'd turn into a Spirit of Angst or Pessimism! I'm not planning on having someone living in my head though. I already have trouble keeping my own thoughts straight let alone two people's thoughts in order."

"You have shown far more restraint than any mage… any man I have encountered, my treatment was…"

"Expected." Fenris turned a surprised look at the man but he didn't catch it as he tried to stare at anything besides the elf, his eyes finally falling on the floor. "Magic is dangerous. It can help… just as easily as it can destroy. If you want the truth then I would give up magic in a heartbeat if I could, but I can't. I know that… I'm a danger but I hope that the only thing I do is help others."

Fenris sat frozen for a moment. This was the first time he really heard Jakson say anything about magic since the first time they met. He remembered how Jakson had stopped his brother from arguing with the elf claiming he, like any mage, could fall to temptation. What he said surprised him. Jakson knew he was dangerous and understood others' fears when many mages didn't care what others felt. "Perhaps… we should start over?"

The mage lifted his head in shock. He saw Fenris' sincere face and gave a warm smile, his silver eyes dancing in amusement as he extended his hand. "How do ya do? I'm Jakson Hawke, and you are?"

Fenris couldn't prevent a corner of his mouth from twisting into a smile as he reached for the outstretched hand with his own gauntleted one. "Fenris."

"Ah now there's a handsome smile!" Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Jakson scolded himself but was pleasantly surprised when he was rewarded with a chuckle from the elf. The laugh was warm and inviting making Jakson feel bubbly inside.

I told you not to give up hope.

Yes, you can do the "I told you so" dance now.

The what?

Never mind.

Just then Jakson noticed a dark splotch on the other man's leather coat, just above the man's hip. He would have just brushed it off but the stain seemed to be increasing slowly in size and he could make out the faint color of red in the firelight. He also noticed what appeared to be three sets of stitch marks where the stain was. It then clicked that nobody had checked on Fenris after the battle with the dragon. Jakson had only just finished healing Carver when the elf marched away in anger after he heard of the mage's secret friend. It shouldn't have been surprising that he hadn't sought the aid from either mage but it also seemed just a tad moronic.

"Should I be worried that you're bleeding and haven't said a single word about it?" The elf seemed to squirm visibly in his seat. "I hear blood stains are a pain to wash out."

"I applied herbs to it and drank a health poultice but it seems that the wound was greater than I thought."

"Well, unless you plan to continue bleeding to death I suggest you show me the wound." The elf stiffened in his seat. "I don't have to use magic." Jakson quickly threw his hands up in a peaceful manner. "I know herbal medicine just as well and can probably stop the bleeding."

"I… have no problem with you using your healing magic." Jakson didn't notice the slight blush that crept up the elf's neck as he was too busy trying to find the best way to get to the wound. Fenris removed his breastplate and lifted his leather tunic just enough to reveal the wound. Three claw marks were a bright angry red against the tan flesh. The mage moved his hand over the wound before looking back up to see the elf's head turned away.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes" came the short reply and it was true. Fenris didn't mind the magic but only because it was not being used to bend him against his will. Danarius had many times used magic on him, making his body feel so heavy that he would collapse to the floor or have his skin burn that no amount of cold water would help. His lyrium markings increased the affect of magic on his person if a mage was close near. Strangely enough he seemed more resistant to magic if a caster was a fair distance away. But the closer and the more painful a spell could be. Where one would normally only feel a small zap from electricity Fenris would find his entire body convulse as though struck by lightning. It was how Danarius controlled him, one wrong move and the elf would be put back in place with the slightest wave of the hand.

This meant though, that the affect of healing magic increased tenfold as well but not in an unpleasant way. Since meeting up with Jakson and his band of misfits he had run into more trouble than he would have liked, mind you the constant battles kept his wits about him. Many times he would find himself wounded, though not severely. Jakson offered to heal him and every time the healing magic ebbed off the mage's fingers Fenris felt a warm, soothing sensation hit his markings and despite the fact that his injury was only in one place the soothing energy followed the lines of his markings until it engulfed his entire body. Never before had he felt such pleasure and he craved more but he also wished for it to never happen again. On more than one occasion the warmth spread to even his more private areas, stirring it to life and he was thankful that his long vest hid his arousal.

What was strange was that it only happened around Jakson. When Anders healed him he found a similar warmth but it wasn't as strong or caring, it felt rushed, urgent and it didn't envelope him. Even now he fought to keep himself hidden, hoping the mage was too distracted to notice the bulge in his breeches. He let a breath he didn't realize he had been holding out when the mage pulled back with a smile.

"All done." Fenris reached down and found his skin smooth to the touch, the wounds gone just like Carver's with no scar left behind.

"Are you two lovebirds done making up?" The two jumped back to turn toward the dwarf. The man was as silent as a chantry mouse when he wanted to be and by the smirk plastered on the dwarf's face the two could only assume he heard every word. The elf just hoped his vision wasn't as good as his hearing, Maker knew the dwarf didn't need any more fodder for his stories. "Good! We can play a round of Diamondback now."

Varric rounded up both the disgruntled Anders and similarly disgruntled Carver to play. It was terrifyingly quiet, mostly with Jakson glaring at Carver and Anders for glaring at Fenris who was either unaware of their glares or just didn't care while Varric seemed to be jotting down something in a leather bound book. Someone needed to say something cheerful or Jakson was going to go insane, luckily Varric got the hint.

"So… The Axe and the Wand? I didn't know you were into those sappy romances, Hawke."

"It's not just a romance, it has plenty of sword fights and undead and what not too."

"It's a romance, Hawke." Anders set his cards face down as he began to recite some of the story in a dramatized fashion. "He gently took her hand, kissing the palm and continued moving his way upward until…"

Jakson felt his face heat up and threw his hands out in exasperation. "I never said it wasn't a romance! I just said there was more to it!"

"You wouldn't have gotten the second book if you didn't like sappy, steamy romances." Anders and Varric smirked at Jakson who just pouted back at them.

"Can we talk about something else please?"

"Sure." Varric shrugged as he drew from the deck. "How bout explaining why you have a naked lady impaled on a stick."

"This?" Jakson pulled the golden staff from his back. He set the bottom on the ground while the golden top caught the light from the fire. The silhouette of a woman stood tall with arms spread out. Two blades that resembled wings sprouted from her back. "It belonged to my father. Mother gave it to me a few weeks ago. She said that father wanted me to have it when I was older."

"But why a naked woman? Wouldn't it make more sense if it were a naked man since you swing that way?"

"One: I don't think my father would magically change the gender of his staff to suit me when he passed it on. Two: I think he gave it to me because I don't like women."

"Huh?" seemed to be the unanimous response of the group.

"Let's say Isabela had this, what do you think she would do with it?"

"Fondle it."

"Exactly! I'm not about to go feeling up my staff when it has tits, besides there's already one person here who has an inappropriate relationship with their weapon. I don't think we need another."

"Why are you all looking at me? I'm a perfect gentleman to Bianca."

"Anyway, I think we need another new line of conversation" The group nodded in agreement, playing only a couple of games before retiring for the night.

Bartrand rattled everyone awake to get the expedition moving again, they were only a few hours from their destination after all. Once at the Thaig the companions ventured ahead to look for anything valuable and came across a side chamber. Jakson felt the pull of magic as they ventured further in and by the look on Anders face he felt it too.

On an altar was a glowing red statue made of pure lyrium, tendrils of magic seeping from its core. The mages examined it closely and Jakson had a bad feeling nagging at him. It was powerful, probably the most potent lyrium he had ever come across. For a brief second he thought he heard something whispering in his ear before Varric snatched it away to toss off to Bartrand who'd followed them.

As Jakson continued looking about the room he heard stone grinding against stone and turned to see the door closing shut. He raced down the stairs only to be too late to keep the door from closing. Varric yelled for his brother, hoping he would open the door. He didn't.