"Hold it, hold it," Varric made a stopping gesture, "When did you find out that when you got hurt, Danarius took the wound? That had to have been before you left Minrathous."

"It was," Fenris replied."Other than lessons with the Magistra, I had little to do, except eat and sleep—."

"Both of which you needed badly," Leandra interjected.

"—so I took to sparring with Aveline and Carver, to keep in training. The only time I even left the tower grounds was to accompany you to a play."

"The Princess of Birds," she nodded. "It was so very funny, and so unlike the dreadful old comedies from the ancients we had to study when I was a girl."

"I quite enjoyed seeing a play," Fenris reminisced. "It is disappointing that Kirkwall has no theater. It was an experience I would like to repeat. Danarius never went to see plays; perhaps because he did not like going anywhere that he could not be the loudest in the room, let alone having to be quiet for upwards of three hours."

"Ah, yes," Varric added. "Plays divert people from contemplation of the Maker, and making up things which never happened and presenting them as if they did, is forbidden here. Trampling on the Maker's prerogatives or something… I've written a few novels and they're always on the verge of being banned for exactly that. Well, that and the torrid bits. Censorship is a terrible thing."

"—We seem to be unable to stay on one topic," the elf observed. "No matter. Talking like this is—pleasant. To return to the discovery that my hurts were transferred to my former owner, it was while I sparred with Carter. A chance blow gashed my arm—I felt the cut for the briefest moment, saw the blood spring out—but by the time I wiped away the blood, before there was any pain, my flesh was whole and unmarked. Two nights later, when we went to the play, there was much discussion of how Danarius had inexplicably been injured, and speculation as to who had landed a lucky hit. The details—when it had happened and where on his person—matched. I have not been seriously injured since. I certainly do not rely on this transference to keep me from harm, as it may cease at any time when my former master realizes what is causing it. I have no delusions of immortality."

"Very wise, my broody friend," Varric wondered if he might sneak a shot from his flask into the cup of tea, and decided not to.

"I am not—never mind," the elf began.

Leandra took up the story, "Well, to return to our departure, Twyla and Aveline accompanied us down to the ship. We said goodbye—it is rather too private for me to share all the details with you, charming as you are. I doubt it was terribly original or that it would interest you very much, anyhow. 'I love you, I'll miss you so much, I'm so very proud of you.'—things like that."

"Your son was churlish in his parting," Fenris said. "She asked him, 'Will you not shake hands and part as friends, for Mother's sake?'

"He said he would not. They had been fighting again, I believe. I do not know what was said."

"I know," Leandra said. "On our last night together, he was trying to persuade her to come with us, and she would have none of it. His argument was that if she stayed, she would by degrees become desensitized to the decadence of Minrathous, and that running from Templars and the Chantry for the rest of her life would be better for her soul. Then he said she wanted us gone, not for our sake, but so she could behave as badly as she wanted to without us there to get in her way. It would have been better if she had not answered him just as strongly—fair is fair, and the blame is not all on Carver, for Twyla gave as good as she got. It did grieve me that he would not take her hand the day after, and it grieved her too. That is why I was so glad to see you step up, Fenris."

The elf stirred in his seat, "I will not say she had won me over. I had tried to provoke her—I had often been insolent in those past two weeks, and instead of being offended, she found my comments witty. I had never been punished. My sleep went uninterrupted. I missed no meals. She asked nothing of me, and she taught me the rudiments of reading. I still did not entirely believe she meant to free me, that at the last moment she would not prove as mocking and false as Hadriana. Yet the day had come, and there I was on the ship.

"'I would shake hands with you,' I said, and held mine out.

"'Thank you,' she replied and took it, 'my friend.'

"'I do not know what you are,' I told her, 'I would almost believe you were no mage, that you had hoodwinked the Archon and all the magisters, had I not seen you do magic. You find no pleasure in cruelty, you have no interest in power, and I do not understand you.'

"'That's all right. I don't understand me, either.'

"'I would like to believe you will stay who you are now, but if you do not, if you succumb to the lust for more and more power, if you—.' I was at a loss for a moment, flailing.

""If in a year I am up to my elbows in gore and performing blood magic with the rest of them?' she quoted my first words to her.

"'Then I would not hesitate before taking your head off, no more than any other.' I said.

"'Speaking as the person I am at this moment,' she paused. 'if you do, then I will have had no truer friend in this world.'

"I could not reply, so instead I changed the subject. 'Aron tells me you spoke to him of freeing him and keeping him on as a paid retainer. Do not do so too often. It is dangerous. That, to the magisters, would prove more offensive than if you walked up and slew any one of their number in the middle of the Arcanists' Hall, for it cracks the foundation on which their world is built. Slaves are slaves and must remain so. You would be declared insane, your property confiscated, all your dealings and transactions ruled null and void, including manumissions. All for your own good, of course. The mad are not treated well here. Do not let that fate be yours.'

"'I'll remember that. Thank you, Fenris. Had we—.' At that moment, a palanquin traveling as fast as its porters could run rounded the corner and stopped next to the dock. Danarius got out, his face taut and sweating, his arm cradled in a sling.

"'I shall destroy him,' she murmured to me. 'I have not yet worked out how, not without harming a great many others who may be innocent, and that is unacceptable to me. Open combat is not my strong suit.' Raising her voice as he made his way up the gangplank, she said, 'Magister Danarius! How good it is to see you, and how kind you are to come and bid my family farewell with me. I was very sorry to hear you were injured, and I would have sent medicine and fruit as we do in Fereldan, but everyone told me that would be an insult, so I did not. I am glad to see you are recovering so well. Look, Mother, our friend has come to see you and Carver off.' As much as I enjoyed the play, Magistra Hawke's acting was better. It is considered an insult among magisters to underscore that one is infirm, so she was not wrong.

"As when she had bought me, he was taken aback. 'Ah—yes, that is,-' He bade goodbye to you and your son, Serah Leandra, although you did not look as though you appreciated the effort he had made."

Leandra made a scoffing sound. "I wish you had told me before that she means to destroy him. I would have had some suggestions!"

"Be that as it may. He turned back to her. 'I understand you intend to send Fenris along to—.'

"'To Kirkwall, yes, where we have kin,' she replied. 'The voyage is not an easy one, and I think one warrior is not enough. I have given him very strict orders as to the safety of my mother, and what he is to do when he gets there.'

"'I do not think you understand the law,' he said, reining in his temper with an effort. Again, the scene was public, with witnesses. 'When he reaches Kirkwall—.'

"'I fear I don't understand,' she replied, looking dismayed as the sixth straight day of rain, 'for I bought him from you. Oh, you are concerned for me! You are so thoughtful. You need not worry, though. After your training and upbringing, I have every confidence that he will carry out my orders to the letter. Is that not so, Fenris?'

"'That is so, Magistra,' I replied. That is another moment which I savor. Among magisters there are many forms of aggression and insults both naked and veiled, but to be stroked with what seems like a feather and turns out to be a razor is rare, and to Danarius, unknown. He hardly knew he bled yet. Had she insulted him or not? Was my compliance a credit to him or an insult?

"Beg your pardons, Messere,' Captain Rivaini broke in, 'but we sail with the tide, and the tide is here. Time to clear my deck, if you would.' The Magistra got into her palanquin, which was on deck, and her porters carried her to the dock, with Aveline by her side as guard. Danarius returned to his, and left shortly there after, but Hawke's remained until we could see it no longer.'

A/N: Again, short but timely. Next chapter will explain how everyone winds up in one city again.