Fenris walked the streets of low town towards his anticipated destination. He didn't feel well his head was still swimming from the poisonous gas. The foul smell of it was still stuck in his nostrils and clung to his armor. He did not want to appear weak in front of Hawke and the others so when the task was done he excused himself and found a dark alley to try to clear his lungs. He remembered how panicked he felt when the Arishok told them of the poisonous formula and how the fanatic factions of humans intended to use it. He remembered his relief when he found that the part of Lowtown the poison was in was not near Sage's home. Now that his adrenaline was ebbing he realized he was not as resilient to the poison as he thought he was. Plus, he was late for his dinner appointment. He knew the minute he got there Sage would fuss over him.

Sage stood over the hearth and stirred the pot of stew. The sun had set still there was no sign of Fenris. Perhaps he had changed his mind, perhaps everything he had learned about himself and his growing feelings were too much and instead he chose his old ways of coping by running away. She couldn't help but worry about him. She remembered those first few years after leaving Tevinter, being alone and always looking over her shoulder. She knew her master was dead but that knowledge didn't alleviate the years of being hyper vigilant. Fenris' master was still alive; his nightmare wasn't over yet. She knew that Fenris was physically strong enough to stand up to Denarius; it was the mental hold he had on him that all masters have over their slaves. This was her point of concern. She understood that Fenris still trusted Hawke but she wasn't so sure about whether he should; after all they had a falling out.

Suddenly there was the seven rhythmic knocks at the door. As Sage turned around the door open and there stood Fenris leaning heavily on the door frame, his breathing was labored and he was wheezing a great deal. He started to slide down but Sage made it to him just in time. Grabbing his arm and putting it round her shoulder she helped him into the nearest chair. The sharp smell of acidic chemicals clung to him and immediately she recognized it. "Saar-qamek poison," she shuddered, "Fenris does this have to do with the Qunari?"

Fenris nodded his head but at that moment he bent over and started to retch. Sage was quick grabbing her nearest waste bucket; she got it under him. Fenris was mortified but Sage gave no indication of being put off. She rubbed his back till he was finished. She then handed him a clean rag to wipe his face. He tried to thank her but he could not get enough breath to his lungs.

Sage took his hand, "I'm going to heal you now. Whatever happened, stay calm."

Fenris trusted her implicitly and tightened his grip in her hand. He tried to relax as much as his labored breathing would let him and Sage closed her eyes; starting to concentrate. The warm golden glow, that Fenris had become so familiar with, emanated and waved off with Sage. Her energy spread out and encapsulated them. She searched out his body and found the damage in his lungs. Gently she soothed the burned edges, her magic neutralizing the poison. From there her energy floated and caressed the rest of his body, healing and making the poison inert wherever it was found.

Sage's magic had become familiar to him and he welcomed its warm embrace. He could feel every touch soft and sensuous as it surrounded him and passed through him. His breathing eased, his lungs stop burning. The aches and pains of battle subsided and he realized he was exhausted. It was at that moment that his own energy responded. The cool blue light rose up and connected with the warm golden light. The energies mingled dancing through each other. His body started to respond in a way he hadn't expected. It felt like Sage was touching more than just his hand but he knew better. He had never felt so embraced and utterly safe. He was more than willing to stay suspended in their magical touch but as soon as his body was completely healed he felt their energies start to pull away. "Funny" he thought to himself, "who would've ever thought I would enjoy the touch of magic this much." But as their energies receded, he felt relaxed, a little aroused and somewhat sad. This was getting more powerful, more intimate and still he wanted more.

When he opened his eyes Sage was looking down at him, "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." He answered, his voice was raw.

Sage poured him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully and drank. "Did you notice something different?" She asked him.

He stiffened at her question knowing his body still felt slightly aroused, as a bit of color tinted his cheeks."Yes, it felt… It's getting…more…physical."

"Yes, that would be a good description." She smiled sideways at him. "Curious, I wonder…"She didn't finish her thought.

"What is curious?"

"Just a theory I have. I need to do some testing and I'm not sure if you're going to like it."

"And why do you think that?" His voice was tense.

"Well… It involves blood."

"Surely you're not intending to do blood magic." His tone was defensive.

"I'm not sure how to answer that… It involves a drop of blood from both of us and magic is involved but the blood itself is not fueling the magic."

"I see… Very well if it will give us some answers but I'm not fond of anything that involves blood and magic." He sighed not realizing he was holding his breath. "I trust you and you are far more knowledgeable about these things than I am."

Fenris inhales deeply it was then that he noticed the smell of rot. "What is that horrid stench?"

Sage smiled at him and lifted her eyebrow, "That would be you. Actually when the Saar-qamek is neutralized it has this terrible smell but it lets you know when it's harmless."

"Fasta vass! How do you put up with this… sickness?" Fenris wrinkled his nose.

Sage laughed at him, "It's part of the job description. Come on let's get you cleaned up."

"I am perfectly capable of cleaning up myself!" He tried to stand up but the room tilted so he sat back down.

"Right," Sage crossed her arms and shifted to one hip. "I'm going to go fill the tub; sit still and I'll help you, O stubborn one." She turned and headed towards the washroom.

Fenris knew he was defeated; his traitorous body refused to follow his commands. Between the poison and the energy merge, his equilibrium was being challenged. He waited obediently hoping that Sage wouldn't take too long sense he couldn't stand the smell of himself.

Fenris was in heaven, although he was one to never admit it. But Sage knew different, his deep throated moans of pleasure gave him away as she ran her fingers through his white hair; shampooing away the dreadful smell. Fenris had become very comfortable with her. He had lost his inhibitions of being nude around her although he still blushed slightly when she helped him to undress and get into the hot water. It was more because of the body contact; the feel of her hands on his bare skin, her closeness. He hadn't realized how much he missed her touch and when she offered to wash his hair he couldn't refuse. She had taken care of his armor too, she cleaned it and set it out to air on the roof of her dwelling. Fenris didn't know if he could ever completely get used someone taking care of him but with Sage he was willing to try.

Sage was lost in her own thoughts for a moment when something occurred to her, "Fenris, did you have any healing potions with you?"

"I borrowed one from Varric but it didn't seem to work." He answered.

"And you didn't find that unusual?"

"I thought perhaps it was just old."

"Um… I just delivered an order of healing potions to Varric yesterday. Those were new and at full strength." She said firmly.

"Where are you going with this?" His tone was terse.

"What about the healer? Didn't you have a healer with you?"

"Anders was there." He sneered slightly.

"The same Anders that lives with Hawke; he's a mage? Didn't he try to heal you?" Sage sounded confused.

"Yes, much to my disapproval and dislike. He attempted to heal me."

"Attempted? And what happened?"

"Where you going with this?"

"Please Fenris just answer my question it's important."

"It hurt… I mean when he tried to use his magic… It rebounded, I think… Anyway, gave us one wicked shock. Although, I think he got the worst of it." A wicked smile crept across his lips.

Sage sat there shocked and didn't say anything. Her prolonged silence started to cause him discomfort and he turned around to look at her. The look on her face scared him, it was the first time he'd ever seen her pale. When she finally spoke her voice was a low whisper. "I was able to heal you."

"Yes, and you're the only healer I trust or want."

"But I'm not always around; my magic is making you more vulnerable. This is not good… I was afraid something would happen."

"Sage, I hate to see you like this; it frightens me. Tell me what I need to do to make this better."

"I need to go to Sundermount. I need to speak to the Dalish leader. Maybe she might have some answers." She put her hand on his face, "Come with me tomorrow Fenris, I don't think we should be apart until we figure this out."

"Anything you wish, I'm here for you."

"And I am here for you."

Sage had brought various plant materials, tinctures and oils. It was obvious that she had established some kind of rapport with these people long ago. When Sage and Fenris entered the Dalish camp, the guards looked up and smiled at her; their reception was warm and they bowed as she passed. This was a far cry when he had entered this camp with Hawke or any time he entered this camp with Hawke. It was apparent that Sage had the respect of these Dalish and that was an amazing accomplishment, since the Dalish trust no one except the Dalish.

Sage made her way to their leader Marethari. When Sage approached the Dalish leader, Marethari turned around and gave Sage a slight bow. Fenris recalled seeing the young Dalish blood mage do the same to the Witch of the Wilds. Did the Dalish know of Sage's longevity and what legends had they spun of her existence? "Welcome, Shaisalli. It is an honor to have you among the people." Marethari greeted her.

Sage seems a little embarrassed, "Please rise Marethari, I wish the people would not bow so quickly."

"Shaisalli, you bare your power with grace. The people cannot help but show their respect." Marethari rose up.

"Very well, this is my good friend Fenris. We have come to ask questions about the traditions of the Dalish."

"Ah yes, the same young elf that accompanied Messarh Hawke here once before," acknowledged Marethari

"Yes, I am the same elf." Fenris answered.

"Keeper, I need to understand the tradition of Vallaslin." Said Sage broaching the subject.

"As you know, Shaisalli, that is one of our most sacred rituals."

"I would not ask if it wasn't important. I understand how Dalish traditions are held close. Let me explain first," Sage took Fenris by his arm and undid his gauntlet exposing his forearm and hand to the Dalish keeper. "As you can see my friend here has been tattooed."

"I see that but these are not Dalish tattoos."

"No they are not Dalish tattoos however, I believe that the ritual of Vallaslin was used in some way when he received them."

"But who outside the Dalish would know this ritual."

"Is it possible that the magistrates of Tevinter have this knowledge or maybe something similar to it?"

"I suppose it's possible. The ritual and the tradition are old but not nearly as old as many of our other traditions."

"That's what I thought too and that's why I have come here to clarify that with you."

"Let me start from the beginning. The one who is to gain the Vallaslin must prepare by meditating on the gods and the ways of our people, they must purify their body and the skin. When the time comes, the clan's Keeper applies the blood writing. This must be done to past the ritual and be recognized as an adult of the Clan. Cries of pain are signs of weakness. If one cannot tolerate the pain of the blood writing, they are not ready to undertake the responsibilities of an adult."

Fenris broke eye contact with the keeper momentarily looking down at the ground. He felt somewhat embarrassed and ashamed.

Being an intelligent woman, Marethari sensed the internal struggle within him. She continued, "A keeper may stop the ritual if they decide that the one gaining the Vallaslin is not ready. There is no shame in this, for all children are different, and our ancestors once took centuries to come of age. We mark ourselves to stand out from humans and other elves who have chosen to live under human rule. The Vallaslin remind the people that we must never again surrender our beliefs."

"So it is true then; one's own blood is used to create ink for the markings."

"Of course, it would not be called blood writing otherwise."

"Keeper, there are those that would call things by names which they are not."

"I too know this as well."

"So this ritual dates back to the time of Andraste?"

"Yes according to the Keepers that have gone before me."

"So do you think it is safe to assume that this ritual began in or near Tevinter? And if that is the case, is it possible that the Vallaslin may have come from an older, possibly ancient Dalish ritual?"

"There's so much that we have lost about our history, our beliefs and our rituals. I believe that it is completely possible and that perhaps some fragments do exist. However, I would caution you as I've seen with my own eyes much of that ancient magic has been corrupted."

"May I ask your opinion on a variation of the ink itself?"

"Ask what you wish."

"Have you ever heard of powdered lyrium being added to the ink?"

"Goodness no! Lyrium is dangerous even under the best circumstances." The keepers eyes suddenly grew wide with understanding. She turned to Fenris, "You are saying that your markings…that the ink was created with your blood and lyrium."

Fenris lower his head and then looked at Sage. She answered for him, "Yes keeper, that is exactly what happened."

"By the dread Wolf, the cruelty of Tevinter knows no bounds." Marethari continued, "There is a very old legend, which goes back before the Dales. There is the mention of "special warriors" that are created by magic. But the story is incomplete and as to how these warriors came to be no one can remember anymore. The legend has been obscured by time. If a piece of that ancient magic is still out there I would not be surprised that the Tevinter magistrates are trying to reconstruct it."

"Thank you keeper, you have been very helpful. Now, I've brought the people these gifts. Please accept them."

"As always Shaisalli, you are kind and generous." Marethari bowed. Sage rolled her eyes and Fenris smirked at her expense.

The two companions walked out of the camp together. When they were far enough away Fenris turned to Sage. "Why do they call you Shaisalli?"

Sage smiled at him, "It's a name that the Dalish gave me long ago."

"Does it have a meaning?" He was curious.

"Yes, it means "eternal youth"." She sighed.

Fenris looked at her shocked, "So does that mean all the Dalish know?"

"Yes Fenris, all the Dalish know. Just like Flemith… I am a living legend."

*Credit Information
Dragon Age wiki, Codex entry: Vallaslin: Blood Writing, Retrieved July 31,2014,from: wiki/Codex_entry:_Vallaslin:_Blood_Writing

So as life is starting to happen it is taking me longer to get these chapters out. Don't worry, I will continue to write this story to the end, it just might take me a little longer to get each chapter out. Again Thank you for all your support I look forward to reading your comments. Elder Dragon HP