Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any rights to the game. I do not benefit money in any way from these writings.

Chapter 11

"Why would I want to listen to anything you have to say, mage?" Fenris sneered. "I already know I'm going to have to play your slave in Minrathous. Did you come to gloat?"

Anders took a deep breath to keep from screaming back at the stupid elf. One of them had to be collected for this discussion, and it had to be him. So, ignoring the hatred and accusation in Fenris' eyes, Anders said, "It's about Salea."

That took Fenris by surprise. Of all the hundreds of things he expected from the abomination right then it certainly wasn't his lover's name. Normally it infuriated him to hear the mage call his lover by his first name. Everyone else called him Hawke or Champion. It felt too intimate calling Hawke by his given name-like it was something only family should be allowed to use, and Fenris couldn't help but feel he was the only one left in the world with the right to call him Salea.

But this time, the tone in the mage's voice helped him to overlook the offense. It was worried, anxious, determined. It caused Fenris no small amount of hesitation and confusion. Both were feelings he despised. They were unfamiliar to him and damned uncomfortable. He did not like having no control over a situation, and it was beginning to feel like an eternity since he'd last had any control over anything.

Fenris loosened his hold on the mage marginally. Slitting his gaze, he demanded, "What about Salea?" Then he remembered. "This is about your lie that day at your clinic."

A muscle in Anders' cheek twitched when he clenched his jaw. He should have known the ever-distrusting elf would see through the infection excuse. But it seemed Fenris had no idea what the lie was really covering up. This wasn't going to be pleasant. He knew that. Salea was supposed to be the one to break it to the elf, not him. But then, none of this was supposed to happen.

Now, nothing was certain. There was no guarantee that Hawke was still alive or would be when they found him. Salea may never get the chance to tell Fenris the miracle he was prepared to suffer for the elf. There was a very large part of Anders that could not bear the thought. The thought of Fenris not knowing the pain Salea had gone through to give his lover something so precious-it would feel so wasted, so wrong. Fenris had to know. He had to know because despite the fact that Anders felt the warrior elf did not deserve the rogue, Anders also knew that Salea had chosen Fenris. And so, Fenris had to be someone who deserved Salea-who would reciprocate that love and trust. Fenris couldn't be that person if he did not understand what Salea was willing to do for him.

There was a small part of Anders who expected…hoped the elf would recoil. It was a very small part of him that Anders hated. Not because he had any care for the elf's feelings, but Salea's happiness meant a great deal to him. Since that happiness was wrapped up in the elf, Anders hoped Fenris was a man of good character as Hawke always insisted he was.

These arguments hounded him since Hawke was taken. But with Minrathous within reach time was running out for keeping such a secret when none of them knew what they would find of Kirkwall's Champion.

Anders nodded slowly. "It was not an infection," he confirmed. "I was sure you wouldn't believe it, but Sal-Hawke insisted I make up something."

"What the hell is going on, mage?" Fenris growled in frustration, his patience growing thin very quickly. "Why did Salea wish to lie to me?"

It hurt then, and it hurt now. Like a reopened wound the reminder of the rogue's secrecy stung terribly. Even more so because the blasted mage was privy to whatever this secret was when Fenris had not been trusted with it.

Anders blinked wearily with a heavy sigh.

"Could you at least release me so we can talk like civilized people? It is a long story." The mage paused while the elf continued to glare at him. Then, he added, "Fenris, Hawke had every intention of telling you himself. He simply didn't get the chance with all that's happened."

That seemed to placate at least some small fear or pain that was haunting the elf, for he released Anders and stepped away.

Once they were on opposite sides of the small cabin, Fenris growled, "Talk."

It did indeed turn out to be a long story, as Anders said. Going back to the days he spent in Amaranthine with the Warden Commander.

"Her name was Velanna," Anders continued, speaking of the female dalish elf they'd conscripted into their small group of Grey Wardens. "She was a prickly thing, much like, well, much like you." Fenris was not amused. "She wouldn't let anyone really get to know her for a long time, but somehow the Warden Commander, Rowan," Anders paused. "He has a way with people, just like Hawke. Resist all you like but in the end you find yourself loyal to a fault to the man. Willing to befriend him, tell him anything. This happened with Velanna. She was very passionate about elf histories and tales, and furious that so much of it had been lost. What she did know, she didn't like sharing with anyone else, but there was one thing she told Rowan about."

Anders looked across at Fenris who'd stood perfectly still and silent since he began speaking.

"There is a ritual-another dark, evil spell, I'm sure you'd call it," Anders smirked at the elf, without really feeling any humor. "The people of the Dales protect the knowledge of this ritual fiercely. It's one of the few things their Keepers have made certain never to forget. Velanna was her Keeper's First, and so she was taught this ritual as part of her training to become the next Keeper before she was cast out of her clan. That's another story entirely. But Velanna didn't have anything to repay the debt she felt she owed to Rowan for all his help, so she offered the ritual to him since the Warden Commander's lover is also male."

"What are you getting at, mage?" Fenris demanded abruptly. "What does any of this have to do with Salea?"

"The ritual, Fenris," Anders said, continuing as if there were no interruption. "Is from ancient times. In elven lore it comes from the period when elf interaction with the Imperium quickened the elf people-when they believe they lost their immortality. For the first time ever elves began to age and die. Their fear caused them to withdraw from men entirely and isolate themselves. As you undoubtedly know, the Tevinter Imperium saw this as a sign of hostility and they invaded Elvhenan, killing and enslaving it's people. The ritual is believed to be a blessing to them either from the Maker or Andraste around the time the prophetess lead the Alamarri and then also the elves against the Imperium. The purpose of the ritual is to help the elves in dire times when their numbers become dangerously threatened as they were during that war.

Salea, I told him about it once. He thought it was an amazing thing. But after that initial interest, over time, he seemed to have forgotten about it."

Fenris broke his gaze away from the mage, and began a slow pacing of the cabin. All this lead-up to the explanation of just what this ritual was and what it entailed did not bode well with him. It couldn't be good, otherwise Anders would just come out with it. He was never one to shy away from being forward, after all.

Fenris wasn't going to like this.

"When Leandra died," Anders' voice grew soft. "Hawke came to me with questions about the ritual: Did I know how to perform it? Could it really work? More importantly, would it work on a human?"

Fenris froze, his feet stilling their quiet pacing. "What did you do to him, mage?" His gaze was dark, the power of it held Anders captive for a moment.

"I did what he asked," Anders said.

"And what was that?" Fenris' deep voice rumbled though it remained lowered.

"According to Velanna and the stories she knew, many died in the past attempting the changes the ritual requires be done to the recipient's body." Anders' gaze grew distant in memory. "It was extremely painful." Flashes of Salea laid out on a table, screaming while Anders worked the magic…

He shuddered.

A haunted, pained look crossed Fenris' eyes. "What did you do? Tell me!"

"The ritual, Fenris," Anders looked him in the eye. "Is used to enable a male to carry and give birth to a child."

Fenris watched the world slip away in a haze of blackness. Later, he would not be able to tell what he felt in that moment, all he knew is that the world went black and then it turned red. Before he fully registered what he was doing the darkness of the room flashed with the blue light of his lyrium markings, and with a roar he did not recognize as his own, he charged the abomination.


Please leave a comment or review. It's much appreciated.