(After aiding Isabela in her duel, Hawke walks Fenris home, and is invited in for a drink.)
(Fenris's house. Fenris and Hawke are in the living room.)
Fenris: That was...interesting.
Hawke: I'm glad I asked you to come along. I didn't realize a duel meant there'd be so many people on the opposite side. Always thought it was a one-on-one kind of thing.
Fenris: I am glad to be of service.
Hawke: That you definitely are. I've never seen anyone move that fast. And that thing you do with your hand? The heart-ripping-out trick? How did you learn to do all that?
Fenris: These markings.
(He raises a hand and looks at it in the firelight, turning it so Hawke can see the white lines on his palm)
Fenris: These are lyrium, burned into my flesh to provide the power Danarius required of his pet.
Hawke: Lyrium? They burned lyrium into your skin? How did you not go mad?
Fenris: Are you so certain I did not? (sighs) Perhaps there are safeguards against such consequences, as it is a very costly undertaking. I know nothing of the ritual that placed these markings on me. It was Danarius' choice, one he now regrets.
Hawke: Did it hurt?
Fenris: (looks away) You do not want to know the answer to that.
Hawke: Fenris, that's...
Fenris: I do not want your pity.
Hawke: It's not pity. It's just...that's horrible. No one should have to go through that. No one.
Fenris: Few do. Even in the Imperium, warriors like myself are rare. Perhaps they believe I should feel honored.
Hawke: You should feel incredibly angry.
Fenris: (small smile) I do.
Hawke: You said your former master was a magister?
Fenris: Yes. Danarius had many slaves, but none he valued so much as me.
Hawke: How did you escape?
Fenris: (Glares at Hawke) Is it not enough that I did? I carved my path to freedom in blood. Even so, his bounty hunters follow me wherever I go. I have been fleeing for three years. I will run no longer.
Hawke: Three years? Have you never sought help before?
Fenris: Hirelings, when I could steal the coin. No one of substance, until you.
Hawke: Your old master is incredibly determined. This is a lot of trouble to go to for one slave.
Fenris: He doesn't want me back at all. Just these markings on my skin. He wishes his precious investment returned, even if he must strip it from my corpse.
Hawke: Seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf.
(Fenris coughs, clears his throat. He looks down at the bottle of wine on the table, picks it up and looks at it)
Fenris: This is Aggregio Pavali. Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance intimidated them, which he enjoyed.
Hawke: I can't see why they would be put off.
Fenris: You speak your mind, I'll give you that.
(Fenris looks at the bottle of wine in his hand, then throws it across the room, where it shatters against the wall)
Fenris: It's good to see I can still take pleasure in the little things.
Hawke: You could have poured me a glass first, you know.
Fenris: There's more in the cellar, if you're really interested.
Hawke: Perish the thought! How else would you decorate your walls?
(Fenris laughs, turns his head away again as though unaccustomed to the sound)
Fenris: I've wanted to leave my past behind, but it won't stay there. Tell me, have you ever wanted to return to Ferelden?
Hawke: I've given it some thought, but Kirkwall is my home now.
Fenris: A place where you can put down roots, I understand. Still, to have the option must be...gratifying.
Fenris(In an aside):
To have somewhere
to return to
A home somewhere
to turn to
.
Must be nice
.
A place that you
came from
How would it feel
to have one?
.
Must be nice
.
Perhaps a mother
waits by the door
A younger sister's
dolls on the floor
.
Must be nice
.
How would it
make me feel
To no longer need
to hide and steal?
.
Would be nice
.
To have a place
I could call home
To no longer
fight alone
.
Would be nice
.
But that place has been taken from me
as though it had never been
(Fenris steps back towards Hawke)
Hawke: Where are you from?
Fenris: Seheron, or so I'm told.
Hawke: Were you very young when you left?
Fenris: Possibly.
Hawke: What do you think of Kirkwall?
Fenris: The City of Chains, eh? Once the center of the thriving Tevinter slave trade. You'd think I would hate it, but...I don't.
Hawke: Good. Do you plan on staying here?
Fenris: For now it's as good as any other place. There is no life for me to return to, anywhere else.
Hawke: You could make a start here. I've always got work for someone like you.
Fenris: I could see myself staying, for the right reasons.