Chapter Thirteen: Whispered rumours

Realisation hit me like a bolt of pure magic. I did remember him, though in truth I'd never seen much of him. His name was Kaith, and he was the sole child of Danarius and his wife - who had died giving birth to him. Son of a Magister, Kaith had nearly always been away, living with his mentor and learning magic. We only ever saw one another during his visits home, so there was not a lot to judge his character on. I reckoned we were around the same age, as we'd both been young men when I'd received my markings. What little interaction we'd had was civil. There had been problems, of course, where he would purposely set up trouble and blame me for it; times when I had been lashed for his crimes. But I could not remember him ever being overtly wicked towards me. Perhaps this was a sign of hope. Yet I couldn't help feeling that the apple was never far fallen from the tree.

Kaith seemed to notice something change in my expression, he clapped his hands once. 'Ah you do remember me, splendid! You know, you gave me quite the run around. After you killed father I tried desperately to find you, however you had fled Kirkwall. After four years of nothing I almost gave up hope. But what should I hear over breakfast but that a lyrium-marked elf was caught by slavers, and on Minrathous' doorstep no less! Now you are my family's once more as you should be.' He paused a moment whilst he returned to his mock-throne. 'I want you to know I bear you no ill will. My father was an ass, let us be honest about it. But I have learnt from my father's example, and know that you catch more bees with honey than vinegar - as they say down south. I hope you both will be very happy in my service.'

Refin looked to me a moment, but said nothing. She hung her head, guarding her expression that I did not doubt was twitching with rage. Kaith's words seemed every bit genuine and honest. He sounded sincere and as if he was truly not the same man as his father had been. But I knew how Magisters worked, in my heart of hearts I could not believe he wanted the best for us. If he truly did then he would have bought us our freedom rather than kept us.

'Now I want to hear all about your new life, Fenris.' I narrowed my eyes at the name but said nothing. 'Last I heard you were quite cosy with the Champion of Kirkwall. What happened?'

'Hawke and I had some disagreements after Kirkwall fell. We decided it would be better to go our separate ways.' I tried my best to not choke up, even thinking of such a thing made my chest ache. 'I moved around and eventually found Melaris.' I looked to Refin a moment and she caught my gaze. She knew now this was her name, showing her understanding with a soft smile. 'We were married last autumn in Cumberland.'

Gaining Refin's permission with a quick look, I placed one arm around the small of her back and rested my other hand atop the curve of her stomach. We posed for a moment, giving one another the look of true love. In her I saw only Hawke's amber eyes and trademark smirk, and no doubt she imagined Alistair gazing sweetly at her. Beneath my palm I felt the child move, a small hand or foot pressing up against my palm. I had never felt an unborn move before, and it caught me off-guard. Refin reined in a laugh.

'And now you have an elfling on the way, how beautiful.' The mage gave a tender smile to us both. 'When is the little one due?'

'T-two months,' her voice shook and was little more than a whisper in the echoing room. Quickly she tagged on. 'Master.'

'A woman of good manners, I see why you like her, Fenris.' I thought I saw Kaith's smile turn up a little more at one end, then slip back into place. 'Well I want you to both feel at home here; here you are my servants, not my slaves. I have prepared a room for you both, a bath and fresh clothes. I also had Bascil purchase your bags, they will be in your room also though I'm afraid I've had to confiscate your weapons. You understand.'

I didn't need my blade to tear his chest open. But for a moment I considered our situation. If Kaith was truly honest in his intentions, then we would possibly be able to ask for favours. Magisters kept extensive libraries, so I was almost certain if Refin's answer for the Call's reversal was anywhere she could find it here. As for finding Garrett, surely he would have heard about my arrival in Minrathous if Kaith had; the city must've been abuzz with talk of Kaith buying back his father's favourite slave. If we could hold out we could both get what we needed. The whole plan hinged on the fact we couldn't be certain how kind Kaith truly was. For now, with Refin and her child protected by my lies, it seemed worth the risk. We would have a little less than two months to find what we came for and get out of Tevinter.

Sometime later, our new master released us to have the afternoon to ourselves; finding our way around his colossal home and preparing ourselves for our duties. We were informed that I was to play bodyguard for Kaith. He had a vast knowledge of my abilities from journals kept by his father, and as such knew the power in having me close by. Refin - Melaris as she was known to him - was to do almost nothing. We discovered the curtained area in his receiving room was new and to be hers, where she would sit like a prized cat and await the birth of her child.

In the solitude of our room, once we were bathed and dressed, we sat warming ourselves by the fire.

'Really!' She snapped. 'He wants me to just sit there and get fat until the baby comes! Give me something to do! If I'm going to have to play servants till we get out of here, at least let me serve! I'm going to go insane listening to nothing but Tevene all day. I can't even pick up gossip because I have no idea what the damned fools are saying!'

'Then leave that to me.' I insisted, waving my hands in a calming motion. 'I will be at his side whenever he is to receive someone or attend events outside the manor. Just sit tight and keep your head down.'

'Do I honestly look the sort to do that?'

She was correct. Without her mask of feigned fragility she did not look the sort to play the elven pet. 'Alright, try to cope for a week. Afterwards I will ask Kaith to allow you access to his library, then you can hunt down a cure for the Call.'

'You think he'll let us?'

'He might.' I sighed and rubbed my temples. 'This is confusing me. He is currently nothing like Danarius, but I can't shake the bad feeling I'm getting.'

She shivered and pulled her shawl closer round herself. 'You and me both. I suppose I can try if it will make things easier. I won't lie, I'm hating every second of this and the sooner I can put a dagger in his throat the better.'

I gave a quick nod in agreement. 'Thank you. I do not relish the idea of being a slave either. But if we can make this work to our advantage, then perhaps the Maker has given us a chance.'

'Leli does say "He works in mysterious ways".' The rogue sighed. 'Maybe I can do something in the meantime. If I show I have bardic talents, he may let me at least play for him.'

'Good. The more useful we make ourselves, the less likely he is to dispose of us.'

'So do I still call you Leto?' Her question was tentative, like she was edging around broken glass with bare feet. 'I'm just not sure how the whole slave thing works. If our "master" names you Fenris, do I have to call you it too?'

'No, you can call me as you like. But I must answer no matter what he calls me.'

She looked to me sadly and nodded slowly. 'Then I'll continue to call you Leto.'

'Thank you.'

The first week was nought but standing around with my sword and looking intimidating, as Varric would have called it "Just being plain old Broody". I was given new armour to wear and was glad to note it was similar to my attire in Kirkwall. It seemed Kaith found it better to have only small areas of my markings show, though this was likely done so no one could view the entire canvas, as it were. Inwardly I was dreading the next social event Kaith was planning, one where he would no doubt reveal almost the entirety of my lyrium and have Refin sat on a dais for all to watch. A worry did occur to me: Would he make a spectacle of her child's birth if it were to arrive whilst we were still here? I could not allow that. We would work quickly and get out as soon as possible.

Refin was having a worse time than I was, which I did not find strange considering she was a she-elf and a stubborn Grey Warden. I kept an eye on her when I could, which was mostly in Kaith's throne room or in our own room. But there were times Kaith requested her presence alone. Whenever she returned she looked irritated and bored. She informed me that he would sit her on her cushions and just feed her fruit, enquiring after the child and feeling her stomach.

'Sometimes I wish the child really is yours.' She grumbled after the second week. 'Then it could faze its little hand through my skin and rip his letharais heart out.'

I chuckled and set about preparing her a bath. 'I'm just content knowing you are safe.'

'I can still feel his hands on my stomach.' She shivered. 'I hate when he does that.'

'I'm sorry.' I looked to her but she waved the expression away.

'You're not the creep, and it's not like he's doing anything overly weird.' She sighed. 'He doesn't go under my clothes and he just keeps trying to feel or hear the baby move. Still, it's just... I only want people I like doing that.'

Gently I nodded and poured another bucket of steaming water in. 'Has he made any mention of the library? I did ask.'

'Sort of. He said I could use it whenever he's there, which limits my freedom but allows me to try and search a little at least.'

'That's what Magisters do. They take your freedom and toy with it, making you think you're free or here by choice when in fact you are nothing but theirs. If you were born a slave then you would think this a gift, that you were being favoured in some way. Others would hate you for it, envious.'

'Well they can shove their envy where the sun don't shine.' As I turned to sit backwards on the bed, facing away from her, Refin began undressing and climbing into her bath. 'Oh that feels nice... Thank you Leto.'

'You're most welcome.'

'Do you know he's offered me a new position once the baby arrives?'

'I'm hoping you will say "Bard to the Magister".'

'Not even close.' She groaned and dislodged a little water; a gentle lapping noise as it swayed in the tub. 'He says once "Vitus" is born, I will become his mistress.'

Fury gripped me, lyrium glowed. 'He said WHAT?!'

'Be calm, Leto.' No doubt she rolled her eyes. 'We will be out of here long before my child is born. I'm more miffed he's thought to name the baby. Vitus... My child is not called Vitus.'

Though I dispersed the energy in my markings I was still raging. I knew we couldn't trust Kaith. He was just like every other Magister, taking whatever he wanted and not giving a damn about who he hurt because of it. Had I truly been Refin's husband I would march into his room and kill him then and there. But I was not, and the elf said she was fine with this because it would never come to pass; his words were just words to her. So it was now ever more pressing we found her cure and get out. I could always come back on my own to look for Hawke, once I got her safely back to Ferelden.

When she was sufficiently cleaned, she got out the tub and dressed herself into the spare clothes we were using as nightclothes. The first two or three days I had slept on the floor by the fire, allowing her the whole bed. But she said she couldn't sleep, feeling guilty that I had only stone to lay on. So we agreed we would share the bed on the condition we both faced away from each other and tried to remain on our own side of the bed. It wasn't that I didn't trust the Warden, it was that I felt I should only share my bed with Hawke. I lay some nights waiting and hoping that any moment the bed would dip as he crawled across it. That I would feel his warm arms encircle me and his kiss on the arch of my neck.

Refin was not the best bedfellow. She was constantly plagued with nightmares about the Blight, worsened by her Calling. Sometimes she would wake and sit up for an hour, rubbing her stomach and complaining that the child would not keep still. I was not a healer nor the child's father, so there was little I could do to soothe them save telling her stories of my life in Kirkwall and the Hinterlands. Occasionally it worked and she would nestle down to sleep again, other times it didn't.

That night I was half-awake, thoughts muddled and blurred as I daydreamed of the day Hawke would burst into Kaith's receiving room and demand that he release us. It had been a particularly long day, Refin had fallen asleep before I even approached the bed. She muttered gently in her sleep and once or twice spoke an actual word. Figuring it was only a matter of time till she woke me, I was trying not to sleep. Hawke was calling me, and I so desperately wanted to be with him.

I prickled as two arms came about me, sliding under my own; hands pressed into my chest. A weight lay gently against my back, head resting on the back of my shoulder. At first I thought my prayers had been answered then realised the person was too small to be Hawke. I worried it was Kaith or another of the mage's friends come to take advantage of us but I hadn't heard the door open. I was fairly certain of that. Had they lain in wait in the cupboard or under the bed?

There was a soft groan of contentment. 'Alistair.'

Then all noise stopped. Refin was no longer mumbling in her sleep, her sharp breathing soothed and she lay still. The temptation to remove her was paramount. Lyrium kept threatening to glow and I desperately tried to rein it in; the glow would awaken her and I really did not want to accidentally kill her because of my flight response. As it calmed I realised that she was not looking for me. "Alistair" she had said. She believed I was the Fereldan King. Careful not to wake her, I peeked over my shoulder and saw she was still asleep but she smiling. I sighed and closed my eyes. This was the first night since we had been enslaved that she had slept well. Despite my dislike of the situation, I hadn't the heart to move her.

When I awoke the next morning she was already up and dressed, sitting by the fire and warming her hands. Head still muddled from sleep, I sat up and ran a hand through my hair.

'I'm sorry.' She said, noting I was up now. 'Last night I- Well I woke up this morning and I was... cuddling you. I broke our agreement, I apologise.'

'You were having a nightmare.' I reasoned, coming to sit beside her. 'I was awake at the time, knowing you'd wake me sooner or later, and then you hugged me. You called me "Alistair" and the nightmares seemed to leave you. I didn't want to wake you.'

'I-I see.' She sighed and began plaiting her hair; she did this so Kaith couldn't run his fingers through it. 'Thank you and I really am sorry, it must have been uncomfortable for you.'

'I won't lie, it was not what I wanted.' I held her gaze for a moment, allowing her to see the seriousness in my expression. 'But if it allows you to rest, then I will not refuse you. You need sleep for the child. The nightmares are getting stronger the more you ignore the Calling - however fake it may be.'

She seemed stuck for words, so she simply said 'Thank you.'

That hour before serving was a quiet one for us both. Not quite sure what to say to one another, we ate our meagre breakfast in silence. As we prepared to leave, she stopped and looked at me.

'If you want to cuddle me sometimes, and call me "Hawke", I'm ok with that.'

I smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. 'Should the desire ever arise, I will let you know. But for now I am good, thank you.'

Sundown was often the time Kaith liked to dismiss me and take to fawning over Refin. Since he had no wife she was the subject of all his affections, and though at the moment he seemed to be behaving himself, I worried that one day the mage would cross the line. From my place beside his throne I watched the sun dip over the rooftops of the Imperium. Kaith was busy chattering to some lower Lord about acquiring a book on Fade spirits. Once the book was purchased, the other mage left and Kaith turned his attention to us.

'Melaris, my dearest one.' She dutifully sat on her cushions and looked to him, as she did whenever he spoke to her. 'Could you do me the honour of putting this book with its brethren in the library? You know the place I'm sure. I need to speak to Fenris.'

'Of course, master.' She gracefully stood and took the book from him with a bowed head. As she stood straight she caught my eyes for a moment, her expression reading: What's going on? I shot her a look to show my own confusion, and with that she left the room.

'Fenris,' he turned to me, 'I received a letter this morning. It mentioned the Champion and thought it may interest you.'

'That apostate does not concern me, master.' I growled low, using my hatred for Kaith as a substitute for Hawke. It worked well to mask my genuine interest; that half a skip of my heart and the lightening of hope growing in my chest.

'You were lovers once.' Kaith continued. 'I thought perhaps you would want to know.'

'I do not, master.'

'Oh, pity.' He teased and then gave shrug. 'Well I suppose this will please you then. I was just going to tell you, he was helping the Inquisition. But there was an accident involving the Fade and I'm afraid he perished during it.'

The world went black around the edges as my hearing numbed. All I could feel was my heart hammering inside my chest and the icy feeling spreading through my limbs to my torso. Hawke is dead. It couldn't be true, it had to be Kaith fooling with me and trying to get a rise from me. He was trying to see if I loved Hawke still, and use it against whom he thought was my wife. Quickly I thought to mask my pain, but the damage was already done. Kaith's mouth quirked seeing the distress in my eyes.

'You lied to me, Fenris. You do love the Champion even now.'

'I-' Swallowing was difficult, and my eyes were stinging with held-back tears. 'I will admit, that is not what I wanted to hear, master. I dislike the man, but did not want him dead.'

'It must be so hard to hate someone you once loved.' He stood now, his robes billowing around him in a scarlet fanfare. 'Hate and love are two sides of a coin, and sometimes we get them confused.'

I was not listening to his drivel. I had heard it a million times from the mouth of Danarius and other Magisters like him. It was lies and twisting of words to confuse slaves.

"Master hurts me because he loves me."

It was nothing but lies and abuse.

'I knew you still desired him, when he was still alive.' Kaith pressed on, nearing his colossal fireplace. His voice echoed across the distance between us. 'Even when you gaze so lovingly at Melaris, your heart is still held by the Champion. But now he is dead. Do you have any regrets, Fenris?'

'None, master.' I scowled. 'It is true I once loved Hawke, but no longer. Melaris is my wife and-'

'You married her to mask the pain.' He smirked, manipulating my words.

'No, I love her.'

'Poor flower, her love doesn't love her in return.' He tutted under his breath and looked to me. 'I can help you, Fenris. Now the Champion is dead there is no way you could ever rekindle your romance. But I can remove your memories of him, make it so it's like you never met. Then your heart can belong to Melaris and her alone.'

'Firstly, master,' I retorted, 'I love my wife and would never leave her for Hawke.'

'And secondly?'

'You know my history with mages, both your father and Hawke. What makes you think I would allow you to tamper with my memories?'

'I see your point,' he motioned a pardon with his hands, 'I apologise. I had merely hoped that by now I had earned your trust.'

'Melaris is the only one I trust now.' It was true, with Hawke gone the only person left in this world I trusted was the she-elf. The gravity of that sank in a moment and I felt my breathing shudder.

'Should you change your mind, Fenris. Know I am here.' He bowed low. 'I may be a Magister and your master, but I hope one day you may call me a friend. You may retire now, if you so wish. Please call in on Melaris on your way, ask her to join me here.'

It was my turn to bow, a short bent of my neck nothing more.

It was in the quiet solitude of our room I allowed myself to cry. Once the door clicked shut, I felt everything leave me as I crumpled to the floor. Tears and curses, sobs and moans of anguish. Nothing could bring me any release. The man who meant everything to me, the one who had built me up from the ground when I had nothing, was gone... Some part of me refused this. He couldn't be dead, not after everything he'd faced. The Blight, the Deep Roads, the Arishok and the mad leaders of Kirkwall... Nothing could stop Hawke.

How was I supposed to go on without him? I knew in the long run I could hunt slavers, try to make something of my life and die in battle. But the idea of lying there night after night, knowing I would never hear his voice again, never see his smile...

I wept till my eyes ran out of tears, then curled into a ball on my side and continued to make soft wailing noises. In truth I must have seemed pathetic. A great warrior reduced to a sobbing maiden, but love does such things to people. It was there on the floor that the idea came to me. I will admit I was not rational at the time. But at that point I had no feelings left or faith left. There was but a single path in my mind, and it lead to him.

Kaith had taken our weapons, but he did not take my imagination. I gazed at my wrist, the beautiful band of red. My love of Hawke would take me to him. Slowly I unwound the strip of cloth, feeling the sting in my eyes and chest once more. Then I wrapped it round my neck, as many times as I could, and tied it tightly. A noise of protest came from my throat, my body trying desperately to override what I'd done. I kept my hands locked tight in front of me, refusing to let them scrabble at the silk. The world began to fade at the edges, my hearing like someone clamped their hands over my ears.

Garrett... Amatus, I'm on my way. Please just wait for me...

I didn't care about the Maker anymore. Movement dulled in my twitching fingers. Toes curled and froze in place. Slavery hadn't been a good enough excuse to kill myself when I served Danarius, yet the thought of living in a world without Hawke... Blue light flashed and sparked as my body tried one last attempt to save itself. The lyrium did nought without my consent. It dimmed and slowly my eyes began to shut.

The door shoved into my back, but I had no air to escape me. The door jostled, colliding with me again.

'Dammit. Hey Leto, you in there?' I could barely make out her voice. 'Leto? Something's blocking the door.'

I kept silent, wanting her to go away. If she stopped me now I'd never have the chance again. The Warden was not one to be ignored. Using all her might she pushed against the door, moving it and me out of the way. For a moment she stood getting her breath back, hands on her hips and a look of triumph on her face.

'You know, you can tie that favour of yours round the door handle to let me know you're taking care of yourself.' She laughed. 'No need to barricade the- FENEDHIS! LETO!'

My protests were wordless and consisted of weakly pushing at her helping hands. She resisted all of them and untied the band about my neck. Air rushed back into my lungs, leaving me coughing and spluttering. The rogue held the favour across her lap, livid fury written across her every feature.

'What in the name of Andraste's flaming tits do you think you were doing?!'

'Haw-ke...' I managed to croak out.

'What about him?' She snapped, blue steel in her eyes. 'Killing yourself isn't going to bring him running. This isn't one of Varric's romance novels, idiot.'

Tears came again and I brought my hands up to hide my face. She softened only a little, and promptly tied the red scrap back around my right wrist. Pulling me into her arms, she stroked my hair gently and hushed me. I didn't reject the touch.

'Your throat no doubt hurts,' the elf sighed, 'but tell me what happened. Are you missing Hawke?'

Slowly I nodded, then shook my head. Colour was returning little-by-little. My hands and feet burned as fresh blood raced through my veins. 'Hawke... Hawke is dead.'

Her hand paused atop my head, she craned her neck to look me in the eye. 'Is this what Kaith wanted to talk about?' Again I nodded and she grunted in annoyance. 'You can't believe a word he says. The bastard is trying to brainwash us both so we'll comply to his whims. He's trying to make it that slavery doesn't seem so bad for me, and telling you the one reason you have to leave doesn't exist anymore. Leto, please don't listen to him. Hawke is out there with his stupid goofy grin, flinging spells at Maker knows what, and will get his ass here as soon as he hears what's happened; mark my words. Please don't try to kill yourself, because I'll have to clean up his body too when he offs himself to be with you.'

I let her hold me for a while, weak as a child. She comforted me when I sobbed anew and put me to bed, singing an old Dalish lullaby. As I drifted off to sleep, listening to her sweet words, I couldn't help but realise how foolish I had been. Refin was right, this was simply Kaith trying to get to me and breed doubt in my heart. I would not let the Magister destroy my love for Hawke or tarnish my memories of the mage I loved so dearly.

If there was any truth at all in those words, Kaith had given me more knowledge than I had had before. Hawke was helping the Inquisition, which meant he was in their base - Skyhold if I remembered rightly - not Minrathous. As soon as Refin had the cure she needed, we could leave and head for Ferelden.

A smile grew on my lips.

I will be with you soon, Amatus.

TRANSLATIONS (non-canon phrases done by Google Translate, so no doubt very poorly).

1) Letharais. = Non-canon elven swear. Roughly means the same as "f**king".

2) Fenedhis. = Elven swear, possibly means "cr*p".