Chapter 13

In the early hours of the new morning, some obscure figure crept through the door of a dilapidated mansion in the midst of the proud and thriving ones in the posh quarter of Hightown. He sneaked upstairs and entered the only used room in the ruined house. Not entirely surprised he stopped to take the picture in: Fenris lying on his back, his arms firmly encircling Hawke's frame; Hawke, on her turn, resting her head on his chest, one arm loosely draped over the elf's waist, one leg wrapped over his, both with a faint smile on their faces. He let his eyes feast on the glorious nudity of their bodies and grinned broadly. He only regretted he didn't bring his book and quill. He had to memorise this. He picked up the elf's heavy broadsword, sitting on the weapon rack.

'Rivaini will turn green with envy when I tell her about this,' he murmured to himself, silently laughing beforehand with the prospect. That put aside, it was time to wake the sleeping beauties.

'Rise and shine, my lovelies!' he bellowed and revelled in the reaction it caused. They both flew up, instinctively reaching for weapons that weren't there, realizing at the same time they were naked and grabbing the blanket that had crumbled at their feet, hastily covering themselves. They glared at him with a mix of panic and utmost fury.

'You, you,' Hawke stammered breathless, 'you, dwarf!'

'Ah, l' amour,' Varric sighed in his most sugared voice. 'Lethal.' He let follow this far more ominous uttered word by showing them Fenris's sword he held up by the hilt. He didn't have the strength to wield it and wondered again how the lanky elf managed. But he wanted to make a point. He shook his head and made a "tsk" sound. 'You should lock your door or hire some guards if you're paying only attention to one another instead to safety. I could have finished you off just like that, and so could have anyone else.'

'Yesterday, I told you I would love to wring your neck; this time I'm really going to kill you,' Hawke threatened, not paying attention to his quite legitimate statement.

'With what?' Varric informed sweetly. 'I don't see any daggers lying around. Or will this be a case of "I have an elf and I'm not afraid to use him"? You can consider this payment for being forced to act like your messenger boy – again.' He dropped the sword that fell with a clanking sound on the tiles and removed a folded piece of parchment out off one of his pockets. He moved to the bed and put it into her hands. Hawke shot him a venomous glance before she unfolded the vellum and let her eyes dart over the message.

'Apparently our dear Seeker is too impatient to wait another day,' she concluded. 'He wants a new appointment. At least he has learned. Just a message this time, no corpses or kidnapping.' She let her look glide to the dwarf. 'Not on his behalf,' she said portentously. 'Let's pack a picnic basket.'

'Do you really intend to drag him to the Wounded Coast?' Fenris asked. Just as she he wanted to strangle the dwarf, who still wore that maddening smug smile, but decided that could wait.

'Why not? I promised him, didn't I? I intend to keep my promises.' She thought for a few moments until she added, 'Perhaps it's wise to take Carver along. After all, it's also his father the fuss is about.' And turning back to Varric, 'Do me a favour and make yourself scarce before I change my mind and make minced meat of you.'

Varric bowed courteously. 'Before I take my leave, my beautiful heroine, I do hope you have taken precautions before your, er, amorous exercises,' he launched his last attack, while retreating cautiously.

'What?' they exclaimed in unison.

'Oh please, don't tell me I have to explain where the little children come from, you can't be that ignorant.' By now Varric had reached the door. 'On the other hand, I can't wait to see the wonderful broody baby you will have created together.'

Fenris started to cough vehemently and Hawke reached for the first available missile, that turned out, surprisingly, to be a book lying on the floor next to the bed. She tossed it at Varric's head, missed him by an inch and hit the doorpost instead. 'You insufferable piece of shit,' she screamed. The booming laugh of the dwarf trailed after him all the way down to the entrance of the mansion. She fell back on the pillows with a loud grunt.

'Bloody hell,' she cursed. Fenris stooped over her body, smiling vaguely.

'Did you?'

'Did I what?'

'Take precautions.'

'At the risk of disappointing you, yes I did. So no wonderful broody baby for you.'

He cocked one eyebrow. 'Were you so certain about what would happen, or did you have other plans?'

Lightly she tapped his lovely straight elven nose. 'Jealous already my love? As a matter of fact, I've been taking those herbs since the day ... since that day. For weeks I was scared as hell that I would be pregnant. You never know what can happen, better safe than sorry.'

'Of course,' he said silently. He gently caressed her face, following with his fingertips the line of her eyebrows and cheekbones, the contour of her jaw down to her chin and up again over the rim of her ear. 'Do you want me to make coffee or provide for something else?'

She couldn't help letting out a giggle. She put her arms around his wonderful muscled and at the same time lithe frame. 'You can provide me with you,' she said with a husky voice, smiling playfully. 'You claimed to be my bodyguard. So guard my body.'

He chuckled lowly, which sent a shiver down her innards and made her wet with want. He caught her lips in a soft nibbling kiss. 'How can I refuse such a request?'

'Hmm, keep up the good work,' she encouraged him, 'I love this.' She fastened her hold and he tenderly bit her lower lip before trailing his mouth down her throat and the crook of her shoulder. She hummed approvingly and pulled him upon her, drawing her hands over his arms and back. He nuzzled her neck while he planted a kiss on the spot just behind her ear, where he could smell her desire for him. He inhaled deep to catch her intoxicating scent that fed his arousal. His hand wandered down her body, cupping a breast, letting his thumb and finger play with her nipple. He claimed access to her mouth that she was more than willing to give. Their tongues danced in that intricate pattern that wove love and lust together. She spread her legs and moved her hips upwards to invite him and give him easy entrance. He let his fingers trace down to her wetness before he entered her body. Her breath hitched and she whispered his name. He groaned while he started to move inside her. She answered with a deep groan of her own; it aroused him even more. They started slow but it didn't take long before they picked up a rapid cadence. He felt her build up her release in the way she dug her fingers into his back and the tight clasping of her sheath. And then her body shuddered violently; she clung on to him while the feeling of being swept off the surface of the world almost overwhelmed her. He followed her not moments later, crying out her name. He embraced her hard, panting heavily.

When she was able to think once more, she became alert, the experience of the night before still very near.

'What about your memories?'

He was still trying to breathe again. 'Fuck my memories,' he stammered harshly, kissing her brow, leaning against it. 'You are much more important than those.' He meant it. He had made that decision earlier and he wouldn't go back on it. "I ...' he grasped her shoulders and looked into her shining sapphire eyes. 'I love you Marian Hawke. No force in the world can keep you from me.'

She almost choked, hiding her face in his shoulder. 'And I love you,' she whispered. Again he inhaled her wonderful scent and felt her breath whirling on his skin. He inhaled deeply.

'As long as I don't fall asleep afterwards, I don't think the memories will haunt me.'

Her fingers trailed down his chest. 'So that means morning sex. I can live with that.'

He grinned. 'What about that coffee? And you must think about the continence of that picnic basket. We'd better get up and prepare for the upcoming renewed encounter with our Seeker.'

'Oh please, can we just forget about that and stay in bed for the rest of our lives?' She frowned suddenly. 'Shit. I have nothing to wear. Yes, yes, I know most women complain about that, but in this case it's literally. You shred my nightdress. And that cloak is so worn to the tread, you can look through it. I really have nothing to wear.'

He laughed out loud. 'Were you planning on walking through Kirkwall in just your nightdress in broad daylight? I would love to see the reactions.'

'No you wouldn't. You would scowl at everyone who dared to look at me,' Marian tittered. 'You got jealous just by learning I took safety measures against a pregnancy.'

'I'm not –' he started but she silenced him by teasingly licking his lips with the tip of her tongue.

'You are my wonderful,' she reached down to stroke his already hardening length, 'brutally handsome,' a slight squeeze that earned her a tormented growl, 'loving, caring,' a firmer grip made him jolt, 'jealous wolf.'

'Oh you –' He caught her mouth in a searing kiss that melted her into a trembling puddle of desire. Their love making started anew until they were both completely spent and exhausted.

'I love morning sex,' Hawke murmured, wrapped around his body, making a serious attempt to crawl away in him.

Fenris chortled quietly. 'So I noticed. And I agree.' He allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the incredible warm feeling of happiness. But before he would doze off, he sat up. He took a deep breath, rubbed his face and noted the dead weight of his bird of prey, still hanging on to him. She was fast asleep. He smiled and carefully pulled away from her. He covered her with the sheets and blankets she herself had brought him, before he got dressed. He went down to the kitchen to make coffee and while the water started to boil he looked for some clothes for her to put on.

He never saw the dark-robed figure that stealthily sneaked into the cellar and disappeared through a concealed little door into the adjacent premises that belonged to one Gascard DuPuis.

'What in the Maker's name are you wearing?' Leandra stared incredulously and in horror at the light, fawn baggy trousers and faded blue, too large tunic her daughter showed up in. To prevent the trousers from sagging she had tied something around her hips that suspiciously looked like the rope of a curtain.

Hawke twirled. 'You don't like it?' It was the best Fenris had been able to come up with, besides a few pompous robes and frivolous dresses she had resolutely refused to put on. Fenris thought she looked adorable, but then again, she would look adorable in a potato sack.

'You look like some common deckhand on a pirate ship,' her mother however commented with disgust. 'Why are you dressed up like that? Don't tell me this is your new choice of clothing.'

'Don't worry. But you must admit it's far better than walking through the city naked.'

'What?' Leandra exclaimed in abhorrence, but Marian had already disappeared into the small side-room where she kept her armour and underclothes. Leandra shot a suspicious glare at the white-haired elf, who was leaning against the doorpost with a perfectly blank expression on his face. Before she could open hostilities, Marian re-emerged, crossing the space to the bedroom she shared with her brother.

'Is Carver in?' Without waiting for an answer she darted into the little room. 'Wake up, lazybones, we're going to the Wounded Coast.' Carver's muffled protest was unintelligible, although it wasn't hard to guess what he meant. 'We have an appointment with the Seeker. And since it concerns you as much as it does me, I thought you would want to come along.' More stifled growls, as if Carver had put his head under his pillow, ending with a groaned, 'Go away!'

'Okay, have it your way. But don't start wailing the next time you feel left out.' She shrugged while she walked over to a cupboard and retrieved a wicker basket. 'Just as well he doesn't want to come, saves me making a lot of excuses for his grumpy behaviour.' She smiled broadly at Fenris. 'Let's go to the market. Goodbye Mother, see you later.'

After she had left, Leandra had the dizzy feeling she had been enveloped by a whirlwind. She didn't like it her daughter had been in the company of that elf and why, for Andraste's sake, had she been dressed in those repulsive clothes? She feared she knew the answer, but she didn't want to think about it. She shook her head and went to the fireplace to make some tea.

Berran was pacing through the sand. He hadn't been very pleased with this "picnic" thing but Wynne had agreed, saying it would be nice to get out of the city for a while. After hours of hiking they had reached a remote spot that held the remains of an old ruin. Hawke had spread the continence of the basket she had taken with her on a blanket. At first, he had had the feeling she was mocking him, but that feeling had passed when he had seen her taking in the salty tingling air with pure contentment.

'See, much better than being gathered in a stuffed room,' she had said. He hadn't agreed, but whatever it took to tell her all she knew, was worth the sand in his boots and the blisters on the soles of his feet. His eyes had rested for a brief moment on the strange looking elf, sitting next to her with an attentive bearing as if he was guarding her. Wynne had stated he wasn't her bodyguard, so, what was he? Her best friend as she had claimed? Her lover? Husband even? There was a possessiveness in his look he hadn't noticed before. He dismissed the thoughts as being not important. Instead he turned to the woman who was sitting on a boulder, happily eating a bread roll. Something had changed in her demeanour since yesterday, but he couldn't exactly define what. He wasn't used to be confronted with happiness, and he decided to ignore it. He took the offensive.

'I'll ask you bluntly, Serah Hawke, are you a mage or not?' He made it sound as if he was giving her a last chance.

She finished her bread roll before answering him. 'Do you really think I would tell a Seeker if I were? Besides that, aren't you trained in recognizing mages? You should be able to tell yourself.'

He squinted at her through narrowed eyes. 'Just answer my question. It would help our investigation enormously if you were honest.'

'I don't see how the knowledge of me being a mage would help at all, besides the fact you would then have a legitimate reason to haul me to some torture room to beat the truth out of me.'

'So you admit you have been withholding information.' This time Berran's voice sounded intimidating. The elf's expression hardened immediately; Hawke's face stayed as relaxed as it had been all morning.

'Not at all. But I know of your methods. You would use all means to make me confess everything you wanted to hear. I've always wondered why you Seekers do that; under torture someone is willing to say anything. You end up with a lot of information, but none the wiser.'

She started to drive him insane. She wasn't lying as such, just being evasive. The maddening thing was, he knew, but if he told her that, he was forced to reveal some facts he was reluctant to share. On the other hand, he was certain she kept more things secret and that he had to come clear, if he wanted her to cooperate. He only hoped with all his heart, that she wouldn't make a scene, or, if she did, the elf could calm her down.

Hawke took a swig of the light cider she had poured herself, and leaned against a piece of ancient masonry. 'You haven't been that honest yourself. You never explained why you used the mansion of a necromancer. Or was that a lie? About the necromancy I mean. After all, you also claimed Gascard DuPuis to be a slaver. A little overdone, don't you think? And if you really knew this DuPuis is a necromancer, it seems totally out of character to use his house as a trap to lure me in, instead of him.'

Berran stared at her as if he was contemplating telling her some big secret. He shot a short glance at Wynne who gave him a little nod in return. He tapped with his fingers on his thigh and cut the knot. 'I must give you that calling DuPuis a slaver was exaggerated, but we wanted to pique your interest as much as possible. We had no reason at all to lure him into a trap. He is one of our men in Minrathous.'

Hawke's jaw dropped in bewilderment. 'You employ a necromancer?'

'He's not actually a necromancer. I know he dabbles in blood magic, but that is more like a cover. Who in Tevinter would suspect a blood mage to be a spy for the Seekers?' He took a deep breath. 'Listen, Serah Hawke. I know you are a mage, and apparently an extraordinary one.' He lifted his hand to keep her from protesting. 'I know that because I had DuPuis keep an eye on you. Last night he followed you when you left your house in a hurry, and overheard your conversation with the elf. That's the reason I summoned you today.'

She was so shocked, that at first she didn't react. Her second impulse was to jump upon Berran and throttle him, but with all her might she managed to hold back. Fenris already stood in a protective stance, sword drawn, defying everyone who dared to approach her. The four sentries that accompanied them, reached for their weapons but didn't act – yet.

'You fucking son of a bitch,' Hawke snarled through clenched teeth. She felt nauseous, but fought back the bile forming in the back of her throat. 'Did you run out of clumsy Seekers? Did you have to stoop that low to let a blood mage spy on me and intrude Fenris's home?' Briefly she thought back at Varric's words from this very morning. Maker! They had been far more vulnerable and exposed than even the dwarf had imagined. 'What is your purpose? To arrest me after all?' She pushed away the thought of DuPuis witnessing the most precious moments shared between her and Fenris. If she allowed herself to think about that, she would definitely throw up.

'Please try to understand Serah Hawke,' Wynne finally spoke. 'It's getting us nowhere if we continue to circle around each other. Berran and I already had strong suspicions you were a mage, but we needed proof.'

'To what end? Blackmail me? Take me prisoner? How long has that bastard stayed?' She saw Fenris's strained posture and knew he was feeling as furious and sick as she did. She stared at the blanket and the food lying on it. Yes, it had been meant as some kind of joke, to taunt that harsh figure of a Seeker. But now that idea seemed to turn to bite her in the ass. It wasn't that funny anymore.

'Just long enough to find out what we wanted to know. Not long after midnight he came to the warehouse to report. We are not going to imprison you. We would have already done so, if that had been our intention.'

Marian closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath in an ultimate attempt to compose herself. Part of her still wanted to knock the Seeker cold, but she realized that would only leave her very dead. 'The Guard Captain told me the DuPuis mansion had been deserted for over a year.'

'That's true. DuPuis only returned to Kirkwall after you filled his house with dead people,' Berran brusquely said.

Her eyes shot open again. She noticed that Fenris had lowered his sword but hadn't sheathed it. He looked willing to attack anyone who made a wrong movement. For some reason it moved her and she felt a wave of deep love wash through her body. She wanted to hug him, but that was probably not a good idea at this moment. 'Explain to me why it is so damn important for you to know that I'm a mage. I thought the commotion was about my father. You made that very clear yesterday.'

'As a mage, you must know of your father's findings. You can't tell me he never mentioned any of them to you,' Berran said stubbornly.

Hawke sighed. 'And that's where you go wrong. He never told me anything.'

Berran took a threatening step forwards and Fenris immediately heaved his sword. 'I don't believe you.'

'Alright, that's enough,' Wynne intervened, acting like the peacemaker again. 'Serah Hawke, by now I would like some of your cider, and I suggest we all take a cup before blood starts to flow with no reason at all.'

'I see plenty of reasons,' Fenris grumbled. Just as Hawke he was beside himself that someone (someone? a blood mage for crying out loud) had stolen into his mansion, who not only had eavesdropped on them but could have seen ... The grip on the hilt of his sword tightened so fast that his knuckles went white.

'Fenris,' her soft, warm voice suddenly sounded by his ear, 'I know. I feel the same. But let's try to put it aside for the moment.' He turned to see her standing next to him, a pleading look in her eyes. She really was afraid he would start a carnage. He willed his anger away, sheathed his sword and let his fingers briefly touch her face. 'You are right.'

They all sat down and Hawke busied herself with filling cups with cider. 'If that spy of yours reported well, then you know all there is to know. Then you know my father never gave away anything of his life before he met my mother. It was she who unveiled at least a tiny piece of the mystery.'

'Indeed, something about an experimental method to apply protection,' Berran said impatiently. 'And we want to learn all about that.'

'With that, you have all the information I can give you on the topic.'

The Seeker visibly got enraged; his face twitched and his black coloured eyes darkened even more. 'You little,' he began but Wynne grabbed his wrist.

'Tell me about your technique to perform magic, Serah Hawke. I understand it differs greatly from the normal way.' And, turning to Berran, she added under her voice, but just loud enough for the others to hear, 'Stop acting like a spoiled juvenile and listen for a change.'

Hawke looked away to hide her grin and she heard Fenris with some difficulties try to transform a smirk into a cough. She didn't know if Wynne had uttered the words on purpose, but in any case it broke the tension. One couldn't stay angry when a Seeker was being called to order by a mage, and looked like the proverbial little boy that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He flushed and mumbled something under his breath but didn't raise his voice again.

'I must warn you,' Hawke said while she filled the cups once more, 'it's a strange story. At least Fenris thought so.' After she had finished Wynne looked pensively.

'It is an extraordinary technique indeed, even if you now are afraid that your mana is blocked by some spell or device.'

'The blood mage has been paying attention,' Marian said resentfully.

Wynne flashed her an excusing smile. 'I have never heard of a mage who is able to wield magic by just tapping into the Fade and use the available energy, without encountering a demon.'

'Neither have I. And you never wondered why your father taught you this strange method?' Berran piped up in his gruffly way. Wynne looked sternly at him and he backed down. Hawke almost pitied him.

'No. Why should I? I've always been under the impression it was the only way to use magic.'

'That makes sense,' Wynne agreed. 'The sad thing is, we are back at zero. I mean, we know you're a mage who has been taught incredible skills, but you can't fathom how or why. Let alone we could. Your father, with all he wanted to accomplish, still stays a conundrum and we are running out of sources.'

Fenris had had time enough to think it all over. All that Marian was telling the mage and the flustered Seeker, had astonished him before; no need to listen to information he already had been given. Instead he was trying to find some kind of – well no solution, but perhaps an opening.

'If you permit me,' he said thoughtfully in the fallen silence.

'Yes?' Wynne encouraged him. 'Everything is welcome.'

He looked up. 'I was thinking about the runesmith.' They all looked puzzled at him.

'What runesmith?' Berran asked. He as good as barked, but Fenris was willing to interpret his tone as asking. After all, he was still trying to recover from a tap over the fingers, given by a mage.

'That depends. As far as I can imagine, there are at least two. You mentioned yesterday that it took a very skilled runesmith to work the runes Malcolm Hawke invented or created into pieces of armour and weapons. It seems logical to me they know more about his skills and perhaps even purposes. So there must be one in Tevinter and one in Ferelden.'

Marian looked at him in awe. Not only my wonderful, brutally handsome, loving, caring and deliciously jealous wolf, but also intelligent and perceptive one. I never would have come up with that.

'Well,' Wynne started, looking sidelong at Berran, 'as a matter of fact we did put some attention to those, but when we couldn't track them down fast enough, we thought it more useful to turn our attention to Malcolm's offspring.'

'Perhaps that wasn't the wisest decision,' Fenris said dryly.

'Would you be able to find one of the two runesmiths?' Hawke asked. 'Or perhaps even both?'

'It must be possible,' Wynne said. 'I think it's best we start with looking for the one in Ferelden. I remember a dwarf, a topsider of course, who sometimes visited your father. As I said, we tried to find him but I have to admit we didn't put much effort into it. We should try again. And we could ask Gascard DuPuis to ask around in Tevinter.'

Marian tried not to flinch at the mention of that name.

'I have another proposition for you. I am going to the Deep Roads very soon for various reasons.' She waved a hand at seeing their questioning faces. 'Not important. Or, well, it is important, but personal. It will take us several weeks. During that time, you can try to trace down one of the two dwarves who worked with my father. Although I know very little, that dwarf's knowledge and mine put together could lead to some useful outcome. Yes, I'm willing to cooperate. As long as I'm not dragged to one of your prisons to be turned inside out,' she said with a scornful expression at the Seeker.

'That won't happen,' Wynne stated firmly.

After some hesitation Berran said, 'You are a strange woman, Serah Hawke. The most strange person I ever encountered, and I count Wynne amongst them. You should feel flattered.'

'I will only feel flattered when this whole trial will be over with a satisfying end.' She suddenly felt Fenris's arm around her.

'If you dare to threaten her one more time, be prepared to feel the answer of my sword,' she heard him ferociously say. As a warrior she should feel annoyed. She was very well capable of defending herself. As a woman she melted. Again. She crossed the tender look of Wynne. She once had loving feelings for my father. Has she ever found someone ...

'Let's break up and return to Kirkwall,' Wynne said. 'We will try to find one of the dwarves. I will send you a message when we do so. I hope you will succeed in whatever you think to find in the Deep Roads.'

'My mother's old family estate,' Hawke murmured. They gathered their stuff, including the somewhat spoiled picnic items, and headed back to Kirkwall.

No one ever saw the dark clad figure that had been hiding behind the rocks the whole time. He smiled with a predatory grin. This very morning he might not have gathered the information he wanted, the evening before, and even more this trip to the Wounded Coast, had provided him with everything he wanted to know. Including the existence of the with lyrium tattooed elf. It was time to return to Tevinter. A lot of people were waiting for his information about Malcolm Hawke's daughter. The elf was a bonus. It would earn him a lot of money. And status.