21st Kingsway
Hawke.
I confess I am not sure why I write this considering there is little chance you will see it for some time. But I find that my afternoons are emptier when I do not write so I will continue to do so until I can send these letters again.
It is a curious thing to think it has been six months since I have seen you and your family. Once I expected nothing but to spend the rest of my life at my master's side, and I thought I had prepared myself to die in his service. And then you came and took everything from me. I did not understand then. I did not know that meeting you would be the most important thing that ever happened to me.
But I did not begin this letter to talk of old misguided resentment. I know it will be some time before you read this so I thought I might describe more of the sailors here since you seemed so interested before. I have already mentioned Escra who is a fool and Thalia the quartermaster. There is also Isabela of course who rules the ship with an iron fist. You may be surprised she is so stern considering the introductions she made to us in Minrathous. But on the ship it is a different world and there is no questioning her authority. At the same time she does not hesitate to share rum or participate in the card games Nor Emilio hosts every few nights.
Nor Emilio is the ship's healer from Rivain, and I have mentioned him before. He wears heavy silver beads in his hair and speaks in a mumble that is difficult to understand. The boatswain is a very small elf woman named Naryse who is very pale, and who knows something of magic though she does not use it often. She is Orlesian and talks only with Hugh the gunner who speaks nothing other than that language. He is the one I spoke of before who insults the crew when they offend him, and considering he is nearly Thalia's size his fury is no small thing. I once watched him throw cannonshot one-handed at a crewman for spilling a barrel of gunpowder across the deck.
All of them are capable however. Even Escra. It pains me to say so considering he spent this whole morning trying to speak to me of Seheron and his friends there, and reminiscing over the various people he remembers meeting in the jungle. All of this while braiding leather and feathers into the nest of hair on his head. I do not know how he discovered I am supposedly from that place save our similar coloring, but he refuses to believe it is not a mark of great kinship and honor. It would be more of an honor without his crimson hair dye smelling of fish.
I must end here as the candle is nearly gone and Margareth who is a rigger has begun protesting the light. I will say that although this letter will not be mailed so quickly as the others it has provided comfort to me I did not expect. I will put it aside and send it when I can.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
3rd Harvestmere
Hawke.
The weather has been growing steadily cooler as we work our way through the islands outside Amaranthine. There has been one more skirmish with pirates since I last wrote you, but I am uninjured. Escra suffered a very minor wound to his sword arm and has been groaning in Nor Emilio's hands for two days. Worse he acquired it while fending a cutlass away from my back so I feel I carry some responsibility for this. Only a very small portion but enough that Escra's agony magnifies tenfold when I pass by his hammock in the evenings. I would throw him overboard if I did not know he would somehow manage to survive and follow me forever reminding me.
I should mention that Margareth whom I told you before is a rigger has occasionally assisted me with these letters. She is from the Anderfels and has a very strong accent but she is intelligent and a strong reader. She is Thalia's lover and when I mentioned some question of spelling to Thalia months ago she spoke with Margareth, who offered her services to me as they are needed. She is as quiet as Thalia and nearly as tall and uses a formidable broadsword with some notable skill. I confess I have found her to be more patient than you, though I doubt you are surprised at that. Regardless her teaching has been very helpful.
I mention this only because I know you would be pleased to know I am not so proud as I was once to refuse an offer of aid. I do not enjoy asking for assistance in these things, but I know how difficult it is to learn otherwise. You taught me that.
While these letters help with your absence the lack of reply is more difficult than I expected. I knew you would find this silence challenging, but I did not expect it to be so hard here too. I am surprised by how much I wish to hear your voice outside of my memories. Even though the memories I make here are good as well.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
15th Harvestmere
Hawke.
I have remembered today is your nameday. I wish I were there to share it with you, but hope all goes well for you all the same.
Thalia came to the ship yesterday with some news. We have been docked in this tiny nameless port for four days so I do not know how she found someone to bring word, but she says there are rumors that a magelord from Tevinter has been seen south of the Waking Sea. They say he is hunting someone. I have no proof that this is Danarius, but I am not easy that this man is rumored to be so close. Isabela does not understand the threat.
I know you would tell me to be careful, and I will continue to be vigilant. It would be easier to hear from you that he is elsewhere.
In less grim news I have discovered I am a fair hand at the card games they play here. I was not willing to wager the coin you gave me but I have some wages here from my work and I have used a small portion of them to play with Nor Emilio and the others. Last night I won a full pot of silver and Hugh the gunner swore so fiercely in Orlesian that Naryse turned even paler and scolded him. Even when she stood next to his chair her eyes were only level with his, but he did not swear again. I could have told her the comparison to a dog did not offend me given the Fereldans I have known, but to see his bluster so cowed by an elf-woman half his size greatly entertained the rest of the crew.
Isabela did not play last night as she cheats on every hand. Her restraint was I believe the only reason I came out the richer. She occupied herself with general innuendo however and made Escra blush more times than I could count. By the end he could not even concentrate on his cards and played two very poor hands that put him down a good deal to Nor Emilio and Naryse both. He could have paid but would have had no coin for the rest of the journey, and so they agreed to forgive his debt if he stood in the center of the port's main street and sang a ballad to a stand of mackerel.
I could describe the sight to you, but I feel your imagination has provided enough truth I would only lessen it. Only be sure his cheeks are as red as his hair and there is no recognizable tune to the words and it will be like enough for reality.
I will add this letter to the others for you and for Varania. The growing stack is disheartening but I will manage.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris.
—
2nd Firstfall
Hawke.
Since my last writing we have moved ports once more to an even smaller island east of Amaranthine. There is some complication with the man who owns the distillery it seems, and we are trapped here until negotiations conclude.
The sea this morning was grey and very cold and even Thalia fishing off the side of the ship could catch nothing. She and Margareth have enjoyed these slow weeks as they have had ample time to indulge in fishing and sparring. I have occasionally joined them for the sparring but it is not the same, and more than once I have left feeling worse than I did. It is a hard thing to know you are beyond even the reach of letters now Hawke.
I am uneasy these days and I do not know why. Isabela tells me of winter sickness where the lack of sunlight makes sailors ill, but that is not quite right. I worry that Danarius has found this ship despite all precautions and our own disorganized route. I worry that something has befallen you now that I am not there to protect you. I worry for your family.
This is not the letter I wished to write, but I do not know what else to say.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
17th Firstfall
Hawke.
We are trapped in Hythe. By more than negotiations this time. Ice has come from the south and closed all ports and the ship cannot move. Neither are the roads passable given the frequent blizzards and increasingly dangerous passes between the hills. Even the streets here are frozen with an inch of ice at least. Escra says it is better than skirmishing in the jungles in any case, but I would prefer to repeat our last fight a dozen times to another day in this freeze. Even though I was forced to save the man on three separate occasions in the span of ten minutes.
If the ice did not keep me from everything that mattered it would be a remarkable sight. I am sure you are familiar with it given your childhood, but I am startled every time I go abovedecks and see nothing but enormous swaths of floating ice as far as the sea can reach. In some places they are as large as houses, though most are smaller. None of them is manageable for sailing through however, and so we are forced to remain here in this town until the ice yields. Hythe is not the worst place to be trapped I suppose, but there is still no news and you are not here, and the sense that Danarius is too near will not leave me. I feel you would say I am chasing shadows. Maybe so. I would still be more comfortable knowing he is dead.
Currently I write this from a window table at the small building that passes for this town's inn. Escra delights in this weather and has strapped special blades to his boots that allow him to skate on the ice. The woman at the trading post who provided them gave him a better price than usual because she said he would make a good show for the town. He has skated past my window four times requesting I join him on the street. As little as I enjoy this weather, I can think of nothing worse than suffering it solely for the sake of Escra's entertainment.
I have told Isabela again of the threat that Danarius poses to her and her crew. She has again refused to allow me to leave the ship's service. She believes I should allow the others to make their own choices over whether or not I should go. I have no wish to put them in danger, but neither is there passage for me away from this place at the moment.
Isabela has joined me at the table with a hot drink. I will write again soon.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
25th Firstfall
Hawke.
Hythe has become maddening. I am certain Danarius is near enough to endanger everyone here and yet I have no proof. I have told everyone of his nature and the danger I bring with me, but they have to the last refused to send me away. Escra in particular made a surprising speech of friendship and the like before turning a brilliant red and retreating behind Hugh.
But Hugh agreed with him. As did Naryse and Margareth and Thalia and Nor Emilio, and several of the rest of the crew. And Isabela behind them all. They are not your family Hawke. They are not even you. But I would stand with them against any enemy and be honored by the company.
If this ice does not ease soon I will take an axe to it myself. I cannot live any longer with this tiger at my back. The danger to them and to you is too great. I have gained too much to bear the loss.
Si vales valeo. Never have I meant it more Hawke.
Fenris
—
29th Firstfall
Hawke.
The ice has begun to move and we sail tomorrow for Amaranthine despite the danger still lingering in the waters. I do not pretend that Isabela has made this choice on my behalf, but she knows how glad I am of it. To think of your letters waiting for me all this time has been a burden on my mind, and I am glad to think it will soon be done. My own letters to you have exceeded the twine I originally used and forced me to tie two pieces together before it would hold. Isabela has promised me that the very first thing to be done on reaching Amaranthine is post them to you. This delay is even longer than I anticipated and I know you must worry even if you will not show it to your family.
Hawke. A trader has just come from a small merchant vessel to the inn where I write this to you. He was speaking with Thalia at another table, but it was loud enough I could overhear. He says he has just sailed from Amaranthine here on one of the first ships willing to make the journey. He says there are rumors a magister from Tevinter has been seen near the city several times over the last few weeks. I will not pretend any longer that this is not Danarius.
I do not know if he will still be there when we arrive. I do not know if he will stand and fight or wait to give chase again. I do however know that though you are not here with me, I will not face him alone. I am not afraid, and one way or another this will be finished.
I think of you so often Hawke.
Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
19th Wintermarch
Dear Hawke,
I know you don't recognize the handwriting, I'm scribing for Fenris. This is Isabela, captain splendid and bold, and Fenris would be writing to you himself if his arm wasn't strapped tight to his chest in a sling and the healers refusing to allow him a pen. Also he's a terrible patient. Which is why, of course, they've come to me.
(He's got a really excellent glower, did you know that? I'm sure you did, but stars. I'm getting the full force of it now and it's delicious.)
We've got all your letters here in a nice neat stack just out of arm's reach, don't worry about that. He's been fretting to death about reaching you since we were iced in just outside Amaranthine, and I promised him the very first thing we'd do was write you to let you know your elf was safe. Which he's regretting now, ha ha. Here's the important bits:
1. Fenris is alive. (And glowering.)
2. Danarius is dead. (Funny story. He can tell you that one.)
3. Nothing important on any part of Fenris has been permanently damaged, including his c—
Hawke do not listen. I am alive and I am sorry and will
Cock, is what I was going to say. It's been an interesting few months. Well, off to the postmaster with this nice little stack, he's waiting at the door, and I'm sure another letter from your elf will be along shortly with all his penitent explanations, just as soon as he can hold a pen anyway. (Take a note from someone who's had it tried and true: penitence is an extremely effective motivator. Just so you know.)
Ta ta,
Isabela, Captain, Siren's Call
—
20th Wintermarch
Dear Hawke,
It's Isabela again. I think I should have let him read those letters before I sent the last one after all. I've seen Fenris furious and I've seen him when he kills, but I've never seen a look like that as he read through your pages. He hadn't even got to the last one before he threw off the healer and started demanding pen and paper. Only—he really can't hold a pen yet for more than a few seconds, though not for lack of trying. So. Here I am. Everything that follows is exactly what he says, on my honor as a sailor. And for what it's worth, from what he's told me of all your family—I wish I hadn't kept him from you.
…
Hawke, I am sorry about your father. I am sorry I was not there, and I'm sorry it has taken me so long to retrieve your letters. I will give you the details of the battle at another time, but it is enough to say now that Danarius is dead and the fight with him was what kept me from writing you. I am healing now and will be well within the month, according to the mages here. They are not Bethany, but they do their best.
I grieve for Malcolm. I grieve that you took the weight of that alone, that your worry was made worse by my silence. I would have been there if I could. I would be there now if I could. This journey was meant to be for my freedom; what is that if I cannot choose to be where my home is?
The thought of his suffering weighs on me, but I confess it is yours that cuts worst. Hawke, forgive me. I will make this absence up to you, I swear it. Isabela says we will be aboard her ship on the journey home in a matter of weeks. It was damaged in the ice and we nearly capsized, but I will tell you about that another day.
Please tell your family I am well, and I grieve Malcolm's loss with them. You know I have little understanding of mourning, but I know the world has been made lesser now than it was before. I know there is little I can say to heal a wound so deep.
Hawke. Do not despair. I did not know Malcolm as well as I would have liked, but I know he would not have wished such a thing on any of his family, least of all you. I'll write again as soon as I am able, but this must be finished now to make the horse in time.
Si vales valeo, Hawke. I am yours. I have been for months, even if the words were not yet strong enough to be said. Si vales valeo. Have courage. I will write soon.
Fenris
by Isabela, Captain, Siren's Call
—
28th Wintermarch
Dear Fenris,
This is Bethany. It seems both of you are doomed to use scribes at the moment, as my sister has been in various states of grief and joy all morning and isn't fit to write a word. She's tried three times and none of it's been even the slightest bit legible, so she's asked me to write to you instead of wasting more paper.
Thank you, first, for your condolences about my father. It's still devastating when I can bear to think of him, though it truly is beginning to be lighter than it used to be. I know it will take a long time, but we Hawkes are resilient. Even for things like this.
I also would like to say
Fenris, it's Hawke. I've stolen the page from Bethany because I can't bear it. You're alive, and I knew it—oh, Fenris, you cannot do that to me again. I was so afraid, but now I can tell you to your face that I love you and for once there won't be a week's wait and a page between and I swear by the Maker if you vanish like that again I will
It's Bethany again. She's thrust the page back at me and walked away to collapse on the settee. I think it's still legible, though I might as well blot it now.
I was going to say I hope your recovery is going well. I know it's difficult, but do try to listen to the healers. I swear we aren't putting these restrictions on you for fun; they really are important, and they really are meant to help you heal faster. A little patience now goes a long way later.
We have begun to hear rumors here of Danarius's death at last. They don't specifically mention your name, but how many glowing warriors can there be? Still, talk is only talk, and by the time
Fenris, if you are not on the next boat to Minrathous I will personally sail down there and invade the bloody country inn by inn until I find you. I don't care what I said before, I thought you were dead and it was the worst thing I have ever
It's me again. Forgive her, Fenris. She was hit so hard by Father's death—I think she feels responsible, as if he ought to have been resting instead of doing her part of preparing the vote—but she held it together for all our sakes until she started realizing you weren't writing back when you should have. She became a shadow, and I've never seen…well, it doesn't matter. She's alive now, and she practically burned down the curtains in the dining room when Bodahn came dancing in with the thick packet of letters postmarked Amaranthine, even if it wasn't a familiar hand. She needed something to hold on to, if that makes sense.
We'll watch for your next letter eagerly. I've written to your sister as well with the news. I so look forward to seeing you again!
With love,
Bethany
P.S. Dearest Fenris, precious Fenris, lover, it's Hawke. I love you. I had to say it again before this got folded up and sent, but it's still true. It's bloody agony at the moment, but it's true. Get here as soon as you can.
—
29th Wintermarch
Hawke.
They still frown at me holding a pen but when I threatened to maim the healer they have allowed me short periods of writing to you. They have not realized the pen is the extent of my strength at the moment.
Hawke. I must say again how grieved I am at your father's loss. Malcolm was a good man and always kind to me even if he did not always understand, but all of your family has been kind. You did not deserve this loss and I am sorry it has struck you so suddenly.
But enough. I will not continue to bruise old wounds until I see you again and can tell you in my own words. I have promised you the story of my delay, and this seems as good a time as any. I turn back through your letters almost as soon as I have finished them, so I am sure you will not be dismayed to read as much as I can provide after all this time. It has been long enough I do not remember the precise contents of my previous letters, so I will tell the story as quickly as possible.
The first ports at the islands north of Amaranthine posed no trouble. We stayed a few weeks at each one as Isabela reunited with her friends and collected the rum and whiskey they intended her to bring north for selling. At first it all went exactly to plan, until at one of the last stops a merchant objected to her prices. This was the middle of Firstfall. We stayed a few days longer than planned to barter with him, but by the time they had at last settled the ice had already begun to creep from the south. We barely made it to a small port town southeast of Amaranthine before the harbors froze and no ships could arrive or return. The roads were dangerous and in some places impassable, and though I knew your letters were waiting for me in Amaranthine I could not reach them.
We waited in Hythe for over two weeks until the ice began to thaw enough for the largest ships to begin early passage. Then we took a short dangerous journey to Amaranthine, which is when the ship nearly wrecked itself on larger ice that would not yield. I will say I have never been so cold in my life and if this is habitual for Ferelden I do not wonder that you ever moved so far north. By this time Wintermarch was here and I knew you would be waiting for word from me. But I was not yet desperate. I knew you would not be frantic over a small delay with such weather. I did not imagine you were suffering as you were, or there is no ice which could have stopped me.
Hawke. Danarius waited for us in Amaranthine. I do not know how to say it to soften it. He had found the ship at last and knew where we would dock, and when we came limping into the port and to the nearest inn, he had taken rooms there already to wait for us. We sat down for the first hot meal on a table in weeks and out he stepped from the stairs instead.
I could not believe it at first. Your letters had been the only thing on my mind before, and here he was like a monster out of a story to bring me home with him again.
But I would not go. Isabela understood first and stood with me. She is quick with her daggers and quicker with her mouth, but here she let me speak for all of them. You would be good friends with her, I think. Then the rest of them stood with her at my back, Margareth and Thalia and Nor Emilio and everyone I have written of to you, and there was no hesitation in any of them as they drew blades against the magister.
But Danarius would not accept my refusal this time and he would not leave without me. We fought for some time. He summoned foul dead things with magic and used spells I have only seen him work a handful of times against his worst enemies. I increasingly distrust most magic save yours and your family's, Hawke. It so often seems to do little good for those who wield it.
Everyone who stood with me fought as well, though they were half-dead with exhaustion and near starved. Thankfully none of them died, though Escra made a good attempt at it by rushing Danarius with a sword he had forgotten had a flimsy hilt which broke off in his hand. Isabela fought very well and did nearly as much damage to him as I. Thalia and Margareth are a formidable force in tandem, and Hugh threw shades into the wall as if they weighed nothing. Even Naryse and Nor Emilio used their magic in my defense without any fear of the magister they faced. And in the end…
I killed him, Hawke. His magic failed him as I reached his side and I tore out his throat as I had once promised him. It was a simple thing.
He was so small when he died. Small and bleeding and begging. I remembered him differently. Although…I suppose I have changed as well. I should have realized that a man who ruled by fear could have no strength when met by someone no longer afraid.
The truth is I still have not yet grasped the truth. I was badly wounded in the battle and spent much of the next week insensible under the care of Amaranthine's healers. The first day I woke was the day Isabela wrote to you of our survival. I could not give her the address before.
Forgive me, Hawke. This letter is already too long and has taken me most of two days to write, and the healers begin to understand I cannot fight them if they take the pen from me.
Danarius is dead and I am free. I know you will say I was free before. But I could not live with a tiger at my back, and now he is dead.
I will write to you again the moment I know when we depart for Minrathous.
I am yours, Hawke, avis. Si vales valeo.
Fenris
—
7th Guardian
To the one man in Thedas with whom I happen to be in agonizing, occasionally quite frustrating love,
I confess I am—possibly for the first time in my life—at something of a loss for words. Don't get used to it. It's just…I'm so mixed up in all these feelings I haven't the faintest idea how to start sorting them through.
I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad for you. I'm viciously pleased that Danarius is dead and highly indignant I wasn't there to help kill him myself. I'm relieved beyond measure you've found so many wonderful people willing to stand and fight with you, and bitterly disappointed I won't have the chance to meet them, and sorry on your behalf that you're leaving them behind.
At the same time…well. The only reason I'm being this brutally honest with you (and myself) is that you know me too well already, and you're probably already sitting there with that self-satisfied smirk on your face for being able to read me so easily. The only reason I can bear to feel any of those things is because propping up all of them is the terrible, selfish joy of knowing you're coming back to me.
It's been eleven months. I want you here. I want you in my arms where I can hold you and remember you're not just a shade from my dreams or a little bit of ink on paper.
With all the love a heart that physically aches for you can spare (I didn't even know they could do that, Fenris! I thought that was only in novels),
Hawke
—
12th Guardian
Hawke.
Isabela has just informed me there is a ship that will bring me to Minrathous which departs within the week. She has come across another job in the Waking Sea west of Jader which she has decided to pursue herself, and she can't go so far north without risking its loss. I suspect piracy but I cannot bring myself to really care. She is a good woman, and I hope you will have the chance to meet her again with fewer lives at stake.
I have made my farewells to the rest of the crew as well. Many of them will continue on with Isabela though a few have finished their trips at sea and wish to go home for a reprieve. Escra is one of these and this morning when I spoke with him he gave a wrapped parcel to me. It was a heavy cut of jade strung on a long piece of braided leather. I recognized the braiding immediately, though it took me some time to understand that he had given me a necklace made by a Fog Warrior.
Then Escra told me that not only is he from Seheron, he was once a Fog Warrior himself. I have always remembered them to be free with their affections, but he has been free with far more than that in our acquaintance. I thought perhaps he might have known them when he mentioned the Seheron skirmishes, but I never thought him capable of such formidable strength as those warriors have in my memory. In looking back there were many signs, in his braiding, his talk of the jungle rebels, his dyes. I have pushed away those memories for so long I did not allow myself to see what was before my eyes.
He said that he realized as a young man he could not spend his life in those jungles and chose to sail instead, but that he goes home as frequently as he can. The braiding pattern is meant to be one marking strong friendship. I did not know what to say at first. I could not, however, accept such a gift in good faith, and when he began to look hurt I told him very briefly of what occurred in Seheron at Danarius's command.
He said he knew. An uncle of his had been among the Fog Warriors I knew there and had nearly died at my hand, but did not. He told another tribe when they found him. Escra said his uncle did not blame me then, and that Escra himself did not blame me now. He said he knew a little of slavery and the burden of it. I think I would tolerate this world better if I was allowed to bear the blame for some of these things.
I will say that for some minutes I found it difficult to speak, but he is as intolerant as you of heavy silences and made some comment that immediately restored me to all my impatience. Regardless, he has a great deal of my gratitude. I am not sure I showed it well, but he seemed to understand all the same.
Thalia and Margareth are to continue on with Isabela to Jader. Hugh returns to Orlais with Naryse for some religious festival and then they join again in the summer. Nor Emilio is nowhere to be found today, but Isabela says he will find his way no matter where he goes. Still, I am glad I have had the chance to speak with the rest one last time before I leave.
Isabela has already booked my passage on the Harper's Star and informed the captain I am a passenger of some distinction not to be trifled with. I do not know which distinction she means, but considering the fear in the man's eyes every time I pass his berth on the docks I am not sure I wish to know. Regardless, he will not interfere. And this is no leisurely journey southward as Isabela's was. He sails with all speed, and with good winds I will be in Minrathous by the second week of Cloudreach.
Never did I expect to look forward so eagerly to the sight of that city's walls. If the Maker himself were to offer me your door within the hour it would not be soon enough.
I am yours, Hawke. Si vales valeo. Watch for me among the ships and I will find you.
Fenris