BioWare owns all; I just play in their pond. Reviews are always welcome!
A/N: Now that we're a bit later in the timeline – Act 2 is almost finished – I don't feel very guilty about saying screw canon where Fenris is concerned. Although I haven't gone quite that far with it. It does suit my purposes for my post-game thoughts, but I've spent a lot of time disliking Fenris simply because BioWare never let his character develop. At all. If I were keeping him canon, I'm sure there would have been a great bloody battle in this chapter.
As it is, I wasn't planning on the below happening until Fenris's bit in Act 3, but the Hawke muse wouldn't shut the hell up about the things he had to say. Maybe he's a little more disturbed by the last chapter than my original plan thought he'd be…
Also, as someone who avoids Fenris whenever possible, I had to proof this chapter a gazillion times to make sure I stayed true to the formal way he speaks. I want to give this elf a bag full of apostrophes and tell him to go crazy…
25. Libertas – Fenris
Whatever else you can say about the man, he certainly doesn't waste any words… Hawke couldn't decide whether to take it for good or ill that Fenris hadn't said a word since opening the door to his master's mansion and letting him in out of the rain. Climbing the stairs, he wondered if the elf had set foot in any of the rest of the estate since they'd cleared out the magister's traps years ago.
Without waiting for an invitation, Hawke lowered himself onto one of the low stools by the fire, stretching his legs and hoping his boots would be dry before he left for home. An exercise in futility, knowing I'm just going to sink hip-deep in every blasted puddle on the way back home. Ah, well, at least the elf in my estate gets a thrill out of seeing magic used for comfort.
Still silent, Fenris sat on the bench opposite the mage and waited him out. He'd been thinking, just lately, that he should seek Hawke out, having left things off poorly weeks ago. He'd had plenty of time for thinking since Hadriana, and more time still to curse the incessant nagging in his mind that reminded him just how many mages hadn't hesitated to abandon their plans and confront the magister. Though he might never admit it directly, he found himself conflicted over the abomination and the blood mage; living representations of the worst Tevinter horrors though they might be, he owed them his continued freedom. And for all that, his experience of them since arriving in Kirkwall had him questioning just how different they were from the man in front of him.
Well, that's about enough being brooded at for me for an evening… Realizing it was up to him, Hawke couldn't resist. "Hello, Hawke, welcome to my home. Please, be comfortable. Why thank you, Fenris! I think my boots may dry themselves even before our convivial greeting is concluded!"
Fenris felt his lips turning up before he could think to stop them. "If that is the conversation you seek, you could just as easily have had it in your own sitting room."
"Yes, but even with his best efforts, Bodahn just can't give me any solid disapproval. Best he can do is look slightly vexed when I ask."
Now the elf laughed, determined to confound the man similarly, even if he couldn't recall appearing vexed at any time in his life. "I am never going to know whether you truly did ask him, am I? As you wish, then. What brings you here?"
"Haven't seen you at the Hanged Man lately."
"And you are concerned that I have isolated myself in this dark and dreary mansion, never again to see the light of day?" Fenris's lips quirked again.
"Maker, no. That's Varric's job. I've… been thinking, though, and I don't think I've given you a completely fair turn. Since I'd half a mind to ask you for a favor, it's best to be out with this first." Hawke drew a breath, as if bracing himself. "Recent events – you'll thank me for keeping the details to myself – have made me more aware than I'd like to be that it's entirely possible to look at someone who represents a certain class of people and apply that experience to the rest of that group by association. It made me think of your… caution… where mages are concerned.
"When I considered it, I remembered you telling me that you've no memory prior to the markings, and I had to realize that your only personal experience with my kind prior to meeting me had been Hadriana and Danarius, and those of their ilk. Knowing that, it's a wonder you've had anything to do with those of us you've met here. I know my argument in the past has been that not all mages are the same, and that you should give us a chance, but… isn't that what you've been doing, coming to the Hanged Man and lending us your blade as you have over the years?"
When Hawke fell silent, Fenris rose, wondering how best to respond. While he thought about the parts of his internal argument the mage had just made for him, he crossed the room to pour out wine for his guest. Glasses in hand, he returned to his seat at the fire.
Intent on the swirling crimson in his hand, he said, "It seems we have both had things to ponder. I had… resolved myself, not long ago, to the truth of what you had to say some years ago – evil being evil. It seems there is much that I do not understand. Plainly, I have been preoccupied with the notion that the evils I've seen may not have been motivated by demons, and I have found myself questioning the motivation behind Danarius's actions."
"Would you care for my opinion on the matter?"
"Please."
"He's a prick."
Fenris had expected something windy and profound, and as a result was now choking on the wine he'd started to savor. Wonders never cease.
Hawke continued, grin fading as he spoke. "Well, he is. It takes a certain kind of person to seek out demons, Fenris. You know the man arguably better than people he'd call his compatriots, and going on the things you've said I just don't see a demon prompting the man to anything he's done. He's a bad sort, and because he is, he had no qualms about trading a bit of the soul he doesn't have to augment his power. And before you speak, I know I say this in the face of my friendship with Merrill. The bad and the desperate, Fenris, those are your blood mages. Merrill isn't evil, and I just don't see Danarius being desperate."
"Nor are mages the only ones susceptible to desperation," the elf spoke quietly.
"And nor has Merrill ever harmed anyone. You've known her as long as I have. Can you see her agreeing to the terms of any deal a demon would offer if they include subjugating or torturing others?"
"That has been a large source of… discontent, for me, though I have worried over the effect it will have on others if she has agreed to become possessed at any time. In the years of our acquaintance, were she anything like the magisters of my experience, she would have wrested any power she could from the Fade many times over by now, but she remains unchanged. I cannot promise to go directly from this conversation to the alienage intent on befriending her, but you have given me much to reflect upon. At the risk of damaging this newfound… understanding… we've reached, I would ask you of Anders."
"What of him?" Huh. He actually used the man's name.
"He seems largely unchanged as well, for all that he appears to be more comfortable within his own skin. It is the spirit that troubles me; have you noticed that it has become increasingly… insistent, at all?"
"I can't tell you I haven't, much as I'd like to. What I can tell you is that Anders is aware of it as well, and continues to maintain control."
"I… will trust that you have the right of it. You mentioned asking a favor of me?"
Hawke sipped his wine, wondering if he'd given the elf too much to think about already. No help for it. Ah, well, in for a copper, in for a sovereign. "I did. It's to do with Orana."
Fenris's eyebrows rose. "The girl you employed? What assistance could I possibly give you with her?"
"She's still a slave, Fenris." And so were you, until just recently; maybe you'll get more out of this favor than I thought. "She spends her rest days cleaning and hovering over Bodahn to learn cooking. I've tried convincing her she should see some of the city – Hightown, anyway – or find a hobby or… something, anything other than living in constant servitude. She won't do it, and acts like I'm offering her a trap of some kind when I encourage her to have a life of her own. She seems to be hideously uncomfortable when Bodahn engages me in conversation, as if she just can't ever see that being her place. I wondered if you might speak with her, see if you can figure out what will do the trick."
Fenris had to ask himself, now, if his escape would have been any easier if someone had been there to define freedom for him. No, it wouldn't have been, because my master still lives. Putting someone else at that kind of risk would have been unacceptable. Still… "Perhaps introducing her to one of your neighbors' servants might be more productive in this area?"
"The neighbors who think I should still be a servant, rather than employing one? Although asking them about it might be fun for a lark, I'll give you that. More, though, she's used to seeing you around the estate. She knows I trust you, which I think might allow for a more… natural approach."
The elf looked perilously close to laughing again. "A request for subtlety? From the man who so recently stood on a hill outside the slavers' den and, on spotting reinforcements below, asked me to 'ghost down there and pummel those twats before they see us up here?'"
Hawke lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please don't tell my mother I said that."
The moment struck Fenris as so… normal, he supposed. He was surprised to find that he considered the man as… a man, and wondered when his first thought of Hawke had stopped being mage. "Very well, then. I will call on you, the next time I know you will be out."
"Sneaky. I like it." Grinning again, Hawke stood to take his leave.
The elf rolled his eyes upward to look at the mage. "We can discuss the payment for my continued silence in the presence of Leandra at another time."
"If you're coming to Wicked Grace this week, you're not allowed to talk to Isabela."