I'm sorry if it seems like this skips ahead and rushes a little; please, nobody get whiplash on me, I just didn't want to post another filler chapter! LET'S GOO ALREADEEEHH~

"To the right, to the left
We will fight to the death
to the edge of the earth
it's a brave new world
it's a brave new world."

- War, 30 Seconds to Mars

ACT TWO

AUTONOMY

21. Flight

The finale event - Danarius' final, extravagant fight - would be held today.

I had never felt more nervous; not when facing the Darkspawn, joining a mercenary guild, or trekking into the Deep Roads; everything was on the line for Fenris and me - if we didn't get out now, we would never get this chance again.

Danarius had planned this event from the beginning - he had finally narrowed down his source of fighters to sixteen damn good professionals. Fenris had informed me in a very brief meeting that, in the arena today, they would be sent out four at a time - the survivors of each bought would be replenished and healed, and at the end of the day, there would be only four left – four out of any of the fighters, ones Danarius owned, ones that were competing to honor their respective owners, or those who had volunteered willingly for glory or for a boon.

It didn't matter. We had a very narrow window of opportunity, and we both counted on the other to hold up our respective responsibilities.

Fenris had to survive.

I had to magic us out of the line of fire.

The road was as bumpy as ever on the ride over; I sat with my new staff perched beside me, twiddling my thumbs. Danarius sat across from me; unlike before, we were the only two in the cart, and it was awkward as hell.

The fighters had ridden on earlier in the morning; I had had no opportunity to wish Fenris well before the fight began, no time to kiss him for luck – and I hadn't seen or heard from him in a week.

One tough week of training for him, I assumed, and one forced week of practice for me – cleverly disguised practice, that is, since I couldn't very well practice my escape technique fully.

I hope I have enough stamina to pull this off. It was a piece of magic that I had never attempted before, but had frequently seen – the concept was simple, but I was prepared to put it in use at a much larger scale than a normal mage would conceive.

Whatever gets us out, I reminded myself, inhaling slowly to calm my shot nerves. I practiced the simple kinetic cage whenever I had the chance, making barriers around objects that had no business being caged – apples, my bed, my wardrobe, and finally a dinner table that I happened to walk by.

The magic, however simple, would be completely staggering when on the humongous scale.

Aim high, and all, I thought, trying to cheer myself up as I peered behind the curtain, watching voyeuristically as some person tripped and fell straight into a cabbage cart.

I snorted, dropping the curtain. Ha. See! It happens to other people, too.

Although, it's kind of sad that I'm accustomed to falling on my face in failure these days.

I only hope that failure doesn't apply to today.

I worried my lip, continuing to stare at the dark curtain contemplatively. If Fenris was counted among the last group to fight, the fourth fight, our window of opportunity would fade into nothingness – directly after that fight, everyone would pack up and go home – or in the case of the remaining fighters, they would all be sent to Danarius' manor. If they threw him into the fight during the fourth and final battle, we would have to fall into a backup plan and wait for another day – if there would be another day.

But, despite my nerves, I felt a strong feeling of imminent success. There was always a chance that something could go wrong - but there was an equal chance that it would go right.

Still, I agonized and dragged over every single detail in my mind, making sure that I knew my part perfectly, and that we would be leaving no cut corners on our way out. One should never be too assured of themselves, I heard my mother say.

The battle seemed so grand in its scope, culling off so many of the fighters - Danarius could very well decide that four candidates were enough and go on with the ritual and burn markings on all of their hides, crowning the one who lived as his new personal body guard. I wasn't sure what he had planned after this fight, but I was certain that it would be imperative to get out now.

If I ever see that damn mansion again, it'll be too soon.

What if this doesn't work? What if there is another way?

I had never been adept at disguising myself in shadows; that was Isabela's forte, and no matter how often she tried to teach me to make myself vague enough to disappear from sight, I could never catch on.

Sneaking out won't be an option; we have to break ourselves out and keep the rest from following us. This is the best chance for making a run for it.

Most of the guards would be stationed on the inside, watching the fighters and keeping the patrons in line; in between the fights, they would escort and watch those among the fighters who would be heading out into battle – but the warriors coming inside would be given leniency, since they would be injured and tired.

If Fenris sustains any injuries, they will be a blessing and a curse. The worse his injuries were, the less closely the guards would watch him; it would be simple for him to slip from their minds and sneak out quickly. He knew this arena; he knew the back entrance – there were guards there, but he had assured me that he could take them.

Which brought me full circle back to being injured: if he was injured, his movement possibly hindered, the plan would be ruined. My magic wouldn't affect anyone beyond the building, and if he didn't make it out within a few minutes of his fight, I would either have to head back in to get him or make a run for it by myself; and if I took the former action, I could never be sure if I could actually help him or if I would kill both of our chances – using as much power as I was prepared to use in our initial move, expending that much energy to lock those people inside – it could cripple me.

I inhaled dust and listened to the lively sounds of a market in full swing outside the four walls of the cart – the baying of animals, people arguing, the jingle of a purse. I almost smiled, so reminded was I of Lothering - the farmers' wives heckling for better prices in the market, the sounds of children playing at the expense of the Templar men - who were the butts of their jokes and pranks.

I glanced at Danarius out of the corner of my eye. He seemed as lost in thought as I, fingering a ring on his finger idly.

I had to come up with a plan to leave his side - but ever since our confrontation in his office, he no longer kept a tight leash on me.

He thinks that he doesn't have to, I thought, that he's instilled enough fear into me that I won't try anything.

Joke's on you, Danarius.

I cleared my throat, turning my head to face him. "Would you mind terribly if I mingled with the crowd a little?" I asked, putting on my best Wicked Grace face.

He had expressed before, during the ball, that I might enjoy "mingling" with people, since I was quite socially inactive, being trapped in his home. And it was true enough - I saw Pana occasionally, but not often; she was always busy pursuing her talents, which she had every right to - but I missed the presence of people to which I could relate.

At least now I have Fenris, I mused to myself.

"Planning to cause trouble?" Danarius said easily with a jaunty raise of his eyebrow.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He can't know.

Shit, he knows.

He has to know.

But he couldn't know!

Damn him. I laughed, trying to make it sound as genuine as possible despite my inner distress. "Indeed. I have so few peers to speak with, as Hadriana despises me - and none of the servants can hold a very lively conversation." I cracked a knuckle on my hand. "I think I would like to cause some trouble – a little, at the very least."

Danarius left me with a withering sigh as the cart stopped. "Very well, Taris; I'm sure you are aware of the repercussions, should you make any foolish attempt to escape." He smiled wryly, thinking himself clever. "Enjoy yourself today."

You have no idea.

"Taris, before we leave," his voice pulled me back as I shifted to exit the cart. "I would like to remind you that I have very many friends – powerful friends – at my disposal, and several of them will find themselves seated at this event." His eyebrows rose. "It is your choice whether or not you take the opportunity to integrate yourself into the social circles of the Imperium – it is also your choice if you wish face a bloody death at the hands of a guard." Danarius' hand lifted, signaling for me to take my leave. "I suggest you behave yourself."

Don't glare, don't glare, don't glare.

Shit, I'm glaring. I turned frantically, trying not to show my ire on my face.

Is he trying to be funny? My finger twitched.

May you rot in hell, Danarius.

I was ushered out of the cart first by the coachman; being a lady had its privileges, and I wanted to put as much space in between me and the magister as possible. I surveyed the surroundings - there were several carts and coachmen waiting in the sun for their masters to tire themselves of bloodsport - there were also a few loose horses milling about, as well, tied off to posts and whinnying morosely in the sun.

I walked into the stadium and immediately headed for the stairs, forgoing those that Danarius would use to climb to his private box. I ran up every flight I spotted, sometimes having to jog down a hallway and dodge a leisurely climbing person to get to the next set, not stopping until I had reached the very top, breathless and winded.

When sunlight broke over my head, I knew that I was high enough; I panted heavily, thoroughly out of breath, my heart bounding. There was a short banister ringing the upper level; when I looked over it, a wave of dizziness crashed over me and I had to take a step back.

Whoa.

I held my staff in one hand, leveling myself against the stone beneath me.

It looks a lot bigger from this end, I remarked to myself. I peered down at the sand below, only just able to spy the people setting up the weapons for the match.

It's impossible, I wanted to think, contemplating a spell on such a large scale. But just as the thought formed, I heard my father's voice speak above it:

Nothing is impossible for a Hawke.

I took a deep breath and thumbed the blue potion beneath my robes - I had nicked it from the healing room before I had descended the stairs to join Danarius earlier. I readied myself for anything.

Only a few other people ventured as high as I; they slowly walked past me, trading a greeting and a few words, remarking on the view and the sunlight. I smiled thinly and returned similar observations until they walked off, to the other side of the stadium, leaving me to my own thoughts.

The floor was dusty beneath my feet as I contemplated the arena, staff readily held in hand.

As soon as we fled, I would have to abandon the magic conducting staff –gift or not, I didn't trust anything Danarius gave me. I couldn't bear to leave anything to chance, and I had no idea if Danarius had a tracking spell woven into the light wood. There was no time to make certain, now, and it would be just as simple to leave it behind – I could already perform most spells without the aid of a staff, thanks to Danarius himself.

Fenris would be below my feet, in the belly of the stone beast that was the stadium, sizing up his opponents and readying his arm.

The thought of him down there sent waves of unease through me, and I was alarmingly aware of the many things that could go wrong today.

He could very well die.

The fact that he was fighting was a simpler obstacle to grasp when I didn't have to witness the act; but here, with the thundering crowd in the stands and the powerful fighters below, it was a very real concept that he could be killed.

I shivered, even though it was stifling beneath my robes. My hem billowed dust into the air, the particles sticking in my throat.

What if Fenris died?

What if he wasn't strong enough?

What if Danarius knew what we were planning?

Have faith in him.

He has faith in you.

I took a steadying breath. Fenris was no easy match; I knew how powerful he was. I would have to believe that he was the strongest man there.

My feet pulled me to the edge of the walkway, and I stood between two pillars, my eyes scanning the crowd filling the stands.

There were so many bodies filling the place. Person after person, mage and nonmage alike took their seats, but my eyes only flashed to one whiskered face.

Danarius stood in a loft, laughing and greeting his peers with ease.

He was the man of the hour, for hosting such a wonderful show.

No one had the foggiest suggestion as to why this was happening; these people, the spectators in the stands, they all thought that this was an exhibition for their own enjoyment, courtesy of Danarius.

They would never imagine that this was Danarius' way of narrowing down these fighters to a private selection of body guards; they would never know what would happen to the men proclaimed victorious.

I did.

I had seen evidence of it, writhing and gasping on a gurney, blackened and screaming in pain.

I swallowed thickly, looking away from the posh seating on the balcony, feeling sickened.

Danarius was using good men for the sake of his own sick exhibition. Not only was he gaining a powerful bodyguard, but he was showing the audience of Minrathous that he had the resources to be extravagant in order to entertain his people.

My eyes were drawn to the center of the stadium: the arena. Full of wafting dust, I could not determine if it was intended to be sandy or ended up that way with all the lingering sand from the occasional sandstorm. My eyes flicked to the gate where the fighters would emerge from.

I inhaled deeply. All the fighters were elite men and women who had qualified for this final round; Fenris was counted among the sixteen that had doggedly fought and pursued this one ambition, and they had all ended up here.

Their unlikely graveyard.

Unlike the others, however, Fenris and I truly intended to escape slave life. Fenris wasn't going to be upgraded to Danarius' bodyguard.

Fenris was going to be upgraded into a free man. It had been my fault that Fenris was brought into Danarius' eye; it would be my assistance that pulled us from his view.

We would survive.

We had to.

I felt the faint calling of magic surge through the air; my eyes snapped to Danarius once again as he approached a tall podium reserved for the host, his hand on his throat.

"I would like to welcome you all to this event, my friends," Danarius said, his voice carrying loudly across the stadium with a little bit of magical aid. The roar of the crowd dwindled as everyone looked to him, quieting.

"I hope that you will all enjoy yourselves this morning," he continued, grinning like a snake. I glared at him, hoping he would feel the heat of my eyes scorching him.

His cold eyes met mine, and we locked gazes.

I'm going to leave, and I'm taking him with me, I thundered in my mind, feeling a slow smile spread across my face.

His mouth was moving, but I didn't care what he said. All lies.

"-the first of our challengers," he said lifting his hands. My eyes remained on his, defiant and angry.

His smile tightened – does he really suspect-?

Of course he does.

There is nothing you can do to stop us.

The crowd continued where it left off, a bloodthirsty roar echoing past the walls. My ears rang with the force of it, my skin prickled at the feeling that trembled down my spine.

I am not afraid of you.

The gate opened, and I dragged my eyes away from Danarius to watch the wrought iron ascend, more than likely drawn by slaves.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered if he would emerge.

My fingers curled around my staff and I watched, breath shuddering as five men surfaced, all dazedly staring around at the stands of screaming onlookers. The gate closed behind the last elf, and I felt agitation rise in my gut.

No Fenris.

The men broke into a run to the far side of the arena; I watched as their tough legs served them well, their muscles pushing them faster than I could ever dream to be.

They reached a cache of weapons that I hadn't noticed was there; the man to reach the weapons first selected a heavy battle axe that weighed down his arm. An elf in the back retrieved a bow and arrow, and another scavenged a pack of throwing knives.

All glared intensely in the heat of the sun, and the first man to strike broke the dam of excitement. Like coiled springs, they all leapt into action, throwing and slicing and ducking and rolling.

I averted my eyes as an arc of blood twisted into the air, painting the sand.

I bided my time, searching the place for exits. I knew exactly where Fenris would be; I had already designed our escape plan perfectly with that perspective in mind.

Still, it was always prudent to have a backup plan, just in case things went belly up.

I knew when there was only one man left standing; my ears whistled with the screaming of the fans, and my eyes strayed back to see the hulking man raising his arms and shouting with victory; he was escorted from the field and into the alcove he had entered from, stabbing his axe into the sand as he left.

Don't act so happy about it, I thought with a grimace. If you only knew...

As soon as he reached the shaded area, four new candidates were released from the gate, all igniting into a quick pace to the weapon racks across the arena.

My heart lodged in my throat when I saw a lanky elf jab a man in his side with his elbow. The man went down, and the elf leaped over the mass of muscle and hair and leather to get ahead of him.

I couldn't see his head beneath the helmet he wore, but I knew that it was Fenris.

I wanted to call out to him, to let him know I was supporting him, but I knew he wouldn't hear me. Even if he could, it would only distract him from his purpose.

"Fenris," I whispered, inhaling around the name. It had to be him; he dodged the bite of the winner's axe – which someone had been so gracious as to grab - to snatch a greatsword from the wall.

Danarius had forced him to become an expert at wielding the killing tool, as was evident by how easily he could manipulate and kill with the blade. Still, it wasn't as effortless as he would wield it in time, but for now -

"You can do this, Fenris," I said, more for myself than for him, but anxiously watched as he took the head from an opponent.

The two remaining men backed away from him as he slung his blade, splattering the blood across their faces and leaping back into action.

The crowd ate it up, yelling in encouragement.

Danarius was smiling.

The human dove at Fenris, but he ducked, twisting around him. His blade sank into the man's side as another elf's elbow connected to Fenris' helmeted face, making him stumble backwards.

I winced.

Fenris staggered beneath the twirl of a sword and kicked at its human wielder, pushing him over and pushing towards the elf who had elbowed him. I exhaled as the fight escalated, the two fighters realizing that Fenris was no one to be trifled with. They ganged up on him unconsciously, an unfair challenge, and attacked as one, swiftly diving back into a fray.

But my Fenris was faster. He leapt into the air, his knee connecting with the bleeding human's head. He dropped, and Fenris fell with him, rolling as a weapon descended.

Behind you, I willed him as the elf approached, two throwing blades in hand. Fenris rolled to his feet, pulling his blade around in time to catch the elf's attack. He blocked both blades, shielding himself with the giant sword before taking a leap at the other elf.

Yes, my mind cheered, grinning. He was glorious, all muscle and steel and power. His technique was flawless, his passion undeterred as he turned back on the human, parrying the man's blade away.

-and then a knife whistled through the air, lodging deep into his shoulder. My face transformed into a mask of horror as I watched him drop his sword to the ground, unable to see his face but having a clear sight of the blood pooling beneath his armor.

The crowd cheered.

"Fenris!" I yelled, grasping the edge of the sun baked, hot balcony wall, my toes curling in my restricting shoes in fear. The human man saw Fenris' distracted position and lurched forward to take the advantage as the other elf grew preoccupied with swiftly retrieving his loose knives. "Get up, Fenris!" I screamed at him, helpless as he hunched over, his uninjured arm reaching behind him to try and pull out the blade in his shoulder.

"Friend of yours?" asked a curious voice from my left. I ignored it, my eyes too intent on watching the scene unfold in front of me. "Such a shame, really; I understand you don't have a great number of friends."

My eyes flicked sideways at the man's face, noting that it was the man who had requested Danarius bring me today – I felt a trickle of gratitude, but couldn't fully express it at the blond haired man at that moment.

My eyes moved back to Fenris, who was still down.

Get up.

Get up.

Maker damn it, get up!

It wouldn't end like this - it couldn't end like this. But I was unable to help. If this had been any other event, I could have ran to his aid, but for this...

He was completely on his own.

"Fenris!" I screamed his name until my face went red from exertion. Fenris, spotting the man stalking towards him, scrambled to his feet and stumbled away, one arm curling lifelessly at his side and the other grabbing his sword.

"Resilient elf, isn't he?" the man to my right remarked. I ignored him again, focusing on the fight.

His straining hand lifted his blade in defense as a trio of blades crashed down at him, forcing his weapon aside. Grip shaky with the lack of his other hand, it fell from his grasp; I shouted in desperation, willing him to run, to get out of there, to kill that man before he could attack.

But Fenris could do none of those things; his arm was useless, dangling at his side, preventing him from wielding the greatsword efficiently.

I beat my fist against the shallow wall of the balcony. All he could do was dodge, but that wouldn't ensure his victory.

The man struck again, but Fenris ducked out of the way, panting heavily. Blood dripped down his arm, and I shut my eyes.

The crowd cried out in surprise a few moments later, and my eyes tentatively opened.

An elf - the one who had injured Fenris - had thrown a dart into the human man's neck while had been distracted by getting a hit on Fenris. I saw him crumpled on the floor of the arena, lifeless, his sword collecting sand.

Fenris perched on the wall rack of weapons, a crossbow in hand, his feet resting lightly on a wooden beam – having jumped up there in the few seconds my eyes were shut. I inhaled a deep breath through my nose at the sight. The blond, aged man to my right laughed heartily at Fenris' ingenuity.

He sent an arrow at the leg of the elf with throwing knives, but the man dodged, rolling to the side, throwing out a blade in retribution. It sliced Fenris' deadweight arm, but that didn't deter him.

Fenris impressed me with his ability to improvise with whatever tool was near – with one working arm, even; when keeping the man at bay with arrows ceased to be effective, he leapt from the rack, but not before gleaning a thin, Orlesian sword from the bunch to attack with.

My eyes flickered to the place where Danarius rested, only to find him looking bored. My breath hitched in anger and frustration.

How could he be bored?

The blighter.

I had to trust in Fenris' ability to win.

"I suppose I'll come back after this fight," the man said. I nodded idly in his direction, not wanting to be rude, but not particularly caring.

Just leave. No amount of gratefulness towards him for getting me here would distract me from this fight.

Fenris poised to attack, but his opponent slid a blade into his hand and flung it outward, cutting deep into the flesh of Fenris' leg; I winced.

Fenris rolled out of the way before another wound could be dealt, one hand straying to his thigh in a ditch effort to stop the flow of blood.

I knew this would be hard to watch, but I could never have fathomed just how hard it would be. The sun had risen, hot and white in the noonday sky, pounding against the sand in the arena until my vision wavered with the scorch of it.

Fenris leapt backwards as another blade shot out, and I winced as it narrowly missed him. Everything but my vision faded out; I no longer heard the cries of surprise and suspense from the crowd, I no longer felt the heat on my back, the sweat on my neck, or the sting of dust in my eyes.

All I saw was Fenris as a knife found its way to him, barely slicing between a gap in his armor, cutting the skin on his side. Fenris wouldn't give up, however, and feinted to the side as the elf angled him back to the weapon rack, picking up a discarded blade as he did so, lifting it with both hands as a mockery to Fenris' limp arm.

The fighter fell upon him and they engaged in a few blows and parries; Fenris was knocked off balance long enough for his opponent to deal a heavy blow to his head with a stroke of his hilt, snapping his head back.

I gripped the short wall with my fingers, watching Fenris dart away with the extra momentum, only to return swinging, his movements desperate and erratic.

The other fighter barely had time to parry the attacks, they were so numerous and swift; in a split second, the other's blade had been knocked aside, and Fenris had sent his blade straight into the elf's heart.

I pounded my fists against the wall, yelling triumphantly with the rest of the crowd.

Fenris was the winner.

I laughed, punching the air in triumph. We had won.

Fenris was alive.

An escort wandered into the field to assist Fenris down to where the previous victor had vanished; four more fighters took to the field, and I lifted my staff.

I had to move quickly; they wouldn't miss Fenris for another two rounds – we were lucky he had taken to the field so early. It gave us a much wider time range to make our escape.

I waited thirty seconds, counting by the beats of my heart.

Wait.

Give him time.

All of this doesn't mean anything if I trap him in here with them.

The scent of heat and sweat were thick in the air, swirling around my head like a troupe of flies. I gripped my staff, holding onto it as if it were a safety net, praying to the Maker that all would go as planned.

Now or never, I thought, lifting my staff over my head and summoning all of the energy I had within me.

With a sharp bellow, I twirled my staff and slammed it to the stone, channeling my magic into the coliseum itself. I poured all of my power, my entire essence into this one spell, gritting my teeth, hearing the snap-hiss of power as it surged around the brim of the stadium, locking over all of the spectators within the kinetic barrier.

A loud keening whine filled my ears, and after the black spots faded from my vision, I realized it was me; I ceased the noise immediately, panting and sweating, leaning heavily onto my staff as I fed my magic into the new barrier around the stadium.

Nothing goes in, and nothing comes out.

A steady, low thrumming hum danced around the edge of my hearing. My legs trembled and my nose bled; a shaking hand trailed into my robe and removed the lyrium potion, downing it in one swallow – but it didn't help, my vision spotted black and my temples pounded and I wheezed, feeling more energy drain out of me by the second.

Need to hurry.

My walls didn't go unnoticed, but none of my captives would be able to break through for at least a half-hour – maybe.

I hoped I could last that long.

Mages raised their own staffs and hands, flinging magic at my walls; I felt each impact as a sharp pinprick in my head and winced at every blow.

I turned, glancing away from the stadium, satisfied with my work – and as I turned, I noticed that Danarius was missing from his spot.

Ohshit

I flung myself over the outside wall, easily breaking through my own barrier to slide down the concrete wall, the soles of my shoes rubbing thin on the stone on the way down – I held out my staff and flung a gale of wind at the ground a second before I would hit it, effectively breaking my fall and allowing me to topple to the ground with a less than graceful impact; my arm wrenched and I hissed in pain as I sorted myself out.

My hands shook as I stood, not bothering to straighten my robes as I tossed my staff aside. A trail of blood slid down the side of my face – the ground had been a harder hit than I anticipated, and the world tilted as I walked.

Nobody on the outside had noticed the barrier yet; a few townspeople that hadn't attended the event went about their business, not even glancing my way.

I almost called for Fenris, but found my voice couldn't make a sound – I coughed, trying to push sound from my throat, wheezing his name with all of my remaining might. I began a stumbling run around the outside edge of the stadium.

Did he get out in time?

Did I wait long enough?

"Fenris! Fenris!" I tried to scream, my words pathetic and screechy without real sound. I panted, my throat feeling as if I had swallowed shards of glass, my heart dropping as I frantically searched for Fenris, my bones shaking and weary from all the strength and mana I had poured into my trump spell.

Hands caught my arms in warm steel. "I'm here," Fenris said out of breath as spun me around. His head still seemed to be bleeding beneath his helmet, and he looked so deathly pale - a drastic color for his usually sunny skin. "Let's move."

People were shouting; I would hardly believe that my frantic wheezes had even been heard above the din of confused, angry people locked inside the arena. I grabbed his hand, winding my fingers tightly through his bare fingers, hoping that he could hold on until we were safely out of the city; his other arm hung uselessly at his side, and I worried for the state of it.

We need a healer. I heard the cries of the people locked in the stadium, bearing sharply into a crescendo in my ears. But no chance of that for the moment.

If only Pana could have come. But there was no time for that kind of regretful thinking; we had to move.

I headed to the portion of the wall where the lone horses were tied; I stealthily pulled Fenris around the lot.

Shit. I didn't plan for us both to be utterly trashed like this. My thoughts were murky as most of my concentration fed into the stadium. We need to be gone now.

The servants who had driven the carts and led the horses were too busy sleeping or chatting to notice us as we ducked in the shadows, limping our way across the area.

I untied a horse and tried to kick myself up – it took a few tries, my limbs were so weak, but I eventually winded up in the saddle. Fenris managed to jump behind me on his first try, though his teeth were clamped together tightly and his face seemed to grow paler.

A few servants had realized that something was wrong; they pounded hard on the giant wooden doors of the entrance to the coliseum, growing curious as to the lack of sound from within.

I squeezed Fenris' hand as his arms winded around me, taking the reins. The horse shifted and whinnied restlessly below us as an alarming boom echoed through the building. I turned my head quickly, my body bowing to the side so I could face Fenris. I kissed him quickly, tasting salt and sweat and blood and lips, and felt infinitely better than I had a few moments ago.

"Let's hurry." Worry laced my voice as I turned and Fenris pushed the horse forward, kicking it immediately into a gallop. Fenris' chest blazed me through the back of my robes; I wiped sweat from my brow and nudged the horse faster, glancing at the sky to check which direction we were headed.

East. It would have to do. We chased the approaching darkness with steady swiftness, leaving Minrathous in the dust trailing behind us.

I grinned into the sky with a thrumming heart, panting with exhaustion and exertion as we finally made our long awaited escape. A real escape, with the wind at our backs and freedom on the horizon.

After about ten minutes of riding, the energy in me sapped out completely; I felt myself fall limply against Fenris' chest moments before I lost consciousness, finally feeling the snap of my control on the coliseum break as I succumbed to the blackness of rest, Fenris' fully functional arm wrapping around me tightly, protectively, holding me against him.

Did you really think these two would make it this far?

I'm in a rush, sorry if some things seem weird - ff changes shit when I'm not looking and I don't always catch what it screws with!