It always felt odd to him being in Hawke's estate when she wasn't there. He was comfortable to come and go as he pleased, but sitting in her living room alone was a bit disquieting. The servants had left for the afternoon to run errands, Arielle was with Anders, and Hawke was currently visiting the King. He knew why he wasn't asked to come along; they hadn't really spoken since she learned of his involvement with Arielle. That and he was quite certain Hawke had arranged it like this for him to have some time alone with his sister. Even if she was angry or upset with him, Fenris knew Hawke was still trying to look out for him.
He and Varania had spent lunch discussing her life, touching on very little of his past. He had more of a desire to know she was doing alright regardless of their past, and had asked endless questions about her life in Qarinus. She seemed happy, settled in a good job and making a name for herself in the city with her tailoring skills. Fenris decided on mostly neutral questions, waiting for a more opportune time to get into the past he had so many questions about. What was a few more hours compared to the years he had visited darkness?
He had also informed his sister that he wanted her to leave Kirkwall. Even though she had just arrived and he needed so much from her right now, he couldn't risk anything happening to her. It seemed every hour brought more news of trouble brewing for him and his friends, and he would never forgive himself if she was caught in the middle. Varania protested this request adamantly, but realized Fenris would have it no other way.
She joined him in front of the fire after her use of Hawke's bath. She settled on the couch beside him, enjoying the warmth of the fire as well as his closeness. "I still feel this is a dream I will wake up from," she said to him. "I wish the trip wasn't cut so short."
Fenris nodded. "Me as well," he said sincerely. "As soon as I am able to, I will make arrangements to come to Qarinus, and will give you all the time you require to get reacquainted."
Varania smiled softly. "I may not let you leave," she joked honestly. "I know you don't remember, but you and I used to be closer than any siblings we knew. Others would bicker or not even speak at all, and we used to wonder how something like that could happen."
"I wish I could recall that time," Fenris sighed. "I have felt alone for many years."
She placed a hand on his knee, "you aren't anymore. Now we are both in the position to fight and keep our freedoms, we should not let anyone threaten that again."
Fenris nodded. "You have my word."
Questions flooded his mind; he wanted to know everything he had lost, everything that was taken from him. There seemed no natural place to start and he wondered what she would want to speak of without feeling uncomfortable. Varania saw the struggle in his eyes; though he may have no memory of her, she still knew him even now. "If we only have today Leto, I suggest we not waste time. You wish to know of your past, so tell me where to begin."
That was the question wasn't it, just where to begin. "There is so much…" he tried, with wanting to know his life, her life, their parents, Arielle…it overwhelmed him. Who was he? Who was this Leto to have such a loyal sister, and such a tragic end?
Varania sat back and looked into the fire, gently squeezing his knee before pulling her hand away and placing it back in her lap. "Our parents were very close from what I can remember," she began, taking the choice away from him and offering him a beginning. "Father had black hair like yours used to be, and Mothers was as red as mine. Most of your features came from Father, and his attitude which included your stubbornness."
"I was stubborn even then," he noted. "That has not changed."
Varania smiled. "You and he would disagree on everything when you were younger, but he would always let you make your mistakes so you would learn from them." She delved into the part of his family that she knew he may have some difficulty with. "Father was a mage," she informed him, "he took an apprenticeship under Magister Caladrius and Mother offered herself as a slave so they could be together."
"Why would she do such a thing," Fenris questioned.
"Because she loved him," Varania answered as if it were obvious. "It was far easier for elves to offer themselves as slaves rather than wait and be traded, or worse killed. I don't know how they met though," she said sadly, "I wish now I would've asked her."
Fenris felt guilty for having Varania bring up difficult memories, but knew there would probably be many more to come. "This Caladrius was good to us then?"
Varania shrugged. "We never minded him and he tolerated us. Even after Father died he kept Mother on and allowed us to stay."
"You did not become his apprentice then," Fenris asked, finally acknowledging that his own sister was a mage. "Would he not have taken you on eventually as well?"
"I wanted no part in that world," Varania admitted. "We saw enough from Caladrius what the mages were like in Tevinter. Too often we turned a blind eye to the blood magic he was into, as well as the others he associated with. As his slaves we could do nothing about it, but as a mage I kept my power hidden so it couldn't be exploited." Guilt flashed across her face when she told him, "I hadn't used magic in years until yesterday."
Fenris was surprised his sister had such restraint. To be a mage in a city where it is such a source of power and prestige, any weaker person would've done whatever necessary to leave the life of a slave and become an apprentice, and then someday a magister. "How did he die," Fenris wondered about their father.
"We were very young when he died," Varania answered. "At the time Mother told us he died protecting Caladrius in their travels. It wasn't until after you were gone that Mother admitted he was killed for not turning to blood magic." She seemed lost in the memory for a moment, and Fenris waited patiently for her to continue. "He warned Mother it may happen, and wanted her to leave Caladrius if given the chance. But she had us by then and nowhere else to go, so she remained until you won our freedom."
"I can not imagine how difficult it was for her to remain, serving the man responsible for killing her husband." Fenris felt his anger surfacing at the hardship his family had endured, and hated himself for not doing something to help them sooner. "Certainly we tried to leave before that, didn't we?"
"We were very young Leto, there isn't much we could've done. It wasn't as bad a life as you may think back then; we often were left alone to live our lives as we wished, wander the city in safety, play our silly games in the courtyard. Caladrius spent a lot of time traveling and was rarely in the city; I think he only kept us to be certain his house was taken care of while he was away. We didn't have it nearly as bad as some others Mother associated with." Varania shook her head, "and the older you got, the more trouble you were," she said as she laughed.
He raised an eyebrow at the statement. "How so?"
"You never seemed to realize you were an elf in a city of humans, or a slave in a city of nobility. On trips to the marketplace where we were supposed to help Mother carry groceries, you would take off to look at swords and armor, or fight with other boys in the square." Varania's face darkened a bit. "It's how you met Vasilia as well."
~*~ ._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._. ~*~
He watched the fight intently from the corridor of the arena. In a city where elves were commonly nothing more than slaves, he was not permitted to sit in the audience. That was fine with him however, as he had the best seat in the house. The smell of sweat and blood permeated the hall a champion would run into, or a body would be dragged through.
The fight lasted longer than the others that day, but he had little interest in who would win or lose. He focused intently on their moves; the powerful blades they held performing dances led by their wielders. Every stance, every defensive move, countless striking blows and thought out maneuvers would lead one of them to victory. And he intended to know them all.
So engrossed in the battle before him, the clanging of metal and grunts of exhaustion, he was unaware of the young woman who had entered the tunnel behind him. It wasn't until she spoke that he was caught off guard, turning so fast he almost lost his balance. "I didn't know elves were allowed down here," she said as she passed by him, moving closer to the action herself. "Though I can see why you would be here. You have an amazing view."
He stood there in silence, running through several excuses in his head to get him out of this one. Her fine dress and sweet scent could only mean nobility, and he knew he was in serious trouble. If he was caught again…
"Your secret is safe with me," she said as if reading his mind. Cheers came from above them, the thunderous applause echoing in the space beneath, and he turned back towards the arena to see a fighter had lost his life. The winner headed towards the opposite gate to the arena, which meant the guards would be coming to retrieve the poor losers corpse.
He meant to flee at that moment, but the sound of plated armor and footsteps became louder and more threatening as two guards rounded the corner. The woman didn't move, he noted, but she was permitted to be there and he was not. He had half a mind to go running through the arena, until he remembered it was full of people awaiting the next fight. Easier to run from two than a hundred he thought, so he remained in fear.
"You there, elf!" one of the guards called out. "You don't belong down here," he said as he came closer.
He was prepared, feet at the ready, to run right passed them as soon as they got close enough. But the mysterious woman with long dark hair spoke yet again. "He's with me," she said offhandedly as she turned to face the guards.
They quickly bowed to her, apologizing profusely for threatening her property. "Mistress, my apologies," the guard said without making eye contact. "I almost didn't recognize you in the darkness down here."
A wave of her hand dismissed them and their blubbering. "It's quite alright. Return to your duty so the next fight can begin. We don't want to keep them waiting," she said, winking at the elf.
He stood his ground as the guards walked between them, retrieved the body and then went back to wherever they came from. Before he could speak another fighter came down the hall, looking nervously at both of them as he entered the arena. Clearly his lack of confidence would end his fight early.
The woman watched the fight briefly with him in silence until the first heavy blow was landed. She cringed at the violence and spray of blood, and turned to leave. "They shouldn't bother you again today," she said to him, referring to the guards, "but you may want to find a better hiding spot tomorrow."
And as she walked down the dark tunnel away from him, he found himself calling out to her. "Wait," he shouted, "who are you?"
She looked back at him with her piercing blue eyes and shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she replied, a somewhat sad expression on her face. "Take care of yourself."
Her pace quickened as she retreated and he watched her go, wondering who it was that had shown him such kindness.
~*~ ._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._. ~*~
"I was furious with you when you told me," Varania admitted. "Sneaking into the arena could've cost Mother her job and us to be sold. But you didn't seem to care, you just went on and on about how she was most beautiful person you had ever seen."
He searched the darkness for any recollection, any vision of what she had just told him. He closed his eyes and pictured it as best he could; the way she may have moved, or those eyes looking upon him not as a slave, but as any other person. "Vanilla," he said opening his eyes. "Vanilla and honey."
Varania turned to him. "You remember?" she hoped. "She bathed in it often; it's the first thing I noticed when I met her."
He held on to the memory of the scent, recalling nothing else. But it was enough that it was there, that he could almost smell it now, and that ignited a desire in him to know more. "If I did not know who she was, how did we find each other again?"
"It was a while before you saw her again," Varania filled him in. "But you obsessed over her for weeks. Every time we went into the city you would look for her, and it got to the point Mother and I assumed it was all a dream and you made her up, that she didn't even exist. I remember I teased you about it relentlessly."
Fenris smiled. "We were close then, weren't we."
Varania nodded. "You shared everything with Mother and I, and this was no different. For a time we wondered if you would ever be interested in anything other than fighting. But we also tried to discourage you from searching for her, assuming that if she was someone of importance, you were headed for heartbreak."
"Perhaps I should have headed your warnings," Fenris stated, considering everything that had happened since. How different would life have been had he never pursued the woman in the arena tunnel? Would they have remained in the service of Caladrius? Would he eventually have fought for their freedom some other way, or finally given his family the strength to leave on their own?
"You would not be here," Varania reminded him. "Though we haven't shared like we used to, it's obvious you care for Hawke. No matter the difficulty of the paths we have traveled, they've lead us to today. Do not trouble yourself with a past you can not change Leto."
He knew her words were true, but they were not easy to follow. "How often did I follow your advice back then?"
Varania laughed. "Not often, but as I said you were stubborn. You were driven and determined, and Mother and I should've known then you would not only find this girl, but eventually fall in love with her."
"Had there been no one before her," Fenris was curious.
"She was your first, if that is what you are asking," Varania said slightly embarrassed. "Except for a small crush on a neighbor a few years earlier which was your first kiss, Vasilia was your first in everything else."
A memory itched at the back of his mind of a conversation he had with Vasilia about this very topic. "I remember," he thought out loud, "that first kiss…"
~*~ ._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._. ~*~
He spotted her in the market that day and immediately his palms were sweaty with nerves. She wore a beautiful blue and black dress that clung to the curves of her body, leaving little to his imagination. She was alone as far as he could see, moving gracefully from each stall without making a single purchase. She seemed to be enjoying looking more than anything; touching different fabrics or admiring glass figurines. The merchants all showed their respect by a bow or a kiss on the hand, and he was surprised she seemed more annoyed by it than flattered.
Eventually she moved away from the stalls and wandered to a farmer set against the wall selling livestock. He gathered his courage and moved towards her, the smell of animals tickling his senses. He hadn't thought of what he was going to say when he got to her, causing a bit of an awkward moment when she turned and looked straight at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, when suddenly they were both distracted by the rhythmic stomping of soldiers entering the square. The woman grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him into an alley, his body forced to be pressed against hers due to the lack of space. "He mustn't see me," she whispered, and he repositioned himself protectively to conceal her.
The beating of footsteps stopped dangerously close to them, and he could hear the farmer merchant call out. "Greetings Master Danarius, might you have need of stock today?"
"Take it all," he heard the harsh brittle voice reply, followed by a clink of a coin purse hitting the ground. Squawking and other various animal noises followed as the soldiers gathered the merchandise. Within seconds the march picked up again, the men leaving with the animals and the farmer going home happy.
"Sorry if I startled you," the woman said to him, her face still only inches away from his. "If he found me out in the market again I'd be in some serious trouble."
He hardly heard a word she had said, the sweet scent of her consuming him and the closeness of their bodies igniting a new heat within him. Her eyes looked at him with a sweet innocence that he couldn't pull away from. "Who are you," he asked again from their first meeting, needing an answer desperately.
"My name is Vasilia, and if you make any comment about the history of my name I shall stomp my shoe on your bare foot," she said as her eyes narrowed at him.
He had to laugh at her sudden attempt at threats. "I will comment on its beauty and nothing more," he said as charmingly as he could without feeling foolish. Her smile was his reward, and he made no effort to remove himself from the tight space. Her lips curled in such a way that he wanted to taste them, and he nearly did so until they parted to speak.
"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name as well," she whispered, feeling her own cheeks flush under the scrutiny of his emerald green eyes.
"Leto," he said nervously, somewhat ashamed at the sound of it compared to hers. Yet when she repeated it back to him, he knew he wanted nothing more than for her to say it a hundred times.
"Leto," her body shifted against his, her chest rising and falling heavily, "tell me something. Have you ever kissed a woman?"
The question surprised him, and his face warmed under the changing colors. "I have," he admitted with slight arrogance. He didn't know why she had asked and thought she may have meant to mock him in some way. She was human, and he an elf, a realization that suddenly pained his heart. He assumed that being not only slave, but an elf as well, would give him no chance with someone like her.
He soon realized she wasn't asking to appear better than him or make fun of him. "I have never kissed anyone before. What was it like?"
It was nothing like he was imagining now in his mind, staring at the curves of her mouth, but he answered her question as honestly as he could. "We were young and foolish," he told her as he moved his hand over her shoulder to press against the wall she was leaning on. He wondered if she was feeling the space grow smaller as well. "I put my lips to hers and did not move for several seconds. When we pulled away, I wondered what all the fuss was about." He moved his other arm into a similar position above her other shoulder, courage rising when she made no effort to escape him. "I was told later by my sister that I had done it wrong if I felt nothing."
Her lips curled upwards again in that sweet innocent smile that he wanted to dive right into. "So it wasn't everything you thought it would be," her soft voice called to him with a desire he had never known. "It wasn't as romantic as a kiss might be in, say, a position such as this?"
A muffled groan caught in his throat as he felt his groin respond to her words. In that moment he ignored all the reasons he shouldn't, the voice of his sister in his head telling him how wrong it was, and he gathered all the strength and courage he could find within himself. He brought his lips to hers and pressed firmly against her, feeling her fingers travel down his biceps that still kept her from escaping.
What happened next was beyond anything he had ever felt or known. Her lips parted under his and he felt her tongue sweep across his lower lip. The new sensation surprised him as she then repeated the movement with his upper lip, and finally pushed her way into his mouth. Her tongue found his with ease, long deliberate strokes brushing against his own, her grip on his biceps strengthening.
He followed her lead, his tongue coming alive against hers, and he explored her mouth in an entirely new way. She would pull away to nibble at his lower lip with her teeth, and he would repeat the same. She was teaching him, he realized, without making him feel like a fool, and now he finally knew what a real kiss was like.
His fingers tangled themselves in her long dark hair, and every soft moan she released against his lips made him painfully aware of their closeness. He had no doubt she could feel his length against her leg as she pressed against him, and sudden embarrassment threatened to ruin the moment. He feared the worst when her hands left his arms, but then a gentle touch to both of his ears was his undoing. As she caressed them to their points and back down again, he knew he had lost control as he bucked against her involuntarily, moaning at his own release. He pulled away from her as quickly as he could, and ran from the alley.
~*~ ._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._. ~*~
"What is it," Varania seemed concern at the sudden flush across his cheeks. He groaned painfully at the embarrassing memory, wondering just what wicked tricks his mind was trying to play on him. "What did you remember," she prompted again at his silence.
"A conversation," he admitted to her, "I remember discussing my first kiss with someone else."
"Oh," Varania gasped as she turned almost as red as he was.
He furrowed his brows as he saw her expression change. "You knew?"
She couldn't help the soft giggle as she nodded. "You were mortified," she recalled. "You wouldn't go to the market for a week after that incident. You barely ate and wouldn't speak to me or Mother; you just hid in your room brooding."
He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. "My brooding apparently has not changed as well," he joked. "But I can not believe I would have discussed such a thing with you," he admitted.
Varania tried to stifle her continued laughter. "The most embarrassing moment of your life? I'd be hurt if you hadn't," she stated. "In truth I annoyed you until you finally caved and told me, and then you wanted to know what I thought you should do about it."
"And what did you say," he asked, curious as to her response.
"I told you to pretend it never happened, and if she was any kind of woman with a heart she would never bring it up." Varania thought for a moment. "And she never did."