The next morning, Fenris and Ivy packed up and continued their trip. When Fenris asked how long the trip would take, she shrugged cheerfully and stopped whistling long enough to grin at him. "Long as it takes! First, there's a boat near here somewhere. Saw it on my way to find your cranky ass. Then we row across the lake and take Gherlen's Pass. There's a road that shoots off and takes you right to Skyhold. Should be cleaned up well enough now to get there in two days if the weather isn't shite in the mountains. Course, that's if you can keep up old man."
"Vishante Kaffas." Fenris growled at her. She laughed.
"Perite!" She responded with a wink. This silenced Fenris for a moment.
"You...you speak Tevene?" He asked respectfully. She sniggered.
"Mostly the curses and the ass kissing parts. Yes master, no master, that shite." She said, turning to face him and walking backward over the ground.
"You weren't born there. Your accent is atrocious." Fenris observed.
"Thank the bloody maker or creators or our Lady Herald, whoever. No, I was twelve in Denerim during the Blight and Teyrn Loghain..." She sneered his name. "Decided to sell off some elves and fund his civil war. You know how it is, nobody misses a couple of knife ears from the alienage. I heard the Hero of Ferelden came and put a stop to it, but it was too late for me and two dozen other bastards. We were halfway to Tevinter and nobody had time to send a damn rescue party with darkspawn knockin' on the door."
"I'm sorry." Fenris apologized. She stiffened, turning quickly on her heel.
"Don't feel sorry for me." She sniffed. "I got out. Six years later when the Master got handsy, I took my chances. Didn't stop running till I reached Denerim again. If you gotta pity someone, feel bad for all the fucks who can't get out."
Fenris had to admit she had a point. Slowly, her paces shortened and she matched his. Fenris could tell she was staring at him from the corner of her eye. It wasn't something he was unused to, the markings were distinctive, but it still made him uncomfortable. "Can I help you?" He said, turning his own glare to her.
"They talk about you, y'know. It's why Nightingale sent me to deliver that letter from the dwarf. She didn't think I'd be scared of you." Ivy remarked.
"Who talks about me?" Fenris snapped. Ivy, irritatingly, giggled.
"Everyone in Tevinter! The slaves can't believe you killed two Magisters and all the hunters they sent after you. You're almost a myth! And the Magisters absolutely forbid anyone talking about you, of course that doesn't stop anyone, but I did see someone get their tongue ripped out for it once." She exclaimed. "You're as famous in the north as your mage-lady is down here. She's your sidekick in all the stories, the southern apostate swooning helplessly at the heels of the freed slave, love conquering magic, blah blah…" Ivy did a fair impression of a swooning damsel. Hawke would be utterly enjoying this demonstration if she were here.
"You cannot be serious." Fenris stated.
"I am!" Ivy's eyes widened. "Escapes started happening twice as often. Executions too, of course. I don't know if I'd have tried it if I hadn't heard about you."
This hit Fenris profoundly enough to stop him. Luckily, Ivy thought he'd spotted the boat, hidden in brambles and reeds by the shore. Fenris stared after the girl as she slipped down the gentle slope. She'd been eighteen when Kirkwall exploded, so that would make her... twenty-one? A child still, but older than Hawke when she went into the Deep Roads. Fenris was unsure of his own age.
"Do they… say anything about who I was, before?" He asked, hesitant, hopeful, wary. Ivy's eyes flashed up and he saw them full of sympathy.
"No." She answered simply. "You really don't know who you were?"
"I do not." Fenris answered, joining her as she uncovered the boat.
"That's… sad." Ivy said softly.
"Don't pity me." Fenris warned. Ivy's lips twitched upward easily.
"Never dream of it, grandpa. Need help getting in the boat? Can your hip stand it?" She asked, faux sincerity dripping from every syllable.
"I'll have you know I took this wound fighting five templars with no armor." Fenris bristled as they guided the vessel into the lake.
"Only five?" She asked. "I expected better, honestly."
Fenris didn't dignify that with a response, whistling Lucia into the boat before climbing in himself. He hated to admit it, but it felt good to sit. He rubbed his side surreptitiously before the other elf joined him, handing him an oar. There was barely enough room for them, even with Lucia making herself as small as possible. The rowing was hard work, and the sun had decided to appear from behind the clouds. By the time they reached the opposite side, Fenris's arms were twitching with the strain from muscles that had been too long in disuse. They pulled the boat out and hid it just as carefully before climbing up the slope.
"Good place to rest." Ivy said, falling to the grass. Fenris, despite his impatience, didn't fight it.
"Tell me of what has happened. Were you there, at the beginning? When the breach opened?" Fenris asked.
"I was, working for Nightingale. She found me pickpocketing in Denerim, when she found out I'd been in Tevinter she pumped me for everything I knew. Which was quite a lot, to be honest. I was good at eavesdropping. Then she hired me. I'm not particularly religious, but she pays well and she's good to her people." Ivy pulled two shining apples from her pack and handed one to Fenris. When he bit into it, it tasted like spring and juice dribbled down his fingers. "I was there, when it opened. Thought we'd all die, but then she came."
Ivy rubbed the apple against her tunic thoughtfully before taking a bite of it. "I'm not religious… but it was a miracle. She's a damned miracle, Lady Cadash. I know they say she was a criminal and a dwarf, but why does that disqualify her? I know people who saw her walk out of the Fade, they saw Andraste behind her."
"How did they know it was Andraste?" Fenris asked skeptically. Ivy scoffed.
"Well who else would it be? Andraste sent her to close that breach, and she did. Then when Corpyheus…" Fenris interupted quickly.
"Corphyeus? That is the name of the Darkspawn magister?" He asked.
"Yep. Told our Lady Herald himself. Tried to take Andraste's mark from her hand. Then, while we evacuated, she faced him by herself with a damned archdemon about to eat her. She caused an avalanche that buried the red templars and herself. No one could have survived it, but she did. I saw your dwarf friend carrying her up the mountain with her sister cryin' behind her. Thought she was dead at first, but the next day she was up and leadin' us through the mountain." Ivy shook her head, smiling broadly. "I don't know much 'bout Andraste or the Maker, but I know she's special. I'd follow her to the death. Gladly."
Fenris felt a sudden, desperate urgency to get to Hawke. If it was Corypheus… kaffas, then it was their fault. And Hawke was known to carry the whole weight of the world on her shoulders. "And the Venatori?" He asked.
"Tevinter cultists. Trying to restore the glory of the Imperium by setting up Corypheus as a new god." She snorted. "Typical Imperium bullshit. I've told Nightingale I think most of their warriors are slaves, but there's not much you can do about it when you've got their sword at your throat and a mage shooting fire out their ass. There was an infestation of them in Denerim, but we rooted them out. I got to meet the King himself."
"He's a fair man." Fenris said. Ivy rolled her eyes.
"Course, you met him." She complained. "He can still swing a sword at least. Said it was the most fun he'd had in years. Apologized that he'd been unable to come after the elves that had been shipped off during the blight. It doesn't change anything, but it was nice of him."
After their rest, they marched off toward the pass. Much to Fenris's annoyance, Ivy insisted on stopping every time she noticed Fenris slowing, which was entirely more than he wanted to admit. "Venhedis, woman." He exploded as she insisted for stopping for the night right when they arrived at the pass. "Stop coddling me!"
"I'll never forgive myself if I'm the one to get you killed after everything. We'll be there tomorrow, with luck your lady mage will be there to coddle you in a much more satisfying way." Ivy remarked nonchalantly, setting up her bedroll in a spot hidden behind an outcropping. "I will continue without you." Fenris threatened.
"You will get lost and end up in Orzammar, their ale is shite and you know you don't want that." Ivy said. "Listen, I'm in just as much a hurry as you. I got a solider up there I hardly ever get to see runnin' around like I do. But slow is better than dead."
Fenris wanted to retort that slow was as good as dead, but he could tell it would do no good. He stalked off to gather firewood instead, Lucia padding happily at his heels. He returned with an armload of wood, but Ivy was standing ramrod straight, knives in her hands. She looked over her shoulder as he approached and made a shushing gesture. Lucia sank into a crouch and Fenris slowly laid the wood down, unsheathing his blade quietly as he approached. He could hear voices speaking softly, in Tevene.
Fenris peered around the outcropping and saw the mage with the two swordsmen. There was a wicked, dangerous gleam in Ivy's eyes as she listened. Venatori, she mouthed. Spies, Fenris thought, most likely headed for Orzammar or Skyhold itself. They were getting closer, continuing to walk in the dusk. Ivy disappeared from view, going into stealth smoothly. Fenris waited, counting footsteps. Then...a gurgle, a clatter, and Fenris stepped into view long enough to see the Mage collapse into the path of the dust and the two swordsmen turn to the rogue. Before Ivy could move, Fenris was behind them, plunging his sword through the cheap breastplate of the one of the left, then smoothly reaching with his gauntlet for the heart of the one on the right. He clutched but did not crush, not yet. Pain laced up his left side, but bearable, he had endured far worse. It was similar to how the markings had felt at first, when they were new.
"Would you like him alive?" Fenris asked, allowing the one on the left to fall from his blade.
"Oh, Nightingale will love you." Ivy remarked, eyes wide. "Hold on, got some rope somewhere."
Fenris pulled his arm from the man's chest and sent a heavy blow across his skull instead, letting him land squarely in the dust. Ivy was there in an instant, trussing him like a pig. She smirked up at Fenris, the mage's blood still dripping down her cheeks. "Maybe just a short rest, and we'll push on up to Skyhold."
"Suddenly I am not so old." Fenris remarked wryly. The girl giggled.
They made it to Skyhold with their captive shortly after dawn the next day and Fenris felt like collapsing in relief. Hawke was there, somewhere. It had been over a week, the longest he had went without sight of her in years. His heart ached to throw itself at her feet. His mind screamed that they were not through. They crossed the bridge and the portcullis started to rise. A soldier ran out before they were halfway across and Ivy dropped the rope that bound their prisoner, tossing it to Fenris before running forwards and jumping into the waiting arms of the soldier halfway across the gap.
"Maker I've missed you." The lad said, nuzzling his nose into the elven girl's neck. She giggled, pushing him away and nipping lightly at his chin.
"I'm probably gonna get a promotion soon. You're gonna have to salute and everything." She teased, waving behind her. "This is Ser Fenris, you've heard about him, and a Venatori spy we found in the pass."
"Welcome, Serah." The soldier saluted. Fenris didn't know quite what to do, so nodded stiffly in return. Ivy took the prisoner and handed him off to other soldiers as they emerged. "It'll be good to have a warrior of your renown in the Inquisition."
Fenris hadn't meant to join the Inquisition, but he supposed if Hawke had, he may as well. He nodded, trying not to lean his weight from his bad side. "I was told my wife would be here." He said, as diplomatically as possible.
"Ah, your… wife. Serah Hawke? The Champion?" The boy said, nervously. Fenris nodded, curtly. "Congratulations. I had not… I was not aware. Unfortunately, Serah Hawke and the Inquisitor left with a retinue to the Western Approach. Just two days ago. They'll be halfway across Orlais by now."
Fenris was going to scream. Or hit something. He grit his teeth together, turning on his heel. Trust Hawke to make him drag himself across the whole damned continent. He was going to…
"Fenris! Wait!" Ivy shouted, racing to his side. "You can't, you're still not well. And you've been going all night." She argued, putting herself squarely in his way.
"I will be fine." Fenris glared, shoving past her. Ivy sighed and shrugged her shoulders in a gentle rolling motion.
"You could have taken the easy way." She said agreeably, before her elbow lashed out and connected with the wound that had been aching for hours. It wasn't half as hard as she probably could have hit him, but it was enough. The pain was agony and his marks flared, drawing the last of his strength. He lashed out, but she had already danced away. There were now two of her, swimming on the edges of her vision. Then there was nothing.
Fenris awoke what felt like hours later, parched and confused. The bed smelled of clean grass, sugar cookies, Hawke. He knew it as well as he knew anything and his eyes searched desperately for her. Instead, they landed on two men deep in conference. One bowed and went out the door, the other turned to him with a peaceful smile. "Ah, you're awake."
The name took a moment, there was...something different. Maybe it was the hair, or the lack of Templar armor. That scar on his lip was definitely not there before. "Knight Captain." Fenris greeted warily, shifting his weak body upwards. His side shrieked in pain, again, like he'd undone all his week's worth of healing.
"Not anymore. You can call me Commander, if you wish." Cullen said agreeably, sitting down in a chair by the bed. "Maker's breath, what happened to you?"
"Your agent…" Fenris growled. Cullen chuckled softly.
"You're telling me that girl brought one of the fiercest warriors I've ever seen to his knees with an elbow jab all by herself? Maker, I should steal her from Leliana then." Cullen said patiently, leaning back. "Your dog almost got her, by the way." He inclined his head to Lucia on the floor who lifted her head and wagged her tail happily.
"Where is Hawke?" Fenris asked instead. "Or my armor." He added, realizing he was bare from the waist up.
"Your wife, congratulations are in order I hear, left with the Inquisitor and her companions to the Western Approach two days ago. Last I heard, they were somewhere near Verchiel." Cullen answered. "I had one of our physicians take a look at you. That wound seems small to be causing you such problems."
"Not a mage, I hope." Fenris stated. Cullen sighed.
"The mages we have are no healers, none hold a candle to Hawke on her worst days. We can stop bleeding and mend broken bones, but that's it. Most of the healers that were in the circles never bothered to learn combat magic. When the war came, they were among the first to be cut down. I don't know if there are many healers left in southern Thedas at all. You'll have to make do with our surgeons."
"Hawke did all she could." Fenris said. "Have you seen her? Is she well?"
"From a distance. I was under the impression she was studiously avoiding me." Cullen remarked. "She appeared well, tired, but well. I heard she was conning much of the Inquisition out of their coin with inappropriate gambling."
"That does sound like her." Fenris said. "And my armor?"
"That girl you arrived with sent it to be cleaned. Also, I suspect, to keep you from leaving as soon as you woke. She said she feared you pushed yourself too hard to make it here." Cullen replied.
"I was attacked, by templars infected with red lyrium." Fenris explained. "We both were, but Hawke was uninjured. I was not so fortunate. Apparently, these markings near the wound become infected with the red lyrium somehow to cause a grave injury."
"Maker's breath, you're lucky to be alive. We've seen red lyrium infection, it's fatal." Cullen sat back, stunned. "Hawke may be an even greater healer than I thought. I was under the impression that the...other one was the better healer."
"The abomination spent more time on it, yes." Fenris gritted his teeth. "But Hawke's father was a healer. He made sure she learned."
"Regardless, I'd love to know how Hawke did it. Perhaps her technique could save others if we find them in time." Cullen mused, standing. "This is her room, where she slept the night before they left. I figured you would prefer to be placed here as well."
"Thank you." Fenris said stiffly. "I will not be staying long."
Cullen chuckled, shaking his head. "Stay for a few days, get your strength back. We get word from the Inquisitor everyday by raven and we can track them for you. I strongly suspect we'll be sending a larger force after them in a week, perhaps less. If you would like, you'd be welcome to travel with them."
"Why do you suspect that?" Fenris asked. Cullen frowned thoughtfully.
"The man you brought back from the pass. He stated that there is a plan to raise an army in the approach and take Orlais for Corypheus. The Inquisition forces will have to stop it. Hopefully, the Inquisitor can learn more."
"Commander Cullen, news Ser." Another soldier was at the door. Cullen stood, inclining his head in farewell as he left Fenris. Exhausted, Fenris allowed himself to settle back in the bed. Lucia was beside him, sniffing the sheets and pressing her cold nose to his cheek.
"Very close, but not quite." Fenris explained, scratching the dogs head. Then he fell asleep.
He awoke to Lucia's growling, fierce and determined, and Ivy in the doorway with his armor in pieces. "Oh shut it." She told the dog with a roll of her eyes. "Woulda been dead in a week if he left in that condition."
"I should let her attack." Fenris said, keeping his eyes closed. "It is an underhanded thing, to turn on your ally."
"Sorry, Serah, that I wasn't in a hurry to let you kill yourself. Call the mabari off or I'm dumping all your armor here in a heap." Ivy threatened. Fenris whistled softly and Lucia retreated, still placing herself rather protectively between the two elves.
"I'm heading west myself, with a small scouting party. Won't be headin' the whole way to the approach, but I may be able to pass on a letter if you like." Ivy offered as she set his armor neatly down on a chest.
"No." Fenris answered. "A letter isn't sufficient."
"Have it your way." Ivy shrugged. "I know you're angry for me taking you down like a sack of potatoes…"
"Unfairly." Fenris defended. Ivy smirked.
"But it was an honor to meet you." She finished.
Unsure what to do, Fenris sat up slightly, swinging his legs experimentally from the bed. They felt stable enough to support him, and the pain was less when he stood. He offered his hand to the young woman, who took it briskly, shook it once, then turned away.
"May your Maker, the Creators, or your Herald be with you." Fenris said softly. The girl smiled.
"Oh, I think they will be." She answered easily, before vanishing.
Two days later, Fenris was able to make it down the stairs by himself thanks to the overbearing attention of a rather grumpy alchemist and servants who seemed intent on feeding him to death. Two days after that, he felt as well as he did the day he'd left Lake Calenhad. He'd decided to back all his items and leave the next day, assuming he could obtain a mount to make the journey much easier. Cullen interrupted his efforts, letter clutched in hand.
"The Inquisitor has called for the army. We leave at first light tomorrow to Griffon Wing Keep. It'll be a hard march, but I'd appreciate your sword." He said.
"What has happened?" Fenris asked, hands stilled on his packing.
"Blood magic and demons, what else is new." Cullen swore under his breath, storming off. Fenris growled himself, throwing his pack onto the ground in distaste. He stormed to the window, looking out over the chaotic courtyard. Then he moved to the small desk in the room, opening the drawers to search for ink and paper. He should have written before, he cursed himself. Blood magic and demons, and Hawke in the thick of it, with no word from him because of his damned pride. Perhaps the letter could still make it before them on one of Leliana's ravens…
There was paper in the top drawer, letters folded in half. The top one spelled his name in elegant, looped letters. Hawke's handwriting, he knew. He pulled it out, then the others beneath it. One for Merrill, Carver, Isabela, Varric, even Sebastian. Fenris opened the one addressed to him and felt his mouth go dry. He could only read the first sentence, over and over again, trying to make sense of it.
Fenris - if you're reading this, I'm gone and I won't be coming back from the west.