Thank you to everyone who has been reading.

Thank you Arquise, Bear Mage, Wicked Lullaby, Spadequeen, Fallon Idalia & Kira Tamarion for your continued support and reviews! =) You guys are the absolute best!

I edited the end of the last chapter a bit, I'm not sure if anyone wants to go back and check it out. Spadequeen pointed out that Astoria's reaction wasn't exactly completely believable, and I totally agreed. If anyone notices things like this please tell me - I focus so hard on making Fenris in character that I think I neglect the others - whoops. That being said, enjoy and thank you for reading!


Fenris and Astoria reached Perivantium a week later and spent one brief and fleeting night in the city's walls. He was eternally grateful for thir quick stay – seeing slaves all about the city and having to cover himself up was enough to make him more than paranoid and nervous. He had been on high alert, even as they shared a small room at the inn and Astoria wrote a letter to Hollan – saying that she would be in Minrathous as soon as possible and would like to meet the woman who knows Lysander's location. She did not say that she knew who the woman was, though in reality, there was no way to know for certain.

They had also met with the leader of the Perivantium branch in a quick and rushed meeting. They learned that the meeting of the magisters would commence in September and last a week or so. The Imperium was going to war with the Qunari over Seheron, they were gathering a full army. This branch of the rebellion was planning several attacks on the estates of magisters that would happen in their absence.

This gave Fenris and Astoria a strict deadline. In order to ensure their safety, they had to make it out of the Tevinter Imperium before the magister's leave their gathering, which is essentially expected to be completed in the middle of September.

This meant that Astoria and Fenris had to make it to Minrathous, find Varania, find Lysander, and raid Valinius' estate in under three months. It would be tight, Fenris knew, but it had to be done. And, he would admit to himself, it was bringing a sense of purpose in his life.

He wasn't just surviving anymore, he was doing something with a goal, with meaning. It was such a new way of thinking.

Eshan, Garsen and their rebellion was likely to be a week behind them, but Astoria left a message for them and continued onwards, eager to get out of the ancient Tevinter city and cross the last stretch of the Silent Plains.

Fenris' memory was filling itself in by itself, to his eternal joy. Since the kiss they shared (one he wanted to reenact but didn't know how to initiate), he had been getting small flashes of his memory. They were tiny, fleeting moments of very little in particular, but he paid rapt attention to each one. At nighttime, he would think about each one, lost in his analytical thoughts as they all replayed endlessly in his mind.

Two women leaning over a flowerbed, giggling and talking to each other. Varania and Astoria each taking turns pointing to different flowers, discussing them. Leto stood a distance away, brushing one of the magister's horses but paying no mind to the task at hand.

Astoria looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. They smiled at each other and she pursed her lips, sending him a kiss. Varania pushed her shoulder, exasperated, and waved to Leto.

"You can't see this, brother," she called to him with humor in her voice as Astoria locked arms with his sister, "You aren't supposed to see the crown until tonight."

Astoria, who was holding a handful of flowers, hid them behind her back and blushed as Leto chuckled and patted the horse's shoulder. "It isn't a crown just yet, Varania."

Varania rolled her eyes and tugged on Astoria's arm, leading her to a flowerbed that wasn't in view of him. Leto chuckled and gave Astoria a small wave as she sent him an adoring glance.

Fenris knew without being told what that memory was. It had to be of their wedding day. He remembered that Astoria wore a crown of flowers in her hair in the drawing of their wedding. She must have been picking the flowers with Varania earlier that day while he worked.

Seeing Varania in this light was unsettling for him. He had come to accept that he had been in love with Astoria at a time in his life, but he found it difficult to see that he had truly cared for Varania. Seeing the two of them acting like best friends, or sisters even, both heartened and bothered him. And if he did see Varania again, and killed her, he wouldn't only be killing his sister but also his wife's best friend.

"Leto, have a seat, lad." Mavion waved across from him at an armchair. The morning light filtered in from behind him and gave him a somewhat divine aura, something Leto imagined was customary of all magisters.

Leto crossed the space in the study, anxiety coursing through him. He lowered himself carefully into the chair, aware of the guards in the room.

"So, Leto," Mavion steepled his fingers, "you have proven yourself skillful in your trainings."

Leto bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Master."

"I think your skills could help both myself and your family. Are you interested?"

It wasn't exactly a question, even though it was worded as such. Mavion chuckled.

"How would a boon of your choosing sound to you?"

That was a memory that came to him in his sleep somewhere between the day they kissed and when they reached Perivantium. He knew what this one was as well – at least Astoria had explained enough of his previous life that he could fill in the blanks. It brought him a little peace, that he could figure some things out himself.

Still, he told her about them anyway. She listened with a gleam in her eye that told him she was just as happy about him getting back his memories.

He began remembering other things too. Tiny fragments – chasing Varania around Mavion's courtyard when they were younger, the embrace of his mother, holding hands with Astoria. They were fleeting, mere glimpses and scenes. As brief as they were, he found himself nearly obsessing over them, trying to coax just a little more from what lay dormant in his mind.

Those three women, he realized, had meant everything to him. On one level it embarrassed him and made him feel vulnerable. He had thought himself to be solitary and completely independent, free from the bondage of close relationships. He had wanted them, of course, before he had met Varania. He had always pursued information about his family. It was his greatest weakness.

On another level he knew he shouldn't be surprised. If he had sacrificed his entire future for them, then of course they had meant a lot to him, of course they were as wonderful as they should have been. It shouldn't have taken him so long to finally come to terms with it and he knew it.


They had left Perivantium two days earlier and had travelled northwest towards the distant tropical forests. Fenris was on high alert. He had found it difficult to sleep, letting Astoria rest as he kept watch overnight. This region of the plains was littered with farms, and the Imperium's guard traveled the Imperial Highway, though he and Astoria were far from sight of the road.

He heard her humming from a short distance where they had decided to camp underneath the branches of a tree – a welcome and rare thing for the Plains. He had felt fatigued and hot, and they decided to escape the scorching heat of the middle of the day. Fenris shut his eyes and tugged his gauntlets off by the fingertips, dropping them to the ground behind him. He rolled his head on his shoulders and tuned in on Astoria's humming,

It sounded familiar to him, like everything she did felt, but he couldn't remember it. It may have been dehydration that triggered the next memory.


The taste of iron spilling from his cheek and tongue, sliding down the back of his throat was all he could taste. Dust filled his nose as he scrambled frantically to his feet, ignoring the searing pain ripping down his back from his shoulder. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and more than anything it was obnoxious.

He didn't know who they were cheering for. Magisters weren't exactly the type to cheer for the underdog. Leto was smaller than the elf he fought, who had clearly been fed better than he had and trained harder than he had.

The man snarled at him like a rabid hound and slammed his sword against his shield, trying to intimidate him. The crowd exploded, clearly in favor of the battle cry.

Leto steadied himself, rolling his injured shoulder as he gripped the handle with his hands. His opponent laughed maniacally – a crazed man, with bulging muscles and all.

This wasn't a fair fight.

Leto knew he couldn't overpower him. No, he had to wait for the man to attack first, if he got lucky, he could find his opportunity. Leto knew he was fast, faster than any opponent he had seen so far that day.

The man let out a roar and the crowd responded with a cheer.

Maker, did he hate them all.

He blinked and he saw them. Varania and Sharna's copper hair shining in the sunlight, smiles on their faces. Astoria with her sky blue eyes framed with her thick lashes, classical features with wild locks of brown hair. She was laughing in his mental picture of her, and it shifted into her asleep beside him on the floor of their dingy apartment, her head rested on his bare, unmarked chest.

Leto took a breath and set his jaw, tightening his fingers around the great sword he was lucky enough to use.

His opponent rushed him. Leto sidestepped and deflected a blow of the man's short sword. He planted one foot in front of the man's leg and to his great luck, the man staggered. It was all Leto had needed.


Fenris curled forward and put his head between his knees, sucking in his breath. His heart was hammering in his chest, the anxiety and stress of the memory spilling over into his current state. He dropped his head in his hands and tried not to pass out.

Astoria was urging her flask in front of him, rubbing his shoulder. "Fenris? Drink some water."

He felt like he was being attacked still, like he remained in the competition. He knew he wasn't in danger, but he couldn't shake the feeling. He thought the crowd was still screaming, could almost still taste the dust and blood in his mouth, he could smell the sweat, feel it beading at the back of his neck.

He grabbed the flask and drank most of its contents in one long, desperate swig. He was sweating.

"Fenris," she purred beside him, her knees dipping under his bent legs as she knelt on the ground. She pushed his hair out of his face and wiped away the sweat on his brow. He kept his eyes pressed shut, his breath ragged.

"Fenris, are you ill?"

He wasn't sure. His throat felt tight, his stomach knotted. He felt the back of Astoria's hand on his brow, measuring his temperature.

"Fenris, lay down." He opened his eyes and raised his left hand, grasping her flask with the other. His fingers closed around her wrist and he gently brought it down into his lap.

"I..." he began to speak but couldn't, it took too much out of him. Astoria tugged on his shoulder, trying to encourage him to lay out under the shade.

"Lay down, Fenris, come on." He shut his eyes again. Astoria peeled his fingers from her wrist and rummaged through her pack. A moment later she pulled on Fenris' shoulders and this time he didn't resist. She eased him down onto a blanket she had rolled up to cushion his head.

"Alright, Fenris, I'm going to take your armor off," she told him gently, flicking the metal on his chest with a slight chuckle. He wanted to smile, he did, but he felt too hot, too exhausted. He felt her fingers working on the straps on his side. He felt the weight of his breastplate lift off of him and a slight groan of relief hit him.

Astoria's soft fingertips grazed over his brow again and rake his silky white hair away from his face. He felt his lips tugging towards a smile at the touch. He mumbled her name but felt a wave of nausea roll into him.

"Fenris, wait here," she leaned close to him. He opened his eyes and saw her brow furrowed in worry. She nudged his right hand where he held the flask. "Drink, Fenris."

Inside, he was panicking. He was useless in this state. He was vulnerable. If they were attacked, there was nothing he could do. He struggled to sit up, but Astoria pushed on his shoulders, all the while talking to him, trying to soothe him.

"No, Fenris, you need to lay down. Relax, I'll be within eyesight, I just need to get you water." He scowled as she pushed him back on the ground. He gathered what little strength he had in him and reached up with his free hand.

He snaked his fingers around the back of her neck, his palm flat against her skin. He didn't know what it was exactly that he was doing, but he felt an urge to pull her to him and kiss her.

"Fenris?" She froze, those icy but beautiful blue eyes wide. He wasn't sure if she feared him in that moment, and that realization hit him even through the haze of delirium.

He dropped his hand immediately, ashamed through his mental fog. Slowly, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Astoria wiped the sweat from his brow again with her fingers.

The last thing he felt before he went under was the gentle feel of her lips against his forehead.