Chapter 37: Possession

When the last of the Gallows disappeared, replaced by a barren expanse in the Fade, the unholy shrieking stopped and Fenris regained his senses. His sword was still at his feet and he scooped it up. His lyrium burned deeply, sharper, more acute than what he remembered feeling in the Fade while dreaming. When his eyes fully focused he saw two mages beneath the red sky, staves outstretched, magic huge and pulsing around them.

Marian. He ran to where she stood. Without shifting from her stance, her eyes caught him when he reached her and she smiled. Everything inside him settled at the sight. He felt the burning ebb and the power in his markings flow. She spoke, sparing him just a brief glance before she fixed her gaze ahead of her again. "The others?" She asked.

He looked around. Off behind them Isabela and the small group of men she was with stood with weapons drawn, looking for an enemy. Further away he saw Varric with the other two elves, Merrill and his sister. He prayed, to the gods and the Maker he didn't believe in, that he wouldn't have to watch his back and protect Marian from those two mages as well.

Aveline and Donnic, with a group of guardsman, were all rushing forward in the directionless space. Everyone was searching, but ready. They had been sucked into the Fade without preamble and yet none of them showed any sign of shock or confusion but instead they prepared themselves to fight. This was the mark of friendship that Marian must value so much in these people. This is why she trusted them."They have all been drawn in as well" he answered her.

"Huh. So much for trying to leave you all behind." She winked at him, as if they had already won the battle.

Fenris brought his sword up and replied to her sharply. "Never do that again."

He moved to step in front of her and though he knew what he would see ahead of him, his body still shivered involuntarily when he found himself face to face with his old master. But that brief visceral reaction was all his body surrendered to, at first.

His gut should have been twisting; his skin should have been crawling at the sight of the past that had haunted him for so long standing before him. But with Marian at his back he felt a calm determination. And more so than the sight of Danarius, Fenris saw just past him in the distance, where a life with her was waiting at the end of this.

He would have charged forward in an attempt to cut down the nightmare of his past with one strike, but Marian put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. Her face was now lined with new concern and she spoke with an urgent and uncharacteristic doubt that fractured a small corner of Fenris's fortitude. "Wait. Be wary." She said almost in a whisper. "There's something...else...here."

Her eyes left Danarius and she looked around furtively, but not seeming quite able to see. She lowered her staff and moved forward, studying Danarius who also had lowered his staff and was walking slowly towards them.

"Ah, my little Fenris. Predictable as always. In the absence of his master my slave will bend to anyone. And I see this is the new mistress you bend for. Quite lovely." At the sound of his former master's voice, the fracture in his will spread and he thought he could almost hear the sound of it cracking. The twisted gut and crawling skin Fenris had been expecting now emerged in force. His fingers around the Qunari sword were going numb with the tightness of his grip. His markings started searing, the lyrium pulling at him again as if the calm of being next to Marian had been abruptly sucked away by the dark void of inevitable defeat. Where was his confidence of a moment ago? Where was his resolve to free himself from these chains once and for all?

Fenris's eyes fell to the ground and he felt Marian's small hand slip off his shoulder. He was suddenly so tired. His chest tightened. It was becoming difficult to breath. It seemed to take a tremendous amount of effort to hold onto his current self when the tortured bindings of his old life were creeping back upon him. When he spoke his voice was soft, unsure. "I never wanted these filthy markings Danarius..." Did he? Another magister in another setting appeared in his mind's eye and he heard Crasta's silky scheming voice in his ears. You won them... He reached and searched but the blackness in his head just wouldn't dissipate and he just couldn't remember...

As always the effort to recall his past only led him, like a dead end, to his first memory of the ritual and pain filled him anew. It sparked in the brands on his skin and threatened to consume him. He struggled to remember anything else. Marian. Her touch. Her scent. Her magic. But again his memory failed him, unable to push past the blaze of pain.

Danarius laughed and the sound pulled Fenris back to the present. He was sickened with himself when he realized his vision was wavering with unshed tears and he had to choke down the sob that rose up in his throat. His body betrayed him, so easily subdued.

Danarius spoke again. "Oh, how little you know, my pet. Your true Master is here to reclaim you and things will be well again soon. I can erase the pain of these long years without me."

Erase? Fenris was in no position to even try to understand the terrifying implications of that statement but even so, it filled him with cold dread. Could he be made to forget again? Everything seemed so uncertain. Certainty. Was there anything he was certain about anymore?

A formless energy shifted behind him, a wave that rose and then rushed out past him. He grunted and had to step back to steady himself, knocked off balance by the force of it. It was Marian. He looked up to catch Danarius, wide eyed with shock, bring his staff up in defense against Marian's magic. The magister staggered backwards and his face contorted in anger.

Marian. He was certain about Marian. Certain he loved her. Certain she loved him. The feeling of that simple acknowledgement in his heart was enough to push back the anguish that was overtaking him. Rage formed around the tender emotion and it felt good. He would fight. He had to fight. He would not lose her and he would not allow Danarius to take him from her. He would not forget her. He could not. He must not.

Fenris felt something dark shrivel and fall away from him. A fog, a haze clearing. He blinked and he saw the markings in his arm brighten where Marian's hand now rested. The brightness, both of sight and sensation moved all along the lines of his lyrium. His chest relaxed and he could breathe again. Her magic was cool along his heated skin and he felt joined to her through that simple soothing touch.

Her fingers flexed around his arm and he felt the iron of her will break through Danarius's foul machinations. Marian's voice was loud and filled up the vast emptiness of the Fade. "How dare you!" Her magic was boiling beside him and Fenris's breathe quickened. He smiled. A crazed and hopeful, grim smile. Feeling returned to his fingers and the weight of his sword was wonderful in his hands.

Marian started shouting at Danarius, beautifully defiant. "Do you have any magic of your own, you miserable demon?" Her hand left his arm and he felt her draw more energy into it. "I will not have his magic used against us any longer!"

She pushed out again and the other magister was hit but staggered less, recovered more quickly and he stared down at the pair opposing him. Danarius surrounded himself with the black waves of magic that Fenris knew actually did belong to his old master, because it had once filled Fenris's days with fear. He spoke low and threatening. "What shall it be Fenris? Will you throw your life away?"

Fenris closed his eyes. Throw his life away? Which life? He had lived a life hunted, on the run. He had lived a life cursed, as a slave. And before that, there was a life he had forgotten. He would gladly throw away all of them for the only life that now mattered. His life with Marian.

His reply started as a roar in his mouth and he could barely contain the undeniable truth of it, but he managed to form his lips around the words so they would be understood.

"You are no longer my master!" He shouted it out making sure every creature on both sides of the crumbled Veil heard him. The weight of years lifted off his shoulders. And though the he knew the fight had yet to even begin, if Varric had asked him in that moment, he would have taken the bet that they would win.

Fenris crouched and pulled up his sword. He readied himself to attack and Marian beside him did the same.

Danarius, however, slowly turned his back to them and started walking away. They shouldn't have been able to hear him when he spoke, but his voice carried over to them nonetheless. "You disappoint me, my little wolf..."

As Danarius moved into the distance, Fenris was about to chase him down but then he suddenly became aware of a change in the magic permeating the heavy air of the Fade. It wasn't long after that he saw the 'something else' Marian had originally felt moving towards them.

They materialized out of nothing and became solid as they marched forward. Fenris's breath left his body as if he had been struck. He heard Marian curse out loud.

With his freedom so close, his vengeance tangible as it had never been before, Fenris wouldn't have hesitated to fight through any army to kill Danarius. But this...this gave him pause.

xxxx

"Fucking void..." Hawke swore. She heard Fenris gasp, unable to find words. Fast approaching them was the army the vile maleficar had built for himself. Dozens of figures moving without a sound, drawn into the Fade by Danarius, just as Hawke had drawn her companions in with her.

Even at a distance Hawke saw the dead emptiness in their eyes. These mages, all the mages he had acquired, were now and forever bereft of their magic, silent and tranquil. The spark inside them stolen, usurped, and in its place they wore the markings of their servitude.

They knew enough of Danarius's plans to infer what he had been doing, but knowing and seeing are very different things. Fenris found his voice. It was cracked and dry with disbelief. "They're all...like me..."

But they weren't. Hawke's eyes traced the lyrium on the once-mages that were coming closer. The lines were jagged, rough and disordered. No two individuals shared the same pattern. Gone was the elegance and graceful symmetry of the markings she knew so well on her Fenris. And where Fenris's lyrium moved and shifted, bright and alive within him, she knew without even having to touch these hollow automatons that theirs was static. They were deadly husks, nothing more.

Hawke and Fenris had been unconsciously moving closer to one another and now their bodies touched, back to back as the hoard surrounded them. She breathed in and out. Her magic felt full and free and she had never felt more grateful for it in all her life. She let it envelop her and her elf.

With the last moment they had before the battle was on them, Hawke turned and embraced Fenris awkwardly from behind. "No Fenris, they're not like you at all, love. They belong to Danarius. You belong to me."