Chapter 52: Perfection

For the first time ever, Marian had risen before Fenris. Morning sunlight was already spilling into the room when he woke. He looked down the length of his arm outstretched on the bed and found that she was no longer lying on top of it. He was, however, still holding the bloodstained silk ribbon. He dressed quickly, eager to see what could have drawn her from his side. Without really thinking about it, he absently tied the silk to his wrist and hurried downstairs.

He found her in the library, looking more bright eyed than he would have expected after the previous day. She was huddled over stacks of ledgers with the timid looking elf who had been Danarius's, now his, steward.

"Good Morning, love!" Marian called out to him jovially when he entered the room. The elf next to her straightened and backed away, seemingly not sure how to greet Fenris. He settled on bowing his head and stuttering out, "G...Good Morning, Master."

Fenris was glad when Marian corrected the man first. "Oh, come come." She said as she waved the demonstrative away with her hand. "I know the others already told you how we do things here. There are no slaves in this house no matter what these silly ledgers say."

"Y..yes, Mistress." The elf replied looking between her and Fenris with uncertainty.

"Hawke. Remember?" Marian said.

"Y...yes, Mistress Hawke."

"Close enough for now, dear." She soothed the man. Fenris realized he would be relying heavily on Marian's assistance in dealing with Danarius's slaves. His slaves, he thought with disgust. Just thinking about them made his skin itch along the lines of lyrium with nervous discomfort. It was discomfiting that he, a liberati himself, owed slaves at all and it was even more discomfiting that some of those slaves knew him when he was a slave. He wanted nothing more than for all of them to be gone. Their presence was a minefield of moral ambiguity bordering dangerously close to hypocrisy. For all these people knew, Fenris was just another corrupt mage now, having escaped from bondage only so he could claw his way up from the gutter, aspiring to count himself among the ranks of the Magisters.

But Marian would never let him cast these people out just to assuage his insecurity, nor would he want to subject them to that fate. He would have to find his footing around them, if they would let him. Just one more thing to learn, he supposed. He felt better, more full, for all the new things he'd learned up to this point, so perhaps navigating this as well would prove as rewarding in the end.

"It's about time you woke up, by the way. We have much to do, you know." Fenris found it not a little amusing that he was being scolded for sloth when he couldn't recall Marian ever being this functional upon awakening in the mornings. "Now," She continued. "You didn't quite have time to get his name when you were razing his previous home to the ground, but this is Dareth. He's your steward. He and his brother Moran were the only other mages Danarius had on the estate. As far as I can tell, Dareth's magic lies in being able to manage these books without falling asleep." Marian stuck out her tongue at the pile. Dareth brought his hand up to his mouth to hide a hesitant smile. "Moran has some skill in herbalism, so he'll be working with Merrill to start crafting us a supply of the necessities."

Marian seemed to be going down a list she had in her head. He thought she looked quite beautiful when she took charge of things like this, so he was happy to admire without speaking. "I've dispatched your sister to start building protective wards around the mansion. It never hurts to fortify one's position."

Fenris decided to sit. He folded his arms. She could be at this for a while. "With your permission," she said mockingly, rolling her eyes, "I'd like to have Dareth go and request us an urgent audience with Antonius. There's no end to the things we need to discuss with him, so best start as soon as possible. I'll be damned if I wait around for him to summon us again, like we're jesters in some Orlesian court. And while Dareth is out, he said that if he takes with him a signed and sealed letter from each of us to the Courts, he can make arrangements for emancipation petitions for all the slaves here. Apparently it will take time to get us a hearing with a judge, but that's to be expected. Government does tend to move at the pace of a lame nug."

"I have no seal." He replied simply, still somewhat amused by her myriad planning.

"You'll use mine for now. You're supposedly my apprentice, so it should be acceptable."

Fenris felt an odd swelling in his chest. It was a strange yet pleasing sensation. In all the ways that Marian had accepted him into her life already, the thought that she would so easily absorb him, an elf, a former slave, under her family's crest for the whole city to know was both staggering and humbling.

"Speaking of being my apprentice, it is high time I started training you like one." She put a hand on her hip and pointed at him with the other. "You're going to eat something quickly and then we're going into the garden and you're going to learn how to use your magic effectively if it kills me. And given your propensities in that regard, it might." She let both her arms fall to her side, making her look somewhat deflated. "I wish we had more time to ease you into this, but the Archon seems to have other plans."

"And Fenris," she tilted her head and asked, "why are you wearing my hair ribbon on your wrist?" She turned her nose up at the sight of the red blood saturated silk wrapped tightly around his wrist, its ends tucked in neatly. "It's filthy. And covered in blood. And probably sweat."

He looked down at it. He liked seeing it there. He brushed it with his fingers and magic tingled off of it at his touch and it soothed the lines of lyrium beneath it. It felt like the healing spell Marian taught him last night. He wasn't entirely sure why he had tied it on when he dressed and he had to admit its appearance was slightly gruesome, but still, he liked it. It reminded him of her, her magic, her riding on top of him, her healing him in more ways than one. "I care not about its appearance. I like the feel of it. And its smell. It smells like you."

Marian's nose turned up more. "Men. You're like Mabari. Honestly. It 'smells like' me?" She stepped over to where he sat, not at all embarrassed by the presence of someone else in the room. She leaned into him and rubbed her nose against his. "Why don't you just smell me."

She laughed when he pushed her away. "You are ridiculous." He said with embarrassment, burning red when he saw Dareth shifting uncomfortably trying to look everywhere but at the couple.

Fenris rose and went over to the desk. Taking a piece of bare parchment and a quill, he slowly and carefully penned a letter to the Judges requesting emancipation petitions for the slaves in his possession. Marian sat and wrote one as well, finishing much more quickly than he did. When he was satisfied his elementary script would not embarrass him further, he signed and sealed the document and handed it to his steward.

"You served Danarius long enough, I assume, that I do not need to remind you that silence is a virtue." There was an order in Fenris's statement to his soon to be freed slave. Enough gossip would be circulating about him and Marian after last night. Of course people would eventually find out they were freeing their slaves, but there was no need to hurry along the release of that information.

"Oh, of course, Master!" Dareth replied as he took the letter. "I wouldn't dream of speaking to anyone."

"Fenris. Call me Fenris."

"Of course, Sir. I will. And..." The man nervously turned the letters about in his hands. "Thank you." He bowed his head to Fenris again and then left to carry out his appointed tasks.

Marian watched the other elf leave. When they were alone, she changed a little. The face of a charismatic leader faded allowing a sad sort of anger to emerge. The change was reflected in her voice as well when she spoke. "He told me Danarius only permitted him to learn to read so he could take over his bookkeeping. Apparently the dear departed Magister couldn't trust anyone he wasn't able to control completely."

"That is not uncommon." Fenris said, finding himself not as moved as Marian was by that fact. He wished he wasn't so jaded, so he could share in some of her indignation, understand better the ease with which she cared for others, but that time had long since passed. He knew how to care for her and that was more than enough for him.

Some of her charisma returned with her next statement. "I've asked him to start teaching the other slaves to read. He said that he would."

Another item checked from her list, Fenris thought as the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk, but he said nothing.

She pointed her finger at him again. "Now. You. Food. Then fighting."

He found himself unexpectedly worried by the predatory smile she gave him as he moved to comply.

xxxx

She was already waiting for him outside after he finished his breakfast. Varania was there as well, the two Mabari sitting placidly behind her as she worked on some kind of glyph, presumably to help with protection of hearth and home. The garden here was not nearly as elaborate as that of the Archon's and not nearly as vast as those surrounding Fenris's derelict estate. There was only grass and tall hedges lining the walled perimeter. There was more than enough space for sparring, however, magical or otherwise.

Marian scowled at him as he approached. "What is that?"

"Excuse me?"

"No swords, Fenris."

He bit his tongue and set aside his blade, feeling suddenly less secure. And then the fireball hit him.

Square in the chest, Marian's attack sent him skidding backwards, flat on the ground. Though a bit shocked, he was undamaged. Physically at least. The same could not be said for his pride.

"Too slow." She crooned melodically, smiling all the while.

He leapt to his feet in one motion. He felt her ready another spell and he let his lyrium take over as he had countless times before, but this time something very different happened. His lyrium flared and without having to use his muscles to manifest its power, something just pushed out from inside him; a force of sorts. He blinked at the sensation and when he opened his eyes again, Marian was on the ground.

"Excellent!" She praised him from her back on the grass. She stood and dusted herself off. She clapped her hands together once and winked at him. "Now let's begin."

They went back and forth, dancing with their magic in a strange new way. Marian gave and he took, then gave back, earning more of her praise. She offered nearly constant words of direction, instruction and encouragement. Fenris had been trained to do many things, some easy, some so difficult the memory of them made his body ache inside and out. But no training he had ever experienced had been like this. He felt pushed and tested, yet supported. There was no punishment for failure. There were only firm words of correction and an opportunity to try again. She was guiding him through more than ordering him to follow.

It was...enlightening. All of it. The experience of using his magic, the feeling of it at his fingertips, the interaction with her as his teacher all represented a new level of freedom for him. And the thought that there might be other facets to life and freedom that he had yet to discover, but were out there waiting for him was intoxicating.

His random thoughts had proved distracting and she brushed off a poorly executed attack from him with a frustrated grunt. Fenris rested on his back leg in an open stance breathing heavily and sweating under the midday sun. Marian was postured similarly, a stern expression on her lovely face. He looked around the garden and discovered they had acquired an audience. It seemed like every stray member of their household was huddled in doorways, looking out windows, or gathered outside watching the strange branded elf and the eccentric human magister fighting each other with magic.

"You hesitate when you should act." Marian shouted at him. "If you were holding your sword you would use its momentum to follow through with a blow on instinct. It is the same with magic. You are thinking too much. It holds you back. Now, attack me again!"

He couldn't recall ever having been accused of thinking too much. Everything about combat he remembered being taught involved killing without thought because thought was something left to his masters. Of course he wouldn't let that kind of savagery enter into a sparring match with the woman he loved. If that could be considered thinking too much and holding back, then that was what he was doing.

She must have seen on his face when he came to that conclusion because she smiled and shouted again, "Did you fool yourself into thinking you could harm me if you didn't hold back?" She laughed. "Think again elf."

She attacked him and he found himself on his back again with the force of it. He took a deep breath and stood, slowly this time. She watched him warily. He concentrated on his magic, allowing it to pass through his lyrium. He closed his eyes and felt it rise around him, spreading out in a wave. He imagined it reaching out to attack her. The sunlight, still bright against his closed eyes disappeared, replaced by a thick blackness. He felt Marian stir her magic trying to unseat him again, but he envisioned grabbing hold of it and wrapping it in the darkness he controlled like a weapon.

He held her magic as if in his hands. He held it as he allowed the swirls of entropy to move about him. Disjointed sounds of chaos filled his head and he found the din comforting somehow. Phantom shouts, whipping wind, crashing waves, shattering, breaking sounds of destruction with no source and he controlled them all. He flexed his muscles and it grew louder, he relaxed and it grew softer. He started losing track of exactly how long he stood there exploring his magic and holding Marian's immobile in the darkness when he heard something else sneak through the noise.

fenris...

It was like a whisper in his ear that he felt on his skin more than heard, but it was lost just as quickly as it came in his expanding darkness that was getting too thick to allow the outside world to penetrate.

Fenris...

A bit louder this time, but then swallowed up again.

FENRIS!

It was a shout.

STOP!

A fist shot through the darkness and collided with his jaw, snapping his concentration and dissolving his magic.

On reflex he brought a hand up to his face and he opened his eyes. He looked around. Marian was on the ground holding her fist and gasping for air. A thin line of blood dripped from her nose. He heard the Mabari barking and he saw Varania, eyes wide and bent over, chest heaving for breath. He looked behind him and several of the closest slaves who had gathered to watch the fight were similarly struggling to take in air, being assisted by the slaves who were further away and those inside the mansion, all of whom were now entering the yard.

He cursed viciously and fell to his knees to help Marian. He was appalled. Somehow he had missed the line between 'not holding back' and 'killing everyone'. Whether it was the result of inexperience, his lack of control or the magnifying effects of his lyrium, he had nearly murdered them all. And Marian had to punch him in the face to stop him.

He heard himself sputter out some kind of remorseful noise as he gathered her up from the grass to hold her close and reassure himself she was alive and not permanently damaged from his attack. Her face looked to be contorted in pain. He cursed himself again and spoke her name in a desperate plea for her to respond. He clutched at her arms and was about to start shaking her.

And then he heard her laughing. Her mouth opened wide with it and her eyes squinted and she rolled around in his arms trying to regain her composure.

When she settled, she looked up at him and spoke, eyes bright, smile large. "Perfect."