To the Victorious
by Cryptographic DeLurk
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Denerim: Interrogation Room
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They'd sheered Fenris's hair so close to his skull that the razor more than once dug a bloody gash into his scalp. He was self conscious about the rest – the bound hands, the black eye, the split lip leaking drool, the usual sheer white of his lyrium brands. But to his concussed mind, his raw bared scalp was the worst. Nothing to hide his eyes, and nothing to hide his pointed ears either.
The human man they brought him out to sit in front of was strange. Shining yellow-gold armour, and loose leggings, a gruff face, and skin nearly as dark as Fenris's. So far as Fenris could tell, his heraldry did not match those of the Denerim City Guard.
"I see they were not kind to you," the man said. "I apologise I could not convince the Guard to allow me an audience sooner."
Fenris eyed him wearily, through his exhaustion. He had nothing to say.
"They say you slaughtered your way through a crew's worth of hardened seamen," the man continued. "I saw part of it from the inn's landing myself. At one point it was twelve against one, and somehow you are still here."
"They were going to redirect the vessel," Fenris spat. "They targeted their passengers carefully, those with either no one to miss them or no recourse to take. Once out on the open sea, they were going straight to the Imperium. They were slavers." Though of all the things Fenris was angry about, he was most angry for having allowed himself to be drawn into such a struggle. Foolishness and tripe, after everyone he'd cut through to make it here to Ferelden. There was no reason for him not to have kept walking when he passed them on the docks.
"I can see this means a great deal to you," the man said sympathetically.
"Does it not to you?" Fenris demanded. "I had thought this a country above such evils," he said, although he did so falsely. Southerners could be as self righteous and corrupt as any in the Imperium.
"It is not beneath my concern," the man replied. "But I admit I am more interested in your talent as a swordsman… You know there is no proof of your claims."
"They spoke Tevene," Fenris said, which was as good as agreement. "I speak Tevene. I know what I heard. And what they were planning."
"But the fact remains you have no proof of it. If any amount of proof could prevent the detention of an elf who has proven himself both capable and willing to cut his way through a dozen humans."
"You are here to execute me," Fenris stated, unwilling to play this game any longer.
"No," Duncan stated, just as plainly. "I am here to recruit you."
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AN: Heyo! I'm attempting a longfic told in weekly vignettes. Tune in next Thursday. We're going to see how that goes.
I don't think I'll be doing many author's notes in the future save for periodic content warnings, but I encourage you to read the following so you can be aware of what kind of story you're walking into.
Things you should expect from this fic: Fenris as the Hero of Ferelden. Lots of Alistair and Wynne and Sten. Fenris having an embarrassing mutually-unrequited crush on Alistair that goes nowhere. Trans Fenris (although this will be incidental rather than thematic to the story). Eventual Fenris/Isabela, Fenris/Justice, Fenris/Anders. Slowburn Mage Rights or Mage Fights sentiment.
Things you should not expect: Much Morrigan or Zevran. (They are my top favourites in Origins and you have no idea how bummed out I am that Fenris isn't playing nice with them). Fenris making all the 'correct' choices in Origins. Major Character Death – Alistair and Fenris are both making it out of Origins just fine. Much canon divergence for the contents of Origins. (Awakening will deviate a bit more. I'm only covering a tiny bit of DAII but by then the canon plot will probably be mangled beyond recognition.)