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Part 13: we're still following the trail of that heated kiss and all the collateral damage. But there will be an unexpected surprise at the end. (Okay, surprises are supposed to be unexpected, it's the nature of it all, for bad or good. But believe me, this one is big.)

Aveline had been pacing her office for the best part of the afternoon. She got consumed with anxiety, restlessly awaiting the arrival of one Tevinter elf. A pressing question kept hovering in her mind: how would Fenris take the severe damage to his mansion? She reprimanded herself because it was a stupid question, a self-answering one at that. She knew bloody well how he would take it: very bad. He presumably would demolish the rest of the premises and pull down the adjacent residences in one fuming go. And what the hell kept him this long?! She almost jumped when Donnic entered with nothing more confronting than a soothing cup of tea.

'I thought you would need this, Captain,' he said ruefully when he noticed her flustered expression.

She forced herself to a reassuring smile although she was painfully aware of her het up state of mind, not to mention her reddened face. Due to both said state and his sudden appearance. 'Indeed I do, Guardsman, thank you.' She had not the least hope he would buy her attempt at being the calm and composed leader of the Guard but she could always try to fool herself.

Carefully Donnic placed the cup on the desk. He straightened his shoulders before he ventured, 'I don't think Fenris will react too strongly, Captain. I consider him a well-thinking person. And he certainly won't take you responsible for what happened.'

Aveline took a deep breath. 'Won't he? I wonder. I mean, I was one of the participants ...' her voice drifted off. Donnic knew nothing about that disgraceful enterprise. She hoped.

'Well,' delicately Donnic cleared his throat, 'I'm certain he won't keep it against you.'

Because, naturally, her second in command knew about the whole shameful business. Damn. Aveline's already flushed face became a shade of crimson. Hastily she changed the subject. 'It's not just Fenris. I'm afraid the nobles will not leave it just like that.'

Donnic grabbed the back of the chair standing in front of the desk, collecting courage. 'Yes, well, about that,' he started a bit nervous, 'I paid de Calignac a little visit. You know, to inform about his, uh, health.'

Aveline cocked a brow. 'His health?' she echoed nonplussed.

The Guardsman coughed awkwardly. 'Well, mostly about his health. As it happens I may have inquired also about his investments in the slave trade.'

Aveline's expression became a seething question mark within a heartbeat. 'His what? Why didn't I know this?!'

Donnic heaved his hands in a pacifying gesture. 'I only just found out myself. I was looking for something incriminating to put against him, to prevent he would run to the Viscount with his complaint about Fenris.'

'You found out very fast,' Aveline grumbled, al her instincts awake and roaring. And making amok. She had a hard time to check her emotions. All of them.

Donnic tried his most charming and overwhelming smile, not half realizing how smashing that smile exactly hit her already overheated brain and hormones. 'I have to confess I asked Varric about it. I already suspected the man of something fishy and I assumed Varric would know – something. I mean, something to, er, silence de Calignac. You must agree the dwarf seems to know everything.'

Grudgingly Aveline silently admitted she did agree.

In the meantime Donnic ploughed on. 'He simply wrote a note of recommendation and directed me to the Merchants Guild, saying, and I quote, "the bloody bastards know more than is good for their immortal souls and besides that they owe me one."' He shot her a lopsided discomfited grin and again heroically soldiered on regardless the punishment that could linger around the corner. 'He was right. It took me less than an hour to obtain the information I needed.' He fell silent and waited for the outburst. When that didn't come he added meekly, 'I hope you're not angry with me?'

But his Captain was still recovering from the impact of that smile; she was far too shaky to get annoyed with something as futile as her lieutenant conferring behind her back with some terrible dwarf or a whole cartload of the short buggers. 'Angry? Why would I be angry with you?' she managed with some effort, 'you just saved me from a nasty noble who could have become an awful pain in the ass! Now I have only one problem left to sort out.' She tried to reciprocate Donnic's hesitant smile and realized at the same moment she must look like a psychopathic idiot. Or a baboon in love. She cleared her throat. 'We can deal with that noble scum later because not one chance in the world I will let him carry on with his unsavoury affairs. But first things first.' She tilted her head and in a flurry of courage she blurted, 'You know what, forget about the tea. Sit down and share a glass of brandy with me. Helps better against the nerves anyway.'

Donnic accepted the glass, keeping in mind what Varric had told him about Aveline, or more specific her apparent feelings for him. He had to find a way to let her know he was interested, more than interested in fact, and according to Varric he shouldn't be too subtle. But barging in like a stampeding bronto and conquering her heart (that already had been conquered if he could believe the dwarf) like a mindless ape pursuing his raw instincts didn't seem like the right method. Even though the dwarf had claimed he would never get the message home in any other way.

'Although, on the other hand,' Varric had suggested after some contemplation, 'you can always fire some poetic love gibberish at her. Despite she claims to despise everything about Orlais she's very fond of that part of Orlesian frivolity.'

Writing or reciting poems seemed in Donnic's eyes an even worse idea than acting like a bronto, mainly because his grasp of something remotely poetic went no further than the lullabies his mother used to sing to him. And putting Aveline to sleep while he was making an attempt at accomplishing, well, more or less the opposite was rather silly.

But, he thought a bit drowsily, sharing a drink was at least a good start.

Varric, in the meantime, was bored to shreds. He and Isabela and Merrill weren't exactly imprisoned but Aveline had made it very clear she would flay the pirate and him alive if they'd had the nerve to leave the Barracks.

'Keep in mind I'm doing you a favour,' the Guard-Captain had growled, 'by keeping you in here I'm protecting you from Fenris. I'm quite positive he will do the flaying for me if he gets the chance. And the first thing he will do is run to the Hanged Man to get your hides.'

'A nice ship would have done the trick,' Isabela had mumbled but she had resigned to her fate. A fate that had become less bleak after Donnic had brought them a bottle of rum.

Varric appreciated they were still slightly off balance because of the blast they had caused. Frankly he personally fell off balance because of everything that had happened of late, starting with that completely unexpected astonishing kiss they had witnessed. And ending with not only that blast but, to be honest, with those unsettling feelings of guilt he had been forced to cope with. He could still feel the eyes of Hawke drilling holes in his confidence. And even now he knew she had been playing a role, the role of her life to be frank, and yes he had completely fallen for it, he thus knew he had been playing with fire. He should have known Fenris was an outburst waiting to happen and the brittle love between his heroine and her lover could have busted just like that. Because they both were so vulnerable. And he had made it even worse with the bet he had suggested. The bursting into his suite had made him saw clearly he had been toying with fate. Even worse, with the fate of two other persons. Knowing Fenris, all right, the part of Fenris he knew for sure, that part that had given him the idea he was some kind of dark prince trying to conquer the princes of light – he interrupted his own thoughts at this moment. What the hell had he been thinking? This was notone of his stories, not even one of the romances like that terrible Swords and Shields that was starting to get away with him. He shuddered inwardly. Daisy had been right all along. No-one knew Fenris. Except Hawke probably.

Running around Kirkwall, the Wounded Coast and Sundermount while killing cutthroats, blood mages, demons, Qunari and even dragons paled into insignificance compared to what they had done and what had been done to them over the past weeks. He knew he should use the time to let it all sink in but instead he was walking back and forth like a caged animal. Just the idea of being pent up made him feel like being pent up and if there was one thing a Tethras couldn't stand was being pent up. About that issue they felt even more strongly than pirates. He and Bertrand had fled Orzammar for a reason. Admittedly there had been a father making a wrong bet, or rather betting with prior knowledge which was worse, but the main reason had been he and his brother were driven completely nuts by the prison Orzammar in fact represented. He plopped down on a bench and cursed under his breath.

'Oh come on, Varric,' Isabela exclaimed, waving the bottle of rum around, 'it's not all that bad. Wipe that frown off your face, you're worrying Bianca. And I'm positive it's bad for your chest hair. Why don't you join us? Our little kitten has some immensely interesting stories to share.'

Next to her Merrill giggled girlishly and Varric realized she had drunk more than a mouthful of rum. Hence undoubtedly also her unnatural rosy cheeks. Thankfully there was little left of the pale, miserable trembling small heap of elf they had taken with them to the Keep. 'You don't know the half of it,' she chirped happily.

'Hail to the glorious effects of alcohol,' Varric thought. And thus he stood and snatched the bottle out of Isabela's hands, giving the effects a try himself. He indeed did feel somewhat better after a large swill. And besides that, teasing the Dalish elf was a pleasurable pastime. He plastered a smile on his face. 'I'm glad to hear, Daisy. I imagine the book Hawke and Fenris gave you must have been very informative ..?'

As expected Merrill almost choked on her next fit of giggles. 'You don't know the half of it,' she said again. She put a hand to her mouth and whispered conspiratorially, 'you know, she was actually a he.'

With a sigh of contentment Varric sank in the seat next to her. Even in the midst of misery there always shone a small but bright light.

Wordless Fenris stood staring at what was left of his home, his face an unreadable stone mask. His whole body stayed motionless, even his hands dangled along his thighs without as much as a tiny jolt. No clenching of fists, not the smallest of ripples of his muscles betraying his rage, not a twitch of lashes or a move of eyes; he didn't even seem to breathe. It was uncanny.

Aveline grew nervous; she'd rather he'd explode in blue rage. She didn't know what was going on behind that stoic bearing but feared the elf would go on a killing rampage once the outward composure would wear off. And she was standing dreadfully close by, close enough to become his first victim. She had with all the calmness she could muster explained what had transpired. And he hadn't reacted at all. That is to say, not in the way she had expected.

On the other hand Hawke was very busy venting her anger. That at least was recognisable and almost comforting.

The two lovers had at last shown up in the Keep, still accompanied by an enormously enthusiastic Tempest. Even now the war hound was an example of innocent happiness, darting cheerfully through the debris.

Finally Fenris gave some comment. 'You can say the present we bestowed on the Dalish witch has backfired. Almost literally.' He sounded strained but not like he was going to detonate in the near future.

Then again Hawke was almost igniting with pure fury. 'We will punish them for this! I promise you I will find some way to take revenge! We will –'

In an unnoticeable fast motion Fenris grabbed her wrist. 'No.'

She tried to wriggle free. 'What "no"? They have to pay!' she cried out vehemently.

Fenris grimaced grimly. 'Oh, they will pay, don't you worry, but by doing something – constructive this time.' He puffed out the air he had been holding in. 'They will rebuild what they have demolished. Stone by stone. But no revenge. This has gone too far already. And what kind of revenge did you have in mind anyway? Blowing up the Hanged Man? No Marian, I don't want this. The game we played has turned into a fight and when we take it any further it will going to be outright war. It stops here.'

Reluctantly Hawke had to admit he was right. It had gone too far. Of course Varric never had wanted this disaster but it just had happened because one thing had led to another. And from here it could only get worse if they kept going on. She sighed. 'You're right. It has to stop. Just grant me the pleasure of looking at Varric and Isabela toiling in sweat while rebuilding your mansion, preferably with some cold white wine close at hand.'

Fenris let out a sardonic laugh. 'I will join you. With pleasure, I might add.'

Aveline could hardly believe her ears. Her admiration for the elf grew. Even in her highest hopes she had not foreseen this reaction but she was more than grateful for it.

'Good! I'm already looking forward to it,' Marian smiled. And then frowned irritated. 'Tempest! Get back here, you insufferable scallywag!' But of course her dog didn't listen and instead kept dashing around, scattering rubbish and dust around in his wild-goose chase.

When Hawke stepped inside, which was a very relative concept in the present circumstances, to remove Tempest her eye fell on something metallic lying in the rubble. She prodded it with the toe of her boot. 'What's this?' She stooped and picked up something that looked like a strong-box. Sweeping off the dust and dirt she pointed out, 'there's something etched in the lid.' She walked back to Fenris and handed him the box. 'Do you perchance recognize this symbol?'

'And why do you think I should?' the elf said automatically but immediately after went rigid and turned deadly pale. 'That's the seal of Danarius,' he managed hoarsely.

Hawke almost dropped the box and stared at it as if it contained poison. She tried very hard to gather her thoughts that threatened to scatter to all the four quarters at once. 'So the bastard has been here after all. All those years ago. And as you already suspected he has fled head over heels. This strong-box proves it. I cannot imagine he left something like this behind just like that.'

Fenris swallowed with difficulty. 'Unless it holds nothing of import.'

'If that were true, why was it hidden in the wall?' reacted Hawke heatedly. She tried to calm down. 'At least I think it was.' She flared up again. 'No, it must have been otherwise you would have stumbled upon it way sooner. This has been hidden and it has been hidden for a reason.' She impatiently tried to open the lid but to her frustration it was firmly locked. 'We need lockpicks for this one. Or a chisel or perhaps a pocket of gaatlok.'

'Let's get back to the Keep,' Aveline suggested, 'I bet – sorry – our blacksmith can solve this problem.' Because of course the garrison in the Keep occupied their own blacksmith. There were enough weapons and armour to repair and maintain.

Along the way Fenris stayed very quiet. He didn't know if he wanted to find out what was in the box. He had experience with disappointing empty ones but this time he feared it could contain something confronting. He had just overcome his struggles with his memories about being on the run; he absolutely had no wish to face anything according his former master. He suddenly wondered why he had been so adamantly keen on regaining his memories; who knows what they could reveal. He now wasn't certain he wanted to acquire the facts about his past. He had a new life, one he was very happy with because he lived it with the woman he loved beyond anything else. He didn't want his past to spoil that.

At the same moment he felt her hand slip in his. She squeezed encouraging and supportively. 'I'm with you, Fenris,' she said softly, 'you know that, right? I stand by your side, no matter what.'

He wasn't even surprised she had guessed his anxiety; she could read his feelings like a book. 'I know.' He turned to her and smiled. 'That is one of the reasons I love you so much.'

And now they were gathered in Aveline's office, standing around her desk. Even Varric, Isabela and Merrill. They threw nervous glances at Fenris but the elf was too wound up to scold them for what they, accidently or not, had caused. He had another, more important issue to trouble his head about. Their solemn stares turned to the strong-box sitting in the middle of the desk. The object was still closed but the lock had been expertly destroyed by the Keep's blacksmith.

'Fenris ..?' Hawke said tentatively.

He shook his head, 'You do it,' he murmured, strained as a bowstring. He could not bring up the strength to face what was inside that – thing.

Hawke nodded understanding. 'Alright, here it goes.' Slowly she opened the lid.

The box contained a costly collection of gold coins and precious glittering gems. And a document. A very official looking document, dripping with very official red wax seals. Hawke picked up the paper, folded it open and started to read. Everyone around her held their breath. They looked intensely at her face that became more astounded by the minute.

'You're not going to believe this,' she finally said, evidently very upset no matter how much she tried to hide it, 'this is a certificate of ownership.' Her voice trembled. She looked up and caught Fenris's eyes. 'Danarius's ownership of you.'

Fenris felt his knees grow weak and he clutched the rim of the table. 'What?!' His vision began to blur and his ears rang with the sheer significance of her words.

'Do you know what this means?' Marian gasped emotional, but he already understood before she explained. 'Danarius has no proof you are or has ever been his property. I don't think this document has any value in the rest of Thedas but in Tevinter it –' she faltered.

Varric took over. 'The evil Magister won't be able to proof you have ever been his slave.' He grinned with evil delight. 'Congratulations elf. Now you are truly a free man.' He added, 'and the treasure in that box will allow you to live like an Orlesian prince.' He burst out laughing. 'Daisy, sweetheart, you can go on blowing up mansions as often as you like!'

Of course Fenris has to say something about this all, after he has sorted out his confusing. But that's for the next chapter.

Thank you so much for reading!