Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

The journey was a success, of sorts. Merrill was truly a pariah now. Her people looked upon her as though she had some highly contagious, very nasty disease. They all knew of Merrill's ill-kept secret. In Aria's eyes, they were more than justified for their ire. She was left in the difficult position of keeping Merrill from jumping further down the rabbit hole while keeping the peace with those who saw her as a perpetually growing threat.

All they had to do to obtain the arulin'holm from Marethari was kill a varterral: A mammoth of a creature with four stony, spider-like legs attached to an arachnid-like body, with an enormous spear of a head. It had taken them nearly two hours of constant battle to take the creature down. With the angered creature slain and the hunters' amulets returned to the Keeper, Marethari produced the arulin'holm, but urged Hawke to disallow Merrill's further obsession with the mirror.

"Reason with her, Hawke. Please, don't let her do this," Marethari desperately begged of Aria as she handed the tool over.

The Keeper disappeared into the Dalish Camp and left Aria to deal with Merrill. Aria slowly turned to face the self-avowed blood mage, trepidation written all over her features.

"Merrill, no good can come of completing that thing," Aria softly stated, her eyes dropping to her feet.

"But you promised! And you are not of the Dales! How can you keep it? That is mine!" Merrill snapped at her then, trying to snatch the strange, small instrument from Aria's grasp. The rogue spun and faced her, a dagger drawn.

"I am an honorary of the People," Aria tersely stated, quickly stashing the arulin'holm in her breast pocket. "Which means I have the right. Why can't you see that I'm trying to protect you from yourself? You are your own worst enemy, lethallan."

"Don't you dare say that to me!" Merrill shrilly cried, her voice cracking with rage.

Aria sighed and sheathed her dagger. "If you can prove to me that restoring that mirror will cause no harm, I will gladly give this to you. But you said it killed Fenarel, one of your kinsmen, and infected yet another hunter with the same affliction cured only by becoming a Grey Warden. Its track record speaks for itself, Merrill."

"Listen to Hawke," Fenris said then, his voice stern and his eyes cold. "She's not torturing you. She's saving you. Like your Keeper tried to do. Do yourself and favor and just-"

"You shut up! I hate you! I can't take this," Merrill screamed at Fenris, then turned and disappeared down the trail leading away from the camp.

"Maker, she runs fast," Aria said on a heavy exhale of breath.

"She is on a path to self-destruction," Anders wearily stated, falling into step behind Aria and Fenris as they followed their angry, wayward companion.

"You would know," Fenris quipped.

"Enough!" Aria barked at both of them. "I've—had enough fighting for the day. Let's go home, before Merrill decides to bathe Kirkwall in fire and blood."

Fenris sniggered at this, glaring at Hawke through the fringe of his reckless hair. But he said no more. Anders fumed silently, passing them to take the lead down the wending, rutted mountain trail. They trekked briskly down the mountain, making excellent time. By sundown they were almost back to Kirkwall, setting themselves up for a return late in the morning.

It was extremely awkward, and tense, setting up camp with just Anders and Fenris. Aria just wished Anders would make up his damn mind. Time and time again, he had denied her, saying it was his final choice. Time and time again he found a way to put himself back into contention for her affection. While she no doubt found him attractive and she did indeed have feelings for him, her thoughts shifted back to the first time she'd given Fenris reading lessons. The memory of that kiss was all she had needed to cement her crazily rampant emotions. She would never turn Anders completely away, but when it came to the realm of her heart, she could admit, if only to herself and no one else, that Fenris reigned as king.

Anders started the cook fire and Fenris went down to the river near camp to fish. Aria settled herself on her bed roll and snagged a book from her pack. It was a compilation of Varric's short stories, many of them starring Hawke from her days in Athenril's service. Others starred Anders in the Deep Roads as a warden, Fenris as a fugitive on the run, and Varric himself as a professional younger brother to a tyrant elder brother.

"What is that?" Fenris's voice issued from the twilight next to her, low and defensive.

Aria jumped slightly, startled, and nearly dropped the small book. She regained her composure quickly, turned down the corner of the page she was on, then crisply closed it. She proffered it to Fenris, who took it and perused the cover.

"Don't bother, I don't think he can read that level yet," Anders sniped from his position near the fire, turning the makeshift spit he'd created to cook the fish Fenris brought back from the river.

"Proves what you know," Fenris growled, not rising to the bait Anders set. "I wonder if Varric has the new guard quarterly out. I've been waiting."

"Don't let Aveline hear you say that," Merrill's voice came from behind them. Aria abruptly stood and faced her.

"Look who's returned," Fenris rasped, distastefully eying the other elf.

Aria elbowed him rather ineffectually in the ribs. He glared at her but said nothing. "Care for some river trout?" Aria asked her, indicating the cook fire with a wave of her hand.

"Yes please," Merrill politely said, dropping her pack next to Aria's. "I realized I was leaving you to deal with these two alone, and that was selfish. And no, I don't want to talk about anything, if that's all right with you."

Aria just nodded, holding up her hands in a placating manner and ignoring the color she could feel coming into her ears and cheeks. She settled herself back down on her makeshift bed, using a log for a back rest. Fenris handed her the small book and sat next to her, his eyes on the book.

"Songs of Glory," Fenris said slowly, reading the title embossed in gold on the cover of the book.

"A collection of embellishments by Varric Tethras," Aria laughed, handing the book back to Fenris. "Show me what you've got."

Fenris took the book and opened it to the first story. He began to read quietly aloud. Aria listened to him read, helping him when he struggled with a word. Anders and Merrill silently listened along, Merrill nodded when Fenris mastered difficult words on his own. Anders's face was stoic, his eyes faraway and angry.

Fenris finished reading the tale of Varric's tricky scuffle with a dwarf in the merchant guild, then handed the book back to Aria. She stowed it in her pack. Anders put the fire out and settled his bed roll next to Merrill's. He said nothing as he laid down, turned his back to them, and presumably went to sleep. Aria laid down, using her pack as a pillow, and looked up at the stars. Merrill snored softly next to her, having been lured into sleep by the soft, deep tones of Fenris's reading. Fenris remained seated on his own bedroll, also contemplating the skies.

"This close to Kirkwall, we shouldn't need watches," Aria softly said to the warrior elf.

Fenris turned his head toward her, his kelly green eyes somehow managing to catch the light of the stars. He regarded her for a moment in studious silence, his expression unreadable, then turned his eyes back to the sky.

Aria sighed and turned onto her side, facing away from him. She closed her eyes and listened to the song of the night winds as it trickled through the trees. A few moments later, she heard Fenris shift, his armour clinking softly as he moved to lay down. Aria held her breath when she felt his hand smooth down her arm, resting when it reached her hip. She turned her head slightly to look out the corner of her eye at him. She couldn't fully read the expression on his sternly handsome face, so she rolled onto her back once more. His hand slid from her hip to her belly in the process, his touch sending her heart skittering.

Wordlessly, he lowered his lips to hers, allowing only a brief exchange before pulling away to look down into her eyes. His hand moved to cup her chin and he lowered his lips to hers again; this time he allowed his tongue to slip over her bottom lip to tangle with hers. She sighed softly, responding eagerly to the kiss but mindful of making too much noise.

Far too quickly, he retreated again, only to lie next to her. He faced her, his expression once again unfathomable. "Sleep," he whispered then as he pulled her utilitarian blanket up over her shoulders.

Aria reached up to touch his face, a slight smile played at her lips. She sighed and let her hand slip away, then closed her eyes. Here in the wilderness, they didn't have to operate under false pretenses. They didn't have to worry about the shallow-minded disapproval of noblemen and poor folk alike. Here, they could just... Be.

ooooooo

Dawn had just broken when Aria woke. Fenris laid next to her, an arm draped protectively over her hip, his chest rising and falling in a deep, slow rhythm. Merrill still snored on the other side of Aria. Anders sat on a log on the furthest side of the doused cook fire, glaring at Fenris's sleeping form. Aria gently moved his arm and inched her way out of her bedroll. She carefully ignored Anders's gaze as she re-donned her armour.

"So, he doesn't spend the night at your estate," Anders venomously whispered from behind her.

Aria rounded on him, instinctively drawing a dagger. She held it to his throat before she could rein in her battle instincts. She immediately dropped it when she realized how close she came to threatening his life. The look of hurt in his eyes was more than she could take.

"He hasn't, no," Aria tersely quipped as she retrieved the dagger from the dirt and sheathed it on her back once more. She wasn't apologizing for her involvement with the elf. Not anymore.

"And yet every time we've gone on the road since after the Deep Roads, you sleep either in his embrace or close enough to touch him. You...love him," Anders whispered.

Aria didn't reply. She set about breaking camp, ignoring the help Anders offered. Fenris woke shortly after the scuffle. Merrill took more effort to wake. The sun was just below the highest point of the treeline when they set off for Kirkwall again.

They didn't go far, however. They were stopped by Tevinters; slave hunters who had come for Fenris at Danarius's bidding. The four companions circled up, ready to deal with this new threat.

"You're in possession of stolen property!" One of the mages accompanying the hired thugs called out from a safe vantage on a rock formation just above them.

"Fenris is a free man!" Aria yelled back as she drew her daggers and swirled them in lethal agitation.

"I told you he would not relent," Fenris venomously stated from next to her. His eyes darted to all the aggressors lining up to challenge them. "I am not a slave!" White light exploded from the markings all over Fenris's body. It was terrifyingly beautiful to witness.

"Hand him over nicely, and we'll spare you lot," another man next to the mage said from off to her left.

"Over my dead body," Aria spat, whipping a dagger at his skull. It buried itself to the hilt in one of his eye sockets, a trademark move of hers.

A nasty battle ensued as the four travelers went head-to-head with the complement of Tevinter slavers. It was well past noon when they finally won the skirmish. Aria sustained numerous injuries, though none were serious. Anders silently healed them all, his gaze kept carefully neutral.

Fenris cornered one of the mages, who had luckily only been knocked out by one of Merrill's spells. He pinned the man against the earth, smashing the mage's head viciously onto the stony ground.

"Where is he?" Fenris demanded.

"I don't know, I swear!" the mage pleaded and blood poured out of his broken nose. He bled profusely from a cut above his eyebrow as well.

Fenris slammed the mage's head again, hard enough that they all winced in sympathy. "Tell me!"

"I don't know! I came with Hadriana! She's...in the holding caves, nearby. I can lead you to them-"

"No need," Fenris snarled. "I know of the place you speak."

"Please, let me go," the mage begged.

Whatever mercy Fenris might have possessed was not present today. Aria watched in stunned silence as Fenris deftly snapped the mage's neck. He returned to her side, his eyes surveyed the rocky outcrops around them for more threats. The wolf was officially off the chain and on the hunt.

"Hadriana..." he spat, the name a putrid curse on his tongue.

"Who is that?" Aria bluntly asked.

"Danarius's apprentice. She used to deny my meals, hound my sleep... All because she knew I was powerless to stop her."

"You were," Aria gently interjected. "But we're not in Tevinter. She won't have that power anymore."

"We must go to the holding caves. Now. I know a quick way there," Fenris feverishly stated. He trotted back up the path on which they'd just spent four days.

"Maker save me," Aria whispered under her breath. "You're going to be the death of me."