Chapter THIRTY

A/N: Lyrics belong to the rock Gods, Metallica.

"What happened last night at the Hanged Man?" Aria asked as soon as they cleared the Keep and were meandering through the streets of Hightown. It was a warm evening despite the late hour, and the wind bore the sweet, earthy, heavy scent of rain on the way. Aria wanted a good thunderstorm. She loved them.

"Wicked Grace, why?" Fenris rasped, suspicion lacing his tone.

"Somehow, I don't believe that's merely all that happened," Aria chided, her tone playfully accusatory.

"What happens at the Hanged Man, stays at the Hanged Man," Fenris employed one of Varric's favourite dodging phrases.

"You and Anders weren't at each other's throats. Did you kiss him and make up?"

"Venhedis!" Fenris spat, a curse in Tevinter, Aria was sure.

"Yes well, what happens at the Hanged Man, stays at the Hanged Man," Aria quipped. "Where are we going?" Fenris had led them to his mansion.

"I am going home. You are welcome to accompany me," he cordially growled, exerting less pressure on her arm where it rested in the crook of his.

"I can hardly say no now, can I?" Aria theatrically groused.

"I had hoped we could... Talk about some things." He opened the door for her and she stepped inside, just as the first droplets of rain began to fall.

"That's a first," Aria replied with a snort.

"I...beg your pardon?" Fenris challenged.

"You. Wanting to talk about some things."

Fenris hung his head as he said, "We have much to discuss. Come, I'll get a bottle of wine from the cellar. You make yourself comfortable and I'll return shortly." He took her cloak and her dagger belt and hung them next to his weapons on the rack near the door, then disappeared to fetch the wine.

Aria sighed and made her way up to the second floor to his study, where he usually entertained guests. She walked out onto the terrace and watched the rain fall in a slow, steady drizzle. She breathed in deeply, savoring the sweet scent of the Chantry gardens that wafted to her on the humid breeze, blended with the earthen notes of wet dirt and stone. She was dreading what he had to say, but at the same time, she was relieved. One way or another, things would change. Whatever the outcome, she was glad to get it over with.

Her knee bumped a low table as she turned to walk back inside and she saw two jars of ink, a few quills, and three leather-bound books on it. She sat down in one of the decorative patio chairs that flanked the table and flipped open the books, the third of which turned out to be Fenris's journal. She studied his beautiful, scrawling penmanship, which even as a novice, was far better than most nobles' chicken scratches.

She smiled at this, the schooner-sized hole in her heart shrinking slightly. He'd taken Varric's advice and was penning his own thoughts. Aria was oddly proud of the elf for this; he was much more intelligent than anyone gave him credit for. He was a rabid learner, and he took to education like a fish to water. He'd had a basic understanding of the alphabet and could read small, common words when at first she'd started teaching him. Now... In just a few short months, his diligent practice, dogged patience, and innate ability had him ravenously expanding his written lexicon. As she perused his writing, she allowed that feeling of pride to glow warmly in her chest.

Aria snapped the journal closed when she heard the soft scuff of his feet on the stairs. She turned in the chair to look back out at the rain once more. She hadn't read anything in the journal, just appreciated how beautifully his penmanship had progressed. Aria feared he would never believe her, though, if he caught her looking at it. It wasn't a chance she wanted to take, not when their...relationship or whatever it was, was hanging precariously in the balance. She felt the scales were tipping toward the better, and it wasn't something she would willingly sabotage.

"I never liked the rain, until I came here," Fenris said as he joined her. He dragged another chair over and sat next to her, the chair angled so that he could both look at her, and at the falling rain.

"Why is that?" Aria queried, accepting the freshly uncorked bottle he handed her. She took a draw from it and smiled, closing her eyes. It was a fine vintage, sweet and heady, just how she enjoyed her wine. A dark, sweet, red Antivan variety. She handed it back to him and watched him drink from it.

"Sometimes, you just have to change perspective," he bitterly hedged, his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Sorrow interspersed with hate and regret, but hope lingered in the mix as well.

"That's...very wise. I love the rain. It...erases the mistakes. Lets new growth come through," Aria agreed.

"Or, perhaps, it makes me think of you, and those thoughts were once happy," Fenris added sadly, handing her the bottle.

She met his gaze and couldn't find any words. It was an admission she'd never thought to hear from him. He looked as terrible as she felt. Everyone had been right all along, he had just been better at hiding it. They were both miserable. They both hated how things had transpired. But at least, maybe now, things could change for the better.

"I'd like them to be happy again," she managed on a whisper, casting her gaze back to the rain. She took a drink and handed the bottle back to him.

He set it on the table and stood, his fingers lacing together as he drew his arms up, resting his palms on the back of his head as he paced for a moment.

"I must...I must first apologize," he said at length. Aria took a drink. "I must apologize for what I did to you in the Fade. I cannot begin to convey how...deeply sorry I am."

Aria sighed and took another drink, fighting the tears that stung her eyes. This was what she had been waiting for months to happen. This was the conversation she'd both dreaded and needed. She couldn't speak, her throat was too tight. So she just drank and listened.

"I don't think I deserve your forgiveness," he rasped, his hands going to the terrace's stone railing, his back to her. "But I am...selfish enough to ask for it all the same."

Aria stood and walked behind him. He did not turn, his head hung low, and he tightened his grip on the railing as he felt her slip behind him. She slid her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his shoulder. He drew a deep, slow breath, then exhaled it on a shuddering sigh. He smoothed one hand over her arms encircling his waist, the other still rested on the rail for balance.

"It isn't my forgiveness you need," Aria whispered, her lips against the skin on the back of his neck. She felt him tremble slightly and his breathing hitched as gooseflesh appeared on his neck and arms. "But, if it helps, I forgive you."

He turned in her embrace then and sank to his knees, his face pressed against her abdomen, his fingers curled into the soft fabric of the coverlet she wore over her armour. Aria didn't fight the flow of tears that brimmed her eyes and she ran her fingers lovingly through the reckless silver hair that adorned his noble head.

"I hate myself for betraying you in the Fade. I hate that I took a demon's offer over defending you," he ground the words out between gritted teeth, his breath coming in hisses. He drew his face away from her body to look up into her eyes. Aria tenderly cupped his chin. "I hate that I left you, but I feel I don't deserve you, more now than ever."

"I'm no saint, Fenris. I forgive you, and I don't care about what you did, or who your master was, or...or...what happened in a bloody dream!" Aria feverishly replied, sinking to her knees so she could be eye level with him. She took him gently by the shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes, her forehead rested against his, and the tips of their noses touched. "I...need you, Fenris."

"I need you, too," he hoarsely whispered as he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"And you need to forgive yourself," Aria added tenderly, her hand catching his and their fingers curled together.

"I must tell you something. Something I haven't told anyone. Something none of the others must ever know. I need to swear you to silence, but I need you to know. So that...So that it can never be used against you. Against us," Fenris said then, his eyes bright with fear and sorrow.

"Anything, Fenris. Anything. I'd do...anything for you," Aria feverishly replied.

He stood then, his momentum took her with him, and they went inside after Aria snatched the bottle from the table. Fenris closed the terrace doors and locked them, then offered her his hand. She took it without hesitation and he led her out of the study, across the balcony, to his chambers.

It was something he'd never done, a part of his house she'd never been in since they'd cleared Danarius's pets out of it well over a year and a half ago. Fenris opened the door for her and closed it immediately after they entered. It was dark inside, but a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room for her.

An enormous canopy bed rested at the far end, its dark curtains pulled up in one corner over the head of the bed nearest to them. The doors to the balcony were closed and the rain pattered a sweet, soft lullaby against them. Fenris struck a match and lit the torches in the sconces throughout the room, then the oil lamp on the nightstand.

While the rest of his mansion, save the study, was in disrepair, this room was immaculate. The red marble floor glistened and rivulets of white pearl ran through the odd red stone. Fine red and black linens adorned the canopy and bed. Several books rested on the ebony desk and nightstand. At the center of the desk, though, was a pot of scarlet paint, a few clean brushes laid next to it on a clean linen, and at the heart of the workspace, there was a flask. Upon the flask was a painstakingly hand-painted perfect redesign of Aria's tattoo.

This drew her. She picked up the silver flask and studied the design. It was the same flask he'd handed to her that first night he'd accompanied her in the wilderness. She smiled at the memory.

"I...hope that doesn't bother you," he softly said from behind her. Fenris stood next to the bed, his fingers worked to unlace the leather bindings that held his notoriously spiky shoulder armour.

"I love it," Aria breathed, gently returning the flask to the desk. She turned to look around the rest of the room.

Everything was clean, immaculate, even. The walls were white, the ornately carved baseboards and molding painted the same red as the floor. On the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed from where Fenris now stood was a vase full of beautiful white and purple flowers, the same ones that had been delivered to Gamlen's hovel so very long ago, it seemed. Aria's heart melted at this and she strode over to smell them.

When she turned to take in the rest of the room, she saw him watching her, the same heat in his eyes that had been present the night he'd slain Hadriana and waited for Aria at her own mansion. He'd removed all of his battle implements, save the chest piece that laced over his shoulders and down his back. Aria slowly walked over to him and took up the task of removing it. He stood silently while she worked, his eyes darted restlessly over her every movement.

Aria found herself humming a sweet, low melody, and then the words came as she picked at the lacing on the back that held his chest piece in place.

Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I want to hear
To make my demons run
The door is locked now
But it's open if you're true
If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you
Lay beside me, under wicked sky
Through black of day, dark of night
We share this, paralyzed
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through
Black heart scarring darker still
But there's no sun shining through
What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired I stand alone
Could you be there?
I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven too?

She stopped singing then, a tear sliding down her cheek. His hand covered hers, the laces undone on his armour. He helped her lift it over his head, then he let it fall to the floor. Their eyes locked, and they both held their breath.

"Fenris..." Aria whispered, her palm tenderly rested on the curve of his jaw.

"I must confess first," he huskily stated, his own fingers plucked at the lacing of her armour.

She helped him unbind her, until she wore nothing but the soft black suede breeches and black camisole of her underarmour. He scooped her up into his arms and gently placed her at the center of the bed. He drew the canopy closed around them, then lay on his side facing her.

"When I... Made love to you that night, something happened," he haltingly stated, his voice hoarse. "I remembered everything. I remembered..."

Aria was silent, though she scooted closer. She threw one leg possessively over his hip, heartened when he smoothed his hand to rest in the hollow of her bent knee, holding it there. His head rested on the pillow next to hers, their faces inches apart.

"I competed for this," he whispered, his eyes downcast.

"For what?" Aria gently pressed.

"These markings. To be Danarius's body guard."

"So you...wanted them?"

"No!" he said, more harshly than he had intended. He released her leg to rub at his forehead. "Yes. I did but... I did it to secure freedom for my family. But that wasn't...that wasn't the only reason."

Aria took his hand in hers and rested their entwined fingers against her chest. "Anyone who loved their family would do the same."

"No, Aria. You don't understand. Just...listen. Please," he entreated, shifting so that he was even closer to her. He released her hand so that he could fidget with the long braid of silver hair that hung over her shoulder.

"I'm listening," she whispered in reply, watching his eyes through the fringe of his hair.

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, as if the thoughts in his head physically pained him. "I was a boy on the cusp of becoming a man. I hated the power of the magisters, but more than that—I wanted it. I wanted to be as invincible as they. I wanted to be feared, respected, the mere utterance of my name to send sheer terror straight into the hearts of anyone who sought to challenge me."

"You wanted to be equal," Aria quietly summarized, remembering the line in her own journal.

"Yes... But at a terrible cost."

"There is nothing wrong with that," she tenderly stated, swiping his bangs from his face so she could see his eyes.

"I killed for it. I hungered for it. That...demon in the fade, he saw it. He pounced on the opportunity to twist whatever noble intent I had..."

"Fenris, that's what demons do. It wasn't you. It was just a dream."

"I turned on the one thing in this world that I cannot live without. What does that say of me? Anders didn't turn on you," Fenris shamefully spat.

"Varric did, and he's a dwarf. He's supposed to be immune to that sort of thing," Aria countered. "And Anders is already an abomination. The demon had no leverage because Anders is already possessed."

"You strike...an interesting argument. I hadn't thought of it that way," Fenris conceded.

"My father was a mage. My sister is a mage. Magic is something I've been around my whole life," Aria said.

"Our experiences have been...polar opposites," he rasped, his hand catching hers once more. He rested her palm against his chest, and she could feel the strong, slow, steady thud of his heart.

"At least...at least your sister isn't a slave. She's alive, and she's free. She owes that to you," Aria softly stated and her eyes squeezed closed. "You didn't...fail."

Fenris pushed her onto her back, his body covered hers. He looked down into her eyes, gently pinning her arms on either side of her head. "You did not fail."

"Yes, I did. I failed to protect Carver. I failed to protect Bethany. I have only succeeded in saving my Mother, and sometimes, I feel she still blames me for them."

"Your mother loves you. I need to learn to forgive myself, so you said. But, so must you," he rasped as his hand released one of hers, then slid down her neck, over her collarbone, fingers splayed between her breasts. The heat in his now heavy-lidded eyes intoxicating.

"I'm working on it," Aria replied, dizzy from his proximity, from his touch. Her pulse lurched, quickening, and heat pooled low in her abdomen, throbbing in time with the crescendoing beat of her heart.

"And so will I," Fenris huskily stated, lowering his lips to hers.

What started out as a soft, sweet exchange soon erupted into a wanton inferno. Aria equaled his passionate onslaught, completely lost in the solace his body offered. His heat branded her, blazed away all of the worry, the fear, the hate, the helplessness that dogged her every moment of every day. He made her demons run. She savagely hoped that she did the same for him.

She absorbed every detail of him. How his battle-roughened hands gently commanded her body's response. How his lips claimed hers with unbridled, unforgiving ardor. How the brands of his skin glowed and pulsed in response to her touch. How complete she felt when he at last possessed her. And when they both climaxed, beautifully, violently, she treasured the exquisite bliss expressed on his countenance.

They laid beneath the covers, their naked bodies tangled. Outside, the storm raged. But here, it could not touch them. The torches burned themselves out and the lamp's flame burned extremely low. Fenris traced lazy, swirling patterns down her arms, her chest, across her back. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to, unless some imminent threat to him existed.

"Say something," he whispered, once the lamp finally extinguished itself and plunged the room into total darkness that only grew illuminated by the sudden, violent flashes of lightning outside.

"Mmm... What do you want me to say?" Aria drawled, arching her back against him the way a cat does when pet.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," Fenris huskily replied as his lips grazed her shoulder.

"This time...was it...better?" she haltingly queried. A soft sigh came from her lips when his teeth tugged at her ear lobe.

He chuckled, that deep, full, amused rasping sound only she had ever heard. "If I'm not careful, the Maker may decide to make you his new Andraste, and I would be forced to hunt him for all eternity."

Aria laughed at this, a merry, tinkling sound of silver and sunshine. Fenris lived to hear her laugh that way, the way she did just for him. He held her, this crazy, wild, deadly, sweet woman, and he wanted to be the only one to ever hold her like this. She was his. He was hers. She was the last master he would ever answer to, and she saw him as equal. Everything about her had become suddenly and irrevocably precious to him.

"He'd have to enslave me to do it. I would not go willingly," Aria murmured, turning in his embrace. She showered his face with kisses and caught up his hands in hers.

"Stay with me tonight," he said then, and they both jumped when lightning struck outside, the immediately ensuing thunderclap rattling all of Hightown.

"I have no intention of going out in that," Aria giggled, turning her head to look out the windows.

Fenris kissed the sinew that stood out on her throat at the motion, then drew her to lie beneath him. "If it wasn't raining?"

"I've no intention of going anywhere. I've all I need right here," she headily whispered and reached up to touch his face.

"Would it be too terrible of me to request a...round two?" he suggested then, an impish grin playing on his lips when the lightning flashed again.

Aria used her body to roll him onto his back, her hips straddled his, her hands had his pinned above his head. "I don't know... Would it be too terrible of me to demand round three when round two is over?"

Fenris chuckled deeply in his throat. "Is that how this is supposed to work?"

"Ask me if I care," Aria snarled, taking her turn in being the aggressor. She claimed his mouth with hers and he responded with equal urgency.