Chapter FORTY-FIVE

The next morning, they woke to the sounds of a terrible thunderstorm raging outside. A few trees in the garden their palatial suite was next to had fallen. Lightning lit the entire suite and the thunder was savagely loud. A servant boy came to stoke their fire shortly after they had awoken and dressed, and he informed them that King Alistair was holding court this morning and would be unavailable until supper was served in his chambers. He extended an invitation to them to join him and Ysabel once more, but that would leave them with the rest of the day to themselves.

Aria snatched up one of her many books and sat in the window seat by the large, arching picture window overlooking the gardens. Rain pattered the glass so hard it shook. Fenris dragged a chair next to her and read his own book. They had both become so engrossed that it took a serving girl showing up with lunch to break them from their indulgence.

"What would you say if I suggested venturing to Rivain?" Fenris asked as they sat down at the dining table to eat their meal: Brisket masterfully smoked, garlic asparagus, and fresh strawberries. Aria rolled her eyes in delight at the first bite.

"Rivain?" Aria asked in surprise. "Why Rivain?"

"I've been...reading about the culture there, and I think you'd like it," he quietly rasped.

Aria laughed at this. "Tell me about their culture."

He cocked his head to the side quizzically and raised a brow. "Well, women pretty much rule there. And they're very tolerant of elves. Plus, it's a Qunari-neutral zone."

"Oooh, neutrality. They'll just capture me and drag me into Qunari-dominated zones and then off with my head."

Fenris laughed heartily at this. "I'd like to see them try."

Aria kicked him lightly under the table. "They'd probably use you as bait."

He chuckled. "You're probably right."

"I usually am. When it counts," she saucily replied.

They ate in silence for a few moments, each lost to their own thoughts as they slowly ate. Aria broke the silence.

"I really am getting...bored though. All we do is sleep and eat. Is that what it means to be a noble?"

Fenris chuckled at this and nodded. "Pretty much."

"Then, I don't want anything to do with being nobility. I'm tired of dinner parties."

"So, Rivain is a yes?" Fenris asked, his face serious.

"How about Antiva?"

"We'd get in trouble in Antiva," he snorted.

"Why?"

"You...wearing armour? Bad idea," he said, with a high air of intellectual dignity.

"Oooh, look at you!" Aria giggled. "Professor Fenris. I've created a monster."

Fenris chuckled low in his throat. "They'd have assassins following your every move."

"Well, I've luckily become quite adept at being hounded by death," Aria darkly laughed.

"Indeed."

"You know what? Why don't we just...go wherever the wind takes us?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow," Fenris said then.

They got up from the table and went to the large Orlesian glass doors that led to the garden. It was still pouring rain and the sky was still very dark. Aria sighed.

"We just... Go. In whatever direction."

"We'd have to hire a coach and driver who'd be willing to just... Follow wherever."

Aria sighed again. "Why must you always be the voice of reason?" she chuckled.

"We could go by ship," he suggested. "And just...stop in every port, book passage on another ship when we've experienced what we wish, and continue thus."

Aria stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Planning was never my strong suit. Everything I ever plan just...blows up in my face anyway."

"We could go to Orlais."

"Now you're just being mean."

He kissed the top of her head and his hands smoothed up and down her back. "Think about it, Aria. The last place anyone would think to look for you would be in Orlais."

Aria perked at this and pulled slightly away to look up into his crystalline gaze. "You have a point."

"I usually do. When it counts," he teased.

"Well then, as soon as this storm eases up, we'll go."

"And in the meantime?" he asked.

"Let's go see what the soldiers are up to."

"Why...why can you not ever have an idea that doesn't involve the possibility of incarceration or death?"

Aria chortled loudly, the laugh he most adored about her. The corner of his mouth turned up in his trademark smirk and he bent to kiss her sweetly. The servants came in then and cleared the table. Aria handed each of them ten silvers for their troubles. The idea of people waiting on her hand and foot made her...uneasy. At least not without recompense.

"I'm serious though. Perhaps we could go to the barrack's training room. I feel so sluggish and out of sorts. I feel...lazy," Aria groused, stripping out of the simple hunter green day gown she wore until she was down to her underclothes.

"Perhaps we could spar," Fenris suggested.

"What does the winner get?" Aria said, playfully wary.

"Whatever they want of the loser," he chuckled.

"Done."

"Well then. Let's go."

They quickly donned their armour; Fenris's had been returned yesterday after Aria had sent it to the smithy for repairs. Then they set out for the barracks, which boasted a large arena dedicated to the perfection of the various arts of fighting. When they showed up, many of the guards who had been assaulting the dummies with a variety of weapons stopped to watch.

Aria and Fenris faced off from opposing ends of the jousting lanes. The rope barrier was down, so they had the entirety of the ring to employ. Aria noticed that some of the guards were taking bets already. She absently wondered who was the odds-on favourite.

Aria snatched up two blunted daggers from the weapon rack near her, and Fenris selected a practice greatsword. Aria swung the daggers in a dizzingly fast array of kata, limbering up her wrists. Her blood surged through her muscles in jubilation. She smiled sweetly at Fenris as they circled each other, and he gave her his trademark smirk.

Aria lunged first, but their blades tangled momentarily with a dull clang as he defended. She whirled and spun, feinting and retreating. Fenris expertly changed angles with his blade, matching her feints with his own, forcing her to adapt and move. She stopped abruptly, mid spin, and her dagger caught his shoulder armour. Before he could react, she'd danced away and her amber eyes sparkled, goading him.

Several of the guards clapped at this and the crowd around them grew. Aria was aware of it, but she tuned it out as Fenris launched a series of devastating attacks, none of which landed, but a few she parried with her daggers. Maker, she thought, he was deceptively strong. The last swing of the combination he dealt went low, his intent to take her out at the knees. She sprang, flipped mid air over his head, and landed her own three-hit combination to his thigh and his side before she evaded once more. Her stomach seemed to unsettle and she stumbled slightly as she stopped, taking a second to calm the sudden nausea.

Fenris spun quickly away from the blows she dealt, the first hit missing, but the next two finding homes. His thigh actually stung from the force of her hit there. He chuckled and his brows lowered in concentration. He came at her again, but after fighting many battles with her, he was able to predict her next move and the greatsword came down hard on the top of her hand, forcing her offhand blade to fall to the sawdust beneath their feet. The perpetually larger crowd clapped at this, and several murmured their appreciation for the fight at hand.

Aria whirled away, flipping the other dagger in the air and catching it as she spun towards him. He narrowly evaded the stab she sent at his hip and she ducked under the counter-swing he launched at her torso. Aria deftly snatched up the dagger she'd dropped and whirled once more to face him. A couple people in the crowd cheered.

He assaulted again, his movements lightning quick, but hers just as swift. She parried every last one of his blows, dancing away just before she backed into a dummy. Fenris's last blow landed squarely on the shoulder of the practice mannequin, but he freed it in time to block the blows she would have rained on him.

Fenris chuckled softly to himself and circled with her once more, his eyes held hers, but his peripheral vision kept those whirling daggers in soft focus. As soon as she moved to strike again, he whipped the sword down and caught her in the ankle. She hopped away, wincing slightly, though a savagely sweet grin spread her lips.

"That actually smarted," she giggled, swirling the daggers again. Another fleeting wave of nausea came but was gone almost as soon as it hit her. She swallowed, grimacing at the horrible, sulfurous aftertaste.

"Do you yield?" he taunted, swinging the sword in amazingly graceful fashion as she did the same with her daggers.

"Oh, we've only just begun," she retorted, launching her own frenzied assault.

He parried her blows, the sound of the dull steel ringing hollowly around them. He managed to deal a swift hit to her side, but her dagger smashed his shoulder in the process, nearly forcing him to drop the sword. He gritted his teeth and noted that she had winced as well.

Aria started circling again, her daggers still in her hands, her primary blade raised slightly over her head, the offhand extended slightly at chest level. He lunged, but she blocked and flipped again, dealing three more unanswered hits to his shoulder blade, side, and thigh.

The crowd applauded loudly at this and several people cheered or hooted their approval. Fueled by their appreciative audience, Aria and Fenris increased the speed of their attacks, though both of them dialed back the ferocity of each of their own considerable strength. Fenris nearly managed to corner her after several minutes of back-and-forth fencing, but at the last minute, she vaulted off the arena's log wall and over him again. He spun even as she flipped and Aria barely evaded the blow he sent at her thigh. She ducked when he swung higher and nimbly got out of the way, drawing gasps from the crowd.

They circled again at the center of the arena, feinting and countering. Aria caught his sword against her offhand blade and with a deft flick of her wrist, she disarmed him. He caught her by the elbow as her main hand blade moved to jab at his side, crossed her arms, and used her momentum to spin her so that her back was to him. He had her offhand blade pressed against her throat, but her primary dagger slid between the joint where his shoulder armour and chest piece merged.

Aria laughed when his eyes regarded the main hand blade, and he softly chuckled as well. It was, in a word, a draw. They would both be dead if they'd had their regular weapons. Aria leaned back in his embrace and turned her head to lightly kiss the side of his mouth. He gently released her, his lips lifted at the corner on one side.

"Bravo!" King Alistair's voice rang out then and he emerged from the crowd. "That was spectacular!"

Aria and Fenris both bowed together, holding hands. "Thank you, your majesty," Fenris amicably stated.

"You both are so...swift!" Ysabel gushed as she emerged from the other side of the audience. "What a wonderful exhibition."

"Here, here!" Bann Teagan called from behind Alistair. "And you help train the Kirkwall Guards? Heaven help anyone who decides to try to invade again!"

Aria laughed at this. "I'll inform the Guard-Captain of your praise."

"Do, indeed," Bann Teagan graciously replied.

"Alright, that's enough standing around," Ser Devon barked at the soldiers then, and Aria smiled at him. He returned the gesture and went back to his unit. "You saw how they fight. Use what you learned!" he said to his men.

"I will hopefully see you both at supper? I imagine you'll want to...change first," Alistair said then as the crowd dispersed.

Aria and Fenris looked at each other and realized both were sweating and covered with dust. Aria giggled. "Yes. It seems that would be the most appropriate course of action."

"Fantastic. I'll await you in my chambers," the King said before his entourage followed him back towards the throne room where court had adjourned for the day.

"Ugh, this part of Ferelden I don't miss," Aria groused once they returned to their suite. She plucked a the laces of Fenris's back armour while he undid his gauntlets.

"Hmm?" Fenris grunted in question.

"The rain. It rains at least seventy percent of the time here," she explained, finishing her task of loosening his laces. She spun and he did the same for her.

"I thought you liked rain," he murmured, his voice husky and deep. It sent chills through her.

"I do. When I'm not tired of being cooped up," she replied.

He chuckled. "It's been one day. I doubt you could go an hour without feeling like you were cooped up."

"True enough," Aria chortled, stepping away from him to finish removing her armour. She inspected her thigh and ankle, where dark bruises were already starting to show. "You're monstrously strong."

He softly laughed, inspecting his hip, ribs, shoulder, and thigh. "And you're damn near imperceptibly quick." His bruises were beginning to show as well.

Aria chuckled at this and finished removing her clothing. She let down her hair and stepped into this marvelous thing called a shower. As she was lathering her hair, she heard the curtain draw back. She quickly rinsed out the soap and smiled when Fenris stepped under the water with her.

They quickly washed each other and selected clean garb from their dwindling assortment of clothing; most of it had been taken to be laundered while they were sparring at the barracks. Aria wore buff-colored, soft suede breeches and an emerald peasant blouse while Fenris opted for black cotton breeches and a black tunic with jade brocade lined with silver thread down the front.

They supped again with Alistair and Ysabel, and informed him of their intent to leave on the morrow, if the weather cleared. Alistair seemed saddened, but he understood.

"It's extremely hard to be still after...seeing so many battles," he commiserated. "I often fear I'll go mad."

"Haha! Indeed," Aria agreed.

"Where will you go?" Ysabel gently queried, sitting next to Alistair on the sofa that faced the King's garden.

Aria and Fenris shared a quick look, trying to gauge each other's reactions. Should they say? Or should they remain anonymous? The wariness in Fenris's eyes answered the question for Aria.

"We're not exactly quite sure. We just...want to travel," Aria hedged.

Ysabel laughed her tinkling bell laugh. "Ah, anonymity. So hard to come by these days, it seems."

"Please don't take offense; I have many enemies, and the less people know about our whereabouts, the better it is for us," Aria apologetically stated.

"I take no offense," Ysabel graciously replied. "I understand completely."

Shortly after that, Aria and Fenris took their leave. They arranged for a coach to be ready in the wee hours of the morning, just before dawn. If it was still storming, they'd wait. If it wasn't, they'd be on their way west, towards Orlais. Fenris calculated the distance of the route and suggested a less predictable path, designed to shake followers should it become necessary.

As Aria lay in his arms on what she hoped would be their last night in Denerim for a while, she thought of home. Not her Ferelden home, but the one in Kirkwall. She'd promised she'd write many people letters—and so far, the only one she'd kept that promise with was Varric. When she moved to get up, Fenris gently restrained her.

"Where are you going?" he murmured sleepily. "Stay."

"I forgot to write some letters. Bethany. Varric. Gamlen. It would be wise to have them sent; Maker knows when I'll next be able to send them."

Fenris grunted in response and rolled onto his stomach. He closed his eyes and quickly drifted back to sleep. Aria sat at the desk and penned the letters. They were short, sweet, and cryptic. Varric's was the longest letter, and Aria reminded Gamlen that the gold wasn't for squandering. She told Bethany little; fearful of what the Knight-Commander might do now that Aria was out of jurisdiction.

As the last letter was sealed, some two hours later, Aria scrambled into bed next to her beloved and fell asleep. Tonight, her dreams were nonexistent. She simply slept.