Chapter FORTY-EIGHT

***A/N: Lyrics contained within belong to Imagine Dragons***

The new saddle proved to be a wonderful asset, as Aria refused to ride in the coach anymore. Aria rode well ahead of Jeran and Fenris. She couldn't stand to be near anyone at all, save Fenris. They'd been riding for nearly two weeks now, and they would reach the city of Montsimmard by nightfall. Aria hardly spoke to anyone but her horse, whom she had named Belle. She'd become reclusive. Silent.

She slept next to Fenris every night, but they rarely spoke. Aria kept her distance from him everywhere else. She couldn't take the pain in his eyes, the steeliness of his demeanor; they were constant reminders of yet another of her failures. Their silences used to be so comfortable; now they were tormented. When they did speak, it was quipped but polite conversation that served utilitarian purposes. Where they had to get before nightfall. What supplies they needed. Nothing personal, nothing loving. Cold. Clinical.

Despite the unrest that plagued Montsimmard in the wake of recently escalated tensions with Ferelden, the city was happy, festive, and alive. Aria went to many taverns, where she danced and drank entire nights away. She refused to let the Orlesian women dress her up or make her wear those ridiculous masks the nobility there seemed to favour but it didn't stop her from joining whole-heartedly in the festivities. She felt her spirit lift in this city of festive joy. Everything was so pretty, to the point of being gaudy and overdone in most cases. Aria wondered how in the world someone like Aveline could have relatives in this country. It was far less solemn than Ferelden and the Free Marches. The Orlesians knew how to live.

One night, as she was beginning another round of revelry, a beautiful young woman in a white dress done to look like a swan invited her to one of the nobility's homes for a dinner party. Her mask was made of pure platinum with white diamonds embedded in it and flanked by goose feathers. Aria didn't bother learning the girl's name—she couldn't pronounce it anyway. She did however accept the invitation and found herself whisked away.

When Aria arrived at the enormous estate, she was well-received. The Duke, that's what she called him anyway, sang her praises and stated that he'd read much of her exploits in Kirkwall from books his son had brought back with him. His son was a merchant who was familiar with Varric Tethras and thought highly of the Champion of Kirkwall. Unfortunately, his son was currently in Orzammar, brokering a trade deal with one of the dwarven houses.

They asked about her companions, who she learned were also well-beloved, and they were curious about her elven consort, who had shown up only after he'd been told Aria had departed with the Duke's daughter to attend a party. At first, the doormen wouldn't let him in but when they told the Duke about the well-dressed, very angry elf at the door, the Duke demanded they fetch Fenris as a guest of honour. The buzz around the large, opulent dining room erupted at this—elves were slaves, not guests of honour. Aria bristled at this and shut down anyone who talked ill of him before he was seated. Astonishingly enough, they changed their tunes, especially when they finally saw him.

Fenris joined them in the dining hall, stoic and fierce, sitting silently next to Aria as they ate. Aria regaled them with stories of battle, receiving a standing ovation when she finished retelling the battle with the Arishok. Several of those in attendance were familiar with Varric's work as well—and demanded that Aria sing for them. She finally relented, apologizing in advance, as the songs she sang were usually sad. They pressed, asking her for one of her original works, as Varric said she was quite the songstress. Inwardly, Aria cursed the dwarf for his storytelling—she hadn't sang for a crowd in eons, not since the last summer solstice she'd attended in Lothering some seven or eight years previous.

Will you hold the line
When every one of them is giving up or giving in? Tell me
In this house of mine
Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me
Will the stars align?
Will Andraste step in? Will she save us from our sin? Will she?
'Cause this house of mine stands strong

That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
And you're standing on the edge, face up 'cause you're a

Natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you're a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you're a natural

Will somebody
Let me see the light within the dark trees shadowing?
What's happening?
Looking through the glass find the wrong within the past knowing
Oh, we are the youth
Cut until it bleeds, inside a world without the peace facing
A bit of the truth, the truth

That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
And you're standing on the edge, face up 'cause you're a

Natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you're a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you're a natural

Deep inside me, I'm fading to black, I'm fading
Took an oath by the blood of my hand, won't break it
I can taste it, the end is upon us, I swear
I'm gonna make it
I'm gonna make it

Natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you're a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you're a natural

"Oh you simply must write that down! It's perfection!" the Duke's daughter said once the cheers and clapping had subsided. "I've got so many ideas to set that to a dance! Serah Hawke, you're a marvel!"

Aria bowed and took her seat with a flourish, happy to down the wonderful Orlesian wine placed before her. She nodded at them all in turn and tucked into the meal. Beside her, Fenris silently ate and drank. When another of the noble's took a turn at telling of a trade deal gone hilariously awry, Aria chanced a look at the elf.

His eyes met hers and she tentatively reached over the table, covering his hand with hers. Fenris didn't flinch away, but rather regarded her with shock. She squeezed gently, offering him a smile, and he returned the gesture. She may have failed him, but she wouldn't let these vultures insult him or demean him. She could use her stature to ensure that they respected him, and she would see him respected. She quickly leaned in and kissed his cheek, then returned to the meal.

When they left that night, Aria had several invitations to other dinner parties and balls. She promised to attend those she could, and to her surprise, several of them demanded Fenris's attendance as well. Fenris led her up to the suite they'd reserved at one of the high end inns in town. Once inside, they undressed and lay next to each other in the bed. Neither of them said anything, but Aria kissed him on the cheek before she settled down to sleep.

After two weeks of dinner parties and networking in Montsimmard, Aria was bitten by the travel bug again. Jeran and Fenris followed her around the southern coast of Lake Celestine. They stayed in Velun, then Val Royeaux, and eventually, they headed back east towards the Free Marches, boarding a ship near Cumberland and sailing back to Kirkwall.

Aria wrote short letters to all of her companions back home in Kirkwall , letting them know she'd be home within the month. She also wrote to King Alistair and Ysabel, outlining her travels and wishing them well. In her letter to them, she issued an invitation that should they ever visit Kirkwall, she'd be happy to keep them in her home for their stay. Given their preferences, Aria was certain they'd take her up on her offer.

It was very late in the evening when they reached Kirkwall again, after nearly three months of being gone. Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana helped unload the coach at Aria's estate, then Jeran and Fenris continued from there to Fenris's mansion. Bodahn took her horse to the Hightown livery for her. Aria was her normal silent self and went to her chambers as soon as was socially acceptable, using her weariness as justification to do so. She drew water for a bath and set it to heating on the coals and then picked up her journal.

She re-read the last five or six entries, heartbreak returning anew as the death toll of her loved ones chimed in her head. Father. Carver. Mother. And an unnamed infant. Her son. Telindra had used the word 'he'. Aria lost a son. Fenris's son. She couldn't write about that. Not yet, anyway.

Orana came in to check on the water and brought her a freshly made bunch of soaps and lotions from Bethany. "You look...fierce, Mistress. I trust your travels were pleasant?"

"Fierce? That's...interesting," Aria softly replied, pulling her robe more closely about her.

"I meant it as a compliment, Mistress. You look in fighting shape. Hale. Robust. And very, very beautiful."

Aria laughed slightly at this. "You are too kind, Orana. How is that water?"

"Not as hot as you would like, I'm sure," she giggled. "Best leave it on for a few more moments."

"Thank you, Orana."

"Will that be all, Mistress?"

"Yes. Don't worry for me. Go to bed. You have done far too much for me this evening as it is," Aria sadly stated.

"Good night, Mistress."

"Orana... Call me Aria. Or Hawke. Please. I don't much care for the title," Aria quietly said. After having seen how elves were treated in Orlais and Ferelden, still, Aria didn't want any ties to that part of the culture. Orana was her... Employee and, maybe even family. She didn't want there to be that dynamic of slave and master in her home. Ever.

"O-of course! Aria. Good night, Aria," Orana replied with a curtsy. She smiled widely, her jewel-like eyes glittering in the light of the hearth before she left the room.

Aria closed the door behind her and went over to sit on her bed. She contemplated the embers in the fireplace as they glowed about the kettles. Several moments passed and in those moments, Aria thought of everything, and nothing. Her body was weary, yes, but every muscle fiber tensed in anxiety. Much of their travels seemed a blur to her after Telindra confirmed her worst fears. She drowned the time and pain away, lost herself in the joyous celebrations of others, and moved on when she pleased. Always moving, always engaged, never idle.

But here... Now... In the warm recesses of her private chambers, she was alone to deal with the pain. She wasn't on the run anymore. She couldn't keep this up and she knew, she'd have to deal with it sometime. Part of her told her she was being silly. They could try again, couldn't they? It wasn't her fault, really, was it? And another part of her told her this would likely happen again, that she had to change lifestyles before that could ever occur. She couldn't be the Champion of Kirkwall and be a mother. The two things were completely incongruous.

Still another part of her screamed in agony at the failure, the loss. She had been pregnant, and she didn't know. She had never gotten sick, not like she had always heard a woman did when with child. Sure, she'd had mild bouts of nausea but those were easily explained away by something else. Same with the pain. She had been so focused on everything else in her life that she lost track of her own health.

She abruptly stood and filled her tub, then prepared herself for bathing. Aria contemplated the ceiling as the thick foam surrounded her. She realized the scent she had chosen was the one that Fenris had given her the materials for many months ago, on her last birthday. Almost a year ago, in fact. Maker's breath, her birthday was going to be coming up soon!

The thought brought her to tears again and she couldn't help the way her body curled in on itself, her arms secured around her knees. How could she deal with this? Out there on the road, she was constantly distracted from thinking or feeling anything but the here and now. There was no time to dwell, or to reflect. There was just... Action.

Here, in her little safe haven of luxury, that's all she had time to do. She felt as though if she were to move, if her hands were to slip, her entire being would fly to pieces. She had never given the idea of children much attention. She had always assumed Bethany would be the mother with a gaggle of kids. Now that she had conceived and lost one, thoughts of what might have been overwhelmed her.

What would he have looked like? Would he have her amber eyes like hers or Fenris's emerald eyes? Would he be fair of skin? Would he have had a beautiful voice? What would his laugh had sounded like? What would his name have been?

That last thought shattered her. She sobbed into her knees, clutching them tighter against her as the water covered her chin and mouth. She wept for some time, every minute dragging by with excruciating slowness. He should have had a name. Something written. Something tangible. But no one but Fenris and she knew he had existed at all. A nameless, lost child.

Gingerly, Aria stretched out in the tub as the worst of the pain had passed. Exhaustion slammed into her with the force of a gaatlok bomb. She finished washing and rinsing quickly. Once her hair was wrapped in a soft towel and she'd donned her robe, Aria slipped beneath the covers and finally fell asleep.

For the next few days, Aria was content to remain in her chambers. She received only her closest friends. Bodahn fielded several polite declinations for Aria, who received many invitations to nobles' events. Isabela was the first to call on her and Aria gave her a few new items of fine jewelry she had bought in Orlais with the pirate captain in mind. Merrill came the following day but her visit was brief; she was still angry Hawke had kept the arulin'holm. Varric was there nearly every evening for supper. Finally, Varric decided to call Aria out on her reclusiveness.

"Dammit Aria," Varric said as Bodahn and Orana cleared the table and fetched dessert.

Aria quizzically looked over at him. "What?"

"I get the need for secrecy, but if you don't tell me what the hell happened while you were in Orlais, I'm going to have to torture you for answers. The elf won't talk," Varric quipped in good humour.

Aria sighed. "There's nothing to be told."

"Bullshit!" Varric roared, nearly unsettling his chair as he abruptly stood.

Aria jumped slightly and instinctively pushed her chair back from the table. "Why do you have to know? It's not something I want published in the next guard quarterly!"

"I don't publish every sordid sodding detail of your life!"

She sighed. "Close enough! Even the Orlesians know about the Champion of Kirkwall! Some of them have subscriptions to your guard quarterly!"

"They like my stories in Orlais?" Varric incredulously asked, plopping back down the chair. "Well I'll be a nug's aunt."

Aria grunted. "They love your stories! Let's go in the study after dessert. I'll—I'll tell you then."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Orana had baked a beautiful apple pie for dessert. Varric was so impressed with it that he ate two big pieces. Aria tried her best to finish her piece, just to please Orana. Her appetite had greatly waned these past several days. When they finished, Aria and Varric retreated to her upstairs study.

They sat near the hearth and Aria poured them each a glass of her favourite wine. She sat next to Varric and took a sip of it before she spoke.

"When we were on our way out of Ferelden, I took ill," Aria quietly stated, her eyes fixed on the stem of the glass as she rotated it between her fingers. "I took ill in a way that only a woman can."

"I'm afraid you'll have to be clearer than that, Aria," Varric kindly stated, leaning forward toward her as he spoke.

"I was pregnant before I fought the Arishok," she whispered, the last word falling on a soft, restrained sob.

Varric sat back and sighed heavily. "Oh Maker," he tenderly said, "I'm so sorry."

Aria failed to rein in the next sob and she abruptly stood. She paced over to one of the tables and pulled out a kerchief. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose before she sat back down.

"It would have been a boy, this apostate midwife told me," Aria managed after a moment. "Fenris and I had a son we never got to hold. Never got to meet."

Varric leaned forward and clutched her hand. "I know... I know it must be hard, but Aria—you can try again."

Aria vigorously shook her head. "No... No, I'm pretty sure Fenris hates me. Or at least...is disappointed in me. I think that's worse."

Varric shook his head and firmly squeezed her hand. "That elf is absolutely fucking crazy about you. I honestly think, and this is no exaggeration madame, that you're the only thing in this world he gives a shit about. The only thing."

Aria lifted her gaze and met his. Tears fell silently down her cheeks in hot rivulets. "I failed him, too."

"You didn't fail him. You have never failed. Hawke, how you survive is beyond me. I know you. I know you're the most skillful, resourceful, ambitious, biggest-hearted person I've ever met. You did not fail. The world failed you."

Aria broke down crying again and Varric engulfed her in a hug. They pulled apart when Bodahn came up the stairs, followed closely by Anders. Maker, Aria thought as the apostate healer joined them, he looked bad. There were hollows under his eyes and they were glassy. His hair was limp, and though it was clean, lacked any sort of luster at all. He appeared to have lost quite a bit of weight, though his movements were crisp and precise.

"Why are you crying?" Anders asked once Bodahn was out of earshot, and he strode immediately up to her. "There's so much speculation going on."

"Do you want to tell him or do you want me to do it?" Varric quietly asked her.

"I will," Aria whispered. She looked up at Anders and took a deep drink from her glass. "Before I fought the Arishok, I was pregnant."

"What?" Anders asked in horror. "Oh Aria, no... Did you know?"

Aria shook her head and bit her lip to keep from weeping. She took several deep, calming breaths before she was able to continue. "When we left Ferelden for Orlais, I fell terribly ill."

"Say no more," Anders kindly stated. "I've heard of and seen the terrible events before and I grieve for you."

Aria sobbed a few times before she could get a grip again. "It was...it was a boy," she managed, then completely broke down. Anders and Varric both held her, soothingly stroking her hair or reassuring her.

"How did you know it was a boy?" Anders asked after a few moments.

Aria swiped angrily at her tears and snotty nose. "An apostate midwife told me."

At this, Anders sighed. "If you'll permit me, I can run back to my clinic via your shortcut and fetch some things that will ease your discomfort and also make you more fertile in the process."

Aria shook her head. "That was...a couple months ago at least. I'm normal."

"And your cycles?"

"Really? You're asking-"

"As a physician," Anders gently replied.

"Heavier than normal, but on time," Aria whined. "I really don't want to talk about this. Not... Not with you two."

Varric sighed and finished his glass of wine, then bowed. "I'll take my leave, madame. But you really should talk to him. And the elf. I can't believe I said that." With that, Varric took his leave, and Aria and Anders sat across from each other at the desk.

"What happened?" Anders asked, reaching across the table to grasp her hand.

She squeezed back in response and hung her head. "When we left Denerim for Orlais, I took ill. And I was...bleeding. Horrendously. Health potions seemed to help but nowhere near as well as they should have."

"They're not meant for sustaining two lives at once," Anders gently said.

"I didn't know!"

"It's okay. Then what happened?"

"An innkeeper walked in on me washing my clothes and she helped me. Then she gave me moon tea."

Anders nodded. "The wisest decision. It was most likely going to die anyway, as much as it grieves me to say. Aria, this isn't your fault. You can't blame yourself. And Fenris... Varric is right. You need to talk to him."

Aria looked up into his warm, caramel eyes and he offered her a kind smile. "It's odd to hear you say that."

Anders squeezed her hand again. "You love him. He loves you. You...complement each other. And I cannot bear to see you so unhappy."

"I hate this! I feel so...so..." she abruptly stood, unsettling the chair and sending it clattering to the floor. She kicked it. "Weak! And... and... Damaged! I'm fucking broken, Anders. Why would he still want me?"

"You are not weak. You are not damaged. You are not broken," Anders gently said as he stood. He picked up the chair and righted it, then enveloped her in a friendly hug. "And he wants you because he loves you."

Aria felt the healing white light flow through her. She closed her eyes and leaned against him while he worked. Her lower belly felt as though she'd just done a line of shots; warm, almost hot, tingly. After a moment, he pulled away to look at her and Aria was startled to see tears in his eyes.

"If you must blame anyone for the loss of that baby, you can blame the Arishok. I wish I had known. I wouldn't have allowed you to fight him. None of us would have. I must...I must take my leave now, Aria, but I strongly suggest that you cease this wallowing and this despair. People want to see you. They want to know you. They want to share in your story. You've made history. Let them help you enjoy life. And go talk to Fenris. If not tonight, then first thing tomorrow," Anders kindly stated, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Do you still need to go to your clinic?" Aria whispered when he pulled away.

"Well, that depends. I tell you what; when you've talked to Fenris and you're ready to try again, come see me. I'll give you a remedy that will ensure a healthy baby, so long as you can manage keeping out of a fight for nine months or so," he softly replied. "Good night, Aria."

"Good night, Anders. And thank you," she whispered in response.

He squeezed her shoulders and she could see tears forming again in his eyes. Before she could do anything though, he bounded down the stairs and went to the cellar where he could more quickly and safely access his clinic. Aria stood in the study for a long time, staring out the window.

This was all so stupid. She was being an idiot. But she wouldn't go tonight. She'd go in the morning. Make a day of it, ask him to disappear with her somewhere. Maker, she missed him. She'd been spoiled in their travels, sleeping next to him every night. Making love whenever they pleased...at least, before she realized she was pregnant. It had been at least three months since the last time they'd made love.

Sighing, Aria poured herself another glass of wine and finished it, then went back to her chambers. She crawled into bed fully clothed. She watched the embers in the hearth, entranced. She hadn't realized she'd even fallen asleep until Bodahn gently shook her awake.

"Aria, a messenger has arrived. You are needed. Quickly, now. I've got your armour all prepared."

Aria scrambled out of bed and hastily donned the armour, then fetched her favourite twin daggers she'd brought home from Orlais. They were wicked little blades, with several enchantments. She hadn't gotten to use them yet, and oddly, she was excited to now have the chance.

"Varric sent a messenger. It would appear there is some trouble at the Hanged Man regarding...Fenris," Bodahn explained as they bounded down the stairs together.

Aria finished tugging on the second of her greaves and went out the door. Her horse, Belle, waited for her, already tacked up. She mounted and quickly rode to the well-known bar. Varric, Anders, and Aveline awaited her outside.

"What's going on?" Aria asked as she dismounted and tied off her horse.

"It would appear... Fenris's sister is in Kirkwall. He's on his way now to meet her here. I figured it for a trap and decided it would be most prudent to have a welcoming party present," Varric said as Aria came up the steps to join them.

"He's just inside. We—we didn't tell him we sent for you," Aveline added as Varric opened the door.

"Great," Aria groaned.

In the foyer of the tavern, the five of them crowded together. Fenris's eyes sent emerald daggers at Aria when their gazes met.

"I told you I didn't want her involved!" Fenris roared at Varric.

"A little bird said I should go to the Hanged Man tonight. Apparently that little bird was right," Aria snapped at the elf. "What are you doing? You know this is a trap!"

"What was I supposed to do? You've done nothing but shut me out! I'm not your...your little plaything that you can throw away as soon as times get rough-"

"How dare you!" Aria spat back, stepping toward him.

Anders and Aveline restrained her while Varric corralled Fenris against the opposite wall. Aria glared at Fenris and he returned it with just as much anger.

"This isn't getting us anywhere, Hawke," Aveline reproachfully stated.

"Where is she? Your sister?" Anders asked Fenris.

"Back table, in the alcove near the stairs. Her name is Varania," Fenris curtly answered, his eyes still leveled on Aria. She continued glaring.

"We'll cover you. If this is a trap..." Aveline started.

"It most certainly is a trap," Fenris snarled, cutting her off. "But I...thank you for being here. I'm going to put an end to Danarius."

"Go. Talk to your sister," Varric said then.

They watched in silence as Fenris strode lithely across the tavern. The four of them followed and assumed tactical positions. Isabela was on guard at the bar, her fingers dancing anxiously on the hilt of one of her daggers. She nodded once at Aria and quirked a salacious grin. Aria winked back and returned to watching the scene before her.

The elf that sat at the table was stunning. She had fiery deep auburn hair and the same verdant eyes, and her robes were finely crafted of soft suede and silk in gorgeous greens and maroon. She turned and offered Fenris a sad smile as he walked up.

"It really is you," she softly said.

Fenris froze and looked at her. Aria couldn't see his eyes, but his posture stiffened as though he'd been struck. "Varania? I... I remember you," he said, his voice taking on notes of hurtful reminiscing. "We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me..."

"Leto. That is your name," Varania answered for him as she stood. Her eyes took in the room and for a split second, they rested on Aria. Her posture was off; she seemed... Sad and... She looked back to Fenris.

"What's wrong?" Fenris asked then, his hand going instinctively to the hilt of his greatsword. He looked around the room. "Why are you so-"

And that's when Aria saw the hallway upstairs darken. She lunged and grabbed Fenris's arm. "We have to get out of here, now-"

"Ah, my little Fenris. Predictable as always," came a voice from the top of the stairs leading to the Hanged Man's rooms for rent.

Aria stepped in front of Fenris, both daggers drawn. The elf seemed to be in shock at the sight of his former master and Aria wasn't letting Danarius win. No. No, this ended now. He couldn't have Fenris. Fenris was his own man as much as he was hers. She wasn't letting him go while there was still blood in her veins and air in her lungs.

"I'm...sorry it came to this, Leto," Varania said from behind them.

His terror finally shattered, Fenris rounded on his sister. "You led him here!"

"Now, now, Fenris. Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial Citizen should," Danarius said, shuffling up to Varania's side. He had cold grey eyes, lank, long salt-and-pepper hair, tied back, and the cloying stench of death clung to him like a second skin. Everything about him made Aria's skin crawl.

Aria flicked her daggers in her most vigorous kata and kept herself somewhat between the two men. Danarius's guards watched her like a rabid dog eyes a cut of meat. She grinned wickedly back at them.

"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius! I won't let you kill me to get them!" Fenris roared at the magister.

At this, Danarius amusedly chuckled. "Oh-ho, Fenris. How little you know, my pet," the magister silkily stated, the familiarity of his fondness towards the elf turned Aria's stomach. He turned to face her, as though he'd heard her thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was oily and made her feel as though she needed to scour every inch of her body to get the filth of it off. "And this is your new mistress, then? Champion of Kirkwall. Impressive."

Aria took one deliberate, threatening step forward. "Fenris belongs to no one but himself!"

Danarius grinned greasily. "Do I detect a note of jealousy? It's not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?" The suggestive chuckle that left his throat was disgusting.

Again Aria's stomach turned at the thought of what Danarius might have done to Fenris. It ignited the ravenous urge to kill that she'd honed to lethal precision over the past few years. He'd never hurt Fenris again.

"Shut your mouth, Danarius!" Fenris snapped at him, stepping up beside Aria; his brands glowed and Aria could hear the sizzle that bespoke the gathering of devastating power emanate from him.

Danarius huffed testily. "The word is 'master'," he icily commanded, his staff flitting up defensively.

"Here it comes," Varric groaned.

The magister disappeared in a cloud of smoke and the bar's non-combatant patrons fled to the walls. The guards lunged forward and all the Void broke loose. Anders cast debilitating elemental spells to stall the onslaught while Fenris, Aveline, Varric, and Isabela launched headlong into the fray with annihilating force.

Aria whirled and danced, parrying blows and flipping over her foes to knife them in the backs. She kept her allies in her peripherals while she assaulted the guards. She pressed ever forward, seeking Danarius at the top of the stairs through a path of bodies. He grinned wickedly at her and spun his staff lazily within his protective enchanted bubble of energy.

She had just reached the steps when Danarius summoned a handful of rage demons and at least thrice that in shades. Vengeance renewed, Aria turned into a hellish tornado, her daggers ceaselessly slashing through the puppets. Just when they thought they'd killed all of the demons, hordes of undead flooded the tavern, and more shades appeared.

Aria spun and spied a familiar at her back. She pushed her own against them, realizing instantly that it was Fenris, and they fought together, back to back. They tore through the ranks and Danarius screamed. He launched terrifying spirit spells at them, three of them hitting Isabela mid-rush. Anders tended to her immediately while the rest of them closed in.

Danarius was stunned from the flank and partially entombed in a sudden explosion of thorny bush branches. Aria almost cheered; Merrill's being here made it a party. Aria sprinted forward up the steps as fast as she could, taking them two at a time. She launched herself in the air, flipped, and came down behind the immobilized magister. In one swift move, she buried one of her daggers to the hilt in his side while the other deftly rested at his throat, worrying the hairs of his stubble terribly.

Aria's chin rested intimately against his neck as the thorns retreated and Danarius slumped against her. She looked through her lashes at Fenris, murderous intent setting the ocher depths of her irises ablaze. Fenris stalked up to them, his lyrium brands crackling ferociously.

"You should have just stayed away," Aria whispered, planting a kiss on the man's cheek before shoving him at Fenris's feet.

Fenris dropped his sword and savagely lifted Danarius by the throat. "You are no longer my master!" he bellowed as his other hand lifted and plunged through the magister's chest. Fenris squeezed viciously and twisted, a spray of blood covering his chest armour and face. He ripped his hand back out, clutching the magister's heart, then dropped the still-dying corpse to the floor. He spit on his face then spun to face the sister who had betrayed him.

Aria dashed up to Fenris when she saw the look in his eyes. The beast was completely off its leash within him, and he was no longer the little wolf. He was full, unbeaten, unchallenged Alpha. And now, he was going to exact retribution on the person who had sold him out.

"I had no choice, Leto!" Varania sobbed, her hands raised in defense.

"Stop calling me that!" Fenris yelled, hurt lacing his undertone as he stopped but a pace or two from her.

"He was going to make me his apprentice. I would have been a magister!" she sobbed.

"You sold out your own brother to become a magister!" Fenris snarled back.

"Your sister's a mage? You bloody hypocrite!" Anders roared then from behind the elf, his features twisted in disgust. "You really are just jealous!"

"You have no idea what we went through. What I've had to do since Mother died. This was my only chance!" Varania pleaded.

"And now you'll have no chance at all," Fenris venomously stated, closing the distance further.

She stumbled away from him and cowered, her eyes meeting Aria's helplessly. "Please don't do this! Please tell him to stop!" Varania screamed.

"Wait!" Aria cried, moving to stand between them. "Don't kill her."

"Why not? She was ready to see me killed!" Fenris rounded on her. "What is she to me, other than just one more tool of the magisters?" He turned back to his sister as he spoke, his eyes filled with terrible loathing.

Aria tentatively stepped towards him, gesturing towards Varania. "Fenris... She's your sister. Your family."

Varric stepped forward then. "Elf...Fenris... Don't. It won't help. Trust me," he somberly stated, and something in his tone twisted a knife in Aria's heart. Varric knew a thing or two about being betrayed by a sibling.

Fenris balled his hands into fists tensely at his sides and he squeezed his eyes closed as he bowed his head. A moment later, he looked up at Varania, malice and disgust darkening his emerald gaze. "Get out!" he spat at her.

Varania bolted for the door, but stopped cold and spun to face him as soon as she was out of striking distance. She drew herself up, also tall for an elf, and leveled her own bright green eyes on her brother. "You said you didn't ask for this," she snarled. "But that's not true. You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won, you used the boon to have Mother and me freed."

They all turned to Fenris, surprised. Aria felt as though she'd taken an icy blast to the chest. It was his darkest secret and now, everyone knew it. Much to Fenris's chagrin, that included Anders knowing. Fenris clutched his head in his hands then rounded back on Varania.

"Why are you telling me this?!" he torturedly asked.

"Freedom was no boon," she icily continued. "I look on you now, and I think you received the better end of the bargain."

She departed and Fenris hung his head. He slowly moved towards Aria.

"I thought discovering my past would bring a sense of belonging. But I was wrong." He lifted his head, his eyes full of hatred and sorrow. "Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim," he said, turning his face away from her, his shaggy hair shielding his eyes from her view. "I am alone."

Aria grabbed his arm and spun him to face her, her other hand going to his shoulder. She leaned forward so that her forehead rested against his. "I'm here, Fenris," she softly stated.

He cupped her face in his hands and the tender look that took his eyes shattered her heart. He dropped one hand to her hip and pulled her to him, his other hand curving around the back of her neck, fingers buried in her hair. They stood like that for quite some time, just staring into each other's eyes. The silent conversation lifted her spirit and restored her faith in him.

Fenris drew her back so that their foreheads touched again, their heads bowed. "You heard what Varania said," he quietly stated, more for the eavesdropper's benefits than for Aria's. "I wanted these. I fought for them." His voice quavered as he continued, pulling away to look down into Aria's eyes. "I feel unclean, like this magic is not only etched into my skin, but also stained my soul." He stepped away from her then and eyed the door. "Let's go. I need to get out of here."

He kept his arm about her waist as they stepped over the destroyed tavern's broken tables and chairs. Aria stopped at the door and tossed the coin purse at her belt to Corff at the bar.

"Remodeling is on me," she said, bowing her head to him.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Hawke," Corff laughed, catching the purse.

They walked together to Aria's horse. Fenris mounted first, then held his hand out for Aria to grab. She helped him haul her up behind him and they rode back up to Hightown. Fenris rode past Aria's estate and headed instead to his own. He brought the horse into the back lawn and removed her tack while Aria watched from a decrepit low bench.

Once Belle was taken care of, they went inside. Aria followed Fenris up to his bedroom and sat on the bed while he lit the lamps and torches. He even lit the candles on the bedside tables and desk. When he was done, he offered her his hand. She took it and stood, then followed him onto the balcony. They looked out over the city together, hands resting on the railing, fingers entwined. Rolling across the harbour from the southwest was a front of storm clouds that occasionally flashed with lightning. Gentle rumbles of thunder greeted their ears, carried on the stiffening salty breeze.

"What did I do wrong?" he murmured some time later.

She turned to look at him, her brows knit together with anxiety. "What?"

"What did I do wrong?" he repeated, slightly more insistent. "You've been so cold. Detached. What did I do wrong?"

Aria cupped his face in her hands and his arms slipped around her waist. "You did nothing wrong, Fenris. I...didn't handle all that business well. I never want to hurt you and... And I failed you. I couldn't stand myself."

He cocked his head to the side a little and his eyes were earnest. "Aria, you didn't fail me. Do you love me?"

"With all my heart and soul, Fenris," Aria whispered, her voice catching on a suppressed sob.

"I believe you," he softly rasped, lowering his lips to hers.

Aria loved how one searing, sweet kiss from him drove all the sorrow and weariness from her in its lava-like presence, relentless in its onslaught of her senses. She clung to him, barely aware of his hands lifting her buttocks. She lethargically ensnared his waist with her legs, her mind drowning in the power of his kiss.

He carried her back inside and collapsed above her on the bed, his fingers deftly plucked at the laces of her shoulder armour while he kissed her. His other hand slid from her hip to her knee and rested in the crook there, dragging her hips flush with his as he drove against her. Aria undid his armour at the same time, every kiss taking her higher and making her all the more desperate for him.

Fenris tore his mouth from hers to lavish kisses against the sinewy column of her throat. Aria arched against him, nearly gasping for breath as she tossed his shoulder spikes across the room. She immediately started on his chest piece, her movements frenzied. She moaned as his teeth grazed her skin just under her jaw. His tongue followed, soft and swift, driving her to near madness.

He undid and tossed her shoulder armour onto his and started in on her chest piece. He removed hers before she undid his, and his hands slid aggressively up her sides, frantically searching for her bare skin. Aria writhed under him, her lips hungrily taking his once more. He moaned against her mouth, undoing the laces on the hip armour she wore in the form of a pleated metal skirt over black mithril leggings.

Aria finally succeeded with his chest armour and peeled it off him with hot ardor, flinging it to clatter somewhere on the floor across the room. Fenris succeeded with her hip armour at nearly the same instant, guiding her buttocks off the bed with one hand, the other tugging the untied skirt out from under her. He smoothed his freed hand up her abdomen, his torso rearing above her so that he could look down into her eyes.

For the hundred thousandth time in the length he'd known her, he was awestruck by the fierce vitality she possessed. Her alabaster skin had finally darkened, but only just. The touch of gold lent her skin a glow that hypnotized him as he studied the lines of sinew from her throat to her collarbone and the intriguing hollow that existed where they joined. Her eyes were intensely bright though currently heavy-lidded, and thick-lashed. The flush that took her cheeks set his blood afire all over again, a physical display of desire. Desire—for him. He slipped his hand under her shirt while her fingers smoothed up his thighs to his waistband. Fenris groaned when the side of her palm brushed his belly, just above his belt buckle, the touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through him.

He looked down at her, the heat in his gaze searing her to the bone. She stared back, her breath coming in quick gasps. Aria finished unlacing and unbuckling his breeches, her eyes darting down as she smoothed her hands under his shirt then and sat up, taking the shirt up and over his head as she moved. Fenris tugged hers off as well and drew her so that their bodies softly intertwined on their sides. He wrapped his arms around her and his fingers expertly unclasped her brassiere. She sat up and shrugged it off her shoulders.

Aria moved to straddle him as he sat up and slid so that his back rested against the headboard. She guided his hands in unlacing her mithril leggings, his lips caressing her belly, just below her breasts. Aria buried her fingers in his hair as he feathered kisses up the valley between her well-endowed chest, then across her collarbone to her neck again. He pulled her body to his, the skin of their torsos sweetly abrading one another.

Fenris tugged the top of the leggings and her underwear down and she lifted her hips to help. He looked down hungrily at her when she tugged his own down, and lithely finished removing them along with his boxers. Aria sat up again, smoothing her hand up his abdomen to his chest. He caught her hand at his heart and held it there, willing her to understand. It only ever belonged to her. No one else.

Their gazes met; his of green fire, hers of molten amber. She understood, nodding slightly. He savagely kissed her, pushing her back beneath him on the bed. Aria returned the fervor, a soft whimper escaping her lips when his hand slid up her inner thigh to the silken, wet heat at the apex of her thighs. Then, before she could register anything else, he was inside her, possessing her. She cried out at the intrusion, her body encasing him in a sweet, tight grip. His breath hissed from between his teeth as he buried his face against her collarbone.

"You're mine," he feverishly whispered against the skin on her neck, and he rolled so that she straddled his hips. His hands guided her hips in moving over him, a slow, deep rhythm that his consciousness could barely withstand.

She looked down at him, leaning back to take him deeper for a few rotations of her hips, savoring both how he felt inside her and how his eyes closed in ecstasy. His hips countered hers, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. She lowered herself over him and dragged her tongue up the lyrium brand that ran over his sternum, up his throat, to his chin. He loosed a guttural groan when her lips took his, her arms wrapped around his neck. She pulled away when one of his hands slipped between them, seeking the sensitive, aching knot of nerves between her thighs. She gasped as his fingers found their mark, matching the rhythm their hips kept. She tilted his chin up from where he rested his head above her breast, needing to see his eyes, his need. Their eyes met briefly before he dropped his head again, this time his mouth claiming the sensitive crest on one of her breasts. Aria arched against him, her fingers buried in the hair at the nape of his neck. Fenris suckled her gently, his teeth lightly grazing her skin every few seconds.

When he released her breast, Fenris rolled them again so that he was on top. He pulled her hips toward him and plunged almost painfully deep within her, holding her knee against his side to give himself an anchor as he drove hard into her. Aria's world was rocked again when he sought her mouth with his once more. Their tongues waged an erotic war against one another while they countered each other's hips, driving the other ever higher.

He drove harder and faster, and Aria couldn't fight the release that suddenly erupted. She cried his name and clung to him until his body shuddered violently and he pinned her beneath him. Aria's body relaxed as he collapsed over her, beautifully spent.

Fenris rested his head on her chest, their hands joined on either side of them. Aria closed her eyes and savored the feel of him, the heat that spilled into her core. He stayed there, embedded deeply, his lyrium brands pulsing with his heartbeat. A sudden, very loud crack of thunder snapped them from their trance. Aria giggled as Fenris disentangled himself from her and ran over to close the balcony doors. He blew out all the candles and extinguished the lamps and torches, then he and Aria slipped under the covers together.

Aria rested her head just over his heart and stared out the large glass doors that led to the balcony. Lightning lit the sky, heavy rain began to fall, and thunder sounded occasionally. They laid there together in their first comfortable silence since Denerim. Aria was just beginning to doze when a thought occurred to her.

"You don't have to run anymore," she whispered.

Fenris lowered his lips to her hair. He kissed the top of her head, then nuzzled her. "It is a strange and wonderful feeling."

"You're finally free," Aria sighed, rolling away from him and onto her back to contemplate the ceiling.

"But not alone."

Aria smiled at him and rolled to face him, her fingertips lazily caressing his chest in swirling, whimsical patterns. "Not alone."

"You're all I have left," he whispered, drawing his index finger down the bridge of her nose. She nipped at it when it reached her lips, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

"You're all I have left, too."

At this, Fenris rolled on top of her once more. "I'd very much like to try again."

"No complaints here," Aria giggled.