Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. If I did, I'd probably have more money.

Chapter 4

"Well?" I pressed after a moment of silence, in which Magister Azriel had taken his eyes off of me and had contented himself to take dainty spoonfulls of porridge. I knew why he was ignoring me. It was to prove that I was not worth his full attention and, therefore, someone who should hold their tongue. I had known teachers who were like that. They had learned quickly that that tactic didn't work on me, because all it ever did was make me mad. If you can't already tell, I have anger issues.

He smiled after a moment and pushed his now-empty porcelain bowl away from him. Steel gray eyes flickered to mine, as if they were searching for something. He reached out his hand to the side, eyes still locked on mine as he did so, and waited. From behind him, Wolf-Eyes retrieved a small, white stone that looked vaguely like an opal of sorts from a leather pouch. He placed the stone in the Magister's hand and stepped back.

I stared at Wolf-Eyes, trying in vain to remember his face. I had seen him without the mask only yesterday, but I couldn't recall what he looked like, other than his eyes. I guessed more than knew that he had dark hair, but other than that I couldn't tell.

"Hold out your hand, child," Azriel commanded. I turned my attention back to him and saw that he held the stone out to me. I blinked in confusion. The stone, which had been a milky white before, had transformed into a bright blue and was now glowing brightly. I gave him a suspicious glare and kept my hands firmly in my lap.

"Why?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

Magister Azriel raised his thin eyebrows at me. He drew back his arm and held out the stone for Wolf-Eyes to take. Wolf-Eyes picked up the stone, and it turned back to its original white at his touch. Then, in only a few strides, Wolf-Eyes crossed the room over to where I was sitting. The black mask he wore hid his face from me, and his eyes were equally expressionless, so I had no idea what to expect.

Wolf-Eyes wrenched my hand out of my lap before I could react, and he deposited the stone in my palm. I resisted the urge to snarl at him, and instead made to shove the stone back at him. He clenched his fingers around my own, trapping the stone within my grasp, and pinned me to the chair with the other hand.

"Has it changed?" Azriel asked with the cool air of someone trying to appear uninterested. But it was obvious that he was interested.

Wolf-Eyes and I both looked down at the stone. It was about the size of a large clementine and was very smooth, almost like a river stone. And it remained its original milky white.

"Is there a point to this?" I snapped, trying to jerk my hand out of Wolf-Eyes' iron grip as I spoke. It didn't work.

"The stone determines if one is a mage. When the stone glows, it means that you have magic." I looked down at the stone within my grasp. As I had expected, the stone remained the same pearly white it had been before.

"Well I'm not a mage," I said. "You should have just asked. I could have told you as much."

Apparently this result wasn't what Magister Azriel had wanted. He leaned forward and, with his elbows on the table, steepled his hands in front of his mouth. He frowned at the stone in my hand for a moment, before giving a small nod to Wolf-Eyes, who stood beside me waiting for orders. I had expected him to let me go and retreat back into the shadows, like before. I had not anticipated him to abruptly pull me out of my chair and land one of the hardest sucker punches I'd ever experienced to my stomach.

I doubled over wheezing and coughing. Without giving me time to recover, Wolf-Eyes delivered a vicious kick to my ribs. I fell to the floor, trying to force my winded lungs to take a breath. I groaned as pain spread throughout my side and middle. There were definitely going to be some nasty bruises when this was over.

"Well don't stop now, boy. You've only just started," Magister Azriel chastised, almost lazily.

I looked up at Wolf-Eyes, who had paused in beating me to wait for orders. I could've sworn that he hesitated before moving to kick me again, but I didn't. Mustering as much force as I could gather, I kicked him in the groin as hard as I could. He fell to his knees with a stifled groan and hunched over.

I sat up quickly, wincing as pain bloomed in my side. It was likely that I had a cracked rib or two. And at that sensation, I became very, very angry. It had been a long time since I had been this mad. I was angry last night, but now I was murderous.

I drew my right fist back to punch Wolf-Eyes, but the moment my fist even came near his head he grabbed my wrist and twisted. He jabbed at my ribs, hitting my sore spot. I screamed in pain and fury, and I lashed out with my other fist, lunging at him as I did so. This time I actually hit him, but Wolf-Eyes barely even seemed to notice.

Ropes appeared out of nowhere around my wrists and tied me down to the floor. I growled as I was held back from retaliating against that damned elf.

"That's enough now, Samantha." Magister Azriel's tone was cool and annoyingly patronizing. My eyes snapped to his. He was smiling. Smiling. "Good work, boy."

Then I noticed that he was not really smiling at me, but at my hand. I looked down at my clenched fist, noticing for the first time that the stone was still in my grasp. How it remained there through all that, I had no idea. But that wasn't what was important. The stone was glowing.

It wasn't like when Magister Azriel had touched the stone. It had been a simple, light blue then. Now it seemed to burn. Tongues of bright crimson, orange, yellow, and white, and everything in between danced across the stone's surface, shining so brightly that it made the stone grow hot. It was already hot. Too hot. My fingers felt as though they were about to blister, so I let it go.

The stone fell about half of a foot and exploded the moment it touched the carpeted floor, as if it were made of nitroglycerin.

"Fascinating," Magister Azriel murmured from where he sat. I glared up at him, straining against the ropes he must have magically summoned. "It is a pity that you were never aware of your power. If you had, this all might have been easier."

I stared in disbelief at my reddened palms. I half expected them to burst into flames, but they didn't. I was a mage. Whatever that fully entailed, I didn't know.

"You knew?" My voice was unusually steady as I spoke, still staring at my bound hands.

"Of course I knew, child. That's why you are here," he said, sounding bored. "However, sometimes a little motivation is required to bring the talent to light."

I began to feel drained, as if I had just sprinted for a mile. My muscles felt fatigued, even though I had barely used them, and my bruises throbbed even more painfully than before. It became unusually hard for me to hold up my head. My eyelids drooped, and I felt my whole body begin to slump forward.

"It appears that the child has exerted herself too much. Take her back to her room." I heard Magister Azriel speak, but I couldn't muster the strength to resist. For a moment, I thought I had been drugged. Never in my whole life had I felt this defenseless. "She needs her rest."

The ropes disappeared from my wrists and receded back into the carpet. Hands grasped my arms and pulled me to my feet. I assumed that it was Wolf-Eyes, but I couldn't find my energy to look up. He pulled my arm around his shoulder and began to practically drag me across the room. It was at that point that I blacked out.

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring up at the dark ceiling above my bed. I pushed myself up to a sitting position. My vision swam for a moment, then went back to normal. I hissed as pain shot up my side. The corset wasn't helping. I fumbled with the laces and clasps for a few minutes before it came apart. Once it was off, I tossed it at the vanity, growling in frustration at it.

As soon as I had made the noise, there was a firm knock on the door. I crossed over to the door and flung it open, looking for a way to vent my frustration. If it was Azriel, I probably would have attacked him. It was Wolf-Eyes.

"What do you want?" I all but snarled. The memory of him attacking me was as fresh in my mind as the bruises were on my side. Screw politeness. He hurt me.

He did not respond for a moment. He hovered by the doorway unmoving, save for his gloved hand, which was twitching as it rested on his sword hilt. He seemed almost... nervous.

"Let me guess, the all-knowing Master desires an audience," I said impatiently. "Well he can keep his offer. I sure as hell don't want it! I'll be gone as soon as someone points the way to the nearest town."

Wolf-Eyes cleared his throat. "The Master did not send me this time. I wished to speak with you." I blinked in surprise before crossing my arms in front of my chest. My elbow brushed against the bruise, but I refused to flinch.

"Well you just did. Anything else?" I replied frostily.

"May I come in? There is something I wish to tell you," Wolf-Eyes asked. "These halls have eyes."

I raised my eyebrows at the request. Normally I would have slammed the door in his face, but there was something in his tone that gave me pause. I narrowed my eyes, but I stepped to the side to let him pass.

"Make it quick," I replied tersely.

Wolf-Eyes stepped into the room. He cut an intimidating figure, clothed in simple all-black leather armor and a black helmet that covered his entire face and head, save for the eyes. Not to mention that he was very tall, and he carried a broadsword. He was dangerous, if his appearance and my aching ribs were any indication.

"I wished to apologize for what h-"

"Stop right there." I cut him off, holding my hand up for emphasis. "Take off the helmet."

"What?" He sounded surprised.

"I don't trust people who apologize over the phone or in a text," I explained, ignoring the fact that he probably had no idea what a phone was. "Because I can't see their faces. Anyone can say they're sorry behind a helmet like that. I don't care how broken up you sound. If I don't see your face, I won't believe you."

"I'm not allowed to remove-" I cut him off again.

"Bullshit. I bet you're not 'allowed' to be in here either."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he chuckled. It was deep and gravelly, but not unpleasant, sound.

"It seems that Azriel was wrong about one thing," he said. "You are intelligent."

Wolf-Eyes reached up and opened the strap that held his helmet on. Then, with both hands, he began to pull it up and off his head. Long, shaggy, pitch black hair came free of the helmet and fell about one of the most gorgeous male faces I had ever seen. His skin was a dark olive, only a few shades darker than mine. Like the other elves I had come across, he had one of those broad nose bridges that narrowed more at the end, and of course, the pointed ears. He had high and prominent cheekbones, and a pair of sternly sculpted lips. I now had a face to go with the eyes, and I wasn't likely to forget it again.

He held the helmet at his side and met my gaze. He was young, possibly younger than me. There was something haunting about him, as if he had seen terrible things in his short lifetime. It was an odd look for someone so young-looking.

"You were saying?" I prompted when he did not speak. He took a deep breath and met my eyes almost shyly. Then, he fell to one knee, bowing before me.

"I am truly sorry for the pain I inflicted upon you today," he said, sounding sincere. "I felt sick the moment I raised my hand to you. It was wrong of me to cause you hurt, and for that I am sorry."

I stared at the young elf as if I had never seen him before. Technically I hadn't, but that was beside the point. The elf with the helmet on was intimidating, fierce, and powerful. This elf was kind and a little shy. It was rather unnerving.

"What's your name?" I blurted out before thinking.

He seemed hesitant to say. "My birth name is Leto, my lady." I now had a real name for him.

"Why did you attack me if it made you sick?" I asked, confused. "You're a strong, well-trained guy with a broadsword. Surely you've hurt someone before, right?"

He met my eyes, and, not for the first time, I saw the predatorial glint in those bright green, cat-like orbs. A shiver of fear went down my spine. He was dangerous. Very dangerous. I was fooling myself if I believed that he wasn't. It felt as though I had a live wolf in the same room, staring me down. I had been in a similar situation with a similar man when I was a little girl. Except this time, the wolf was sorry.

"I have… killed before. I am a slave, my lady. I do as I am told." Leto paused, frowning at something. "But I have never had to beat someone who is defenseless. Despite what you may think, I do not take pleasure in harming others."

"What would happen if you said no?"

Leto eyed me with curiosity. "Do you not have slaves in your land, my lady?"

"Of course not! It's barbaric and cruel!" I protested.

"Then you would not understand. We obey, or we die. There is no choice," he said seriously.

I rubbed my forehead in frustration and sighed. He was right. I did not understand. I was a stranger in a strange land. What would I know about Tevinter's customs and culture? From what I could tell, human decency was in short supply, at least among Magisters, if the others are anything like Azriel.

"I… I accept your apology, Leto," I said hesitantly. "Thank you. Just... don't do it again, or I'll kick your ass."

Leto nodded. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly upward, but it was so sudden and so brief that I couldn't be sure if it really was a smile or not. Regardless, I smiled back at him. It seemed the right thing to do.

He got back to his feet and returned the helmet to its original place on his head. Then, with a small bow, he began to leave the room. Once he reached and opened the door, I called out to him to stop. He paused, waiting for me to speak.

"I am no lady, Leto," I told him. "My name is Samantha. Please use my name in the future."

"As you wish, Lady Samantha."

I would have to have been deaf to have missed the teasing edge to his voice. I reached down to take off my sandal and toss it at him, but he had already left. Despite myself, I smiled.

Selena had come by an hour later, along with Varania. The redhaired elf's hands glowed a bright blue as she touched the cuts on my feet, my bruised sides, and my split lip (apparently I had bitten it without realizing). With a speed that only magic could cause, the injuries healed. It was the oddest experience, watching the skin on my feet knit together until all evidence of there being any cuts was gone. It was all too weird, but I said nothing. For now, it seemed, I had to live with the weirdness.

It was some time before I was summoned to Azriel's library. When I say summoned, what I really mean was 'escorted by two armed guards'. Whatever that display was supposed to mean, I wasn't sure. Maybe Leto had told Azriel that I wanted to leave. Whatever the reason, I had trouble seeing past the way they held their hands on top of their sword hilts. It was as if they were ready to cut me down at any time. The mere sight was unsettling enough to make me think about little else.

The library looked the same as it had before. Almost completely dark, with one lamp on a desk in the center of the room. And at that desk sat Azriel. My eyes wandered over the dark room until I saw Leto, who stood in one of the darkest corners of the room. If I hadn't been looking, I would not have noticed him.

"Now that you have passed my little test, I do believe that it is time for me to tell you my proposition," Magister Azriel stated calmly as he scanned over a letter in his hand.

I took a deep breath and, holding my head high, replied, "It does not matter. I'll find another way to return home."

That got his attention. Azriel looked up in surprise at my statement. It appeared that he never thought I would refuse him. His expression gave me confidence and a little bit of satisfaction, but he did not stay surprised for long. A slow, cold smile spread across his face, and Azriel laughed softly.

"So independent! So determined!" he mocked in an undertone. "I do not think you realize that you have no choice in the matter, Samantha."

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "And I do not think you realize that I am not a slave to be ordered about! I am a free woman, and you have no right to keep me here against my will!"

The smile vanished. "This is the Tevinter Imperium, little girl, and I am a Magister. Unless the Archon says otherwise, my word is law. I desire you stay."

"You forget that I don't care what you desire," I snapped at him. "And I will not be cowed by beatings. I've already had my fair share of them, and they don't work on me!"

"No," Azriel murmured speculatively. "I don't suppose they would. Fortunately, I do not depend on physically beating others into submission."

"Could have fooled me," I growled in an undertone. I was ignored.

"You will stay here, in my manor. And while you reside here, you will play a part. That part would be that of my daughter."

I stared at Magister Azriel unmoving, unblinking. I half expected Azriel to laugh and say that he had something else in mind. Something far more sinister. Something that would make more sense. But he was serious. I could see that in his eyes.

"What the fu-"

"Language, child," he chided cooly. "Be respectful in the presence of your father."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Hard. It was a few minutes before the giggles were gone completely. My newly healed sides ached slightly after laughing so hard.

"You are amused because...?" Azriel stared at me with raised eyebrows.

"I don't have the best experiences with fathers," I said seriously. "You'd be my fifth."

"Indeed. I sense a story, but I will not press for it yet. In time, perhaps."

"Why?"

He blinked. "Why what, child?"

"Why should I pretend to be your kid?" I listed. "Why would you even want me to? And why choose me?! From what I can tell, there are tons of mages to choose from. Take your pick!"

"You will see why I chose you, in time," Azriel replied. "What you need to know is that you are an essential part of my plans. Without you, I have no hope of succeeding. Once you have done as I have asked, I will help you return to your home."

I narrowed my eyes at the man, suspicious. The offer seemed genuine. What could he want from me that would be so awful? After a pause, I spoke.

"What could you possibly need my help with?"

I regretted asking immediately. A dark gleam appeared in his pale eyes, and his lips curved into a wide grin that, on his face, was incredibly sinister.

"Why, my dear, I wish to tear down the Tevinter Imperium."

A/N: Well, here it is! I finished my early college applications, so I finally had time to sit down and write this. Yay!

Anyway, so Fenris is in here, if you couldn't already tell. If you don't know which one is Fenris... well. I guess you weren't paying attention during the quest Alone.

So, yes. Samantha's a mage. That's going to come into play in a big way in this story. Should be fun!

If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, please leave me a review. I love reviews. They make me happy.

See you guys soon!