Nightmares Re-Write Chapter 8
By Of Quirky Excellence aka LyriumGhost18
Days went by, and the kidnapped Champion and her elven lover grew less and less optimistic. Orana brought them trays with food and water twice each day and then left without a word. One day she glared at them, and almost said something, and all it took was a raised eyebrow from Fenris to frighten the girl so much she dropped the tray and its contents in the cell and ran quickly above deck. Hawke would soon find out why the girl had reacted this way, and it would trouble her for many more days to come. It was three and a half days before they saw Danarius again. He walked slowly but with purpose in his steps towards the cell, with Hadriana at his side like an attention seeking mabari.
"We will port in Minrathous in approximately two days, thanks to the blood sacrifices made yesterday." He said simply.
Hawke croaked, but no words came. They hadn't had water yet today, and she was too in shock to fight the dry little cry that came out instead of any words. Her heart sank. She was already feeling seasick but the thought of more bloodshed, more anguish, and the suffering of even more people, just so Danarius could get away with kidnapping them, sickened her.
Fenris looked up wearily, as he'd been trying to rest, despite the discomfort of being in the cell and sleeping on a pile of hay. He scowled at their captor, emerald eyes glistening in contrast to the dank atmosphere of the lowermost part of the ship. "If you're saying that to break our spirits, you are wasting your breath." He growled.
Annabelle placed a hand on his arm and stroked it. "Why, Danarius? Why did you do that, and why are you telling us this?"
"Because, my dear, anyone who crosses me grows one step closer to becoming a blood sacrifice for power. You and my Fenris are the only exceptions. I've got plans for you, my pretty thing, and as for Fenris, he shall resume his duties to me. He is far too valuable to be punished with death, you see. More valuable than you would ever know." The magister said, proudly.
Annabelle's eyes narrowed. "You didn't answer my question."
Danarius raised an eyebrow at her challenge. Then he laughed cruelly. "Oh, I answer to nobody. Not even the one who killed the Arishok."
"The Arishok was a worthy opponent. Unlike yourself." Annabelle said, then her tone grew fierce, almost menacing. "But you will feel even better sliding off my blade."
This made even Hadriana gasp. Danarius looked unsettled, and Fenris looked more shocked than he would ever admit.
"What's the matter? Did I ruffle your feathers?" Hawke continued. Fenris grabbed her arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket as he yanked her out of the way of the fireball Danarius cast her way. By the magister's will the flames were out before they reached the wall of the ship, but Annabelle was nearly hit by it. The elf had pulled her out of the way just in time.
Danarius lost his composure and shouted; "You, Champion, will learn to bend to my will and never, ever be smart with me again! Next time I won't miss. Guard,"
"Yes ser," the guard stood at attention. It was not the same guard that had flogged Fenris days before. They hadn't seen that one for two days now. He seemed to be the only one of the guards who had to, (or felt he had to) call Danarius and Hadriana 'master' and 'mistress.' Perhaps he was an enslaved guard as Fenris had been, or as he would be, Hawke realized, to her horror.
"See that neither of these prisoners receive food or water." He commanded. "For the rest of the voyage. If Orana comes below deck, tell her father, when he relieves you of your post, to tell her she must leave and not return. Anyone who tried to pass them food will be executed. Are we clear?"
"Yes, ser." The guard saluted.
Father? Orana's father? Now it almost made sense. Orana had dropped the tray the day the sympathetic guard was not there, and Danarius had mentioned blood sacrifices! Hawke quickly put the pieces together in her head, panicking a little. At least the man wasn't dead if he'd be guarding them later.
But why? Annabelle got over the shock of it all, plus her arm nearly being pulled out of its socket, rather quickly. Her head was spinning and she was sick about the whole situation. She spoke stoically in response to the magister's orders to the guard, pushing her other thoughts to the back of her mind for now.
"Starve us? You are truly a fool if you think it's a good idea to deprive your bodyguard of the strength and energy he'd need to swing a sword in your defense. Need I remind you he has been weakened by injuries?" She said with as much spirit as she could muster.
Danarius shook his head. "As you saw, I am not completely defenseless myself. As for being a fool, I am no such thing. Fenris will be fit to serve me when he is ready to obey."
Hawke frowned, but she was at a loss for words as she stared into the magister's cold, blue eyes. Then she put her brother's spitting lessons to good use again.
She missed. As terrified as she was for their fates, she tried to act tough, even if it didn't seem to faze the magister. It got the point across to Fenris, however. He stroked her arm lightly.
"Belle, please. Stop." Danarius looked puzzled by the words and actions of his 'little wolf.' He chuckled and he and his apprentice went above deck. As they took their leave, Hawke laid down next to Fenris, who was already on the pile of hay, looking defeated again, like a caged animal. They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes and then the guards changed. Back to the guard who'd whipped Fenris, and, apparently, Orana's father. He said nothing as he took his post, put he seemed more fidgety than usual.
Hawke broke the silence with a small outburst that made both Fenris and their guard flinch a little. "I cannot tolerate the way he treats you!" She said a little louder than she had meant to. "This will not stand, he needs to die!"
Fenris sighed and they both sat up slowly. "Hawke, it isn't that simple. If we kill him, we have to deal with Hadriana, all those guards, and likely our only fate would be death by the Tevinter government's orders. They do not look kindly upon slaves who turn against their masters."
Hawke sighed sadly. "I know…but you're forgetting who I am in Kirkwall. The Free Marches. Don't you think Kirkwall's chantry would jump at the chance to start a war with the Tevinter Magisters?" she asked, temporarily forgetting they were being guarded. "I saved the damned city. Meredith would be eager to kill a few mages to save me. Not that all mages deserve to die, but still."
Fenris shook his head, his green eyes filled with sorrow. "There's no way the Marchers can find us."
"Aveline could." Hawke said, nudging his arm gently.
"True, but one magister's actions aren't enough to start a war…" He said. Fenris wanted to believe there was hope, that there was a way out of this nightmare, but he was having a very hard time with that.
"I'm not hearing any of this." The guard called as he turned to face his charges.
"Thank you, but do not risk your life for us." Hawke said with a meek smile.
"Hey, you seem important. Don't know why Master messed with you." The guard said.
"'Twas a mistake indeed." Hawke said softly. Later that day the Champion and her lover fell asleep in each other's arms, holding onto each other for warmth. Hawke awoke with a pit in her stomach. Hunger wasn't something her well-built body was accustomed to. Fenris was already sitting up, his face pale and looking rather sickly.
She felt seasick, but she could not wretch, for there was nothing in her stomach.
"Fenris, this is my fault. I shouldn't have-"
"I have had worse, Annabelle." He tried to smile, to reassure her, but there were tears in his sparkling green eyes. It was the first time she'd ever seen the stoic elf cry.
"Oh, Maker, you're crying!" she exclaimed. She scooted over to him and took him into her arms in a comforting embrace.
"I'm fine, Hawke." He said, his voice cracking. "Let's not get too upset now."
She held him close, and kissed his cheeks, forehead, temples, and then finally he let their lips meet, in a long kiss, although it was much more bittersweet than passionate this time. He stroked a few strands of golden hair out of her face when their lips finally parted, and then they wept freely into each other's shoulders. "Hawke…Annabelle, if I don't make it, take the favor from my wrist. I want you to have it back." He said after they'd both cried their fill and they sat there together in that little cell.
She saw that he still wore the red scarf around his right wrist, it must have been under his gauntlet which the guards had removed in order to chain him up. This scarf was the only reminder that they had once been able to be in love without fearing for each other every single moment.
But it broke her heart to hear him say this, all the same. Hawke pulled away from him a little, her sea-blue eyes glistening. "You will live, my love. I will not let this be the end."