Nero could think of nothing. He didn't exactly expect anyone to know that he was a slave, much less the Archon's property. He had never thought of a cover story beyond saying he was a traveler and had never been to Ferelden. He didn't have a whole lot of time to think on it anyway, over the next couple of days he spent most of his time sleeping. He was quite impressed with the healer's ability, he had been wounded rather severely before and generally the area would still be sore afterwards, but had he not been reminded that he had been stabbed Nero was not completely sure he would have remembered. All he was recovering from was extreme blood loss and dehydration.

Nero still felt he had a debt to pay, he could not fathom why anyone would help what appeared to be an elf bleeding to death in an alley, without expecting something. And he didn't like the idea that he owed anyone anything, he only hoped that this deep roads expedition would be adequate compensation and then some.

He spent two more days under the eye of the healer and in the clinic, by the end of which he was growing restless. He had strength enough to walk on his own, and did so, but he had no where to go, so he assisted Anders when the mage seemed overwhelmed by his workload...which was nearly all the time. Mostly Nero just grabbed things for him, and helped some of the patients. Nero's medical knowledge was non-existent. He spent the rest of his time trying to get the blood off of his armor, without much luck, he got most of the dried blood off but the leather had been stained. He sewed it back together regardless, it was the only armor he had, bloodstained or not it was better than nothing.

The dwarf and Hawke had gone to the Hanged Man and retrieved Nero's pack, so he was at least in his own clothes, wearing his extra tunic and pants. He also had his daggers back - which was a great comfort. Not that he had any intention of using them on these people, despite some concerns that were voiced by the others to Hawke, which the man laughed off. Nero found that he and Hawke seemed to have some sort of unjustified faith in each other, Nero found it unnerving and he tried to maintain his skepticism in spite of it.

Despite having his weapons back he was a bit disappointed to hear that his scabbards did not appear to be in sight. At some point during his battle the belt holding them to his waist must have been cut. Nero tried to be thankful for what he had, but he found himself wondering if death wouldn't have been the best way to find the freedom he was looking for.

Nero did not see Fenris again till his second night in the clinic. Anders had just extinguished the lanterns and went to the back to clean up when Hawke threw open the door, followed by the elf, Isabela, and Varric, the dwarf. Nero was sitting on his cot picking blood out of the images etched in the blade of his daggers when they entered, he spared them a glance before returning to his task.

Anders reappeared from the back and struck up a conversation with his guests, a shadow fell over Nero as his scabbards were tossed beside him on his cot. Huh, never thought I would see those again. Nero looked up to find himself looking into large, green orbs. Unexpected.

Going back to cleaning his daggers he muttered "gratias."

Taking a seat on the cot next to Nero's, Fenris said nothing for a few moments, before speaking low in tevinter, as though he did not wish the others to know what he was saying.

"I presume you are an escapee, will you be followed here?"

Nero thought on his answer for a moment, deciding his only real option was to tell him the truth, he seems to have guessed most of it anyway, "I expect to have been followed, yes."

Fenris scowled, "You endanger us all, you should leave."

Nero snorted, "I do not get the impression that Hawke would agree. They are after me, and me alone, your lives are not at risk unless you try to protect me from them, which I advise against."

"Aaaaw, look Hawke, aren't they cute?" Isabela giggled, "I think they might actually be friends soon."

Fenris scowled and Nero ignored her.

"Stop it, Isabela," Hawke grabbed a chair and placed it at the end of Nero's bed, leaning back he rested his feet on the metal railing as Isabella sat beside Fenris and Anders and Varric shared the cot on the other side. Nero stiffened, he was surrounded, escape, if necessary, would be difficult.

"So, Nero." Hawke began "do you care to share your story?"

Nero rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. "I would rather not, but i imagine this is inevitable, what do you wish to know?"

"Who were you in Tevinter?"

Putting down his daggers Nero leaned back on his elbows and looked at the ceiling, "A slave."

"For the Archon, right? What were your uh...duties?"

"That depends, I did what I was told to. Sometimes it was something as simple as delivering a message to someone else in the castle, sometimes I acted as the palace executioner, other times I was told to ... quietly kill someone, sometimes I was chosen to fight a magister's prized guard or whatnot, for sport, I was told."

It was not a complete lie, Nero occasionally was used to carry messages from one of his makers to another in the estate, they had him execute or fight any trespassers on their property, and occasionally a magister would visit and ask to view Nero's fighting skills. Those requests never seemed to end despite how many magister's lost their bodyguards. The Archon, despite not making use of Nero, sent some of his prisoners to the estate to keep his skills honed and practiced. But he never did see the man himself after Nero was rejected.

Hawke was quiet for a few moments, "and you escaped." it was a statement more than a question.

"Yes." Nero agreed.

Varric chuckled, "Well what are the chances. It seems you attract escaped slaves from Tevinter my dear Hawke."

Anders caught sight of Nero's questioning expression and clarified for him, "Fenris has a similar story, which is surprising, given his personality."

Nero inspected the white haired elf for a moment, perhaps I had seen him around. That would explain why I recognize him.

"What's that, mage?" Fenris snarled.

"Well you don't exactly have the temperament for a slave."

Fenris' eyes narrowed, "is that a compliment or an insult?"

"I'm just wondering how your master didn't kill you."

Fenris snorted, "how have the Templar's not killed you?"

Anders smiled, "I'm charming."

"Guys, stop it." Hawke interjected. "Does your master think you dead, or is he looking for you?"

"I have no master," Nero snapped. After forcing down his irritation he elaborated "However...yes, the man who believes he owns me has sent people to track me down. It has been years but I cannot shake them. It does not matter where I go, they always seem to know."

"Sounds like when I was on the run from the circle," Anders said, "although they had my phylactery..."

"I hear magister's have loose morals, do you think they would have a phylactery for you despite you not being a mage? It seems like a good way to track a person that you didn't want to lose." Hawke asked.

Nero tried to hide his confusion, but failed, so Anders explained "It is often a small glass vial containing blood that is used to track mages that have gone apostate. Apparently the blood glows the closer it gets to said apostate." Nero raised an eyebrow in question, to which Anders laughed "My phylactery was destroyed when I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Have you ever heard anyone mention it?"

"I...do not know..." Nero muttered.

"Well, we'll worry about it some other time," Hawke began, "the more pertinent issue is where your going to stay. If you are being hunted, and you know that they will come to Kirkwall, staying at the Hanged Man is a terrible idea. It's little more than a gossip mill, oh stop it Varric you know its true. Maker forsake if someone there has gotten a good look at your eyes."

Nero sighed, unsure what to say, "Where do you suggest I go?"

"Well," Hawke smiled, "I happen to know someone who lives in a very large and empty estate, all by himself..."