Samael still couldn't believe that he had let Merrill talk him into offering Fawn temporary asylum in the estate. In his defense, she used rather persuasive tactics. These included fluttering her eyelashes and a few stolen words whispered to him by the fireplace while Fawn waited in the dining room, looking around with poorly hidden interest. Samael could understand Merrill's eagerness to spend time with an old friend from Fereldan, although the new feeling that burnt in Samael's mind was disquieting and oddly persistent—jealousy. Just the way Fawn was looking at her, briefly touching her hand or looking deep into her eyes… this was enough to set the assassin's head on fire, and he wished to toss the smooth elf out of the door. Even better to slash his throat, then toss him out of the door. Maybe cut him into pieces. And burn the pieces and let the whole damned Hightown choke on the dust.
Samael had to restrain himself. A conversation with those two crazy elves awaited him and he well knew he had to demonstrate his superiority so the elven warrior knew who was the leader here and more importantly – who was Merrill's one and only lover.
"So… the Hero of Fereldan, right?" Samael settled down in the huge armchair by the fire, trying hard to preserve a neutral expression, but Fawn glimpsed a light smirk running across the assassin's face. "Care to tell me how you two got acquainted back in Fereldan?" Samael turned to Merrill, channeling the question strictly to her.
Fawn gestured towards the second armchair, intending to sit the lady down, but stay standing himself since there were no more seats, but Merrill waved her hand to let him take it and nestled down on Samael's lap, to the surprise of both men. Now it was Samael's turn to notice a brief wave of disapproval flowing across Fawn's face.
So this is how things are… This elven princelet just doesn't acknowledge any beings besides the elven mages. And of course he would like to see another elf by Merrill's side. Most likely himself. Elven skunk with his polished armored ass…
Merrill interrupted his musing, leaning backwards on him. "We found Fawn four years ago in the Brecilian forest, half-dead, after his escape from the Circle. It was my duty as the Keeper's First to tend to his injuries and take care of him. He was living with the clan for a while, until Duncan of the Grey Wardens came and…"
Fawn jumped in, obviously not willing to share the details of his life with an inferior human. "Then I left the clan, killed the Archdemon, spend some time in Amaranthine and left Fereldan for good. If you don't mind Merrill, I would like to turn in now."
Fawn's speech was completely indifferent and a little bit bored, but Samael did perceive an odd agitation and well-concealed wish to end the conversation as soon as possible. And, of course, the assassin couldn't ignore that Fawn had completely overlooked the fact that this was Samael's mansion, not to mention that he could show some basic gratitude for the shelter. Well… this pointy-ear dandy wouldn't get off so easily, oh no.
Samael snaked his arms around the limp woman on his lap, observing her heavy eyelids falling and inhaling the salt and sea emanating from her hair, while he let his thumb brush her lips.
"Why don't you go to our bedroom, my little pariah? Bodahn has prepared a hot bath. I'll join you as soon as I'm… done… here." Samael's dark amber eyes blazed with impish stars as he woke Merrill and made her quiver with desire. She couldn't see those same eyes had turned into crimson icicles, piercing Fawn, a second later. She leaned to the assassin's ear, whispering tenderly, "Don't let me wait too long, ma vhenan." Merrill stood up, stretching like a lazy cat, glancing at Fawn. "Good night, Fawn. I'm so glad we've met again."
Fawn, masking his discomposure at Samael's desire to speak with him alone, bowed to her and stood up chivalrously as Merrill made her way to the bedroom, her bare soles smacking softly on the stone stairs.
"Thank you for your lovely hospitality and now if you'll excuse me…" Fawn's voice sounded like he was talking about a fly buzzing around his head. A very annoying fly.
An innocent smile on his face, Samael gestured towards the prepared guest room. The assassin's hair whirled like a black storm as Fawn reached the door and the elf was slammed against it, his arms twisted mercilessly behind his back. Samael's hair tickled him on his neck, left cheek and ear. Samael was taller and strong enough to easily hold the struggling elf in check. The assassin knew if he had attempted to approach the nimble elf directly, Fawn would have slipped out of his grasp, but now, using this little ruse, Samael was the one in control.
"I don't know nor care who you are, Fawn Mahariel, but as long as you are taking advantage of my hospitality, you will follow my rules, elf! Understood? Otherwise take your toy sword and get out." Samael's breath burnt in Fawn's ear and Fawn quit his silent fighting, realizing it was futile. "And about Merrill," Samael continued, but was interrupted by the elf's mocking voice.
"So this is what all this is about? Marking your territory? Too insecure, too stupid to keep a woman like her by your side, you pathetic human?" Samael pulled the elf off the door, only to shove him against it even harder than before.
"You didn't catch the part about following my rules and not touching my woman with your smarmy hands, elf!" Samael tightened his grip, observing Fawn's defiant face in profile. Fawn was a much better diplomat than Hawke and decided it would be wise not to tease the warped assassin any more.
"The rules are…?" Fawn's unconcerned expression was driving Samael crazy, but he managed to gulp down his temper.
"No hidden agenda. No leaking information about what you see or hear here. When I call you to do something, like fighting, you will do it. Drop the act, elf, for I am able to see right through you. And hands off Merrill. In case you haven't noticed, she is mine. I bid you good night, oh mighty Hero of Fereldan."
Now it was Fawn's turn to feel the keen thorns of mockery, but he was wise enough to let it go. For now. His time would come, and this human would get what was coming to him, oh yes. But not yet. Not if Fawn wanted to obtain what he had come here for; and he always got what he desired.
"Ah, one more thing," without warning, Samael pulled down the neck of Fawn's pliable buckskin jerkin, intending to look for the Fereldan Circle of Magi sign and to confirm this part of the elf's story. The sign was supposed to be tattooed on the upper back, right beneath the nape, but Samael glimpsed only an unlovely old burn and a row of vertical scars crossing the elf's backbone.
A furious counterattack sent the assassin staggering back, shocked by this little involuntary discovery. The two men were staring in silence at each other, estimating each other, then at the same time they turned and left the hall – Fawn slipping into the guest room, Samael heading for his bedroom. Samael felt tense and the whole conversation was more disturbing than satisfying, but, luckily, he had somebody to help him wipe away this tension. That somebody was ogling him from a bathtub full of foam as he stripped off his clothing with a teasing smile.
oOo
The note said Samael was supposed to come to the alienage alone and completely alone he had arrived, if you omitted Isabela's inquiring eye peering at him from around the corner, Varric's dark silhouette on the roof, and Fenris lurking in the Merrill's old house.
Samael strolled across the silent alienage courtyard, squeezing the hafts of his throwing knives under his black cloak, scanning the neighborhood, trying to pierce the night shadows. He couldn't have been more surprised when he recognized the pale figure emerging from a dark corner.
"Marethari..." Samael breathed out, pulling his hands out of his cloak and bowing to greet her.
"I see you didn't expect me, Hawke, and I am truly sorry to bother you with this, but I need your help. And as I can see you didn't obey my wish that you come alone. Call your men here if you trust them." Marethari glanced around and waved her hands at Fenris striding toward them. Isabela sauntered along with him and Varric jumped off the roof, smirking at Hawke.
"What is it you need from me? And why did the note say Merrill wasn't supposed to be here?" Samael narrowed his eyes as he did every time somebody needed something from him. Sometimes he thought he had lived his whole time in Kirkwall with his eyes narrowed.
"I see you are a human of deeds, not words, Hawke. I shall get to the point then. When you tried to reach Feynriel and send him to the Circle, you weren't able to locate him." Samael noticed it wasn't a question so he just nodded in agreement.
"Then you tried to find him along with the Templars, but failed again and ceased searching, telling Arianni her son was probably dead," Marethari continued. Judging by her expression, Samael figured out she had found the boy and something was wrong. He sighed and rubbed his temples.
"I'll interrupt you right here, Keeper. You know where the boy is and you want me to do what...? Drag him to the Circle? Kill him? Teach him to sing?"
Marethari granted him a rather restive look and her words left Samael frozen to the spot. "I need you to reach him in the Fade where he's trapped in an endless nightmare. I need you to bring him back or kill him there, so the possibility of his being possessed will be eradicated." Marethari set her fluid eyes at the assassin, waiting for his answer.
Samael threw his hands up, pulling the cloak apart and revealing his black leather armor and the buckskin belt crammed with throwing knives. "Absolutely NOT! In case you haven't noticed, I am no mage, Keeper. Men like me have no business in the Fade. You should have saved the trip from Sundermount. Farewell." Samael turned around, intending to walk away.
"You have a debt to settle, Samael Hawke," Marethari's serene voice stopped him and he suddenly realized how right she was in this simple statement. After all, it was her antidote that saved his life. He sighed, knowing there was no way he could wriggle out of this now.
After Marethari presented him all facts, in the end she made an unexpected move and pulled Hawke so near that her silver hair tickled him on the chin; it smelled of herbs and mouldering leaves. An odd urgency in Marethari's whisper made him nervous.
"Don't bring Merrill along, Hawke. Mark my words." With this short and more puzzling than explanatory statement, Marethari turned and vanished into Lowtown.
oOo
Astonished, Samael blinked around, recognizing the walls of the Gallows. His feet were hidden in whirling shreds of mist and everything was oddly blurred. He tried to rub his eyelids, but it didn't help of course. Merrill put her cold hand onto his shoulder in a reassuring gesture and smiled as Samael recalled her adamant stubbornness about bringing her along. She absolutely refused to let him go into the Fade without her, reasoning with him, convincing him he would need a mage. Anders had rejected the possibility of going to Fade in a panic, too afraid of what would happen to Justice.
"I can't believe you've convinced me to come with you, Hawke," Fenris scowled, touching the floating wall in suspicion.
Despite the Fade around him, Samael laughed when he said, "Let me remind you who insisted on coming with me, you elven tick!" Fenris tittered, nudging him in the ribs. Their little playful dispute was interrupted with Aveline's impatient snort, so they moved on. By the Marethari's description, they were supposed to pass three chambers. Feynriel should be here somewhere.
As they cautiously entered the first room, it seemed empty at first, but the temperature shifted in a second and Samael touched his numb lips as he breathed out little cloudlets of frost. That... couldn't be good. And it wasn't.
The whole room darkened, shrank, and obscure contours were emerging all around them. All they could do was wait, close together, back to back, and observe the change. There was a huge mound of boots, which were obviously brought here to be cleaned and polished, a shabby table with one dead hand-made candle, and a rotting paillasse in the corner. While their eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness, a soft moan from the poor substitute for a bed drew their attention. They hadn't noticed Fenris' stiff pose and widened eyes until his greatsword clanged on the freezing flagstones, making them all jump and whirl around.
Samael searched his face and his own heart sank down as he observed the utter horror in the eyes of the fearless lyrium warrior. Fenris was stumbling backwards, his gaze locked at a dark sobbing silhouette lying on the paillasse. The assassin intended to comfort him when a gleeful voice wheezed around them,
"Who knows... What you whispered in the darkness... Leto... When your world was shrinking into the face of your... Master. Who knows... Who cares... What you whispered... to yourself... When they took your freedom... Who knows... What you have seen in the blind mirror... When you looked into it and saw... Fenris!
"SHUT UP!" Fenris covered his ears and collapsed. A pellucid figure was approaching him, raising its scabby arms in a loving gesture.
"Who knows... How you survived his visits... Night after night... When nothing made sense anymore... And you wished... to DIE!" The figure sneered and caressed Fenris' snowy hair.
"Go away... Spirit... Demon... Stop it! Stop, please. Samael, make him STOP!" Fenris shrieked and hid his head under his arms.
He had never looked more wretched and weak than now and Samael didn't wait for anything worse as he pierced the figure with both his daggers. It moaned and dissipated, but the fading laughter let them know it wasn't over by a long shot.
Samael kneeled cautiously, too afraid to touch the broken elven warrior, but even more afraid to leave him alone. As he gently squeezed a shuddering shoulder, Fenris grabbed his hand and tried to get ahold of himself. The absolute pain emanating from Fenris squeezed the assassin's guts, and he had no clue how to make it go away.
"It's... gone, Fenris. You are all right. It's gone now." Samael's quiet words worked and the assassin was able to pull the elf up to his feet again while Aveline sheathed the greatsword on Fenris' back and Merrill handed her fellow elf a golden potion. Samael pushed the potion away and forced the elf to take a few gulps of whiskey from a small silver flask. Merrill frowned but apparently Samael's way of coping with problems worked, since Fenris stopped trembling and glanced around, shaking his head. "Better," Fenris rasped and Samael grinned.
Ruminating about the first chamber, Samael found himself afraid to enter the second one, but there was really no other choice, right?
They stopped in the middle of spacious vault, the air smelling of mold, and tears of moisture rolling down the walls. The stone beneath their feet rocked and they all fell to the ground.
"By the Dread Wolf...!" Merrill peeped, snatching her new staff.
"Fasta vaas!" Fenris growled, helping a fuming Samael up.
Aveline stayed down, staring at the approaching ghost. When it stood right above her, she clenched her eyes, refusing to acknowledge Weasley's veiled eyes burning through her.
"Happy to see me again... wife? Or have you already forgotten my face as well, wife? Have you ever wondered during your long sleepless nights, where is Weasley, wife? Oh wait... Right... You left me to die! You didn't even try to save me, but I would have tried everything to save you!
"Cut it in half, Aveline," Samael's lazy voice interrupted the ghost. Aveline glanced at her leader in shock, her eyes full of the tears so rarely spilled before and hatred at his harsh words.
"Ah, yes, wife, just cut me in half! Kill me for the second time! It won't wash away the guilt, wife!" Aveline was shaking her head and turned her bloodless face to Hawke, unsheathing her sword and approaching him slowly. Samael prepared for the worst.
"Look at me! Aveline, look at me! This is not Weasley. Guards-Captain!" Samael had his own weapons en garde, ready to defend himself. Aveline gave him a sad smile, whirled around, and cut the ghost's head off in an unstoppable sweep. She fell on her knees right next to vaporizing body and let herself cry over the grief that had haunted her since Weasley's death. The rest of them flocked apart from her, giving her space to calm down, nobody daring to talk to her.
When she had strolled to them after a moment, rubbing her swollen eyes and not bothering to sheath the sword, they all mutely moved to the next door with resigned expressions. Samael sighed and kicked the last door open, peering inside. The room looked like his own bedroom, blurred into dreamy shapes. Only it was a bit crowded with Feynriel sprawling on the bed and five huge demons circling him, their claws raised above the boy's figure, murmuring in a forgotten language.
Samael gulped, but his raising anger and desire to get out of here made his voice steady and bright. "Last time I looked this was still my bedroom, demons!" Samael hissed, swinging his blades impatiently in the air. Feynriel slowly opened his eyes, rose, and Samael's heart skipped a beat as he realized a demon was already within the boy.
The boy folded his arms and started orbiting the standing rogue who was suddenly unable to move or defend himself. The others seemed to have the same problem.
"My… my… some of these mortals are powerful vessels," Feynriel tittered, stroking Samael's long hair. Merrill saw her lover's muscles bulging, but he did… nothing. She managed to sizzle through her clenched teeth, "Step away from him, demon!"
"Silence, elven whore!" Feynriel was still smiling, pawing Samael like a long desired present. "Tell me, mortal. How far would you go to get what you've craved for so long? You are young, wealthy, handsome. What is it that makes you insatiated even now, when you seem to have everything? Why don't you cut off the bonds that chain you in this cesspool of a city? Who is standing between you and the greatness, the power ,you've only dreamt of until now?"
Samael glanced desperately at his companions, Merrill was shaking her head in a mute plea. Pale Aveline, clenching her fists tight. Fenris, his beloved brother, was still struggling with his own demons. Would he hurt any of them? To what end? Wait… why he would want to hurt them? This… this wasn't his desire at all. Really… what had he been thinking for a moment there?
Samael's hands clasped the daggers tight and in the next second, Feynriel's head was rolling on the waving carpet. Now, when the spell was broken, he intended to challenge every damned demon here, but a painfully familiar sound made him whirl around to face his friends and a lover. Oh yes, he should have paid attention to what the other demon was whispering to Merrill. But it was too late.
Aveline and Fenris were caught in crimson-black fibre cocoons of blood magic, screaming mutely as invisible claws grazed their flesh. Even now Fenris was able to see a little silver elven knife, stuck right between the fourth and fifth rib, piercing the Samael's heart from behind. The last thing Samael saw was a pair of crimson eyes, the blazing eyes of an enemy.
Samael was dead before he hit the ground.
oOo
Fenris didn't know if the lyrium etched into his skin or pure hatred let him break the prison, but he made it out. Not bothering with a weapon, he knocked Merrill down with his shoulder, kicking her like a mad man, only to grab her by the neck and lift her in the air, observing her bleeding wrists, red eyes and lips twisted into a cruel grin.
He heard Aveline's inhuman roaring behind him, letting him know she was taking good care of the demons, despite her wounds. Fenris wasn't sure how long he held Merrill, but then – finally – his fist glowed, ready to rip her heart out, to shred her into twitching pieces for what she had done. Alas, somebody caught that fist.
"I thought you would push my hand inside, not hold it back, Guards-Captain," Fenris snarled, still at least killing Merrill with his eyes.
"Believe me, I'd rather cut her head off myself, but Samael's not dead, Fenris. He will wake up once we get out of here, but if you kill Merrill here, she's Tranquil." Aveline voice was trembling, repressing her anger and desire for vengeance.
"And? Isn't that what she deserves? After what she's done? She KILLED him, Aveline! Stabbed him in the back! What worse she could have done than that?" Fenris shoved the other elf to the wall, where she collapsed, groping at her neck and struggling for every breath.
"She will be dealt with. With Samael's temper, I don't expect her to live long after he's awake." Even an eternal, drunken optimist wouldn't consider the sneer on Aveline's face as a smile.
"Let us be done with this Fade then. I can't wait to see her guts hanging out of the window at the Hawke estate." Fenris sheathed his greatsword, dragging Merrill by the ankle to the portal Marethari had established for them.
oOo
The silence was interrupted only by Merrill's choked sobs, Varric's stomping around the room, and Fenris' quiet Tevinter swearing every time he felt the urge to kick the tiny elf cuffed in the corner. When Fenris couldn't bear the silence anymore he jumped up.
"Why isn't he awake yet?" He snapped at Anders, who was sitting on the bed, checking Samael's pulse.
It was regular and strong but Anders rubbed his eyes in anxiety. "I've told you! There's no reason Samael shouldn't wake up right away just like you did… unfortunately…" Anders murmured, glancing at the skittering elf in annoyance. "But yell some more, Fenris - he might wake up just to shut up your filthy mouth."
The elven warrior was about to shout a properly venomous reply, when Samael gasped, sitting up abruptly and scrabbling at his back. Anders caught his hands gently. Samael was obviously fumbling for the knife still stuck in his back, but, of course, there was none.
Fenris cupped his face, forcing him to look up at him, his eyebrows knitted as he observed Samael's wild eyes, disjointed breathing, and a single tear running down his face. Fenris wiped it away, whispering soothing words nobody else was supposed to hear. Nobody but his assassin.
Anders was always astonished by this sudden change in the lyrium warrior's behavior regarding their leader, but this was not the time nor place to muse about that.
Samael's eyes were wandering around the room, stopping at the relieved Aveline and Varric. Samael even managed to give them a bland smile, whispering hoarsely, "Just a false alarm, I guess." When Samael noticed the crouching Merrill chained in a corner, his expression turned into an impenetrable wall, but Fenris and Anders were near enough to see Samael was about to break.
"Fenris… take me out of here. Please, just take me away." If Fenris was stunned by this unexpected plea whispered to him, the rest of them were gaping in awe. They had expected everything from torturing the blood mage and handing her over to Templars to simple execution, but this… This was much worse.
Fenris didn't wait for anything else. He pulled Samael to his feeble feet and gave his fellow elf a last annihilating glance, telling her this wasn't over. He left the room with Samael, supporting him. The assassin felt the comforting and familiar heat emanating from Fenris' arms encircling him and let himself be led like a lamb.
"Come back! Samael, come back, please!" Merrill's desperate shouting ripped the silence apart. Samael just closed his eyes and continued walking.
As the heavy front door slammed close, she was only able to whisper, "Come back," one last time. Her gaze slipped to the ring on her finger. The fire stone flashed in the last spark of light, then it darkened into a dove grey. She hid her head under the thin arms and her consciousness left her as if even it didn't wish to have anything in common with her.