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The castle was surprisingly warm; the stone corridors heated using magical torches and each room housing large, ornate fireplaces. Rich, brocaded tapestries covered the walls, and the thick marble staircases were accented in gold.
In the lavish dining room, the mood was cautiously festive. This was a special night for Magister Denarius and his fellows. Months of preparation had gone into this experiment and if it succeeded, it would insure their superiority among the powerful elite of Minrathous.
"To us," Denarius said, raising his goblet and smiling warmly at his companions. "And to our new army of warriors…" At this last statement, all eyes turned to the nervous elf in the corner. When dinner was completed, the guests headed deeper into the castle; their excitement palpable.
Fenris followed his master down the darkened hallway. He had been anxious for most of the day; and the stares he received from the magisters during dinner did nothing to ease his mind. They descended the stone steps into Denarius' laboratory, and Fenris jumped as the door was closed and locked behind them.
In the center of the room, surrounded by torches, was a large stone altar. Denarius ushered his slave forward, ordering him to lie flat on the cold surface. Never questioning his master's wishes, Fenris complied; shaking as shackles were placed on his wrists and ankles.
"You should feel honored, my little Fenris," Denarius told him as he ran his fingers down the elf's bare chest. "The gift you are about to receive will make you a fighter of unequaled ability. With your help, we will show the other Tevinter magisters what true power can be."
Fenris looked up at Denarius, fear and uncertainty in his eyes. He tried valiantly to stop the quivering of his limbs, to no avail. His eyes widened as a table was pulled alongside him, littered with bottles of potions, small knives and long needles. Seated upon it was a large bowl filled with a glowing blue liquid. The slave watched in fascination as his master pulled a black quill from his robe and began drawing decorative lines over his face and limbs.
"And who knew you were an artist, as well, Denarius?" Magister Elovius said, chuckling softly as he gazed in admiration at the elf's naked torso. "He should make for a most attractive specimen."
Leaning close to Fenris, Denarius whispered into his ear. "This next part will no doubt hurt a bit," he said soothingly, reaching out to place a finger on the center of his forehead. Instantly, the slave found his limbs frozen in place and his heartbeat began racing desperately in his chest.
"It's time," Denarius said as he stepped back from the altar and gazed around at his fellow mages. Reaching onto the nearby table, he picked up a small stiletto, its blade glittering in the torchlight. Fenris stared in horror as the magisters began chanting in a circle around him; the air filling with a deep blue mist. Denarius moved closer, placing the knife along his chest and making the first incision…
"No!" Fenris screamed, sitting up in the darkened stateroom; sweat dripping down his back. He ran his hands over his face, trying to calm the shaking in his limbs. The nightmare was always the same. He remembered every detail of the night Denarius changed his life forever. And now he has Alexa, he thought, his heart breaking. And if he is allowed to do to her what he did to me…
The door to his room opened and Varric stepped inside; followed closely by Merrill. "Hey, Elf, are you trying to wake the entire ship?" he asked, smiling gently. Though he kept his comments lighthearted, Fenris could see the worry in the dwarf's eyes.
"Yes, that was my intention," Fenris replied, dropping his face into his hands and sighing heavily. "You know me. If I'm not sleeping, neither is anyone else."
"Selfish bastard," Varric chuckled, walking into the room and sitting in a nearby chair. Merrill followed cautiously, keeping close to the door. She knew Fenris didn't like her; nonetheless, she didn't wish to see him this upset. The blood mage was extremely close to Alexa; and, after everything the Champion had done to help her since they first met, she felt it was her obligation to see that the man Hawke loved was safe.
Fenris stepped from the bed and Merrill turned quickly, not wishing to embarrass him as he pulled on his clothes. "So," Fenris asked as he splashed cold water onto his face, "now that the initial pleasantries are over, why did you really come here?"
"Let me see," Varric said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was lying in my bed, dreaming of all the lovely waitresses at the Hanged Man that I am not with at this moment, and suddenly I hear a loud scream from the room next door. Not the first time I have heard this particular disturbance since this voyage started, I might add. So, I asked myself, 'Varric, isn't it time you find out exactly what is chasing your elven friend through the Fade each time he closes his eyes?' Daisy, here, seemed to have the same idea, and here we are."
The dwarf expected an angry refusal to discuss the situation, at worst; and a denial of the allegations, at best. However, neither of those came from his elven companion. Much to his surprise, Fenris nodded, sitting down in the chair across from him. Merrill moved carefully into the room, taking a seat on the floor near the two men.
"The dreams that plague my sleep are the memories of the ritual that gave me these markings," Fenris explained, holding his arms out before him. "I can recall in vivid detail every agonizing moment of the ceremony; from the first incision to the last pouring of the lyrium. Each night when I close my eyes, I return to that castle and I recall what happened to me. Now, because of my own selfishness, Alexa faces the same torture that took my life away."
"I've told you that I didn't remember anything of my life before the lyrium was added to my skin," he continued softly. "That was true, until the night I laid with Alexa. Her touch, her love, brought it all back to me. For one glorious moment, I could remember all that I had been before Denarius escorted me into his laboratory."
Fenris turned his head aside, but not before Varric saw the tears glistening in his eyes. "She gave me my life back, and how did I repay her?" he spat angrily, clenching his fists on his lap. "I ran from her, and spent the next three years pretending that her gift to me meant nothing. Whatever horrors the Fade holds for me are punishment for that denial."
Shaking his head, Varric leaned forward, gazing steadily at the elf. "If Daisy wasn't here right now," he said quietly, "I would beat you within an inch of your life." The dwarf smiled wryly as Fenris' eyes widened in surprise. "Do you think it will help Alexa for you to wallow in self-pity? I know you feel that you deserve what is happening to you each night, but that does nothing to move us closer to rescuing Hawke. If you really want forgiveness for your sins, I have a far better penance."
"I'm not the least bit surprised," Merrill said, smiling at the dwarf. "You always have a plan, Varric."
"Exactly, my lady," Varric replied, his gaze never moving from Fenris. "If you can remember every detail of this ritual, then you need to share it with the rest of our companions. We need every advantage if we are to defeat the monster who has taken Alexa, and your knowledge is our greatest weapon. So, Elf, are you strong enough to face the horrors you endured and finally bring them to light? I think once you do, you will find your Fade journeys to be far less treacherous."
Fenris rose from his seat and paced the small room, wringing his hands. Eventually he turned, meeting Varric's stern gaze. "You know I am not one to open myself to others," he said, "but if this will increase our chances of rescuing Alexa even a small percentage, I will do it gladly."
"Good," Varric replied, rising from his chair and pulling Merrill from the floor. "Then we will leave you to get your beauty rest, my friend. You have a busy morning ahead of you." Turning, the duo left Fenris' stateroom, closing the door quietly behind them.
Fenris removed his clothing and climbed back into the bunk. His final thoughts as he drifted back to sleep were of the beautiful Champion he had abandoned long ago. I will find you, Alexa, he swore, and when I do, I will never let you go.
o~~~~~~~~o
"Good morning, Master Denarius," Lavenar said, bowing before the magister. "Is there anything special you would like for breakfast today?"
"I am fine," Denarius responded, staring at the food being prepared in the galley. "My concern is Mistress Hawke. Have you taken her breakfast to her room yet?"
A look of fear crossed the elf's features as he gazed upon his master. "No, Master Denarius, not yet," he said sheepishly. "We were waiting for news that she had awaken. We did not want to interrupt her sleep."
"Ah," the mage replied, nodding slowly. "That is good. Mistress Hawke's sleep is extremely important." As he spoke, he smiled softly. More important than either of you will ever know, he thought, remembering the events of the previous evening.
He had stayed with Alexa for several hours after Feynriel left her room, watching her as she slept. She was a divine creature, and he was anxious to move forward with his plans for her. The drugs he had placed in her bath salts insured he could examine her at his leisure; and he had mentally drawn the design he would use for the lyrium tattoos. He fully intended the markings to accentuate her voluptuous figure. After all, she was a woman of taste and he wanted her to be pleased with the final result.
He shook his head, clearing his mind of the lustful thoughts that were pulling his attention away from the task at hand. Glancing at the female elf, he snapped his fingers. She turned toward him quickly, her eyes downcast. "Yes, Master?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
"What are you making Mistress Hawke this morning?" he asked, moving toward the dining table. "I trust she will be served only the best you have to offer?"
"Of course, Master Denarius," the young woman replied, hastening toward the plates that were laid out before him. "I have prepared sugared porridge with fruit, and fresh baked bread. If you would prefer something else, I would be most pleased to change it for you."
"That should be acceptable," he said, reaching into his robe and pulling out a vial of odorless liquid. He reached forward, pouring the concoction over her porridge and mixing it in with a nearby spoon. Turning back toward the slaves, he glared ominously at them. "Take the tray to Mistress Hawke right away," he commanded. "It would be in your best interest to make sure she eats it."
Lavenar stepped forward, picking the tray up in his hands. "At once, Master," he replied, gesturing for his daughter to follow him down the hall.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Elenia moved close to her father, whispering in his ear. "Did you see what he did, father?" she asked, a look of concern on her face. "Should we really give that to Mistress Hawke? After all, we don't know what he put in it, and she has been so very kind to us."
"Hush, Elenia," Lavenar said, glaring at her. "We must follow Master Denarius' directions to the letter. You know what will happen if we displease him."
"But, Papa…" Elenia began, her voice trailing off as her father stopped, grabbing her by the arm.
"We have to be concerned with our own lives, my daughter, not Mistress Hawke's," he said angrily. "No matter what you may think of her, she is not our concern. Only the wishes of our master are to be considered." Lavenar had been in Denarius' service since before his daughter was born, and he had seen firsthand what happened to female elves who displeased the magister. Regardless of the kindnesses the Champion had shown them, he could not risk having his daughter passed among the soldiers; as was the punishment for disobedience.
The pair approached Alexa's door and the guards immediately unlocked it, allowing them entrance into her chamber. Feynriel sat at her ornate writing desk, reading through a dusty tome. He looked up and smiled as they entered the room.
"Good morning, Lavenar, Elenia," he said kindly, inclining his head respectfully toward them. "I see you have Mistress Hawke's breakfast with you. She is currently still asleep. If you would be so kind as to leave it on her dining table, I will see that she gets it as soon as she rises."
"Master Denarius wanted us to make sure that Mistress Hawke eats her porridge," the elder elf said nervously. "He is concerned that she is not getting enough nourishment."
Feynriel frowned. Hadn't he just told them he would look after her? "I understand your orders, Lavenar," he said politely, "and I will make sure Master Denarius' wishes are met. Now, if you will excuse me, I do not wish to wake Mistress Hawke with too much conversation."
Not wanting to displease their master's apprentice, Lavenar bowed respectfully. He had been privy to several conversations regarding the young mage, and he knew that the boy could be quite dangerous if provoked. "Of course, Master Feynriel," he said, walking backward toward the door. "Please let us know if there is anything further you need."
"I will," he answered as the slaves knocked quietly on the door. It was opened quickly, and the elves left the room. As she exited through the door, Feynriel caught Elenia glancing fearfully at the breakfast tray. She really is a skittish thing, isn't she? he thought as he shook his head, turning his attention back to his studies.
o~~~~~~~~o
Sebastian exited his stateroom, moving slowly but purposefully toward the galley. Sleep had been elusive throughout the night. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw Alexa's smiling face and felt her body pressed against him, her lips gently touching his. If only I hadn't been such a coward, he berated himself, I would have been with her when the trap was sprung and she would be safe in my arms now. Shaking his head sadly, he walked through the open door; the smell of freshly baked bread helping to rouse him from his lethargy.
"Morning, Choir-Boy!" Varric called from across the room. "You look like nug shit, if you don't mind me saying so." Sebastian flinched slightly at the nickname the dwarf had given him. His relationship with Varric was tenuous, at best. The dwarf had made no secret of his disapproval of Sebastian from the first moment they met. The prince was far too serious and righteous for the jokester's taste. Furthermore, he was sure that his romantic interest in Alexa was another point of contention with her closest ally. No one in their group was more protective of Hawke than Varric, and Sebastian was positive that the dwarf found him to be less than worthy of her affections.
Grabbing a plate of food, Sebastian approached the table, taking a seat next to Isabela. "Thank you so very much, Varric," he replied sardonically. "Sleep was hard to come by last night."
At that moment, Anders entered the galley; his face a pallid shade of green. "I hate ships," he groaned, making himself a cup of tea and sitting down next to Merrill; resting his head in his hand.
"Why, Anders, the color in your cheeks matches the gray in your robe wonderfully," Isabela remarked, laughing at the furious glare that the mage turned her way. "So, I take it that the 'Great Renegade Apostate' isn't going to be looking for a job as a sailor anytime soon?"
"No, Isabela, I won't," he spat angrily. "And if your navigating skills were a bit better, the damned ship might not lurch this much; and then I wouldn't need to…" He trailed off, his eyes opening wide as he quickly rose and fled from the room, his hand covering his mouth.
"Well," Varric said, "it appears that Anders will be unavailable for this particular discussion. I'll be sure to catch him up on everything later, when his head isn't hidden in the nearest bucket."
Nodding toward Fenris, Varric continued, "I called this meeting so that we can all get familiar with the specifics of our current task. We can't expect to fight Denarius if we don't know what his plans are. Broody, the table is yours."
Sighing heavily, Fenris looked down the table, his eyes taking on a hard edge as his gaze met Sebastian's. He would have preferred not to share such intimate details of his life with the prince; but after speaking with Varric, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to help bring Alexa back home. "I wanted to tell you how I received these markings," he began quietly, his eyes turning toward the dwarf; mostly for his own comfort. "Denarius and several of his magister companions worked for many months on a process by which they could combine lyrium with the natural fighting prowess of a warrior. I knew they were doing extensive research on something to further their own power, but that was not unusual. I never imagined, however, that I would be included in their plans."
"The group met at Denarius' castle late one night to finally complete their experiment," Fenris continued. "A lavish dinner was prepared and they celebrated late into the evening. When at last they were done, I was escorted to the basement laboratory. There I was bound to a stone altar, and a table containing various surgical instruments was pushed into the room. Denarius used a quill to draw lines on my body where he wished to insert the lyrium. Then he withdrew his dagger and began cutting…"
"Oh!" Merrill cried, covering her face with her hands. "Do we really need to hear about this?"
"The blood mage has a problem with violence?" Sebastian asked, glaring at her. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe." Turning his attention to Fenris, he nodded. "Continue," he said quietly, ignoring the angry stare he received from Varric. The dwarf, always protective of the young elven woman, was rubbing Merrill's arm to comfort her.
Fenris drew in a deep breath and gazed at the center of the table. "Denarius carved along the intricate lines he had drawn; deep enough to leave crevices in my skin," he said, his voice missing some of its usual strength. "He used magic to paralyze me. I couldn't move, but I could feel every touch of the blade as it dug into my flesh. After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped and stood back, admiring his handiwork." At this declaration, the room fell completely silent; all eyes locked on the shaking elf.
"I know you don't want to do this," Varric said quietly, "but you need to tell us the rest. It's for Alexa."
"I know," Fenris replied, taking a sip of his hot tea. "A large bowl of glowing blue liquid had been placed on the table next to me at the start of the ritual. Using a small funnel, Denarius poured the mixture directly into the cuts in my skin. I think I remember screaming, but the pain was so all-consuming, I cannot be sure. After he poured the lyrium into an area, he would use fire to solidify it. This process continued until at last, his creation was complete."
"Maker, Fenris," Isabela said, shaking her head, "I cannot imagine how you recovered, after going through something like that."
"I didn't," he replied, "at least not for a long while. It was many weeks before I was able to move about on my own. Several months passed before I was able to fight. Denarius' companions, the ones who helped him perform the ritual, never survived to see their experiment come to fruition. Immediately following the ritual, he invited them all into his den for a celebratory drink. There was poison in the wine, of course, and none survived. Denarius, alone, lived to profit from his evil experiments. Such is the way with Tevinter magisters, it would seem."
"And now he plans to do this to Alexa!" Sebastian said, rising from the table and clenching his fists. "We cannot allow that to happen! Maker, please, not Alexa…" he whispered, turning his back to the group and approaching the window, his shoulders silently shaking.
Isabela turned to Fenris, her eyebrow raised questioningly. "I don't know much about lyrium," she began, "but I have heard that if it is mistakenly mixed into the bloodstream, it will drive the victim insane. How did they manage to pour pure lyrium into your body without destroying you?"
"I know little of magic, myself," Fenris replied quietly, "but I have always assumed it had something to do with the chanting of the mages that aided Denarius. The room filled with a blue mist; and while I felt every touch of the knife upon my skin, I never felt the lyrium at all."
"It would take immense magic to maintain such a barrier around a body," Anders said quietly, stepping carefully into the room and taking a seat near the door. "To keep the lyrium from escaping into your system. That would explain why he needed so many magisters to aid him."
"If that is the case," Varric spoke up, "why is he taking Alexa to Ferelden? I would think it would be better for him to take her to Minrathous. What can he hope to find in the Wilds?"
All attention turned to Merrill as she gasped loudly in surprise, her hand rising to her throat. She glanced at Varric, her eyes wide with fear. "Asha'bellenar…" she whispered softly. "He seeks her aid. Oh, Varric, this is worse than I imagined."
o~~~~~~~~o
Alexa opened her eyes, gazing around her room. "Maker, my head," she moaned, sitting up and squeezing her eyes shut to keep out the light. Her head felt as though she had spent a complete week at the Hanged Man, drinking way too much of its cheapest ale with Varric.
Varric… as soon as she thought of the dwarf, Alexa's head throbbed in even greater pain. "Ouch!" she cried, lying back on her pillow.
"Mistress Hawke? Are you alright?" a vaguely familiar voice called from the other side of the canopy drapes. Alexa rose quickly, looking around for something with which to defend herself. Ignoring the rising pain in her temples, she cautiously opened the curtains; her eyes opening wide as she recognized the figure seated at her desk.
"Feynriel?" she asked, climbing out from under the covers and stepping onto the floor. She smirked at the blush that crept up his cheeks at the sight of her gown. "What in the Maker's name are you doing here?" Before he could answer, her eyes flew open wide. "No! Don't tell me Denarius has captured you, as well! I am so sorry, Feynriel! Together, though, we may be able to get out of here." She flinched, the pain in her head returning with a vengeance.
Taking her by the arms, the young elf led her to the nearby settee, gently placing her upon it and quickly retrieving a nearby cup of tea. "Here, drink this," he said and placed the steaming mug in her hands. "It will make you feel better."
Alexa sipped the herbal liquid. Though her head still hurt, she felt far more relaxed. "I don't understand, Feynriel," she said quietly, "why would Denarius abduct you, as well?"
"He didn't abduct me, Mistress Hawke," the elf said calmly, placing a hand on her arm. "He didn't abduct you, either. Don't you remember why you are here? Master Denarius is helping you search for the man who betrayed you and killed your mother."
Alexa shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach, and her headache had intensified. "No, that can't be right! I clearly remember a… message, I think it was. Something about Fenris and danger… and then, he took me… I know he took me, Feynriel! I am almost positive…"
"Mistress Hawke, please!" Feynriel said, concern evident in his eyes. "Of course you received a message about the escaped criminal. I have no doubt that you were warned about the danger he was to you." He clasped her hand when she began shaking her head at him. "It's true, Mistress Hawke, please believe me. I… wouldn't want to see you injure yourself again!"
"What?" she asked, staring intently at him. "Injure myself? What are you talking about, Feynriel?"
Great, Feynriel, the elf thought to himself. You aren't very good at this 'deception' thing, are you? Now what are you going to say? "It's… the reason for your headache, Mistress," he explained carefully. "You forgot why you were here yesterday, and you… tried to leap from the ship. Master Denarius caught you, but not before you hit your head."
"That doesn't make sense, Feynriel," Alexa said, suspicion clouding her eyes. "I cannot imagine that I would toss myself from the ship. Tossing Denarius? Yes, I can see that perfectly well. But myself? I don't think so. What aren't you telling me?"
"The boy is only trying to spare you the truth of it, Mistress Hawke," Denarius said as he stepped into the bedroom, the door locking behind him.
"Truth? And what would you know of truth, Denarius?" Alexa said, rising from the settee and moving away from the mage; her arms crossed over her chest.
The magister sighed softly, shaking his head at her. "I do not wish to bring you any more pain, Mistress Hawke," he began, "but I cannot allow you to continue deceiving yourself, either. Recently you have been confused as to your reasons for being here. I have tried to help you remember the specifics of the incidents in Kirkwall, but there are still times when your memories slip. Yesterday was one such time."
Alexa felt the first stirrings of doubt as she saw the look of sadness that crossed the mage's face. "You rushed from your room, certain that you were being held against your will," he explained. "Unfortunately, the first people you came across were my servants, Lavenar and his daughter, Elenia. They tried to keep you from rushing onto the deck and.. there was an incident."
Remembering the elves that had shown her such kindness, Alexa began shaking. "What happened, Denarius?" she asked, her voice quavering. "What did I do?"
"I am so sorry, Champion," the mage said, crossing the room and placing his hands on her arms. "I wasn't able to reach them in time…"
"NO!" Alexa cried, pulling away from him and turning her back so he wouldn't see her tears. "I… I couldn't have hurt them! I just couldn't!"
"Though it goes against my better judgment, I could show you the bodies," he said quietly. Alexa shook her head, unable to speak.
"You cannot blame yourself, Alexa," Denarius said, pulling her into his arms and rubbing her back gently. "The one responsible for all of this pain is the criminal who so viciously attacked you and killed your mother. He is the one who caused your memory loss, and I hold him solely to blame for the deaths of my servants. I could never blame you for that over which you had no control."
Broken sobs wracked Alexa's body and she held tightly to Denarius' robes, burying her face in his chest. "I am so sorry," she cried. "So very sorry…"
"Everything will be alright, Alexa, I promise you," Denarius said softly. "We will find him and he will pay for what has happened to us all."
Pulling back from her, he wiped the tears from her face. "I would not see you sad any longer, Alexa," he declared, smiling gently down at her. "I have to meet with the captain regarding our arrival in Denerim. I will leave Feynriel here to keep you company. Please try to eat something. I worry about your health."
Denarius walked toward the door, motioning for Feynriel to follow him. They stepped into the hall, and the expression on Denarius' face changed from compassion to anger. "You almost cost us everything today, Feynriel," he said, glaring down at his apprentice. "Had I not arrived when I did, Mistress Hawke would have discovered our plans to protect her and all would be lost!"
"I know, Master," the elf replied, his head hung low. "I am so sorry. It will not happen again."
"No, it won't," Denarius replied. "Now, get in there and make sure Mistress Hawke eats her breakfast. I have included something in the porridge to help her sleep. Once she drifts off, it will be your job to make sure she sees exactly what we wish her to see."
"Master," Feynriel said, his eyes filled with worry, "what will you do about Lavenar and Elenia?"
"Their fate is not your concern, Feynriel," the magister replied. "You concentrate on Mistress Hawke. I will make sure Lavenar and Elenia are kept from sight for the remainder of the voyage."
Bowing low, Feynriel opened the bedroom door. "As you wish, Master," he said respectfully.
Denarius strolled purposefully down the hall, stopping before a pair of guards. "Take the elven cook and his daughter to the back of the ship," he commanded. "End it quickly and see that their bodies are dumped over the side. And bring up replacements from below for my galley!" The soldiers bowed and hurried down the hall.
Denarius entered his suite, smiling as he removed his robe and climbed into bed. Though his apprentice had made a potentially fatal error, he had recovered quite well. The Champion was a passionate woman, who wore her emotions for all to see. Guilt would work wonders toward bringing her closer to him. Now that he had Alexa's heart in his hands, he had no intention of ever releasing it.