Anna stood on legs that refused to stop shaking just inside the grand arena's heavy Iron Gate, chewing on her lower lip. She could hear the roaring of the crowd in the distance, hear them yelling for the "Dog Lord" to come out and impress them. She had been given basic information about what she was meant to do, and privately she thought it was completely ridiculous. But she had agreed to face the threefold challenge, and face it she would. But to jump over a rabid bull? It was she had to do it not once, but nine times. In succession. If she managed all nine jumps, she would face the second part of the challenge: to hang on to the back of the same rabid bull for nine seconds. If she managed that, she would have to slay the bull. With a wooden spear. Joy. If she succeeded in all three challenges of the day, she had been informed that she may request a boon of her challenger, magister Danarius. She already knew what to request: one night with Fenris. She missed his touch terribly, even though they met every night in the fade.
The gate slowly raised with a horrible grinding noise, and Anna walked into the sunny arena. She held her head high, refusing to show how frightened she really was, and as she blinked at the sunlight she was nearly deafened by the roaring of the crowd. When her eyes adjusted, she could see that most of the seats high above her head were filled with magisters and soporati, all having come to see the Fereldan woman face the first set of tasks. The arena was surprisingly warm and not a speck of snow was seen anywhere, indeed the sand beneath her feet was soft, warm and golden. Magic, Anna thought, it must be magic. She walked into the arena's center, stopped and waited. She had no idea what to expect, but figured that if she was in the middle of the arena when the bull was released she would have a choice of which direction to run in.
Then a voice boomed over the arena; Anna startled with shock, but could not see the speaker.
"Welcome one and all! Today we have quite a show for you all! A templar from Ferelden has travelled here to our fair city to face the threefold challenge to win the freedom of an elven slave!" The crowd roared, both with excitement and laughter. Anna refused to acknowledge the laughter, instead she jumped a little from foot to foot to warm up her muscles for what would most likely prove to be quite a dance. If only her partner had not been a rabid bull she would probably have enjoyed it.
"Release the bull!" The voice yelled excitedly, and Anna watched as the gate on the other side of the arena slowly raised. She drew a deep breath and braced herself.
Fenris stood by Danarius' chair, a chain around his neck rendering him almost completely immobile. He kept his eyes firmly trained on Anna, willing her to run like the wind and jump like a gazelle. One misstep and her life would be forfeit. He saw Anna bend her knees and brace herself as the bull lowered its heavy head and ran straight towards her.
Anna could hear nothing above the roaring of her own blood in her ears, not the noise of the crowd nor the furious noises from the bull. She waited, her heart thundering in her chest. Waited, waited, eyes locked on the rapidly advancing beast. The crowd held their collective breaths: would the woman be slain before she even managed the first jump? Thirty feet now, twenty feet, ten feet. And then, Anna was in the air. She looked like a wisp or an air creature with her golden hair streaming behind her as she sailed over the bull as if it was nothing. The crowd cheered; now the real fun would begin. Anna ran through the arena, bull hot on her heels, darting and twisting around to get enough distance to attempt a jump. And there, there was her chance. Anna turned and threw herself in the air, sailing over the beast's heaving back and landing hard in the sand. It hurt her feet, but she did not give herself time to catch her breath but ran as fast as she could.
Fenris leaned forward to see her better, holding his breath and praying to Gods he had not believed in for many years, to let her succeed again. Seven jumps more. No, six. Six jumps now. He could sense the displeasure practically radiating from his master, but he did not care. She was putting her life on the line for him, all for him. The least he could do was cheer for her, like the crowd whenever she successfully jumped over the bull.
The roaring of the crowd was almost deafening as Anna made her last jump, sailing over the beast as if she had wings. She made it seem effortless, but to his shock Fenris could sense her exhaustion and her fear. His heart was racing with her excitement, his legs trembling with effort even though she was the one who had been running. He watched with relief as two handlers froze the bull with a few well aimed winter's grasps before loading it onto a cart and removing it from the arena. Anna stood alone in the middle of the pit, turning her face up towards the sun. Her hair was sweat-slicked and matted with dirt, the leathers she wore were dusty. She was stunningly beautiful in his eyes. Then she turned, and with the cheers and calls from the crowd she exited the arena.
"The first challenge has been met and won!" The announcer called with his magically enhanced voice. "See the second challenge in one hour!"
Anna gaped like a fool at the bull, gleaming with oil and grunting and growling like the previous one had. A rope was tied around its neck, the end of the cord resting on the heaving back. This was ridiculous; did they expect her to manage to hold on to the back of an oiled bull for nine seconds while it did everything in its power to throw her off? Yes, apparently. Anna sighed deeply and stepped onto the edge of the open cage holding the bull. The crowd was whispering, chattering, someone yelled at her to hurry up. Anna felt the intense urge to run like hell in the other direction, but instead she turned her face up towards the seats, trying again to spot Fenris amongst the many hundred that had come to watch this farce. She knew he was there, she could sense him. But seeing him was proving difficult. The quartermaster poked her in the back with his staff.
"Hurry up, dog. Your fans are waiting." Anna gave him a scathing glare, but then climbed onto the back of the angry animal. Immediately, her legs became soaked with oil and she could feel herself slipping. She grabbed onto the rope and twisted it around her hand, trying to press her knees into the sides of the bull. She managed a little, but the oil prevented her from getting much traction. The disembodied voice from earlier called over the arena:
"It is time for the bull ride!" the crowd cheered. "Nine seconds our pretty Dog Lord has to stay on the bull's back." High above Anna's head a red zero appeared. "Let's see how well she manages! Release the bull!"
The cage swung open, a whip struck the bull over the back legs hard enough to draw blood and it set off, running into the arena as if a demon was after it. Anna clung on with everything she was, her hand blistering from the rough rope. This was ridiculous, lethal. She could feel herself slipping. The only thing she had to hold onto was the rope, and she clung to it for her life as the bull jumped around like a mad thing, kicking out with its back legs and twisting back and forth and from side to side to dislodge its rider. Distantly she could hear someone count the seconds she had managed to hold on. Three… four… five… The sudden twist was so sudden Anna lost her grip on the rope and she slid dangerously low on one side. The crowd drew a collective breath: was she going to fall? Was this it, had she failed? But no, she managed to get the rope and pull herself back up. Seven. Fenris closed his eyes and prayed. Eight. Nine! Anna let go of the rope the moment the number was yelled, and as the crowd howled and cheered and roared their approval, Anna ran for her life back to the safety of the pen where the handlers stood ready to restrain the bull. The second challenge had been faced and won.
After the ridiculousness of the earlier challenges, to actually hunt and slay the bull was child's play in comparison, even though the spear broke in half within the first few minutes. Anna stood triumphant, spear head in her raised hand and a foot resting on the dead bull's head. She beamed with pride as the crowd howled their approval and cheered for the day's victor.
Fenris carefully did not look at his master, but could feel the fury emanating from the man like a sinister cloud. It made his blood run cold, but no matter how influential the man was - and he was one of the most influential men in the empire - not even he could change the outcome of public battle in the arena. Anna Hawke had been challenged and she had won.
The first part of the three-fold challenge had been bested.
Fenris could not help but smile as beaming as she did, his entire body alight with her triumph and joy. If he had not been forced to remain by his master's side due to the chain around his neck, he would have gone down into the arena and licked the sweat away from her upper lip before feasting on her mouth. He wanted her and he wanted her now. For an instant, he toyed with the idea of laying her down in the sand of the arena pit and sinking into her right there, seal her victory so to speak. She probably would let him, too.
He was torn from his fantasies by one of the Arena Officials, in the well-known emerald green robe, approaching Danarius.
"The champion has the rights to request a boon from the challenger" he began, clearly nervous to be so close to the magister.
"I am aware of that" Danarius sneered.
"The champion has requested that the Slave Fenris spends the night in her room." For a moment Fenris wondered if his master was going to smite the poor man where he stood; his hand glowed with power. Then he made a rather obvious effort to restrain himself, mouth twisted with displeasure.
"Very well." He released Fenris' chain from around his wrist and handed it to the official. "I expect to have my property returned to me no later than day break." The official bowed deeply and led Fenris away, into the back rooms of the arena.
It was dark, only a few torches lighting the narrow tunnel which led from the staff entrance and into the chambers where the gladiators lived. Fenris ignored the catcalls from some of them and lewd comments from others, most of them about which piece of furniture they would like to bend him over. The chain was more a decorative item than anything else, and a man who was not even soporati had no chance to hold him fast; he could have killed the bastards before anyone realised that he was loose. But he restrained himself and thought of Anna. If he killed these men, as he was itching to do, they would not let him see her. And he needed to see her, damn it! He was aching to see her: two weeks had passed since he laid eye on her last. So he kept his head down and followed meekly behind the official, keeping the memory of golden hair at the front of his mind.
Anna sank into the tub with a pleased sigh. It was really too small for her and she had to twist her limbs in what loosely resembled a sailor's knot to fit. However, the water was clean and warm and did wonders for her stiff muscles. She picked up a bar of sweet smelling soap and started to lather up her aching arms, thinking of little except how to go about sending her eldest brother some sort of message. They were twins, and she could distantly sense him. He was troubled, sad, something clearly bothering him. She tried to send calming and comforting emotions, but wasn't sure if he could sense them. They had never been this far away from each other before, and it saddened her immensely that he was suffering and she could not ease his pain. She sighed and leaned back as much as she could, letting the water loosen her muscles. Her mind strayed, as always, to Fenris. Where was he now? She toyed with the pleasing thought that he laid on the small cot that served as her bed, just waiting for her. It was a nice thought. Once she had satisfied herself that she was as clean as she could be, Anna stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in the soft white robe waiting for her before returning to the small room she had been given in the arena's gladiator stables. She startled with shock when she saw the man standing by the small table, pouring a glass of wine. He was slender, as all elves were, his hair a shocking shade of white-grey. His skin was as pale as the snow, accentuated by the black leather armour covering most of his body but leaving neck and arms bare. Heavy slave cuffs hung around his slim wrists, a matching collar around his neck. The scars that covered the entirety of his body just barely glowed blue with power, a power she could sense coming from him in waves. She wondered if he was even aware of it.
"Fenris" she whispered, as if afraid that he was only a phantom. He turned to her, and it really was him. She would know those pale blue eyes anywhere. He raised the glass to her, raising an eyebrow in question at the same time. Anna let the door slide close behind her as the robe fell to the floor, baring her body to his eyes. She had longed for his touch; everything else could wait until the hunger of her body had been quenched. And as he pulled her close and tasted the sweetness of her mouth, the hardness pressing against her hip reassured her that he, too, had longed for this night. This night that was theirs, only theirs. He would be hers, in her arms, and she could kiss every inch of his skin and trace each scar with her tongue if she so pleased. So that was exactly what she did.