If I fail to reply to a review it is simply because I have an awful time with FF net messaging system. I always reply to messages and reviews, so if I don't feel free to prod me :)

I know many of you have expressed a growing dislike of Grace. I just want to say that I absolutely love elves and I hate writing the lines that I do, but it all has a purpose ;) I thought we could with a break from her this chapter. ;)

Thank you to everyone for your reviews, favs, alerts and very kind support! I appreciate it as always :DDD

Chapter 7: Guessing Games

"A cow?"

"No."

"A… goat?"

"No."

"A dragon?"

"That's not a farmyard animal, Fenirs," Marian said.

"A… sheep?" Fenris asked meekly.

Marian rolled her eyes. "It looks nothing like a cloud with legs. It's a horse!"

Fenris examined the stick drawing again. It did have a round body, four long legs and two parts that could be a mane and tail. Still… he could not find any semblance to a horse in her... artwork. He gently laid his hand on the stick that Marian was holding.

"Allow me," he said. Their fingers touched for a mere second, long enough to make Marian blush. Since breakfast they had been sitting next to each other on the cave floor, she drawing pictures and he trying to guess what it was she had drawn. Thanks to Marian's lack of artistic talent it had proved to be a rather elusive challenge.

Marian watched Fenris skillfully draw the outline of a horse complete with mane and tail. To her surprise, he continued to add small details, nostrils, eyes, hooves, distinct definition of muscles and finally a rider with two pointy ears. That made her smile. She arose and walked several steps backwards until she was able to take in the full picture. How he had accomplished to create a wonderfully detailed picture worthy of a place on the wall with a stick would always remain a mystery to Marian.

"How did you do that?" Marian asked. They teach slaves to draw? Of course they don't. He has natural talent. "Have you always been able to draw?"

Fenris quickly scratched out his picture with the stick. Marian was horrified that he had erased it. "I… needed a way to pass the time when I was locked in my room. Luckily, the magisters have yet to find a way to rid the world of sticks and dirt."

"Why did you destroy it?" Marian asked, annoyed that the one interesting aspect of the cave had been removed. "I was still admiring it."

He began to draw again. "Habit," Fenris mumbled under his breath. "I would have been beaten if I still lived in my master's home and the picture was discovered." He began to draw a ship with large sails, speeding along on the ocean. "Freedom of expression is still a type of freedom and we were allowed none."

Maker's breath, Marian thought. Being beaten for drawing a picture? What about the children? What did they do for fun… no, she decided, it's best not to think on that. Marian watched his hand move skillfully, each line and stroke creating another piece of the picture. You are such a mystery, Fenris. I know you would not want my pity but right now, as I watch you struggle to enjoy your talent, I do pity you. She looked away and left him to his drawing. I thought I would get the chance to help you, Fenris. You remind me of my father, being chased across Thedas by men who want to bend you to their will. My only regret is that I will not be able to show you how free people truly live. You will die here with me, unfulfilled.

Fenris stopped drawing before he had completed the picture. He hurriedly erased it with his bare foot. Marian edged closer to him, cautious, wondering if he may be angry. It was not unlike him to be taken by a mood and lash out with harsh words. Fenris had cradled his legs to his chest and his chin was propped on top of his knees. He side glanced at Marian when she sat down next to him closer than expected.

"I hope you did not escape a life of slavery only to die in this dark hole here with me," Marian said. She stretched her legs out in front and rubbed her thighs with her hands to try and regain some warmth. "I am so sorry, Fenris. If anyone deserves to live it's you."

Fenris chuckled. "Funny, I have spent the majority of my life wondering what it would be like to die." He looked at her through his long tendrils of hair and noticed that she had begun to cry. How do I make her stop? He wondered. How many women had he seen cry in his lifetime? They were beaten, sacrificed, raped and tortured. Too many, he decided, to recall or to count. Suddenly, dying in a cave felt like a luxurious way for their lives to end. But Marian… well he was certain she would not think the same. Outside of this cave there was a life awaiting her, full of friends and family. The only thing he could offer her in this grim place was reassurance. "Marian, I would rather die here free than in a collar at Danariaus's side."

She wiped her stinging tears away. "Fenris, there were so many things I wanted to help you experience and to show you," Marian said.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Oh?" he said in a playful way. "Exactly what did you want to show and experience with me?"

A nervous laugh followed by an impressive blush brightened Marian's face. "Well experiencing it with you had crossed my mind," she said without thinking. The surprised, embarrassed and utterly perplexed expression on Fenris's face made it clear that he had been joking. Marian quickly backtracked. "I meant, help you experience the joys of freedom and… show you how fun life can be. That's what had crossed my mind. Not 'it' in case that sounded like I was referring to something… different than what I should not have said or meant." Did that even make any sense? Maker, his cheeks are red. He knows I meant sex. I have insulted his intelligence and his body by trying to deny my attraction. Why don't I just tell him? What does it matter now? Then I can die of embarrassment before starvation.

Fenris looked away. She… meant it in the way that I jested. Why would she want to experience a union with me? The thought played through his mind again and again. He could not reconcile it. I cannot allow this. These thoughts are pointless and unproductive. It would be so easy to … He glanced at her silk shirt and beneath he could see her breast band and the round shape of her nipples. Her cheeks were highly blushed, her lips moist and red, and her elegant neck exposed. Fenris licked his lips. A strange hunger was starting to overtake his rational thought. Perhaps, I could allow myself the occasional distraction. This cave is miserable, more miserable than a ship's hold but she... is quite lovely.

They were sitting in the middle of a cave illuminated by a meager beam of light. The walls were wet with runoff from the ground. Earthy smells permeated the air, refreshing the first day but now it had sunk deep into her clothes and skin. Everything had grown damp, their clothes, the packs, and worst of all the blankets. Last night Marian had shivered after sunset, not that it was particularly warm in the daytime, but at least it was bearable. During her restless sleep the strangest thoughts plagued her mind. She would awake thinking she heard Carver groaning in pain or whispering her name. If her friends and brother were dead, would they start to smell their rotting corpses? If Carver, Anders or Varric awoke would they hear them crying out for help and not be able to reach them? In the morning the impenetrable wall greeted them, their only means of escape and perhaps her brother's tomb. She was losing control, feeling suffocated by their enclosure.

Marian rubbed her eyes. There was no point in crying in front of Fenris. It could wait until night while she lay awake freezing. "This place is getting to me." She looked up through the hole in the rock. "It is so damn cruel. I can see the sky and the trees above taunting us, yet I cannot get there."

That explains it then, Fenris thought. She is simply not herself. I should not take her words seriously concerning coupling. He found that he was disappointed by this revelation and that in itself came as a shock. What is this woman to me? Do I look at her because she is a woman or because there is something more?

"You should try and remain positive, Marian," Fenris said, though he was struggling to do so himself. "Kirkwall is a day away and it would take at least another or more for your friends to return with help."

Marian leapt from the ground and the commotion startled Fenris. She pointed to the collapsed wall. "They are dead, Fenris, or seriously hurt! No one is coming for us and even if they were, by the time they dug us out of this mess we would have starved to death."

"You do not know..." His voice had risen in volume. But Fenris did know. His keen Elven hearing had heard Carver cry out in pain. Beyond that, there had been no other sound that he could readily identify. Now, he was faced with the fact that after his struggle to be free of Danarius he would most likely die in a cave. He wanted to live, he needed to live and experience a life outside of Tevinter.

"I do know!" Marian yelled over his words. She grabbed her pack and threw it against the wall. "Our food is going bad because of the damp. We are running out of water and it's starting to smell in here."

Fenris stared at the crumpled pack. "Well throwing it isn't going to help the food, that is for certain."

How can he be funny at a time like this? Marian wondered. I want to hug him and kill him at the same time. She sighed and then shrugged. Maker what's the point.

Marian retreated to her original sitting spot next to Fenris. He was aware there would be many more breakdowns in the days to come and they would only grow in intensity. Starving to death in a damp hole was never going to be pleasant.

"Fenris," Marian whispered. She moved until her body was facing his and she bent her head so that she could see under his hair and into his eyes. "I do not know what to do."

The closeness and the way she stared at him was uncomfortable. No one had ever asked him for a solution or considered him a source of emotional strength. He had always been told what to feel, what to do and how to do it. Marian, he realized, wanted his support.

"To be honest, there is nothing we can do but wait," Fenris said. It had been the wrong answer. Marian laid her head in her hands and began to weep. Do women outside of the Imperium always cry this much? How do I comfort her? "Do you want me to draw more pictures? I can... draw anything you like."

She started to laugh. This up and down behavior had Fenris perplexed. Why couldn't she bury her feelings? Why did they have to be on the surface for everyone to see? He had learned long ago to keep his emotions hidden. It was a weakness to openly display what you felt. Attachment, longing, envy, pride any emotion would be used against him if the magister was able to get a whiff of it. But Marian... she showed all that she felt without restraint. It is trust, Fenris realized. She trusts me enough to show me her weakness without worry I will use it against her in future.

"Draw me a picture?" Marian reiterated. She smiled and laid a hand on Fenris's shoulder and squeezed it. His eyes stared at her hand as if it were a tarantula perched and ready to bite, but she did not seem to notice his fear. "That is very sweet Fenris." Her hand fell back to her lap. "Do you know what I would like?"

"No," Fenris said. "Unless it is a picture."

Marian smiled her bright unrestrained smile, the one that affected the lower half of his body. "I would like to get to know you better," she said. "If I may die then I would like to know the man who is going to die at my side."

What does that mean? Fenris wondered. He considered her request before speaking. We are, if I am honest, most likely going to die; perhaps this is the time to finally allow someone to know me? I... do not know how to do this. But, he finally accepted that it was now or never.

"I would like that," Fenris simply said to Marian's surprise. "What is it that you would know of me?

Her eyes were half-lidded, full of endearment and emotion. "Everything," she said to his horror.

"I am going to regret this aren't I?"

"Yes," Marian said and she giggled. For Fenris, the sound was beautiful. It was the happiest he had seen Marian since the day of the cave-in. The situation was frightening for Marian, he guessed, perhaps her first real face with death. This set of circumstances would make a normal person act irrationally, maybe say things they did not truly mean out of fear or for a need to feel closeness. The latter was probably true of Marian. Would she know what it meant to be lonely? Was she using him as a pacifier because there was no one else to lean on in her time of need?

He also felt the stress lift from his shoulders. They had focused on their abysmal situation and the inevitable outcome for a day and a half. If it was going to be the end then the time together should be fruitful and any attempt to make it less miserable should be explored.

Marian rose from the ground, her buttocks aching and numb, and walked to her makeshift bed. She gestured for Fenris to join. The bewildered man could not decide if she meant lay on her bed or if he should go to his own. When Marian patted the empty space next to her, Fenris gulped. This is awkward, he thought. What if she tries to touch me again? Would she truly understand if I flinched? What if I react or harm her? I...

He breathed deeply. This was his chance to know someone outside of being a slave, to friend them as a free man. It helped that it was a beautiful woman who had expressed an interest in him.

Fenris did not consider his appearance to be attractive. When he looked at his vine-like markings he saw a grotesque display of his former master's arrogance. He did not know his actual age and he was convinced the ritual that had created his markings had prematurely aged him. It had taken his memory, why would it not take his youth? When he could bear to study his appearance in a mirror, the white hair and darkness under his eyes told the story of the hardship he had endured. Whatever he had been before the ritual it no longer remained. He often wondered if his own mother would recognize him or would she pass him on the street and never know it was her son.

The thought of his unknown family, of a mother and father he would probably never remember angered Fenris. His hands tightly balled and the claw of his gauntlets dug deep into his palms.

I want something for myself, Fenris decided. I have given years of my life to people who spat on me when I walked passed, whipped me, forced me to kill innocents and used me when they desired. He looked over at Marian lying on the bed and he smiled a lopsided determined smile. Her eyes widened, but not out of fear or friendship, he could see it now, there was attraction, lust, maybe more. When she returned his smile it was not a friendly gesture, it was warm and inviting: desire. I want her for me.