Trigger warning: Brief description of a sexual assault
Varric leaned over and said quietly. "That's the third hand you've lost, elf. You might want to call it a night."
Fenris looked at his dwindling pile of coin. "You're right. I am not paying much attention to the game. I should probably go home."
Isabela gave him a sultry smile. "You can always stay here. In my room. It's awfully dangerous out there at night."
The warrior-elf met her gaze with a half-hearted smile. "Perhaps another time. I am…tired this evening. Goodnight."
"Oh come on," she said in a silky tone, "I know you're curious."
"Let it be Rivaini," Varric said quietly.
The sexy pirate pouted. "Spoilsport."
Outside the Hanged Man, a chill breeze blew in off the water. Fenris headed toward his mansion in Hightown, but his pace grew slower and slower. He didn't want to sit alone in his empty home with only his morose thoughts for company. He turned instead towards the docks where the smell of the salt air reminded him of the brief happy time he spent with the Fog Warriors.
The sound of soft weeping drifted into his dark reverie. It sounded like a young child. Fenris followed the sound to its source—a young woman curled up in the doorway of an abandoned warehouse. The moonlight shone softly on her fair hair and upon the mage robes she wore. The elven warrior stood over the girl with his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly.
The young woman started and put up her hands protectively. "Don't hurt me."
A frisson of shock ran through Fenris when he saw her. The whole left side of her face was bruised. Her eye was swollen shut and her nose and lip were bleeding. Even in the moonlight he could see that her hands were covered with blood. His acute sense of smell caught its metallic scent somewhere nearby. He looked down and saw a crimson pool slowly growing beneath her. "What happened to you? Did you run away from the Circle?"
"I didn't mean to," she said.
"Didn't mean to? I don't understand."
A soft sob escaped her lips. "I thought Travis loved me. He said I was beautiful, that I was special. He snuck me out of the Circle tonight so we could…be together. We made love and he was so sweet. It…it was my first time." A shudder ran through her body. "Then three of his friends came. They…" she choked on her tears. "They took turns while he held me down and laughed. When I tried to fight, one of them hit me. They beat me. One of them," her voice fell to a whisper, "put the hilt of his sword inside me. I got away by casting a sleeping spell on them after they thought I was unconscious."
Rage filled him. "Who are these men? They will pay for this abuse."
She shook her head. "No one will care. They're Templars and I'm just a mage." She looked up at him. "I'm dying." She shivered. "I was trying get to my mum's place so I could see her one more time, but I couldn't walk anymore."
"You are not going to die." Fenris scooped her up in his arms and began to run towards Darktown, to the only person he knew who could heal such grievous injuries.
The door of Anders' clinic crashed open after the second kick. The mage was standing at the back of the dingy room with his staff in hand. His eyes glowed blue and a faint blue aura surrounded him. "So have you finally come to take your vengeance elf?" the voice of Justice challenged.
"Damn it Anders, no! I need…she needs your help."
The blue glow faded and the mage blinked. "Who is it? What happened?"
Fenris brought the semi-conscious girl over to the examination table. "She's a mage. I don't know her name." He gently laid her down. "Four Templars raped her." When he straightened up, he saw that his armor was covered with her blood. His lyrium tattoos began to glow as the fury built in him. "They brutalized her."
Anders looked at her blood soaked robes and Fenris' armor. "Maker help us," he whispered, "There's so much damage inside her."
The white glow of his healing spell illuminated the dimly lit room. The young woman moaned and opened her eyes. She looked up at the mage and said, "I know you. You're the one who helps mages escape the circle." A spasm went through her body. "It hurts," she whispered.
Anders leaned down and caressed her forehead. "I know. I'm sorry. I am trying to stop the bleeding. What's your name?"
"Leah," she gasped before another spasm racked her slender frame.
The mage's hands glowed white again. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "Damn it, there's too much bleeding."
A tear slipped out of her eye. "I know," she said softly. "I was studying to be a healer." She turned her face away from Anders. "Where is the man who found me?"
Fenris came to the other side of the table. "I am here."
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Fenris," he replied.
Leah reached for his hand. "Fenris, thank you for trying to save me. Most people wouldn't."
His heart twisted. He had said something similar to Hawke years ago when she first came to his aid. The elf took Leah's delicate hand in his. It was cold and clammy. He looked over at the healer. "Anders, do something."
The glow around the mage intensified. "I'm trying. It's just that she's lost so much blood. Maker knows how long she was out there before you found her."
Leah's hand slipped from Fenris' grasp and fell back to the table. She closed her eyes. "I didn't get to see my mum," she whispered. "Will you tell her?"
"I'll find her," Anders said. "What's her name?"
"Maggie." Her breathing got shallow. "She lives in…" Her breath came out in a quiet sigh and then stilled.
Anders bowed his head wearily. "She's gone."