The Name of the Saarebas

by normanny

I am a human, a mage, a Saarebas, a qunari. But above everything else, I am Reneka Hawke. When my leash finally broke, I managed to escape after years of imprisonment. However, I had no idea that my path was taking me to the people who I had yearned to meet again. People who would teach me to use my mind to protect, not to destroy. (Romance in future, but it's not the main focus.)

11. Chapter 11 - Teamwork

Special thanks to the readers and BioWare!

Sorry if Fenris doesn't seem as broody as he was in the game. God I hated that brooding. I apologize to those who love his brooding if he isn't broody enough in this story.

SPECIAL EDIT: Thanks to a lovely reader, the error of Fenris' ability to read has been spotted, thank you! I've rewritten some parts of the chapter to support the fact that he was illiterate in the game (I had totally forgotten it). Hope you still enjoy it!

After hearing that Fenris had once been a slave, I had to stop him, leaving him quite puzzled. If I continued to listen in silence, he could have got the impression that I wasn't interested or had a problem accepting his story.

My hands moved swiftly under the pressure of being stared at and the words I wrote on my paper looked weird, like a five year old child had scribbled them. Fenris frowned as he looked at the message, but his eyes didn't follow the letters for some reason. Still, I showed him proof that I wasn't joking by opening my mouth.

"I must admit, I wouldn't have guessed even though the way you communicated till now was...strange, to say the least," he said and gave the paper back.

I had to smile, because I knew for the best how silly my gestures seemed at times. Despite having lived with the disability for so many years, I still struggled to express myself due to the lack of people who would be willing to talk. Most of the hand signs I had used among the other Saarebas mages had whole different meanings in their language. Even a simple nod could have been an insult if used in a wrong situation.

There was a peculiar look in Fenris' eyes which caused me to blink in confusion. "I was wondering who did this to you," he finally broke the silence. "I know only some certain people who have suffered the same fate, though I'm not comparing you to them. If it's personal, then I won't inquire further."

A lump in my throat blocked my breath for a moment before I calmed myself down. Before interrupting him, Fenris had clearly stated his disgust towards the magister who had enslaved him and bore no love for others like him. His question made me believe that he was aware of the qunari customs. I felt a drop of sweat rolling on my temple as I imagined his reaction, but I had no right to lie.

The qunari, I wrote.

Again, Fenris didn't read the words, just looked at them briefly and then glanced at me before turning his attention elsewhere, as if I had offended or he had something to hide.

As a reflex, I withdrew the paper and concealed it from Fenris, afraid that my actions had caused his view of myself to change radically. My surprise was genuine when he gave almost an embarrassed chuckle.

"I might be one of the most difficult people for you to communicate with then," he said, his voice slow and quite hesitant. "The truth is I never...learned to read."

Fenris clearly wished not to discuss about such a disadvantage. I could understand him, because I used to make every effort not to reveal my weaknesses as well. His illiteracy was a trait some individuals might have thought awkward, him included. Especially due to his past as a slave which must have been humiliating enough.

The paper in my fist crumbled and I stuffed it inside my pocket. Figuring no other way to answer Fenris, I used my hands to portray a pair of horns on my head. If he was as cognizant of the qunari as I believed, he wouldn't have any problem at guessing what I meant.

"The qunari," Fenris said as quickly as I had expected and I nodded.

I was startled to see Fenris' expression change into hatred for a moment, although I had expected that, as well as the dangerous sensation of lyrium. He eyed at the corpses lying around in the alienage and clenched his fingers just enough so that the steel covering them chinked. I detected a threatening aura around him, but it didn't make me step back. I couldn't keep running away from the people who despised my kind.

"That explains a lot," Fenris sounded as if he was vary of his words. "I see no weapons on you and no human being would be able to cause this sort of carnage bare-handed. Not without magic."

I inhaled sharply, pondering of how to respond. The qunari considered mages as tools of war, so despite being hated I had still been useful in a sense, as long as I wore a heavy collar. Fenris was the first man I had met in ages who had the eyes of someone who would kill a mage just to lessen their population. The glare I had witnessed while listening to his description of his former master had been as terrifying as the Arishok's.

I lowered my gaze and stayed quiet. My mind was full of explanations that could have made Fenris believe that I wasn't like the magister, but he wouldn't be able to read them. A few simple hand gestures and acting would only look confusing, not helping the matter at all.

Sighing, the elf crouched to search the pockets of the man whose heart he had ripped out. I didn't want to seem too nosy, but couldn't refrain myself from glancing carefully.

"I was right," Fenris spat and rose up. "Danarius has been in Kirkwall recently and it looks like he brought his finest with him from Tevinter."

Before I could confirm if Danarius was the name of the magister, Fenris leered at me, his face firm like stone. "I need to confront him before he disappears again," he said. "Even if it's magic, I wouldn't say no to an offer of help. It might even be the only power that can stop him, permanently."

The way Fenris spoke gave me chills and he made me remember the times when I had been forced to fight before my old wounds had healed. His anger wasn't the same as a qunari's and I was aware that helping him didn't mean that I was an expendable asset. It was the scent of blood and the determination to end a life that concerned me about him. I hadn't sought for revenge and seeing people who did alarmed me a little. Of course I wouldn't hesitate to kill my Arvaarad if I had a perfect chance, but it wasn't something that could control my life. For me, my family, freedom and people like Anders or Isabela were more important than revenge.

If helping Fenris kill his former master meant that he too could start again without a wolf sneaking behind him, I had to oblige. I didn't need his acceptance and I was the least ideal person to make him see the good side of mages. My magic was bloody and I had too little ability in healing magic to show him the beauty stored in spells.

I nodded to him and climbed the first step of the stairs, indicating my willingness to go with him.

"You sure you don't need to clean up first?" Fenris asked and I was certain that he smirked.

I looked at my red clothes and shuddered when picturing my mother's gaping mouth at the sight of her daughter being soaked in blood. My head shook and I quickly spotted a waterskin on one of the mercenaries. I ran to grab it and emptied the contents on my blood-stained face and hair, inhaling deep when the liquid washed off the sweat on my forehead and removed the smell of iron that had become unbearable due to my lyrium strengthened senses.

When I walked back to Fenris, he was still keeping his guard up, but the lyrium on his skin didn't glimmer. I had no doubt that he would attack me if my magic became a threat to him, but I trusted my instincts. The elf hadn't drawn his sword at me, which made me think that I had been given a chance to widen his narrow-minded view of mages or at least of me.

#

As we proceeded to Hightown where Danarius was according to Fenris, I had managed to ask about his knowledge of the qunari by imitating horns with my hands again and pointing by finger between us over and over again.

"I know only a little," he said. "I do know that other races can convert to the Qun, although I've never heard of a human Saarebas."

Wasn't my choice, I wanted to say, but ended up gazing at the ground instead.

Fenris glanced at the sky for a moment, like he was estimating how much time we had till the sunrise. "For the qunari to take interest in a human mage is unusual," his voice was low, almost a whisper. "What I saw in the alienage... I've only seen blood mages tear a whole unit of soldiers apart, but you're not injured. And I feel a strong force in you, even though I shouldn't be able to despite my markings."

I had survived the qunari because of my power, just like Fenris had survived the magister because of his markings. They were valuable to the horrible man who had burned them on his skin and I had been the only mage who could eat red lyrium, thus keeping me alive had only made me strong enough to finally escape.

"How do you plan to use that power now that you're not with them anymore?" Fenris asked.

My legs slowed down till I stopped entirely. It was my desire to learn more about the world that was so alien to me. I had received all the information in my head from the qunari and they weren't the best teachers.

One of the most brutal truths they had made me believe for years was that nothing couldn't be achieved without a struggle and most of the time it involved blood. For me, waking up in the morning was a great achievement, but the qunari felt successful only after a victory in a battle. Everything else, from having a child to overcoming a disease were just steps in one's life and deserved no celebration.

As I stared at Fenris, the lyrium inside me felt unwelcome and it opened my eyes. Ever since eating the first tiny bit of red lyrium, I had hated the new kind of heat in my body and thought that it made me less human.

But the qunari weren't there any longer and I had people around me who didn't see me as a piece of trash. I was free and my fights weren't to please the others, but to hold on to the things I now had. With Anders' help, I could use my power to protect, not destroy. If I could achieve that, then maybe I wouldn't feel so disgusted and embarrassed of casting magic in front of others.

With some poor imitations, I attempted to depict a process of change, using an example like growing from small to large. After that, I put my palm flat against my chest and kept repeating the little scene until Fenris could figure my intended answer.

"Change and...you?" his index finger brushed his chin. "You...want to change yourself. Is that it?"

I gave a small grin.

"Hmm," Fenris muttered and I had no idea what he thought of me. I wished to get to know him better and planned which spells I shouldn't show him in order not to seem like an uncontrollable abomination.

He stopped after we arrived at a district full of large, decorated houses. His eyes scanned the doors while all I could do was to wait. Every building looked so same to me, with their tall windows and pillars supporting the front cote. I smelled a scent of flowers coming from small pens located in the yard and appreciated how clean the streets were compared to Lowtown. Hightown still reeked of trouble for someone like me and I would always choose the underground if that and a noble's house were my options.

Fenris approached a house that was separated from the others and touched its wooden door, as if he was sensing what was inside. "This must be it," he said and stepped back. "There's the same carving on the frame Danarius has left on other buildings owned by him. A ward of sorts."

I nodded and followed him inside. I expected to be ambushed, but there were no living souls in the hallway. The corners were dusty and some of the paintings on the walls were on the verge of dropping. It felt like months had passed since someone had lived in the house and I saw disappointment on Fenris' face.

"If this is your way of trying to turn me away, then it's not working, Danarius!" Fenris shouted loudly, causing me to wince in surprise.

I could understand his hunger for the magister's blood, although he was like a completely different person than the one I had met in the alienage. His eyes were pretty as Jethann's, but filled with rage and unrest. I wondered if my gaze would have been similar had I stood up against the qunari instead of quivering in the Saarebas' quarters.

Room after room, we wandered through the house and found nothing. The building was abandoned, but Fenris refused to give up. I tried to direct his attention at the spider webs, broken jars and moldy corners and he still believed that Danarius had been there. I was happy to lend my skills to help, but the stubborn elf was gradually making my blood pressure rise.

The sensation made me bite my lower lip. The qunari had always demanded swift results and swung their swords before asking questions. It horrified me to realize that I had adapted their impatient behavior. Rather than have a strategy of how to defeat my enemies with cunning and simple spells, I resorted to the most devastating magic possible in order to bring a situation to a conclusion.

As I gritted my teeth, Fenris whipped his head at me and squinted. "No offense, but it is a bit alarming that I, out of all people, can detect that power of yours," he snorted. "You can control it, right?"

My lips parted and I looked away. The past had yanked me to the wrong direction again and the red lyrium in my system had responded to those feelings. My cold fingers were warmed in no time, urging to throw a fireball at someone.

What my Arvaarad had repeated to me before a battle was more true than ever. The red lyium grew in potency depending on how enraged the mage was. I hadn't even noticed how angrily I had fought while drugged, despite the proof of scattered maimed corpses.

The fact of my reckless casting of magic hit me hard, but Fenris gave me something else to think about when he halted at the door that lead to the main hall, a serious look in his eyes.

"I'm going to trust you, because I'm quite certain that trouble is waiting for us behind this door," he said and placed his hand on the door knob. "I smell blood and wouldn't be surprised to encounter demons. Danarius fancies sending them to do his dirty work."

I walked closer and froze when the lyrium caused me to sense an overwhelming force in the hall. Because gesturing the word 'dangerous' seemed like an impossible thing to do, I tried to look as concerned as I could, my brow furrowing and my lips pressed into a line.

"We have to be fast," Fenris whispered, gripping the handle of his sword.

I was no tactician, but even a fool wouldn't storm against an army of Maker knows what, not even during a quest for vengeance. When Fenris shifted forward, I unconsciously grabbed his arm. His markings flashed with dim light and I let go only when he glanced at me. He was more bemused than shocked.

I showed him my palm, expressing my wish for him to wait and he stared at me like I wasn't making any sense, considering the situation.

I gestured him to take a few steps back and he reluctantly complied. To concentrate, I thought about my family and Anders, erasing the image of Fenris disapproving my abilities. I couldn't change my magic in an instant and had to believe that the elf wouldn't see me as a threat.

My fingers curled and I began to prepare the spell of creating a blizzard. The red lyrium decreased the spell's temperature even more and I forbade myself from taking a glimpse of Fenris' reaction. The air swirled around me and I got chills, even though the ice wasn't real. Noises could be heard from the main hall, but not even a demon would be able to cancel my finished, empowered spell.

After taking a deep breath, I kicked the door open and walked forward just enough to launch the blizzard into the room. My arm made half a circle when I swept it from down towards the ceiling and my mind spoke the words that evoked the icy storm. I retreated and saw at least a dozen shades and a Rage Demon. The flames that coated the Rage Demon stood no chance against my ice and it bellowed under the power it couldn't defeat. The shades lost their leader in the blink of an eye and attempted to exit the range of my spell.

I signed Fenris to take position at the door and stayed still to lure in two shades that the ice couldn't trap. They glided above the floor and sensed no pain whenever the blizzard damaged them. Their blank expressions stirred me as I ordered myself not to run.

As soon as the first shade got through the open door, Fenris struck it with a blow that could have snapped a human's neck instantly. He finished the opponent by cutting it from shoulder to waist and side-stepped before the other shade could reach him. I had seen my brothers wielding greatswords and knew that no minor protection spell would be efficient against such a weapon. In Fenris' hands, the sword seemed as light as a stick and he kept swinging it faster than a normal human or elf ever could. I could hear the whistling of the blade as he slashed the remaining shade, almost decapitating it. Black ooze streamed from the enemy's neck and it made no attempt at covering the wound.

As the shade slumped on the floor, the blizzard in the main hall died down, leaving all the frozen creatures behind. The ones that were still alive but immobilized got shattered by the pommel of Fenris' sword. I felt how the lyrium on his skin boosted his strength to break the thick ice.

Fenris sheathed his weapon and brushed the white frost off his gauntlet. "It's been a while since I've witnessed a spell that mighty," he glanced around and met my eyes. "I thought only blood magic could kill so many enemies at once."

There was no way that I could have told Fenris how I too had been commanded to use my blood after running out of mana. I had also done it willingly couple of times and wasn't proud of it. Even if he were to call me a freak, the truth about the red lyrium was a far easier option than trying to hide the facts behind circling lies. I had experienced that while honesty often gave me broken bones, even a single lie could have been enough to lose my whole skin.

The moment of silence was short-lived as I sensed another being in the room and spun around, gazing everywhere to locate the source.

"What now?" Fenris didn't sound surprised.

I gasped when a demon with magic popped out on the second floor at the other end of the room. It held an arrow-like object made of spiritual energy on its palm. My eyes tracked the arrow as it was shot against the chandelier right above us. The clinking of the crystals was the trigger that made me clasp my fingers around Fenris' wrist and teleport us out of the way.

After we reappeared on the same floor as the Arcane Horror demon, the look on Fenris' face was the most mysterious. I quickly released his hand and prayed the spell hadn't caused him to resent magic even more.

"Alright then," Fenris changed his stance. "Whatever that power you have is, it's starting to seem quite useful."

He squeezed his sword and opened his right hand. I saw how his pupils shrank and the energy he unleashed was so strong it created a small breeze that blew tresses of hair off his forehead. His tattoos shone for a moment and his body was fading, like he was standing in a mist. Had I not known that Fenris wasn't a spirit, his current appearance would have fooled me to think otherwise.

The Arcane Horror waited no longer and gathered magical fire between its palms. As Fenris slowly exhaled, I found myself oddly calm and had confidence in the elf. I believed that it was time for my body to rest and have trust in something else than my own power for a change.

Faster than I could perceive, Fenris charged the enemy and cut through the demon's side, tearing the cloth and flesh beneath it. The Arcane Horror grunted with a deep voice and my fists balled when it cast a burst of fire at Fenris. Nervously, I was about to hold my breath, but the opponent's spell couldn't damage Fenris. I saw the flames on his arm and stared in awe when he counter-attacked, uninjured and still blurry due to the lyrium markings.

The more his blade slashed the target, the quicker his movements got. Only because of the red lyrium I was able to see in which directions Fenris evaded. Even when the demon attempted to trick him by casting an illusion of itself, the elf wasn't deceived and his tattoos acted as an accelerator when his elbow hit the Arcane Horror's jaw hard, crushing it.

The enemy's spells were interrupted over and over again and the scene made me think myself as a fortunate person for not being the mage as Fenris' opponent. I had witnessed the templar magic and the qunari devices that were used to control or kill mages, but never had I met a warrior like Fenris who seemed to be aware of every possible strategy against my kind.

The Arcane Horror fell on the ground after Fenris cut its arm off. The gushing blood stained the area where he had stood and the walls nearby also got painted with red spots. With no hesitation, Fenris lifted his sword, the tip pointing down at the enemy's throat. One final gurgle came from the demon's destroyed mouth before the blade above silenced it. A twist ensured that the monster was dead and Fenris stepped away from the corpse, not taking even a glimpse of it.

Congratulating after such a bloody battle didn't seem appropriate, so I just nodded my head, gesturing my amazement. As Fenris replied by sighing quietly, I spotted a wound on his arm, close to the elbow. My staring made him notice it as well.

"Ah, I must have hit something sharp on that abomination's face when I attacked it," Fenris inspected the injury, turning his arm and shaking it. "It's nothing, let's move on."

His words suddenly clutched my heart, at least that was how I felt. The qunari were at the top of the list of things I couldn't stand, but not far from them was the group of people who didn't value their lives. Fenris' wound wasn't serious, but I didn't approve the way how he ignored it.

I wasn't the type of person who abandoned others because of their faults. Instead, I accepted them and fought against the urge to argue. Ironically, it wasn't tough for me to keep my thoughts to myself.

Fenris opened the large double door that was behind us and rushed inside before I could suggest that we should have searched the other rooms on the second floor first. I watched him going through the bookshelves and the papers on the table. The noise of his quiet cursing was barely detectable and I slowly followed after him, glancing at the corners full of spider webs and the bed that had no sheets nor any other marks of being recently used.

"He's not here," Fenris stated, his finger sweeping the dust on the window ledge. "Somehow, that doesn't come as a shock."

I gazed at his eyes, seeing the fatigue I had seen in Anders'. Part of me understood his disappointment. If we had discovered Danarius, his death could have granted Fenris his freedom. The other part wondered why the elf couldn't feel free without killing the magister. My tribe was strong and I wouldn't be surprised if they had survived the storm, but I was unshackled. As long as I wasn't wearing the Saarebas collar, whether the tribe was alive or not, I was free.

A thought came to my mind and I hastily tried to convey my message to Fenris. After a while, he blinked several times and snorted.

"Are you asking me if I always fight alone?" he deciphered.

A sound that indicated him being correct came from my closed mouth.

"Does it look like I have?"

The mess I did at the alienage was only possible because I was alone, I would have written on a paper, but found myself powerless to explain the point without proper words. I did my best at trying to make Fenris realize that he and I had been in similar circumstances.

Fenris fell silent for a while before he looked at me and grinned. "I think I know what you mean. It's much easier to use full force against the enemies when I don't have to be concerned about allies. The magic you cast to kill the shades wasn't exactly the kind you would use if your friends were fighting at the field."

I scratched the hair behind my ear, trying to figure out how to make Fenris comprehend. My mind was almost out of ideas and I redrew the image I had used to express my will to change and made every gesture possible to come up with something that would describe a person who I would call an ally or a friend, someone who I'd entrust my back to.

It was stunning to hear Fenris chuckle, as it was the kind that indicated consent. "Interesting," he said as he walked past me back to the main hall. "So you're saying that I should do that too? Have allies?"

Baffled, I gaped at him and wondered how in the name of everything twisted he could have read my clumsy hand movements and translate them into the right phrases. His insight was beyond honed or the first guesses that popped into his head had always been correct. He didn't seem like a lucky person to be, but a skillful warrior who perceived everything around him with precision.

"You're right," Fenris sneered while leering at the pieces of shades on the red carpets on the first level. "I would have been hurt without your help, more badly than this." He looked his wound that was still bleeding a little.

Swallowing hard, I walked to the elf and told myself to relax and have faith in my strength to do more than kill. To make him turn his arm, I tapped on it so that I could see his injury. Waiting for Fenris to comply increased the anxiety inside me, but I knew that if I could implement the red lyrium to enhance deadly spells, surely it would work on healing magic too.

Fenris was willing to give me a chance, though the way I deciphered his expression of squinted eyes could have been wrong. Nevertheless, I brought up the image of Anders healing my wound, focusing on the spell itself. Creating the warm sphere around my hand wasn't difficult and I called forth my lyrium-powered mana. The spell grew in force and I was delighted not to sense any pain. Any stinging sensation would have meant that the healing could have had an exact opposite effect.

I moved my hand closer to Fenris' wound. He remained still and when my palm covered the injury without touching it, my mouth opened in an amazed smile. The spell was healing the cut and as I concentrated more, it began to close up faster. Fenris said nothing, although I was more busy admiring the healing process than worrying about his reaction.

The spell weakened immediately after I had treated one wound, reminding me of the time it would take for me to reach Anders' level. I wasn't exhausted or out of mana, but no matter how I curled and opened my hand, I couldn't generate the sphere of healing again.

I glanced at Fenris who stroked the healed skin and gave me a satisfied grin. "I've seen more miracles in one day than in all the years in Tevinter," he said and I sensed that he had become more relaxed. "A mage unbelievably powerful without blood magic who also uses the same power to cure wounds."

The praise made me blush and I crossed my arms as a sign to kindly ask him to stop.

"I already miss the fresh air," Fenris rolled his shoulders. "You've done more than I could have asked for, so the least I can do is to walk you out, right?"

My lips arched up and I carefully stepped over the corpse of the Arcane Horror, although my clothes were already so bloody that explaining it had been an impossible task to begin with.