Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fenris hated weddings.

Slaves did not dream of such things—especially slaves who were pets of Tevinter magisters. Weddings only served to remind him that marriage was a world he would never be able to enter.

He fidgeted in his new outfit. A black jacket with a high collar fitted over a stark white shirt. The sleeves were carefully tucked into matching black gauntlets. He flexed his fingers slowly and watched the claws curl towards his palm. The metal glistened in the lamplight. Finally, a pair of black leggings trailed down to his usual bare feet. They clung to his muscles in all the right ways, and judging by the appreciative look of the guests in attendance, they also noticed it. 

Danarius had praised the tailor for making his favored slave look so good. For all accounts, Fenris could almost pass for a guest. However, anyone who knew Danarius also knew about the scowling elf slave that followed him everywhere like a menacing shadow.

Fenris, “the little wolf”.

He sighed and subtly rolled his shoulders. He had stood in the same place for over an hour now with the expectation that he would maintain his stoic vigilance indefinitely. Danarius had no best man, choosing instead to have Fenris at his side. Danarius stood next to him before the reverend father while a verse of the canticle was recited. The heady smell of incense, the low light in the room, and the drone of the father made Fenris drowsy. More than once, he caught his head nodding to the side as he began to drift off. 

Finally, the doors at the end of the aisle opened, revealing a bright light that illuminated a woman in a radiant white dress. All eyes were on her as she slowly walked up the aisle, and in true Danarius fashion, he invited almost all the essential magisters and social elite. Rather than wilt under their gaze, she stood up straighter, her head held higher and approached the altar to stand next to his Master. Her maid followed behind her and took the place at her side. The bride passed her bouquet, crystal grace with sprigs of royal elfroot, to the maid and faced her future husband.

Unlike Fenris, who was dressed in black and metal, she was clothed in white silks and chiffon. Danarius had carefully curated their looks to represent a specific image: She, the naïve, virginal wife who needed protection; Fenris, the blade of death behind her that threatened anyone who would covet Danarius’ property.

Fenris’ cheek twitched in irritation at the idiotic display, and he fought a war not to scowl at everyone present. It was all pageantry for Danarius. Everything was a show to give specific glimpses into his life to provoke either envy or fear. No better example of both lay in the lyrium brands that burned under Fenris’ clothes.

When Danarius lifted her veil, Fenris was taken aback.

She wasn’t a Tevinter woman. Her light blonde hair was twisted into an ornate bun, and strings of pearls encircled her head like a layered tiara. She looked at Danarius with eyes as blue as the spring sky, and she wore just enough makeup to enhance her features but not overpower them. Fenris wondered if her lips really were that pink.

She held her small hands out, and Danarius took them into his larger ones. She was much shorter than him and even shorter than Fenris by a few inches, but that didn't stop her from radiating a confident energy.

‘Master will be sure to strip her of that before the honeymoon ends,’ Fenris thought darkly.

She smiled demurely at Danarius, and her eyes were filled with hope. This was her first time meeting her husband, and until a month ago, no one knew Danarius was getting married, let alone looking for a spouse. However, weeks ago, when Danarius sent a carriage full of riches to Kirkwall along with the bride’s future maid, the rumors exploded throughout the upper echelons of society.

Fenris couldn't help but pity the poor woman and was curious about Danarius' plans with the arrangement.

As soon as the couple held hands, the father began booming out the last verses of the canticle, followed by the wedding vows. 

“Do you, Lady Ariana Hawke of the Amell family, take Danarius as your lawfully wedded husband?” he rumbled.

“I do,” she said softly.

“And do you, Magister Danarius, take Lady Ariana Hawke to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the father turned to the groom with an eyebrow raised.

Danarius smirked at her and casually replied with a shrug, “Sure.”

The crowd broke into murmurs and chuckles at Ariana’s expense. She was already being shamed and hadn’t been in the room for more than fifteen minutes. Her hands attempted to retract, but Danarius snatched them back, his fingers digging into her palms. The message was clear: you will stand here and take this. 

The father repeated everything in Tevene, and the couple leaned forward for a short, awkward kiss. They then proceeded down the aisle with Fenris and the maid behind their respective master.

Fenris looked at the elven woman. Her name was Orana, and he had only seen her once before when Hadriana obsequiously made a show of gifting a slave from her house to serve her teacher’s new wife. The following day, Orana and a few guards left for Kirkwall to fetch the bride and escort her back to Tevinter.

Fenris made a mental note to ask Orana about this new mistress of theirs. She had spent nearly two weeks in close quarters with the woman, so she’d be their best expert. He also wanted to gauge if this elven slave was perhaps another spy trained by Hadriana to get information from Danarius’ household. He breathed a soft sigh through his nose. 

‘ Please don’t let her be a spy. I am so tired of killing them,’ He thought in exasperation.

 —-----

At the manor, there was a clothing change before guests arrived. Fenris was stripped of everything except for the gauntlets and donned a pair of loose black breeches. They hung low on his hips to draw one’s eyes downward. How far down do those brands go? An unspoken question Fenris saw throughout the night as he was ogled like a whore at the docks. His marks were on full display, and they had a golden glow in the autumn sunset. He was just thankful that Danarius didn’t order his skin to be oiled this time. That was always difficult to thoroughly wash off, and he was shiny for days.

The gauntlets remained on as an unspoken threat to Danarius’ guests. It was difficult for Fenris to perform menial tasks with his fingers encased in sharp metal, but Danarius didn’t care. He felt that a show of power that elicited fear from his guests was pleasurable to no end.

“Yes,” Fenris’ presence seemed to say, “I am a mere humble slave. However, I am ready to kill any of you if my master commands it.”

So there he was: a mighty warrior, wearing weapons ready for battle, chest bared for all to see, holding a goddamn bottle of wine like a common waiter.

He stood near the newlywed couple, who lounged on Nevarran velvet couches. Danarius and the guests across from him ate canapes on silver trays while Fenris held a bottle of Aggregio Pavali . His emerald green eyes scanned the room for possible threats from the crowd. Even though everyone was vetted, he could never let his guard down. 

Finding no targets for the moment, he turned his attention back to the small group before him. A fat magister, already red-faced from too much alcohol, raised his empty glass to Fenris and shook it as a silent command. Carefully, as if performing delicate surgery, Fenris raised the bottle and expertly poured the chilled red wine without spilling.

He read the glances both women and men cast his way. They did not matter. Any of them who may be so foolhardy as to lust after him were too terrified to make any move. However, he didn’t know if they were stilled by the threat of what Danarius would do or what he might do himself. The barest half smile graced Fenris’ lips at the thought. Despite being a slave, something about him made some magisters quake, even if for a moment, and that pleased him greatly.

He was snapped from his reverie by Danarius, who hoisted his glass up behind the neck of his new bride. Those thoughts must have been too much of a distraction, though, as an errant drop of the cold wine hit the back of Ariana’s neck as Fenris poured. She reflexively shivered and looked up at him. Those mesmerizing blue eyes met him, and he saw fear. Clenching his teeth for a moment, he broke his gaze lest he offend his new mistress. He didn’t know what kind of slave owner she would be, but if she were with Danarius, then it wouldn’t take long for her to be sharpening her claws on any person under her rank.

He focused his attention on the room once again. Watching a room full of magisters and their guests crooning congratulations to the couple for hours was tedious. However, when out of earshot, a very different dialogue played out. Fenris noted that the most unflattering things were discussed in Tevene. Those not from Tevinter rarely knew the language, and the guests preyed on that. Ariana kept giving the sweetest smiles to those who cooed to her in Tevene, even if they called her an ugly sow. 

“Who even is she?”

“Well, you know what he does to slaves…it makes sense that no respectable Tevene woman would want him.”

“She is far too pale. She looks almost sickly even next to the slaves!”

 “I hear she’s from a noble family that sold her to Danarius to pay their debts!”

“Danarius wanted a woman from outside our families. After all that lyrium branding nonsense, who knows what wild ideas he has now.”

“She’s apparently from Ferelden, where her family all died from the blight.”

“It was her poor uncle that took her in. Such a horrible girl. He just had to marry her off right away!”

“Hopefully, she'll give birth to a child within the year, and he can dump her off as some soporati’s concubine. A Fereldan, really!”

“Bringing a barbarian into our bloodlines? I don’t care if she is a mage. Their children will be mongrels at best.”

Fenris closed his eyes to prevent anyone from seeing them roll—a mage. Of course, Danarius would marry another mage. Usually, Magisters carefully selected their mates based on generations of breeding and careful considerations regarding the desired child's traits. Danarius must have something special planned with this coupling but it was not for Fenris to speculate why.

‘These are not proper thoughts of a slave, though. Never question your master, head down, speak only when spoken to, give in to their every desire.’ When he opened his eyes, Fenris caught Danarius casting a predatory glance his way and repeated to himself. ‘Every desire.’

Fenris reasonably had no love of mages. In Tevinter, the most powerful ones were in the magisterium, and those in power tended to be horrible people. They claimed it was necessary for their survival, but it seemed a weak excuse to indulge in blood lust. It was hard not to feel that death and pain would always be intertwined with mages.

Even Ferelden had its own strange brand of blood magic. An Arl of Redcliff had the scandal of his son learning blood magic from a tutor. The Arlessa had been so worried about the Circles that she allowed her son to walk the path of becoming an abomination. The child was only saved because the Grey Warden stepped in, but that didn’t bring back those who lost their lives. Ultimately, mages would always justify their actions and claim it’s for some greater good—utter nonsense.

‘Hopefully, this woman doesn’t dabble in that sort of perverse magic, but knowing Danarius, she probably runs her own cult,’ He growled internally.

No, all mages were just as likely to be selfish and destructive as the Tevene magisters, be they from Free Marches or Ferelden.

‘And soon they will breed even more of them,’ Fenris thought angrily, sickened at the idea of a horde of little Danarius spawn running around the house.

The bride did not drink her wine despite its fine vintage. She swirled it absently in her glass while slowly looking around the room. She did not notice the stares that came her way. Some wished to harm her at her audacity for living, and others wanted to take the young virgin for a ride. Her white wedding gown was replaced by one that had thigh-high slits that gaped as she walked and a plunging neckline that reached her belly. She held very still as though not to let any of her most intimate parts be bared to this pit of vipers.

She stood instantly when the gong sounded for the party to move to the dining room for dinner. Danarius gave her a tight-lipped smile, and she froze like a deer pinned by a hunter. Danarius always went first. However, the social damage had already been done, and she waited for him to stand before moving again. Danarius blew past her and entered the dining room with a pair of his magister friends. They shared a joke between them and began a round of raucous laughter. The mistress stood alone now, and she looked helplessly at her glass. Finally, she turned to Fenris and whispered, “Would it be alright to leave this here, or do I take it in?”

Her voice was soft, and Fenris had to strain to hear her, but finally, he replied in a measured tone, “If you leave it on the table, mistress, the slaves will clean up when the guests are in the other room.”

She nodded and cast a grateful smile at him. His eyes locked with hers again, and he saw the fear from before and a deep sadness. He nodded and strode past her to follow his master into the dining room. He heard the clink of the glass being set down as she hurried to match his steps so she wouldn't be late for dinner.

It took a while for each guest to be seated, and she took her place next to Danarius. He sat at the head of the table, and the next highest-ranking magister sat at the opposite head. Fenris took his honorary place behind Danarius, and the service began. Several courses were served while the guests murmured amongst themselves: more gluttony, more words, more deceptions. 

It maddened him, the highest rungs of Tevinter society getting stinking drunk and gorging themselves on expensive food until they were fit to burst. Slaves were toiling in the kitchen with barely enough to eat, and here was another Altus consuming in one serving what would be used to feed two slaves for a day. That’s not even getting into the lust that oozed from these people. Eyes were looking all around, sizing up each other’s wealth and prestige based on looks and title. More affairs started at wedding receptions than at any other event.

‘Disgusting.’

He expertly stifled a sneer. An impudent slave did not last long in the good graces of even the kindest masters, and Danarius was no kind master.

At the end of the party, as the last of the guests were making their farewells and well wishes, Fenris watched as Danarius escorted Ariana up a long staircase toward the master suite. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. Watching his master consummate a wedding night was not on his top list of things to do before he died, but Danarius insisted on it earlier that morning when briefing him about the day’s events.

—------

“You wish for me to…be in the room with you…with your new bride?” Fenris had asked, quite appalled at the idea.

“Yes, since I’ve never met the woman who knows what plans she may have in store. Just in case she turns out to be an assassin or a desire demon in disguise, I want my little wolf on duty in case I need him,” Danarius replied while stroking Fenris’ cheek gently, moving a lock of white hair from his eyes.

Fenris knew this had more to do with Danarius wanting to show off another display of power. He wasn’t willing to deflower the woman in front of the whole of the magisterium. No, that would be like sharing a new toy. Danarius wanted to claim his prize in front of the one piece of property that he valued more than others.

Fenris felt like throwing up but instead gave a short bow and said that servile phrase: “Your will is my own, Master.”

 —------

Danarius led Ariana to his bedroom. A massive four-poster bed was against the far wall, covered in white silk sheets, and the blankets were turned down. Fenris saw her shoulders tense from behind at the sight of the bed.

To the right was what could be construed as a miniature study. It boasted a well-stocked bookcase, a writing desk, and a fine leather high-backed chair next to a lamp that one only needed to use a simple magic rune to light. Strangely, Fenris noted that a bottle of Starkhaven brandy with two glasses was on a serving tray on the writing desk.

To the left, on the floor, was a low table with several Antivan silk cushions surrounding it. Danarius occasionally ate breakfast there as he read over various letters or a new book on questionable magical practices. He guided the lady to sit on one of the cushions before he sat down himself. Danarius nodded to Fenris, who shut and locked the door with a resounding click.  Then he took his place in front of it. The mistress was utterly trapped, and from the tremors, Fenris saw she knew it.

“Now, my lovely bride,” Danarius began. “I know this is all overwhelming for you: finding yourself in a new land, with a new husband and position. Let me put your fears to rest, my dear. So long as you do as I say, you will live a life of luxury you couldn’t imagine.”

‘Not many can imagine a life in Danarius’ household. Not many want to,’ Fenris thought bitterly.

“So,” Danarius said with a small clap and smile. “Why don’t you serve us some of that fine Starkhaven brandy up there?”

Both Fenris and Ariana were confused about who he was speaking to. Ariana looked at Fenris behind her warily.

“If you could please -” She began before Danarius struck her hard across the face.

She crashed onto the cushion with a yelp, and he grabbed the ornate bun her blonde hair was wound into and lifted her head.

“When I tell you I want you to do something, you do it yourself!” He hissed before slamming her head back down onto the soft surface. 

She lay there momentarily before his commanding voice snarled, “I’m still waiting.”

She scrambled to her feet and hurried to the table, where she picked up the tray, and Fenris saw that her left cheek was already swelling. Her hands shook as she set the tray on the table, and she almost spilled the brandy as she poured. Danarius acted oblivious as he took a long drink from the crystal cup and eyed her hungrily.

“See, my dear, as I said, so long as you obey me, you can enjoy life's finer things. This brandy is from Starkhaven, aged 50 years in only the finest oak casks,” Danarius said with a dark smile.

She nodded her head but did not fill her glass. For several long minutes, Danarius studied Ariana and twirled the glass in his fingers. The edges of the crystal winked in the light and cast colorful fractured rainbows around the room. Ariana sat silently with her small hands balled up in her lap. 

 “Take off your clothes now,” he ordered, cutting through the oppressive silence. 

She paused only for a moment before standing; she was already learning. He stopped her as she was unlacing her dress.

“Stand in the light,” he commanded.

As she moved towards the desk, she glanced at Fenris, and her eyes grew wide with shock. She had forgotten he was still in the room. She paused, still holding the laces in her fingers, when a warning growl from Danarius set her moving again. Fenris looked to the back wall, partially from respect and pity for what his new mistress was about to endure.

She dutifully stripped down to her small clothes, which Danarius also chose, so they amounted to little more than narrow bands of fragile fabric. A primal hum of appreciation came from Danarius, who leered at her openly. She resisted the urge to cover herself from his burning gaze. She had accepted that she could not deny the inevitable. 

“I’m told you are a virgin, is that correct?” He asked as casually as if he were asking about the weather.

“Y-yes, ser,” Ariana said in a soft voice. “I’ve never laid with another man or been touched by one.”

“Good,” he murmured before standing and approaching her. “Because if you’re lying to me, you will not leave this room alive.” Ariana squeaked in surprise, and Fenris looked over to see Danarius stroking her throat almost affectionately. Her body was tense, and she trembled at his touch. “I’m a man with unique tastes, my dear. I expect you will satisfy your marital duties by fulfilling my desires,” he murmured.

Her large blue eyes were trained on his, and she nodded without speaking.

“Good,” he said before giving her a chaste kiss.

He guided her to the bed, where a large, black box was nestled against the footboard. He opened the clasps and displayed the contents to his new bride. Fenris recognized the box and knew what was inside. He knew why she suddenly stared at Danarius in horror. Fear was the most potent aphrodisiac for Danarius, and Fenris knew it all too well. He shut his eyes, but he couldn’t shut his ears to what happened over the next several hours.

What felt like an eternity later, Fenris heard Danarius calling to him. His eyes snapped towards the bed, and he saw Danarius languidly reclining on the pillows in all of his naked glory. Ariana was beside him, on her side, and curled up into herself. Fenris had to look twice to see if she was breathing at all.

“My bride is quite tired from our activities. Please get her maid and have her taken to her room at once,” Danarius said airily.

Eager to leave the hellish room, Fenris turned on his heels and exited quickly. Her room was down the hallway and on the opposite side of the stairs. Danarius valued his personal space and set her up with her own suite. She was close enough to summon when needed but not so close that she was privy to his other activities.

Fenris didn’t bother knocking before entering. The room was dark except for the bright moonlight outside. A large vase with the crystal grace bouquet sat on her vanity, giving the room a sweet smell. It almost washed out the smell of blood, brandy, and sex—almost, but not entirely.

Fenris crossed the room, went behind the dressing screen, and knocked on a hidden door in the far-right wall. It opened slowly, and Orana's wide eyes peered out at him. Her main quarters were downstairs with the rest of the slaves, but she also had a small alcove in the mistress’ room to be on hand if needed. Danarius had a similar nook in his room, but, fortunately, he never demanded that Fenris use it.

“Yes, ser?” She asked softly. 

“The mistress requires assistance to return to her room tonight,” he replied gruffly.

Orana’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Right away, ser!”

Turning to leave, Fenris was struck by a thought and said over his shoulder, “And bring the poor woman a robe.”

Orana quickly followed him while holding a silvery silk robe in her arms. When Fenris pushed open the door, he heard her audibly gasp.

‘She’ll need to work on that.’ he thought grimly.

Fenris took his place at the side of the door, and Orana tiptoed to her mistress’s side. Danarius hadn’t bothered to cover up and flashed Orana a satisfied smile. With soft words, Orana coaxed Ariana to stand and draped the robe over her shoulders. Unable to stand straight due to the pain in her belly, Ariana took Orana’s offered hand and allowed herself to be guided back into the hallway. When she left the room, Fenris looked at the bed again and noted the blood in the center that Danarius proudly lay on. Danarius saw his gaze and slowly followed it down.

 His eyes were filled with cruel glint, and he chuckled, “Virgins can be such messy business.”

Fenris did not acknowledge the statement. He merely continued to stare forward until Danarius tutted from how boring his little wolf was and waved him away. “I am tired, little wolf. Have one of the new slave girls bring me a late breakfast. I will expect you to meet me in the library afterward.”

Fenris nodded once and eagerly fled the room. His steps down the hall were silent as a ghost. When he reached the slave’s stairwell near Ariana’s room, some unseen force pulled him to her door. He wouldn’t dare intrude or even ask if she was okay, but he still felt the need to look in.

‘I’m just checking on things to ensure the floor is safe before retiring for the night,’ he tried to convince himself.

The door to her room was ajar, and he saw a strange green glow coming from the edges. He peered in to see her on the edge of the bed with her injured back to him. Orana knelt on the floor with a bloody washcloth to clean Ariana’s legs. Ariana’s hands covered her face as green tendrils of healing magic washed over her skin. The tendrils grew like vines and twisted around her, protecting her from the world. When the magic subsided, he was disquieted that the bruises and welts on her back were gone. What kind of power did she have? As she lowered her arms, Orana gave her a small smile. 

“That’s wonderful, my lady. You can’t even tell anymore… would you like me to get you a mirror?”

“No, thank you, Orana. You’ve been wonderful to me. I think I can handle it from here,” she replied softly, reassuringly squeezing Orana’s hand.

Orana looked unsure but stood anyway. Her eyes flicked up to see Fenris standing at the doorway. He gave a solemn nod, which she returned, and he shut the door. 

 He went downstairs to his quarters in the slave’s hall.

‘I pray he does not make that a regular occurrence,’ he thought, disgusted as he laid down in his bedroll for the night. It had been a long day, and Fenris fell into a dreamless sleep where, fortunately, her screams did not follow him.

Chapter Text

Fenris awoke every day precisely at sunrise, no matter what time he’d gone to bed the night before. Part of it was by necessity since Danarius could summon him at a moment’s notice. The other part was by design, though. Cruel conditioning, thanks to Danarius’ apprentice Hadriana drove him to near paranoia. She delighted in waking Fenris and the other slaves with a pitcher of icy water and forcing them to stand naked in the hallway. If he had ever looked like he was falling asleep, she’d douse him all over again and not let him leave the spot until he had dripped dry. She especially loved this torment in late winter, when his breath rose in hot vapors whenever he shivered.

She’d leer at him the entire time and deny him any privacy. If he missed any meals, she would claim it was his fault, and sometimes, just to spite him, she would dump his food on the ground before he could eat it. He had eaten off the filthy floor more than once because of that harpy. Danarius never said a word to her to stop her, and Fenris knew he couldn’t say anything. Hadriana was a stellar student, and Danarius would deny her very little. He even seemed amused watching her harry his slaves like a hunting dog with rabbits.

However, no one had seen hide nor hair of Hadriana since she made a groveling presentation of Orana to Danarius before the wedding, and she was not a guest at the event either. If Fenris knew any better, he’d swear Hadriana was pouting because she was jealous that her tutor had a new object of fascination. Fenris vaguely wondered what the day would be when the two women finally met. 

‘Would Ariana cow to Hadriana like everyone else, or would she attempt to assert herself?’ He wondered.

Once he pulled his leather armor on, he went to the kitchen, where the scent of something delicious came wafting down the hall. A long table was set to the side of the kitchen, where the slaves took their meals. Maids and houseboys rapidly finished the hot oatmeal they were given and then scattered to every corner of the house to begin cleaning. Meredith, a human cook, reviewed the week's inventory sheets. She was one of the few slaves in the house who knew how to read and could do basic math. It is an integral skill for a cook, and she prides herself on it. She stood at the butcher block counter and talked over food stores with Selvig, the housemaster. The wedding had depleted the budget for the entire month, and Danarius hadn’t decided to add to the funding.

Selvig was an older elf who walked with a ramrod straight back, and his gray mustache always curled to perfection. Danarius’ father bought him when he was young, and his keen intellect saw him rise to prominence in the household. He knew every nook and cranny of the house and the name of each skeleton in Danarius’ closet. He kept an iron grip on the slaves but also tempered his commands with compassion. Sometimes, he still had to make hard calls, though, and with Danarius, there was sometimes no letup.

To Fenris’ surprise, he saw that Orana was already down and getting a tray for the mistress. As he approached, he heard her giving the kitchen maids a lunch request.

“She said she didn’t want to be a bother, but she wants to know if she could have leftover mutton for lunch and if there is anything left from last night,” Orana said slowly as though the words were foreign on her tongue.

The maid looked at her quizzically before replying, “Of course, if that’s what the mistress asks, it can be done. She could ask for an entire suckling pig if that’s what she wanted.” Meredith glared daggers at the woman for suggesting such a thing. They needed to figure out how to feed the whole household with what they had left. Using up even more of the budget would come from the mouths of the slaves - not the masters.

 Orana nodded and proceeded to leave with the tray before she suddenly whirled around and said, “Oh! She also wants to say: ‘Thank you so much for all your hard work on my wedding. It was lovely, and it couldn’t have been done without you.’”

The room came to a standstill, and the slaves looked at each other, no one knowing what to say. Finally, Selvig cleared his throat and motioned to dismiss Orana, “Yes, well, let us know if the mistress requires anything else. Be off with you.”

With interest, Fenris watched her leave. He was curious to ask about the mistress’ condition after last night but knew that it wasn’t his place to inquire about such information. Instead, he approached Selvig and lowered his voice, “Master Danarius wishes to be awoken for breakfast by a slave, female this time.”

Selvig shut his eyes briefly, and when they opened again, his face was stoic, and his voice was placid: “Of course. I will send Emme again. She handled it well last time.”

Fenris then sat down to have breakfast: cold oatmeal with part of a bruised apple and a glass of warm water. As the master’s personal slave, he received better rations than the others, but not by much. 

‘Ah yes, the benefits of having a rich and powerful Magister as an owner,’ he thought acidly.

When he finished his meal, he began his usual grounds patrol. Since there were no guests, he was permitted to wear his black leather armor and carry a sword. If he were out with Danarius, it would be a considerable blade to give others in his wake pause. At home, though, it was more straightforward, more easily drawn, and less likely to damage the interior should a fight occur.

His path through the house constantly changed. Another skill that he had Hadriana to thank for teaching him was that he used to tread the same path every day over and over until one day, Hadriana slipped into the house and was there to greet Danarius in his library for dinner. She claimed she had memorized Fenris’ route, so avoiding him was easy. Danarius had been so furious he whipped Fenris until he passed out and then denied him meals for two days. Since then, Fenris has been a more vigilant house guard.

‘I feel like a mabari,’ he thought, ’ constantly patrolling and guarding the house as though I were a mindless guard dog.’

He quickly banished the thought and walked through the front parlor. A silver glint from underneath a chair cushion caught his eye.  It was a large medallion; four silver serpents worked in concentric circles, holding a sapphire the size of a peach pit. Its value was ten ordinary slaves at the market or seven attractive ones. Fenris clenched the thing in his armored hand and felt a flash of rage. He didn’t even see money anymore; all items were measured in people, in slaves.

He knew he needed to turn it over to Selvig. The thought of keeping it didn’t even cross his mind. A thieving slave would receive much worse than a whipping. Danarius wouldn’t willingly dispose of his lyrium investment, but that wouldn’t stop him from coming up with a creative torture in its stead. He carried it in his left hand and did not dare to place it in his pocket lest he be caught with it concealed. 

His next stop was the library on the first floor, close to the garden doorway. The room was empty, and the floral scent indicated it was freshly cleaned. He took a single step inside to peer around the door. The room was filled floor to ceiling with books; books littered the ground, and there were a few cozy pieces of furniture perfect for lounging while reading. He briefly wondered what secrets these tomes held. He had never learned to read, and sometimes, if only briefly, he wondered what it might be like to sit down and spend an afternoon lost in a novel the way he’d seen Danarius do. Suddenly, he violently shook his head to dislodge the thought. 

‘Never hope, never climb,’  he thought bitterly before wheeling around and heading to the stairs that took him to the bedroom wing. Danarius’s room was quiet, so his tray must have been on the way. Fenris would rather not be in the area when Emme has the “honor” of waking their master.

As a powerful magister, Danarius could fill any lust whenever he wanted. If he ended up killing one of the slaves, it was a simple task to go to the market and get a new one. Slaves were like produce that way. Prospective masters poked and prodded for the freshest ones. The damaged ones were discounted, and a variety was always available to suit any taste.

Now, he came to his mistress’s room. The door was shut now, but a sudden melodic sound caused him to stop.

  ‘Laughter?’ he balks, shocked. 

Typically, after a night with Danarius, women or men tended to be in a stupor or even a depression if they survived at all. What kind of woman could get over it so quickly?

A young maid came hurrying up the stairs carrying a large box. Fenris turned just in time to almost crash into her. She staggered back but held the box firm.

“Ser! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me for almost hitting you!” she pleaded, her head bent low.

 “I’m quite alright. You did no harm,” Fenris replied gently. “What is it you carry so urgently?”

The woman held out the heavy box to him, and he gazed at the cover. It was a dark brown box with a name scrawled in gold across the top. The decoration meant nothing to him, so he looked at the girl quizzically.

“It’s chocolates for the mistress for the master! All the way from Orlais, they are some of the finest in the market. He demanded she be given these as a token,” she said, her words tumbling over each other.

  ‘Of course,’ Fenris thought dryly. ‘A gift to attempt to win over his new bride.’

He knew that Danarius sometimes doted on a fresh victim. He would ingratiate himself after each abuse to attempt to keep their affections. If they accepted the gifts, they would come to believe that he was not as bad as he seemed.

‘At that point, he usually either kills them, sells them or destroys them politically.’

Fenris nodded and pointed to his mistress’s door. The young girl knocked softly, and within a moment, the lady answered the door. As she saw the maid, her face broke into a bright smile. 

“Can I help you?” she asked.

The girl jerked in surprise before presenting her with the box of treats.

“From the master, my lady,” she said shakily.

The mistress frowned, and her eyebrow furrowed. “How kind,” she said, sounding quite unimpressed.

She opened the box and stared for a moment. Suddenly, she turned the box and held it out for the maid as she asked, “Would you like one?”

 The girl took a few steps back and waved her hands as though the box contained a poisonous serpent. “I couldn’t possibly, my lady!”

Ariana smiled knowingly this time and insisted, “It’s quite alright! I’m not fond of chocolate, so it would help if you took one. I do not wish to upset my new husband.” 

Put it in that context, the girl paused and then hesitantly grabbed one of the spheres with white chocolate drizzles.

 “Thank you, my lady!” she squeaked before dashing downstairs.

The mistress met Fenris’ eyes across the hallways, and he saw they no longer held fear, although they were still filled with melancholy.

 “Can I offer you one?” she asked, presenting the box to him.

He wrestled with the idea for a few moments before turning his palms up and showing that while sheathed in black metal, his fingers were claws and unsuited for the task.

 “I am afraid I would merely get my gauntlets covered in chocolate, mistress,” he replied.

 She looked both ways in the hallway and approached him with light steps. The scent of vanilla and the crystal grace flowers hit him.

 “If you pick one, I can put it in your mouth,” she said innocently.

 He searched her face for any deception or malice but found none. She simply seemed to be offering him a treat. Rather inappropriately for a highborn mistress, but that was not what he was most taken by. It was the kindness she exuded even just standing there.

Fenris looked down at the box laden with dozens of chocolate orbs. He noted an oddly shaped one in the center that looked to be a chocolate-dipped strawberry.

“That one,” he said with a jut of his chin.

She grabbed it quickly and presented it to his mouth. He also looked around to make sure no one had entered the hallway. If Danarius were to come upon this scene, it would not have gone well for either party.

Quickly, he darted his head forward and took the berry into his mouth. The burst of sweet flavor was amazing. The berry was fresh and firm, and the chocolate was smooth and decadent. He took a long moment to chew it and savored the flavor. He thought he might have moaned but wasn’t sure. He looked down and saw that she had a pleased grin.

“Delicious, yes?” she asked.

“Yes, mistress…thank you,” he murmured.

Before she could offer him another treat or anything else, he turned and rushed downstairs towards the kitchen. He wanted to get to Selvig before Danarius woke up. Closing the door of the stairwell to the kitchen, he stopped and leaned his head back on the door.

“That was…unexpected,” he said out loud to himself.

The new mistress was a surprise, to be sure.

‘I wonder how long she will last,’ he thinks bitterly.

The clock bells chimed eight, and he knew that Danarius was about to slake himself on another poor woman. He did not want to be near that part of the house, so he descended towards the slave’s quarters. He resolved to say nothing about the berry incident to anyone. It could be either a good or a bad thing, and he didn’t want to be caught in the crosshairs if it was terrible. Deep inside, a small part of him had a tiny flicker of hope that this would be good. Maybe she was genuinely kind and could share some of that with the ones who desperately needed it. That spark was quickly crushed, and he sighed through his nose. He knew that even if her kindness were genuine, it wouldn’t last under his master’s thumb.

‘Hope is dangerous in the minds of slaves. It can only lead to more suffering and pain. It’s better to accept reality than wish for one better.’

Chapter Text

The next day, I had an air of anxious energy. It began early for Fenris. He stood on a pedestal in the tailor’s alcove while a short, waspish man fussed with the length of his sleeves. Fenris rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan. His outfit for tonight was pre-selected by Danarius days ago, and the tailor waited until the last moment to make sure it was perfectly fitted to Fenris’ form. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to alter except the waist had to be taken in a bit thanks to his meager diet. If Danarius noticed, he said nothing. In fact, he had said that he preferred Fenris on the thinner side anyway.

When the man was satisfied with the placement of his pins, he practically tore the jacket from Fenris’ back, shoved a linen shirt into his arms, and hurried him out of the room.

“It will be ready by five tonight!” the man barked before slamming the door shut.

The tailor’s room was on the uppermost floor, attached to the large storage room for clothes that Danarius had for himself and special outfits for slaves. Fenris noted a new armoire in the corner filled with various gowns that must be for the mistress.

“Oh, hello, Fenris,” a woman’s voice spoke from his side.

He jumped in surprise and whirled around to see Ariana standing beside him. She held a small black bundle tightly to her chest. Ariana blushed and looked to the floor. Fenris realized he was still topless. His white brands stood in stark contrast to his tan complexion. He quickly pulled his tunic on; he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He noticed she was wearing a long dark silk robe with shining white birds flying amongst golden trees.

“I’m here to see the tailor…” Ariana said softly. “But you’re the only one here.”

“There is a hidden door…” Fenris stated and strode across the room. 

He only knocked twice before the tailor screeched and wrenched the door open, “I am busy! Leave me to my work.” His eyes widened at the sight of Ariana, and he made an obsequious bow.

Ariana frowned. “I am sorry if you are busy, but my husband demands this be fitted for tonight.”

The tailor nodded and bowed again, “Of course, mistress, come right in.”

He stepped to the side and revealed the pedestal in the center of the room.

Ariana’s shoulders stiffened, and Fenris saw the panic in her eyes. She took an unconscious step back. She did not want to be trapped in a small room with a strange man.

“Mistress,” he said, soft enough for the tailor to not hear. “I will remain outside this room as long as you need me.”

Without looking at Fenris, her shoulders dropped, and her jaw unclenched. She slowly walked into the alcove and took her place on the pedestal. The tailor looked almost startled to see Fenris still standing there.

“I will wait for the Mistress,” Fenris said, his voice carrying the silent message. ‘I am here to protect her.’

Fenris had no way of telling time. The storage room lacked windows so that sunlight couldn’t damage any clothes. The room was sweltering, and beads of sweat ran down his neck. It was already gearing up to be a hot spring, and an even hotter summer. He took the time to run through the events for the evening. Closing his eyes, he mentally mapped the basic layout of the Alexius estate using previous excursions there with Danarius as a reference. However, this would be the first time he has had to keep track of multiple charges.

‘Will I be expected to be near Ariana or Danarius? Am I to act as the guard dog or the prized pet?’ He wondered while fiddling with the hem of his linen tunic. He wanted to get into his regular leathers as soon as possible.

The panel suddenly swung open, and Ariana stepped out. The tailor babbled about the fashion trends of Tevene women and attempted to assure Ariana that she would be pleased with his work. She politely nodded her head in acknowledgment and looked around the storage room. When her eyes fell on Fenris, she looked visibly relieved.

“Thank you. I’m sure it will be lovely,” she said over her shoulder to the tailor as he gently shut the panel behind her.

“I almost didn’t expect to find you out here,” she murmured, slowly stepping towards Fenris.

“I said I would be out here as long as you needed me. I do not break my word so easily,” he replied.

The room was hot, and his tunic stuck to his sweat-slicked chest.

The shoulder of Ariana’s robe slipped down, and her pale throat was on full display. He resisted the urge to look lower. She was standing so close they practically touched.

“Fenris…” Ariana whispered. Her eyes were wide and full of an unspoken need.

“Yes?” He replied.

His mind began to race with thoughts of what she might be about to say.

“May I hug you?” she asked, and her blush crept so low that it disappeared beneath her robe.

Fenris was stunned at the request and then felt ashamed of where his mind had wandered.

“It would not be appropriate,” he replied with a step back. He shook his head more to get lingering thoughts from his head than to deny Ariana. 

“Of course. I’m so sorry,” she whispered and hurried out of the room.

When left alone, Fenris leaned back against a dresser and sighed.

‘I need to be very careful with her,’ he thought.

_____

Later that night, Fenris stood at the foot of the stairs in a black long-sleeved shirt and long black trousers. The collar was lined with white and opened to expose the brands on his throat. When Danarius saw him, the magister’s eyes traveled down his body, burning away the clothes under his heated stare. Danarius looked to Fenris with eyes darkened from lust, and Fenris knew that tonight would be his turn with the master. He dropped his gaze lest Danarius find it challenging when the sound of Ariana’s bedroom door opening drew both men’s attention.

Ariana descended the stairs, back straight and moving stiffly. Her body was clad in a tight black sheath, and past her calves, the gown billowed out in layers of black and blood-red lace. Black silk gloves encased her hands up to her elbows. A heavy golden bracelet hung from her right wrist, studded in rubies. Another gift from Danarius after a rough night of ‘marital bliss.’ Her golden hair was swept up in a bun, not unlike her wedding hairdo with black gems instead of pearls. Red teardrop earrings hung from her ears, and Fenris noted she had two more gold studs on each ear, which were climbing up from the first.

“My dear, you look ravishing,” Danarius said, drawing her hand to his lips for a kiss.

Fenris almost detected a note of sincerity there. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes looked down, hiding behind long, dark lashes. The look of her blushing, humbly accepting the gazes on her, made even Fenris feel a primal growl beginning in his chest at the sight. He pinched the inside of his arm. He needed to stop now.

Danarius looked to her and then to Fenris as though trying to decide which snack to eat. His look was unreadable, and he clapped his hands together with a dangerous smile.

“Let us be off! I do not wish to miss the party of my dear friend Alexius,” Danarius said and cast a hungry look at both his wife and his little wolf.

_____

Much to Danarius’ chagrin, he was not afforded the same luxuries to intimidate others that he had in his own house. It was a fact even his narcissistic mind had to come to terms with from time to time. If every magister in Tevinter could have scary, armed guards glued to their hips nothing would ever get done. No one would be able to get through a doorway.

So, it ended up being low-key at most dinner parties. Fenris joined the few other persons who had been brought along as guards as they moved through the rooms, lying in wait like tigers. He wore no armor, and his only weapons were the brands and his bare hands, but it was still enough for him to be deadly. The main reason Danarius had created Fenris was so that he could have a deadly weapon at his side almost everywhere. 

As the hours dragged on, Danarius was embroiled in talks with other magisters. The group size dwindled until less than a dozen more powerful cutthroat ones remained. Finally, at about half past eleven, the group retired to a room off the library. Fenris knew that room was for dark deals to be made and secrets to be shared. For now, he had a small reprieve since Danarius was satisfactorily busy.

He suddenly had a moment of panic. He had forgotten about his mistress! This was the first actual event Danarius had been to since their wedding, and Fenris realized he hadn’t seen his other charge since dinner. Feeling like a mother overwhelmed by her children, he went in search of the lady in the house. When he found her, he was both floored and enraged.

Ariana was lounging on plush pillows with one man on either side. On her right was a young man with bronze skin, black hair cropped short, and wearing the robes of the university. Fenris faintly recalled this was the master of the house’s son, Felix. On her left was a more dapper-looking man. His longer hair was styled back, he had the mustache of a caricature villain, and he strangely left his muscular right arm bare. As Fenris approached the trio, the man on her left made a comment that caused his mistress to laugh abruptly. She quickly covered her mouth and tried to silence herself.

“I’m sorry, that’s too loud, isn’t it? I can’t help that you make me laugh, Dorian!” she said, playfully scolding the man.

“My dear, your laughter is a delight. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, flashing a mischievous smile.

She giggled, and her eyes caught sight of Fenris.

“Oh! Fenris, do you need something? Does Master Danarius wish to leave soon?” she asked, looking disappointed.

Fenris was frozen for a moment in shock. Finally, he gently stepped towards them, his bare feet coming to the edge of the pillows. On the one hand, he was not seeing anything inappropriate; on the other hand, he knew Danarius would be livid if he happened upon this scene.

“No, mistress,” he said. He felt awkward with all three sets of eyes on him. “He has retired with a group of magisters to the library for the time being.”

Dorian rolled his eyes at that.

“Ah yes, another secret meeting. Who do you think will be offed this time, Felix?” He asked across Ariana nonchalantly.

“Oh, I don’t know anymore. I thought it would have been Viren last week, but he and Porenni bonded over their views of the Qunari so he’s probably safe,” Felix replied with an absent hum. “I’ll tell you what, though I bet 50 sovereigns that magister Titus’ wife leaves him for that Orlesian bard he’s “sponsoring” at the university before fall.”

Dorian laughed and said, “I’ll take that bet and put 100 sovereigns on that his wife will be across the border with the bard before the first of Solis!”

Both men erupted in laughter, and Ariana looked quizzically at them both.

“You boys gossip almost as much as the washerwomen of a templar barracks!” she said with a playful shake of her head.

“Oh, I wonder what they have to say,” Felix said with a mischievous glint.

“Probably about which Templar has the biggest sword and which ones keep using the sheets for polishing his blade,” Dorian retorted and took a long drink from his goblet.

Both Felix and Ariana dissolved into fits of laughter. Ariana held her stomach, and tears streamed down her face.

“Stop! My sides, I can’t take it!” she gasped.

Fenris was irritated at this display. This was no way for magisters or their wives to behave!

Dorian glanced at Fenris’ face and said in a solemn tone, “I know you probably disapprove of this old boy, but you know your master better than anyone. Let the poor woman have a night of fun. It’s probably the first since she got here.”

Fenris couldn’t argue with that logic.

Ariana gained control and fanned the tears from her eyes.

“Thank you, Dorian,” she said softly.

He simply nodded and took another sip.

“So, I hear you’re a mage, my lady,” Felix intoned, changing the subject.

She laughed, but her tone was not humorous this time. “Yes, I actually come from a family of them, in fact.”

“What’s it like being a mage in the Free Marches?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been a Free Marches mage,” she replied quietly.

All three men stilled. What was she saying?

“So, you’re...not…?” Dorian began, not quite knowing how to broach this topic.

“Oh no, I’m from the Amell family line. Don’t worry, I’ve got the noble blood required to bear a magister’s child,” she stated flatly. “I only spent about a week in the Free Marches before Danarius chose me as his bride. Up until then, I was born and raised in Ferelden.”

“Oooh, the south! I hear it’s delightfully dreary there,” Dorian said with rapt enthusiasm. “Tell me, is it true that the seasons are either mud, mud and snow, or mud and sun?”

Ariana giggled at that and said, “Well, for the most part, but if the sun was hot enough, we get “dust and sun.”

“Glorious! God knows why I’ve never been,” Dorian said with a dramatic sigh.

“Because you’d take one step in mabari shit and lose all your delicate sensibilities,” Felix teased.

“Well, can you blame me?” Dorian cried out, extending a leg to show off his fashionable calf-high gurn skin boot. “It would be a crime to cover that in shit! I would be inconsolable for a month.”

“Poor Dorian, we can’t have that, can we?” Ariana grinned and patted the man’s bare arm.

“Do you have a specialty, my lady?” Felix asked.

Ariana grew silent and looked almost ashamed.

“I’m rather proficient at healing spells,” she answered softly.

“Why is that a problem?” Dorian asked with a bewildered look. “Healers are valuable, and a good one is worth their weight in gold.”

Her eyes shone with tears as she quietly replied, “Because healers don’t stop the blight.”

She shook her head as though physically clearing her mind. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

She stood and graciously smiled at them both as she stepped forward off the cushion, and Fenris reflexively offered her his hand. As she grasped his fingers, she felt a slight jolt between them. He paused for a moment. It wasn’t a spell, but by the look on her face, it wasn’t just his imagination either.

As Fenris led her towards the door, Felix called out, “Please wait, Lady Amell.”

She and Fenris turned to them both. A strange look passed between the two men, and they stood together.

“Since you are a healer, I would ask for your help with something quite delicate,” Felix said, his eyes locked with Dorian.

Dorian nodded without saying a word and turned his gaze to her. His stoic countenance contrasted with his earlier humor.

She bit her lower lip and drew it between her teeth. A fascinating gesture that Fenris couldn’t help but notice.

“I will do what I can,” she said with a nod.

Felix took her hand and led her towards the back of the house. Fenris paused a moment before locking eyes with Dorian. His irritation for these altuses was growing again.

“Well, come on then,” Dorian said with a wave of his hand, “Come follow your mistress to make sure we won’t be doing anything to sully her good virtues.”

A reflexive sensation of possession arced through his chest. They would do no such thing!

He paused and reminded himself, ‘No, I am not possessive. I am simply protecting the wife of my master from possible dangers.’

“I will accompany my mistress, ser,” Fenris replied pointedly.

Dorian strode to the other side of Ariana, offered his arm to her, and asked, “Shall we, my dear?”

She blushed and answered with a nod. She hooked her arm with Dorian, and Felix led the way with Fenris trailing behind. Fenris grit his teeth at the situation when no one could see his face.

‘What are these two playing at?’ he thought acidly.

The corridor led to a hidden doorway, which opened to a stairwell illuminated by candlelight. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but Fenris realized this was the same kind of staircase used by slaves to quickly ascend or descend in their masters' houses. The two men led the party up the winding stairs. They rose two full floors before ending at a landing with a single painted white door.

“This way,” Felix said quietly, opening the door and holding it open for them to pass through.

He took a position behind Fenris, which instantly put the elf on alert. His lyrium brands flashed like blue lightning, and the party stopped.

“Fenris?” Ariana asks.

“Good show, man! Can you keep them on like a torch? Seems like it’d be convenient, or at least fun, at parties,” Dorian said with a curious tilt of his head. He had only heard of the lyrium brands but had never seen them function.

“I have never tried, ser,” Fenris replied in irritation, then softened his voice a bit. I’m alright, mistress. Let us proceed.”

Felix led them to a small door at the far end of the hallway. The hall was dark and small, and Fenris found himself pressed against the pretty altus.

Dorian flashed him a smile so wide that Fenris could practically see his white teeth in the dark: “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.”

“Well, I do,” Fenris replied before he could stop himself. “…ser.”

Dorian laughed at that. Fenris almost felt at ease with the man’s infectious, easygoing nature.

They could hear muffled sounds coming from behind the door when they reached the doorway. Craning his ears, Fenris realized it was moaning and crying. Without any ceremony, Felix opened the door, and they were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of burnt flesh, blood, sick, and elf root balm.

The four crowded into the room, and Fenris saw the body of a young man curled up on the bed. He was covered from the waist up in wet bandages, but there weren’t enough to fully encompass the burns on his skin. The sheets under him were soaked in sweat and blood. A single dark brown eye fixed on the group, and the man whimpered at the sight of the intruders.

“It’s alright, Adrian,” Felix murmured, kneeling at his side. “I think I may have someone who will help you.”

The man nodded slightly and relaxed at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“What happened?” Ariana asked in a quiet voice. Fenris noted there was an edge to it he hadn’t heard before.

“Adrian was our best dessert chef. Two nights ago, a magister’s brat wanted to try Adrian’s famous choux buns. When Adrian wasn’t moving fast enough for him, the bastard decided it would be more fun to chuck the whole pot of boiling oil on him instead,” Felix took a deep breath to compose himself. “By the time another servant let me know what had happened, Adrian was already severely burned. The others tried to wash it off with water, but….”

“More skin comes off if you try to scrub it,” she finished.

There was a small stool next to Adrian’s bed. It held a tray with various tinctures and salves on it. A mostly empty container of elfroot balm was opened. Elfroot had its uses on minor burns, but not something like this. There were also some empty vials of sleeping potions.

“Nothing for pain?” she asked in surprise.

Felix shifted from foot to foot, looking almost ashamed.

“Such things are in high demand in households. Some can be spared for the slaves, but most are saved for the family if they require it. You’d think it was made of fucking gold,” Dorian spat.

Felix lifted a sad gaze to Ariana and said with conviction, “I did what I could, my lady.”

She nodded, gave a small smile, and rested her hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I know that you did your best, Felix. Now let’s see what I can do.”

He picked the tray up from the stool and stood aside. Ariana pulled up to Adrian’s bedside and sat down. She peeled her black silk gloves off and absently dropped them on the floor. Her soft hand reached out to gently hold the less burned of his two.

“Hello, Adrian,” she said in a gentle voice. “Felix asked me if I could help you. I would like to try to heal you if I may. I’m a mage, but I promise I will not hurt you.”

Adrian looked at her face, at Felix, and finally, his eyes rested on Fenris. Unspoken words were shared between the two as Fenris nodded. ‘You are safe.’

Over the next hour, Fenris watched as her hands worked over Adrian’s body. The green tendrils of the veil were pulled and shaped around his skin. Slowly, he healed. Fenris felt the lyrium in his skin prickle and respond to the magic. It was not painful for once, at least. Adrian’s skin seemed to stitch together. The deepest burns became fields of fresh pink scar tissue. Towards the end, Felix and Dorian assisted Adrian to get undressed, and without any pause for embarrassment, she healed the burns where oil had seeped underneath his pants and streaked down his thighs.

At last, Adrian fell into a restful sleep. His body was largely restored. There were no more open wounds; only scars remained where the deepest ones had been.

Ariana slumped back against the wall. Her hair was askew, and her eyes were partially closed from exhaustion.

Felix pulled a clean sheet over Adrian’s sleeping body and turned to her.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said. “Adrian has been here since I was a boy. He’s always been kind to me. Even fed me donuts when I was hiding from my tutors.”

“Well, if he ever gets to cook again, let me try one of those donuts,” she said sleepily.

She attempted to stand, but her legs gave way. Fenris slid between the two men and caught her before she could hit the ground. She felt so light in his arms even when she was so tired. In her exhaustion, she nuzzled into this throat, and he was suddenly very aware of the body against him. Small, soft, and warm. Her pale skin was a perfect canvas for lips to play across. A floral, musky scent clung to her skin like a perfume. It was only a moment of reverie, but he snapped out of it, feeling awkward and a little lost.

Felix had focused back on Adrian, but Dorian witnessed the whole exchange. When Fenris glanced up, he saw the knowing look in Dorian’s eyes.

“Your mistress is tired,” Dorian stated simply.

“Yes, it appears so, ser,” Fenris said while his lady continued to doze in his arms. Her lips were soft, and her breath tickled his skin. He suddenly ached to feel her lips part and brush against his throat. To lick and kiss the flesh that was under her mouth.

His eyes betrayed his lust, but the features on his face remained calm.

“My mother’s maid, Althea, can accompany her home,” Felix said, now carrying the tray of medicinal items used on Adrian. Turning to Fenris, he continued, “Our butler can take a note to your master, and you can wait for him to finish his meeting.”

He wrestled with the thought momentarily before Dorian steered him out of the room with both hands, “Good, let’s get down to the carriages, and Felix will get Althea before you know it!”

After he deposited his mistress into the carriage and got assurances from Althea that she would be well taken care of, Fenris shut the door and watched it pull away from the manor. Felix left to find some servants to update them on Adrian’s condition, but Dorian remained.

“I saw the look in your eyes,” Dorian began, and Fenris immediately bristled.

‘He was going to tell Danarius, and I will be whipped until he flays the lyrium from my back,’ he thought with a trace of panic.

“Maker knows I am not in any position to talk about affairs of the heart and what is or isn’t appropriate,” Dorian continued. “But you know the dangers a slave has when having an affair with their owner. Just don’t go screwing things up for either of you. One or both of you wouldn’t live to talk about it.”

Without another word, Dorian returned to the party and disappeared into the crowd.

“A slave and their owner…” Fenris repeated the words, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

The sting of reality was that this woman, who was a beacon of kindness and sweetness, still owned him like a piece of furniture.

The bitter thought kept him company while he waited for Danarius.

Danarius emerged from the room just past three in the morning. He looked hungry and reeked of lyrium and blood. Fenris didn’t want to think about why his master was covered in blood, and judging by the gleam in his eyes, he knew it was something he wouldn't want to hear.

But hear of it, he did.

—----

When they arrived home, Danarius led Fenris to his bedroom. Fenris looked at Ariana’s door and felt at ease that his mistress was safe and sleeping in her bed.

It was a small comfort afterward when Fenris was naked before Danarius—pleasuring the magister. At the same time, Danarius spoke of his twisted night, where he sacrificed not one but two slave boys to test out a new aphrodisiac. Fenris gagged down the taste of his master reaching his peak at the end of the story.

Not long afterward, Fenris’ arms were tied to the legs of the bed. His face was pressed into the fine-down pillow Ariana was on that first night. He was not strong enough to break his restraints, even with the rush of adrenaline surging through his system when his master positioned himself at his entrance. Fenris bit on a leather strap between his teeth and fought the urge to shout.

“We don’t want to wake my wife,” Danarius hummed, thrusting his hips. “Don’t want her trying to join us. For now, you are all mine.”

Danarius raked his long nails down the length of Fenris’ back alongside the brands while sending painful bolts of magic, which turned them a brilliant red. The twinning of pain in and on his skin was unbearable. One deep cut caused him to clench down, and his cry of pain brought Danarius over the edge. When Danarius slipped himself out of Fenris’ body, he unceremoniously pulled the gag from his mouth and untied his arms from the bed.

—----

“That was exceptional, my pet,” Danarius purred while running his fingers along the fresh wounds on Fenris’ back. “Next time, I think I will have my wife. I’m afraid I will have to neglect you for a while. Soon, she’ll be ready to bear me a child.”

He dismissed Fenris and ordered an awakening for lunch. Fenris gathered the shredded remains of his clothes and left the room. Danarius would purchase him more tomorrow, as usual. The magister knew Fenris was strong enough to take a lot of abuse, so he dished it out with abandon. Fenris’ neck hurt from fresh bite marks, his back felt like it was in hot strips, and that wasn’t even considering the internal damage. 

Fortunately, it was early, so no one was up. Fenris took the ball of shredded garments and covered his manhood while he padded his way downstairs towards the staircase that would lead him to his room.

“Fenris?” Ariana called, curious, from her doorway.

The breath in his throat froze along with his heart

He turned to face his mistress with head bowed. He felt an equal mix of embarrassment and rage. He didn’t want to look at her. If she were Hadriana, she would be laughing and smirking at him.

Slender, pale fingers gently reached under his chin, but before they could make contact, he jerked his head up and pinned her under his heated glare.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered.

“I am fine, mistress,” Fenris replied, feeling a fresh wave of anger. He hated being seen so vulnerable.

“I can heal you -” she began.

With a snarl, Fenris spat out, “I do not need the help of a mage. I am perfectly fine on my own.”

As he saw the hurt in her eyes, he felt a wave of regret.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” he murmured. “That was unkind of me. You’re only wanting to help.”

“May I?” she asked, raising her hands, palms up.

Not trusting his voice, he shut his eyes tight and nodded. His body tensed up, waiting for the pain that came when magic poured through his lyrium-laced skin.

The pain did not come.

Green waves washed over his skin. They were like warm sunlight or a soothing bath that he sunk into, and he started to lose himself in the sensation. The lyrium in his skin sang a high, soft song that made the hair on his arms stand on end. It found him where he hurt the most. Her hands made glowing trails over his skin. She never touched them, but he felt the heat from them as they passed. She walked around him, and the broken skin on his back joined together as though it had never torn. Her hands dropped lower to his waist, and she paused, unsure what to do.

“Please…there too,” Fenris said hoarsely. He wanted all the pain gone.

Danarius was never one for gentleness or lubrication. She made quick work of those wounds as well.

When she was finally done, Fenris let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. She moved in front of him, beaming another glorious smile, which made his heart beat a little faster.

“Please, let me heal you whenever I can,” she said softly.

He captured her hands in one of his. The warmth and softness of her skin were a stark contrast to his calluses and scars. He didn’t know what came over him, but he drew her palm up to his mouth and kissed it reverently.

“I can think of no one better for the task,” he murmured.

She blushed. Suddenly, the air between them felt hot, and he realized that he was very much naked. The sound of a houseboy on the first floor tripping and cussing at himself startled the two from their little world.

Ariana extracted her hand from his and shyly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She took a step back towards her door but her eyes never left his.

“I will let you get back to your duties,” she murmured and ducked back into her room.

Fenris turned to go down the stairs. His step was lighter since it was not weighed down by pain anymore. When he reached the door to the small room designated as his, a sudden thought flashed into his mind.

‘I’m glad she was not the one to suffer, even if it was me.’  It was a simple thought filled with affection that helped him fall asleep for the precious hour he’d be able to rest.

Chapter Text

Danarius had kept his word and exclusively took Ariana to bed nightly after the party. Fenris couldn’t be grateful for the reprieve, though. There were too many nights he would watch in the shadows as Ariana left Danarius’ room with new wounds. By the second month, Ariana had decided to take matters into her own hands.

-----

Fenris stood behind Danarius in the dining room for most of his meals. Even when they were at home, Danarius didn’t want him to stray far in case he needed his wine poured or a plate to be taken. Fenris was bored. Danarius hummed as he looked over a stack of letters and slowly ate his breakfast. Fenris almost didn’t notice as Ariana slipped into the room, quiet as an assassin, and tiptoed to Danarius’ side. She had a determined look on her face. Her fingers were laced before her, and Fenris saw that her knuckles were white. Danarius was oblivious to his wife’s presence and continued to enjoy his meal.

She opened her mouth to speak several times before finally managing to get the words out.

“I wish to call a midwife,” Ariana said softly.

Danarius quickly flipped the letters face down and splashed coffee on the pure white tablecloth. He leveled a steely gaze at his wife. It took every ounce of training for Fenris not to show any emotion. He simply unfolded his arms.

“Are you pregnant?” Danarius asked bluntly.

She quelled under his heated stare.

“No, not this time,” she answered quietly. “But I know that’s what we both want, so I thought if I enlisted the aid of a midwife, it might speed things along.”

Danarius sat back, steepled his fingers, and took several minutes to contemplate his answer.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I think that would be a wise idea. There is nothing outwardly wrong or shameful about this request. I will allow it.”

Ariana’s shoulder relaxed, and she exhaled the breath she had been holding.

“Thank you, husband,” she said, sounding quite relieved. “I will leave you to your breakfast.”

She hurried from the room, and as the door shut behind her, Fenris began to breathe again. Danarius sighed as he saw the coffee stain but chose to forgo it this time. Instead, he went back to his letters and his meal. He didn’t know that Fenris stood behind him, quietly brooding.

‘How will life change if the midwife is successful with her teachings?’ Fenris asked himself.

----

Orana arrived in the slave’s hall for dinner, looking quite thunderstruck.

“Are you alright, Orana?” A black-haired human maid named Rachelle asked.

“What? Oh yes, I’m fine. It’s just…,” Orana went quiet and craned her neck to see who else was at the table.

Selvig had taken his food to his room, so it was the only house slaves at this meal.

“My lady spoke with a midwife today about having babies; I’ve never heard such talk before!” She said as her face blushed to the shade of a tomato.

“Awww, did Orana learn where babies come from?” Rachelle cooed with a playful smirk on her face.

“I knew where they come from!” Orana squeaked defensively. “I know about preventing these things like with witherstalk potions. But this was a lesson in making it happen faster!”

Fenris felt a slight twinge of discomfort in his chest but quickly pushed it away.

’An heir is precisely why this marriage was arranged. There is no reason to have any opinions about the matter.’

He still felt disquieted but chalked it up to feeling protective of her. He knew exactly what she went through in that bedroom night after night. He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“So, what did they say?” Meredith asked with a chuckle as she sat down to eat.

Orana began to fidget, and she looked at her untouched plate.

“Well…they talked about… positions… to encourage different gender babies,” she practically whispered.

Fenris was feeling more uncomfortable as she spoke. It didn’t feel appropriate to hear this about his mistress, but he was somehow glued to his seat.

Orana went into more detail about which positions were for what, and he couldn’t help but imagine Ariana on her hands and knees. Although she wasn’t crying out in pain, she was moaning in pleasure. Other hands than Danarius were caressing her back. Gentler, tanned hands with white marks snaking down the fingers held her hips while she pushed back against him with a loud cry of ecstasy.

He shook his head violently to get rid of that thought. He shifted in his seat to adjust his pants, which were getting too tight. He absently noticed that two of the houseboys excused themselves from the table with hands over their own cocks.

A small pang of jealousy crossed his mind that anyone would have lewd thoughts about her, but then he realized he was guilty of the same thing. He was a hypocrite on top of everything else.

Fenris returned to the conversation between Orana and the other women. She had moved on to a special tea, and the midwife had instructed Ariana to drink a pot every morning until it was confirmed that she was with her child.

Meredith nodded as she looked over the multitude of satchels the midwife had provided.

“Only one pot a day? There’s enough here for months!” she exclaimed as she stacked them up to count. Her brow furrowed as the number climbed past 50.

“I hope it doesn’t take this long, poor girl,” she muttered, taking the pouches back into the kitchen.

A low tinkling sound filled the dining room. A small bell on the wall rang out, and everyone went silent. Each room was outfitted with a lever system to call down in the slave’s hall to indicate a presence was needed. Each one had its own distinct tone, and this was Danarius’s bedroom.

Sometimes, Fenris heard those offensive notes in his dreams. The worst were nightmares where Danarius forced him to wear a necklace of them during their sessions. Each thrust set off a symphony that hurt his ears.

Every eye at the table turned to Fenris, who sighed through his nose. Any arousal he felt was effectively crushed, so he stood without any embarrassment.

It's time to serve the master.

----

Danarius was called to the magisterium for important business regarding the end of the blight. The word about town was that the empire might have been wise to move against Ferelden with a new, untested King on the throne. Grey Warden or not, Alistair wasn’t considered a threat. The Warden Queen, though, was another matter entirely. Options had to be weighed carefully.

Fenris had a reprieve from attending with Danarius. He seldom went to the magisterium, and he preferred it that way. If he were stuck in a building full of some of the worst mages in the world, it would not have ended well for anyone. So Fenris was free for most of the day. He got out his sword and went to the back of the garden where the training dummies were set up.

As he practiced his self-taught forms, he felt some of the tension he had been carrying dissipate. He hadn’t had a chance to do this since just after the wedding, and he needed it. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. The sun beat down on his body, and his brands practically glowed in stark contrast to his tan skin. As he dodged an imaginary assailant, he heard the soft footsteps of someone approaching. He straightened his back and flexed his arms a bit more than usual. He secretly hoped that Ariana was taking her daily walk in the garden.

He turned to see a thick-necked human wearing dark brown leather armor staring at him.

In a flash, Fenris was on him. The man was prone on the ground with the tip of Fenris’ sword piercing his throat.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now?” Fenris snarled.

“I’m the new guard for the lady of the house!” the man babbled.

“What?” Fenris snapped.

“The master bought me just yesterday. He told the broker that his wife would need her own guard, and so here I am,” he said with a fierce nod.

“Why haven’t I heard of you then?” Fenris asked, pressing the blade a little deeper.

“Because I just learned of it myself,” an official voice called from across the garden.

Fenris stepped back as Selvig approached the men. The human coughed and staggered to his feet. He loomed over six feet tall, and his arms were almost as thick as his neck. He was quickly overpowered, though, and Fenris felt uneasy. The boy wasn’t fit to guard a family pet, let alone his mistress.

“Fenris, meet Caleb,” Selvig said with an absent wave.

“Hello,” Caleb said, thrusting his hand out for Fenris to shake.

Fenris did not move to take the hand offered to him. After a few moments, Caleb drew it back and awkwardly wiped his sweaty palms against his pant legs.

“Probably a better idea anyway,” he said with a small smile. “You scared me there.”

“That’s the point,” Fenris spat.

Selvig gave him a chastising glance but said nothing.

“The mistress will be ready in half an hour, Caleb,” Selvig said. “Fenris will take you to the armory so you can procure a weapon.”

Caleb nodded and dutifully followed Fenris as he was led deeper into the manor where the weapons were kept. Fenris phased his hand out so that he could unlock the door. Caleb whistled in admiration.

“That’s amazing,” he gushed. “How do you do that?”

“These brands afford me special powers,” Fenris replied.

“Those markings are so cool. I wish I could have those,” Caleb said.

“I have no memory of my life before getting them, and the pain of having them sometimes is torture. You know nothing of the suffering I have endured for these ‘cool markings,’” Fenris said as his voice dripped with contempt.

“Ah, never mind then,” Caleb said weakly.

Fenris stood by as Caleb went through the different weapons. He lifted various ones and tested their weight in his hands.

“What’s your specialty?” Fenris asked after several minutes of watching Caleb amble through the room.

“I just hit things hard enough until they stop moving,” Caleb answered with a shrug. “There isn’t much else to fighting than that, is there?”

Fenris shook his head. Time was running out.

“Grab the damn axe and let’s go,” Fenris said, exasperated.

Caleb grabbed the first axe he saw, a large double-headed monstrosity. Despite his strong arm, he narrowly avoided dropping it. Rather than selecting another weapon, he simply hoisted it over his shoulder and shuffled down the hallway.

“He’s going to get her killed or kill her on accident,” Fenris said with a great sigh.

----

Ariana stood in the entryway as Orana fussed over her outfit. She was wearing a dress made of layers of sky-blue gauzy material. It clung to her curves in the right ways while also being exceptionally modest. Her hair was down, with the top pulled back and braided. She wore no makeup, and Fenris could confirm that her lips were naturally that pink. He paused for a moment to admire her. She was breathtaking.

Caleb whistled low so that only Fenris could hear.

“This won’t be a bad gig after all,” he said with a chuckle.

He puffed out his chest and strode confidently over to Ariana. He gave a deep bow cut short by the shifting weight of his great axe. He recovered well, though, and managed not to fall over.

“I am here to serve you, my lady,” he said softly.

Ariana smiled warmly at him, and Orana cocked her head in curiosity.

“You are my new guard, yes?” Ariana asked.

“Yes, my lady. I will protect your life with my own. I will not let any harm come to you while I am at your side,” he answered with a small smile.

‘He is good,’ Fenris thought with a frown. ‘But can he back it up?’

 “Then let us go,” Ariana said happily. “I am eager to see the market.”

“Lead the way,” Caleb said with an extension of his arm.

Caleb pointed the way with the axe in his attempt to be impressive. However, he lost control, and the blade narrowly missed Ariana’s cheek.

Both she and Orana yelped and leaped back as the axe clattered to the ground. There was a moment of silence as everyone was frozen in surprise. Caleb hastily picked up his weapon and mumbled an apology. Ariana nodded and hurried out the door with Orana in tow. Casting Fenris a sheepish look, Caleb dashed after his mistress as best as he could while wrestling with his axe.

“That’s it,” Fenris growled. “I’m going.”

----

Ariana and Orana had been in the shop for almost an hour. Fenris stood by the carriage while Caleb and the ladies were inside. The air was dusty and hot. He watched as a palanquin holding a rotund woman and her three yippy dogs was carried by six men towards the jewelry district. Fenris vaguely wondered how many slaves attended to those dogs at home.

“Watch it!” a voice shouted from inside the shop, followed by a loud crash.

Ariana’s voice called out an apology, and soon, the trio emerged from the store. Ariana tried to soothe the enraged shop owner and offered money for the broken items.

“I’m so sorry,” she said and bowed.

The shop owner spat on the ground, took the gold, and called Ariana a slur word before slamming the door of the shop in her face.

“What happened?” Fenris hissed at Caleb, who had a satisfied smile on his face.

“I accidentally knocked a vase over,” he replied with a shrug.

“Accidentally?” Fenris repeated incredulously.

“Complete accident,” Caleb answered smoothly. “At least we can move on to a new store now. Maybe get something to eat.”

Fenris clenched his jaw. This would never happen to Danarius. After a few minutes of composing herself, Ariana approached the carriage.

“We’re ready to move on now,” she said to the driver as she climbed in. She acted as though nothing were amiss and waved away Orana as she tried to comfort her.

“I’m alright,” Ariana said with a reassuring pat on Orana’s hand. “I grew up an apostate. You get used to a lot worse than that.”

Orana went silent, and the carriage moved on. Fenris pondered Ariana’s statement. There was so much about her he didn’t know, and questions began to bubble up. Ones he was sure would never be answered.

Fenris grabbed the post on the back corner of the carriage for guards to ride. Caleb grabbed the one opposite of him, and the carriage had to settle a moment from the lopsided weight. Fenris waved for the driver to move on, and the carriage took off. He glanced at Caleb, who just watched the scenery go by. Fenris snorted in irritation. Guards should be on the alert for threats and not sightseeing.

At the next shop, Fenris insisted that Caleb guard the carriage while he went in with Ariana. Caleb grumbled but had no choice but to obey the senior-ranking slave.

The shop was for foreign wares. Fenris vaguely recognized an Antivan Crow statuette. They were used to mark someone for assassination. It seemed that the target’s family had sold the bird sometime after the victim’s death.

“What is she looking for?” Fenris asked Orana, out of earshot of Ariana.

“Something to remind her of home,” Orana replied quietly, and as the crowd shifted, she returned to her lady’s side.

Fenris frowned. Looking for something Ferelden in a Tevinter market would be like finding a chantry sister in a brothel. Sure, you may find one, but it won’t be what you expected. The crowd was getting larger as more people entered the store. The shopkeeper gave out glasses of a new Nevarran wine he had just procured. Just as Fenris was about to suggest they move on to a new shop, Ariana suddenly squealed in delight, which drew the attention of everyone inside.

“It’s so cute!” she gasped, holding up her find.

Fenris had to push aside a shop slave to see she was holding a small mabari figurine. The beasts were wrinkled and ugly, yet Fereldens loved their dogs to death. Ariana was delighted, though, and quickly made her purchase.

“Come on! Let’s celebrate,” she said, grabbing Orana’s arm with her own. Fenris followed the women with a smile on his face. Her joy was infectious.

Ten minutes later, Ariana purchased them all in ice cream. She and Orana walked through the market stalls as they enjoyed their cones. Caleb eagerly munched on his while Fenris and the driver slowly savored theirs. Ariana had purchased an entire large scoop just for him. He had decided on strawberry, and she had given him a small smile when he requested that flavor. As the cream dripped down his palm, he marveled at how different this moment felt from any other moment in his life. He was shopping with a beautiful woman, and she treated him more as a companion than a slave.

Ariana’s scream rang out above the din of the crowd. Fenris and Caleb whirled around to see a large man grasping Ariana’s arm. She struggled against him, but his grip was too strong.

“Give me all your gold, bitch!” the man roared as he yanked her towards him.

Everyone in the market gave them a wide berth with their heads down. They were pretending that nothing was going on. No one was about to stick their necks out for a Ferelden dog lord.

Caleb grabbed at his axe and charged forward. As he lifted the blade, the great weight of his axe pulled him to the side, and he narrowly avoided the palanquin from earlier. The three little dogs became enraged and leaped to the ground, nipping and snarling as they encircled him.

“Useless,” Fenris hissed.

He dashed through the crowd. Those who could not get out of the way fast enough were simply dodged or bowled over. The large man held Ariana by her arm, and she furiously beat at his hand.

“Let me go, bastard!” she screamed.

The man obeyed, but just as her feet touched the ground, his hand lashed out, and his fingers wrapped around her slender throat.

“You should have just given me the money,” he snarled as he began to squeeze.

Fenris finally reached them. His brands flashed like lightning, and he glowed like the midday sun. The man turned to see eyes filled with rage bearing down on him. Fenris channeled his powers and slammed his ethereal hand through the man’s chest. The thief opened his mouth to scream but choked on the bloody foam that sprayed out. The thundering heart was inside Fenris’ hand, and he crushed it like a grape. The thief’s hand relaxed, and Ariana collapsed into Fenris’ arms as his body fell.

“Are you alright, mistr-” he was interrupted by the look of terror on her.

“F-F-Fenris?” She whispered. “What did you just do?”

He realized she had never seen his brands in action. She was now splattered in blood and looked at him with fear in her eyes.

“My lady!” Caleb shouted and ran up to the pair. “You are safe, thank goodness.”

Feeling angry and helpless, Fenris stood up and addressed the lumbering guard.

“No thanks to you!” he roared. “You useless clod, she would be dead if I hadn’t come along.”

Fenris didn’t care about what spectacle he was making of himself. He stalked back to the carriage and passed by a shocked Orana. He wiped his hand off as best as he could with the gauntlet still covered in blood. Caleb assisted Ariana in standing, and she came back to the carriage. She tried to make eye contact, but Fenris refused to look. He didn’t want to see the fear or disgust on her face. Finally, she lowered her eyes and climbed into the carriage. The driver took them home immediately. Fenris looked back to the discarded ice cream that was now completely melted in the dirt and felt a new welling of anger. He wanted that treat, too.

‘Now things will change,’ he thought bitterly. ‘She’s seen that I am a murderer. I doubt she’ll want to be anywhere near me.’

----

“Who gave you permission to leave?” Danarius roared.

Ariana stood against the wall like a naughty child receiving a lecture.

“I...I just thought that-” she began so quietly Fenris had to strain to hear her.

“You just thought that you’d go galivanting off with no care or concern about any future children you might be carrying!” he roared.

He grabbed the mabari figurine from the table and threw it as hard as possible at her head. The white stonework exploded against the wall, and a few small pieces cut Ariana’s cheek. To her credit, she had not flinched.

“And you,” Danarius snarled as he rounded on Fenris. “Who said that you could go with her? Who was to protect the estate while I was at the senate?”

Fenris wanted to argue that he was only one of several guards who maintained the estate's safety, but he knew that arguing would result in even further punishment, possibly for both him and Ariana.

“No, one master,” Fenris replied.

“So, both of you decided to do as you please,” Danarius snarled, but his tone suddenly shifted to contemplation. “If you hadn’t gone, then Ariana would have certainly been killed or worse.”

The words hung in the air. What was worse than being killed?

“Neither of you are to leave this house. Ever. Not without my express permission. Do you understand?” he asked with his gaze leveled at Ariana.

“Yes, husband,” she squeaked.

“Your will is my own, master,” Fenris replied with a dutiful bow of his head.

“Good,” Danarius said with a nod. “I would hate to have to punish you further.”

He reached out and gently caressed Ariana’s bloody cheek. He guided her chin upward so that he looked into her deep blue eyes.

“Fenris, leave,” Danarius barked. “Ariana and I wish to be alone.”

It took a considerable effort to make his feet move. He was tempted to stay put and demand that Danarius keep his hands off Ariana. To protect her from what was about to come. But he couldn’t. He turned on his heel and left the room like a dutiful slave. He practically flew down the stairs to the slave’s quarters. He didn’t want to hear what was about to happen. He was a coward, and he hated himself for it.

----

The following day, Caleb was not at breakfast. Fenris didn’t even have to ask Selvig about the young man's fate. Such a complete failure of duties deserved death. Whether or not Danarius was merciful enough to make it quick was something Fenris very much doubted.

The bell rang out for Danarius’s bedroom. The low tinkling sound caused the hair on Fenris’ neck to stand on end.

‘I thought he had already left for the senate,’ he thought quite puzzled.

When he arrived at the room, he froze in his tracks. Ariana was the only one there.

“Mistress?” Fenris asked formally.

“I needed to talk to you…privately,” she said softly.

He was tempted to turn on his heels and leave, not giving her the chance to ask questions or express her displeasure. But it was not what a proper slave did, so he stayed put.

“After what happened yesterday…I’ve thought a lot about it,” she said and stepped towards him. “I don’t want you to worry about things between us. It won’t change anything.”

Fenris was shocked and stood there in disbelief. “How can you say that? You saw me murder a man in broad daylight. I held his heart in my hand. How can you tell me that everything is the same?”

She shrunk under his heated gaze and bit her lower lip. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He was angry, sad, and even a bit fearful that everything they had tentatively been building was suddenly crumbling underneath him.

He did the only thing he could think to do.

He moved forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her against him. She looked at him in surprise, but before she could say anything, his lips were against hers. She gasped into the kiss but quickly melted into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he found her mouth as eager as his.

He broke the kiss and took a step back.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That was out of my rank. I accept any punishment you give me.”

“I will not punish you,” she whispered.

Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she looked at him shyly.

“I would have to punish myself for liking it.”

He was tempted to do it again but suddenly realized his surroundings. He looked around and saw the bed where a cruel master terrorized both of them, and he felt wrong.

He straightened up and gave her a formal bow, “I must return to my duties.”

She looked around the room as though she could see into his mind. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him with a knowing look.

“Of course,” she replied. “Please go ahead.”

He looked in the hallway to ensure no one was there and quickly went downstairs. He escaped into his room and rested his head against the door.

‘I need to stop this,’ he thought to himself.

“I don’t know if I can,” he softly replied.

----

After that day Fenris was careful around Ariana. She never said anything to Danarius, so he no longer feared repercussions. Instead, he began to long to kiss her again. Occasionally, he caught her staring. She would quickly look away each time with a faint blush on her cheeks. She had felt right in his arms, and her lips had been soft against his but no less hungry. There had been more than a few nights that he woke up hard and aching to have her.

The first time it happened, he was alarmed. Since he had awakened from having the brands placed, he existed only to serve Danarius. Despite all of Danarius’ training, Fenris never found him attractive or desirable. Until Ariana, he hadn’t even thought about intimacy. Intimacy brought pain. Now, he tentatively wanted something deeper with her—something much closer than mistress and slave.

----

Fenris lay awake in his room and stared at the small, sealed window. It was the middle of the night. Torchlight from outside illuminated the yellow surface, which was opaque from years of dust.

It was bloody hot.

He simply wore a sheet to bed. The air was sticky, and he wished he could feel a breeze on his skin. Fenris worked everything over in his mind once more. Why was he so drawn to Ariana? Perhaps it was because he found her attractive? No, that wasn’t enough to make him break rank. Was it because she was so kind? No, kindness wasn’t something that could be relied on. He recalled the look on her face that first night and nights after that when she came from Danarius’ room with bruises on her body. She did not cry anymore. She held her head up high and returned to her room to heal herself. The reality dawned on him then: He was drawn to her because she knew the torture he went through. They shared that nightmare, and despite everything, she did not wither under the weight of her life. Fenris admired her for that.

He hissed a curse and pulled himself up from his bedroll. The old blankets clung to his skin, and when he turned, he saw a sweaty outline where his body had just been.

“I’m not getting any sleep anyway,” he muttered, pulling on a pair of linen breeches. He was going for a walk.

The water from the kitchen faucet was lukewarm, even in the coldest setting. He turned it on and stuck his head under the water. It flowed over his neck, and he rinsed his hair out. The droplets ran down his back when he stood, and he felt a little cooler.

His journey led him to the garden. The jasmine bloomed, and the white flowers gave off the loveliest fragrance. A breeze stirred, and Fenris sighed in delight. It raked over his wet hair and sweat-soaked body and chilled him. He shivered, and goosebumps raised on his arms. It was delightful.

His reverie was interrupted by the soft sounds of crying. As he turned the corner, he saw Ariana standing by the gazebo. His face was turned up to the moon, and he saw trails of tears glittering on her cheeks. His first instinct was to go to her. To wrap her in his arms and tell her he would protect her from anything threatening her. However, his feet were rooted to the spot because it was a lie. He could not protect her from Danarius any better than he could defend himself or any other slave. Fenris felt an overwhelming sense of pity. Almost every wife was a better station than their slaves, but for Danarius, there was no difference. Ariana was a slave, just as he was.

He felt another breeze and watched Ariana pull her shawl around her shoulders tighter. She shook her head with determination, turned, and saw him.

“Fenris?” she gasped.

“Mistress,” he replied with a formal tilt of his head. “I am sorry to intrude.”

She hurriedly wiped her eyes with the corner of her shawl and shook her head again.

“No, I need to get to bed anyway,” she said softly. Her eyes were downcast.

He stood aside, but as she passed, he felt a need to reach out and touch her.

“Ariana,” he whispered, his voice husky.

She paused and looked up at his face. He saw that her eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. He suddenly wanted to do something, anything to make her feel better.

‘This is a bad idea!’ he thought with a rising panic, but he ignored it.

Fenris held his arms open, and she was inside them in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

‘Right now, I don’t care,’ he told himself, and his inner voice went silent.

She buried her face into his throat and began sobbing. Without thinking, he brushed his lips across her head and inhaled her scent. It was intoxicating and better than anything else in this garden. He didn’t know how long they stood there, but when she finally pulled away, he felt an emptiness from her departure.

“Thank you,” she said with a shaky smile. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. He wanted to draw her back into his arms and kiss her again, but he knew he was already pushing his luck.

Ariana peered around the garden to make sure they were alone. Satisfied that they were, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him the softest kiss on his cheek. It was barely a flutter of her lips against his skin, but it sent his mind reeling. In a flash, she was out of sight and back in the house. Fenris sighed and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He needed to try to sleep. It would be dawn soon, and he had a feeling that it would be a tiring day.

Hours later, the household received the news that it had been waiting for nearly five months. Danarius was delighted, and Fenris was devastated.

Ariana was pregnant.

Chapter Text

The midwife arrived in the morning and declared that the lady of the house was with child. A collective sigh of relief passed through the house. Everyone had been on edge since Danarius began earnestly trying to father an offspring—his frustration and rage when unsuccessful had taken its toll on the slaves. Four were killed in the last two months alone. Rachelle was among the victims when she accidentally spilled wood polish and stained a set of snowfleur shoes Danarius used for social events. She didn’t come to dinner that night, and Selvig was ordered to buy her replacement the next day.

Everyone was glad to hear the news. Everyone except Fenris, but he knew he had no right to feel anything other than joy for his master.

Danarius seemed to reform at the news. He doted on Ariana and treated her more like a queen than a surrogate. He ordered that all slaves obey her every whim.

Now that his duty was done, he spent more time away from home. He went to the magisterium and attended more social events now that he had a legitimate reason to leave Ariana at home.

While he was gone, he did not see how she deteriorated.

There were days when no one would see her leave her room. The only sign that she still existed was Orana frequently going to the kitchen to get things for her mistress.

----

Fenris sighed. They had been out almost nightly, and Fenris was tired of the Tevene social life.

Danarius sat next to a blonde vixen and whispered into her ear. She put her hand to her mouth and giggled obnoxiously at whatever he had said.

“Oh, Danarius, you are too much,” she purred, running her hand along his arm.

Fenris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Danarius occasionally snuck glances back to his slave, so Fenris knew he had to keep his countenance blank. This charade had gone on for three hours now.

They were attending a musical salon held by Lady Aquinea Thalrassian. She had made her rounds earlier in the evening to greet each guest. She had a tan complexion and short black hair that was slicked back with fragrant oils. Her almond-shaped eyes were already glassy from too much drink by the time she reached Danarius.

“Oh, Danarius! It has been too long, darling,” she crooned while kissing each of his cheeks. “Do enjoy my little soiree tonight. I am hosting an amazing bard that Titus is sponsoring. They are from Orlais, and their music is divine.”

“I am sure it will be a delight,” Danarius replied with a silken voice. He raised her hand to his lips to give the barest kiss on her knuckles.

A slave arrived at her side with a fresh glass of chilled white wine. She took it gladly and made her goodbyes.

Soon after, the blonde woman arrived at Danarius’s side. Fenris recognized her. Prior to the wedding, she frequently appeared at events where he was scheduled to attend and spent a large part of the night hanging on his arm. This was the first time they had seen each other in almost a year, and she was making a shameless show of her happiness.

“Fenris, get Ceres and me a drink. A Nevarran red merlot,” Danarius said with a casual wave of his hand to dismiss his slave.

As Fenris turned to leave, Danarius bent forward to give her a searing kiss. She gasped but quickly reciprocated the affection. They were like enraptured newlyweds. Fortunately, the alcove they were in a small alcove surrounded by curtains, so their privacy was assured. Judging by the sounds from most of the other alcoves, no one was truly here for the music.

As Fenris grasped the wine glass stems, a polite cough came from his left. He turned to see Dorian smiling beside him.

“Fenris, right?” Dorian asked with his usual brilliant smile.

“Yes, ser,” Fenris replied with a cautious head tilt.

“I saw your master earlier, but the blonde woman he’s with is not your mistress. Is Ariana quite well?” Dorian asked.

Fenris prickled at the Altus, asking about his mistress. It wasn’t his business to request such information, especially from a slave. As he stared at Dorian, he was suddenly reminded that this man had shown genuine kindness to Ariana. She would have no problem with him knowing that she was pregnant.

“She is with child, ser,” Fenris replied simply. “She has been unable to attend events with Master Danarius because of it.”

“Yes,” Dorian said with a solemn nod. “I heard it’s not going well at all.”

Fenris paused at his words.

“Ser?” he asked once his mind began to work again.

Dorian studied him carefully as though trying to see any duplicity.

“You need to talk to your cook,” he said quietly.

He patted Fenris on the shoulder and made to leave.

“Oh, and do enjoy the music. Mother has spent more on hosting this charlatan than on drinks which is saying quite a lot,” Dorian said with a smirk.

Fenris turned on his heel and dutifully took the wine to his master and date. As he handed them their drinks, the lights dimmed, and the bard took their place on the stage. They were young and beautiful with long brown hair and large green eyes. They were an accomplished tenor singer, and even Fenris got lost in one of the love ballads. When the performance was over Danarius cast Fenris a delighted grin.

“Ceres and I will be going to her villa for the evening,” Danarius said with a hidden challenge in his tone. Would Fenris try to defend the sanctity of his master’s marriage? Not likely.

“Your will is my own,” Fenris replied with a nod. “Shall I arrange for clothes to be sent for you?”

Danarius frowned. He hoped to get a rise out of Fenris, but the elf was no fun tonight.

“Yes,” Danarius answered. “That sounds lovely. You will take a letter to the house, and Selvig will know what to do. I will expect you bright and early in the morning.”

Danarius wrote a letter while Ceres hung on his arm, nipping at his ear and whispering scintillating promises of what they would do later that night.

With a letter in hand, Fenris could ride a carriage back towards the manor rather than hang on the poles. He entered through the slave’s corridor, which led straight into the kitchen. It was empty, the fire was out, and everyone had turned in hours ago. Fenris approached Selvig’s room and rapped on the door with metal-sheathed knuckles.

The door flew open, and Selvig stared at him, blinking in surprise.

“Fenris?” he asked. “Where is the master?”

Fenris explained the situation.

“At six, I expect you in the front hall to take a package to the master. The carriage will take you to Lady Ceres’s manor for you to fetch him. Don’t be late,” Selvig said with a firm nod. Before he could shut the door, Fenris placed his hand on the frame to stop him.

“Selvig?” he asked softly.

The old elf stared at him in shock. Fenris had never shown insubordination to him.

“How is the mistress?” Fenris asked after a few moments of trying to find the words.

Selvig frowned deeply but answered, “She will be fine.”

Fenris released his hold on the wood, and the door slammed shut on his face. Something was going on, and he wanted to find out what it was.

In the morning, he did as instructed. He stood in the foyer as a hall boy loaded his arms with a package containing his master’s clothes and a few smaller packages that Fenris recognized as gifts. Although he never paid for sex, Danarius did give presents to women who were unique to him.

As Fenris waited for the carriage, a maid scurried up the stairs with an armload of blankets. It was too hot for the many covers he saw go up the stairs. He made a mental note to ask about that when he returned.

-----

Ceres lived in a modest apartment in the lower Noble District. She wasn’t high enough status to live with the proper upper crust like Dorian or Danarius, but she did have enough wealth to buy a small title and property to match.

Ceres’s butler met them outside and took the packages from Fenris.

“Wait here,” the man commanded in a baritone that sounded more like a growl.

Fenris nodded dutifully and waited...and waited…and waited. The sun climbed past noon before Danarius made his appearance. Ceres gave him an enormous farewell hug and a full kiss on the lips. She was wearing a see-through golden gown, and a heavy golden necklace hung from her bruised throat. Her eyes glittered with desire, and Fenris realized that she enjoyed the rough affections of his master. She may have been just as twisted as Danarius was, and the thought made Fenris pause.

As they loaded into the carriage, Danarius smiled at Fenris.

“It’s nice to meet a passionate woman. Ariana is nice, but she doesn’t have the same vigor as Ceres,” he laughed.

Fenris willed his face to remain blank. He had watched Ariana play with the slave children, heal Adrian, and the look in her eyes when she found that mabari figurine. She had more passion than Danarius gave her credit for. It just wasn’t between her legs for a sadist.

Fenris stayed silent, and Danarius passed by him with a raised eyebrow.

“Perhaps I will judge your passions tonight, little wolf,” he murmured.

Channeling his best training, Fenris nodded and replied, “Your will, master.”

Danarius smirked at him and cocked his head with intrigue.

“Good boy,” he said simply before climbing into the carriage.

At home, Danarius headed straight to his library and shut himself inside. Fenris stood alone. He was free for the moment.

He decided to make his rounds on the estate. He began with the ground floor. The children were in the garden, but Ariana was nowhere to be found despite the nice weather. He avoided the library for the time being. Danarius was in a good mood, but he didn’t want to chance being the reason that changed.

Satisfied the main first floor was secure, he decided to check on the second. Danarius’ room was still securely shut and warded from the night before. Danarius always took precautions to protect his sanctuary while he was away. His privacy was, at times, an obsession. Content that nothing was amiss, Fenris crept down the wing of Ariana’s room. Her door was shut, and as he approached, Orana emerged with a food tray.

“Oh! Hello, Fenris,” she said quietly. She pulled the door shut behind her and looked at his confused face.

“Is the mistress not hungry?” he asked, pointing to the full tray.

She shook her head and frowned.

“She hasn’t eaten much in days,” she replied. “She can’t keep much down when she does.”

“I…,” Fenris began before faltering a moment. “…can I help at all?”

She contemplated a moment before handing him the tray.

“Please take this to the cook and ask for some mint tea and toast. She’s been able to eat that, at least,” she replied gently.

He nodded, and she gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Fenris,” she said softly.

She opened the door again, and Fenris saw Ariana lying under a mountain of blankets. The fireplace was blazing even during the hot day, and the room smelled of mint. Ariana shifted under the covers and moaned softly.

“I’m here, mistress,” Orana cooed and shut the door behind her. Her voice was muffled, but Fenris heard her singing a lullaby the slaves sang to their children.

----

When Fenris arrived with the tray of food, Meredith took one look at him, nodded, and said, “Tea and toast are coming up.”

As she put the kettle on to boil, Fenris sat at the table and observed her. She had bags under her eyes from sleepless nights.

“Is she alright?” Fenris finally asked.

Meredith turned her head to look at his eyes. She looked tired and despondent.

“No,” was all that she replied as she returned to her task.

The silence stretched, and Orana soon arrived to take the tea to Ariana’s room.

----

Fenris paid more attention in the next few days. Large trays of food went up to her room and returned untouched. The midwife visited on the fifth day to examine Ariana. Her face was grim when she left the room and went directly to Selvig.

She handed over more satchels of dawn lotus tea and said, “She needs to drink as much as possible. A pot with every meal at least.”

Danarius seemed oblivious. Whether it was genuine or willful, Fenris could not say.

----

The month of Ferventis arrived, and the temperatures only climbed higher. Summer was the most brutal season in Tevinter, and they hadn’t even fully started yet.

At the end of the week Danarius decided to spend another night with his new lover Ceres. Fenris had since learned that she had been a sex slave who used her cunning to earn enough money to buy her freedom. She had married a slave merchant, and under suspicious circumstances, he died a year after their marriage. Ceres then inherited his empire and became the third-largest purveyor of lives in the empire. Her background as a slave, however, kept her from achieving any actual rank in the nobility.

Fenris was left behind once again, and he took the time to enjoy his single day of freedom.

It should not have surprised him when he was awoken with a bucket of ice-cold water and the familiar cackle of a horrible woman.

Hadriana grabbed his sensitive ear and hauled him up from his now soaking-wet bedroll.

“Strip,” she commanded.

He wanted to resist, but her hands flickered with red, angry tendrils of magic. He recognized it as a spell Danarius taught her. It was intended to run through Fenris’ brands and cause the most pain possible. He couldn’t control the anger in his eyes, but he obeyed. He peeled off his wet linen breeches until he was bare before her.

He hated her.

Hadriana’s eyes lingered over his cock, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips.

He hated her so damn much.

The one benefit was that if she touched him, Danarius would rip her apart. Apprentice or not, she had to follow his rules to keep his mentorship.

“March!” she commanded, pointing towards the slaves' dining hall.

He clenched his jaw but complied with her instructions.

He found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with several of the house slaves. They were all wet and naked.

The table was set with a huge feast. It wasn’t anything they would ever be allowed to eat. Pheasant with a chestnut stuffing. Fried fish with potatoes and white sauce. Mountains of desserts of all kinds. Bottles of wine and ale. Platters and platters of food covered almost the entire table.

Fenris suppressed a snarl. Hadriana was a bitch. The last time she did this, she threw buckets of dog shit all over the food and commanded them to either eat it or starve. It sat on the table for three days until Danarius complained he could smell the rot upstairs and had it thrown out. It was all the food they were afforded for those three days and two after.

Hadriana picked up an Orlesian frilly cake and took a bite. She made a grand act of ecstatic moans and licked all the frosting off before devouring it. She could do this all day. While she chose another treat to eat, Fenris noted that Selvig was not among the slaves.

Selvig was off-limits. Danarius didn’t love any of his slaves, but Selvig was raised above the others, so they had a singular leader amongst them to follow. His loyalty was bought and paid for through acts of amnesty. Although Selvig wouldn’t stop Hadriana, he was the first to care for people when she left. He always hoarded towels and extra rations in his room when she went on a tirade. Fenris hoped the old elf had continued to be prepared. They had all been lured into a false sense of security since Hadriana hadn’t appeared before the wedding.

The cook was there, three maids, five houseboys, and Orana was at the far end. The nudity didn’t bother Fenris. Privacy was a luxury slaves weren’t afforded.

Orana looked very uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot.

“Mistress…,” she said tentatively.

Hadriana leveled a steely gaze at Orana and broke into a devilish smile.

“Ah, yes, Orana. You’re serving the new lady of the house, aren’t you?” she asked with a sickly-sweet tone.

Orana nodded and replied, “Yes, mistress. I need to get her breakfast up to her. She needs her tea.”

As if on cue, the bell for Ariana’s room rang out. Hadriana stared while it tinkled. It had a lighter, softer sound than the one for Danarius. After thinking, she looked back to Orana with a wicked grin.

“Let the bitch wait,” she hissed.

They drew in a collective gasp they weren’t willing to let out. Hadriana was taking a lot of liberties with Danarius gone.

Orana went quiet, and she sniffled quietly. Fenris ground his teeth and clenched his fists. He dreamt that one day, he’d be able to reach into her chest and rip her heart out. Today was not that day, though.

Hadriana’s torment continued. She gleefully ignored Ariana’s bell even though it rang several times.

She was feeling particularly evil today. She promised the houseboys that they would be allowed to eat if they raped one of the younger maids. She whipped them into a frenzy and shouted encouragement, but they could not begin their assault when a clear voice shouted above the din.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

It was not Danarius, though. Ariana was standing in the archway and stared down Hadriana. The houseboys backpedaled until they pressed themselves against the wall. The maid cried but did not move from the table. Everyone stilled, waiting for punishment. Fenris took stock of her, and his heart sank a little.

Her usually pale skin was dull, and her blonde hair looked dry and lifeless. He could see her collar bones were more pronounced, and her cheeks had a hollowness about them. Her delicate hands were clenched into fists, and her eyes were full of fury as she walked farther into the hall. She stood between Hadriana and the slaves. Hadriana was taller, but Ariana’s presence loomed larger.

“I said, what the hell is going on here?” Ariana repeated, slower this time as though talking to a child.

Hadriana smiled and made a dismissive wave.

“You must be Danarius’ wife. I am Hadriana, his apprentice ,” she said as though that fact should impress Ariana.

“An apprentice? That gives you license to books in his study, reagents in his cupboard, and an audience with him when needed. That does not give you permission to arrive and leave at your convenience or torment my servants,” Ariana hissed and stepped closer to Hadriana.

Hadriana faltered and took a small step back. The air in the room changed. She was no longer in control.

Ariana drew herself as tall as possible and screamed, “Get out of my house!”

Hadriana’s jaw dropped and sputtered, “You can’t kick me out!”

“The hell I can’t! You are a mere apprentice. I am the lady of the house. Danarius is my husband . There is no kingdom in Thedas where I don’t outrank you, so I repeat: Get out of my house!” Ariana snarled.

 A dangerous gleam flickered in Hadriana’s eyes, and she raised her hand to Ariana. Red sparks crackled at the ends of her fingers.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed Hadriana’s shoulder and turned her away from Ariana. It was Selvig, and his ordinarily unreadable face was etched with anger.

“Did I just see you raise your hands to the mistress of this house?” He bellowed.

Hadriana cringed as the words registered in her mind. She suddenly looked terrified.

“If you value your life, you will remove yourself from this house. If I were you, I would not wish to be here when Danarius hears what you were about to do to his unborn child,” Selvig said. His tone dropped low and became threatening.

Hadriana looked around and realized she was surrounded. She was a sheep in the wolf’s den.

She wrenched her shoulder from Selvig’s grip and raised her chin in defiance. She glared at Ariana and hissed, “Forgive me, my lady, I forgot my place. I will return another time when Danarius is available.”

Ariana folded her arms and took stock of Hadriana. “It is quite alright, my dear. I will let Danarius know you wish to see him at his convenience.”

Just as Hadriana turned to leave, Ariana called out, “Oh, and please be careful. Since we’ve had intruders recently, we will be increasing our guards, and they will be told in no uncertain terms to kill on sight.”

Selvig escorted Hadriana out of the house and the slaves broke down when she left. Orana and the maids ran up to Ariana to hug her. The houseboys apologized profusely, and Meredith stood nearby being a mother hen.

“My dear, you don’t look well at all. What can I make you eat? Anything you want,” she asked while stroking Ariana’s hair. It was a gesture that a crueler owner might punish, but Ariana gave her a shaky smile.

“I just want some tea and toast, please,” she said before adding. “But it’s ok that you all get dressed first.”

At that moment, everyone realized they were naked, and several faces began to blush. The houseboys covered themselves and practically ran back to their rooms. The maids and Meredith gave their thanks and returned to their rooms for clothes. Orana promised to meet Ariana in her room promptly after she dressed.

Quite quickly, the only ones who remained were Ariana and Fenris. She walked with him back down the hallway to two doorways. To the left were the stairs to the main house, and to the right was Fenris’ room.

She blushed and looked to the ground, and Fenris was reminded that he was still naked. He folded his hands in front of his body, but it was still insufficient to cover everything fully.

“That was amazing to watch,” he said with a smile.

“It was nothing. She was overstepping, and I couldn’t stand by while she hurt my…” she trailed off.

‘Property? Slaves? Things?’ his mind raced to fill in the blanks.

“Friends,” She finally finished.

She smiled brighter this time, “I know I’m the mistress of this house, and my husband is your owner. But where I come from, there aren’t slaves. We have servants, but they are paid, and almost all are treated better than this. Your life is hard enough without me making any more trouble for you. I’ve gotten to know so many of you that you’re more my friends than anything else.”

She suddenly looked bashful, turned her head away, and pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. Fenris took a step forward and reached out to touch her. He cupped her cheek in his hand and realized once again that despite looking so unhealthy, she was still beautiful. Her skin was cool, and she shivered at his touch.

“Your hand is warm,” she murmured.

“I’m glad you like it,” Fenris said, his voice becoming husky. “We are honored to have you, my lady.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. The flesh under his hand began to flush, and he felt it warm beneath his fingers. His hunger flared, but it wasn’t for food. He wanted to press his lips to hers and devour her with a kiss. His eyes darkened, and without another thought, his head lowered to meet her lips with his.

“Mistress! I have your tea!” A cheery voice called from the archway.

Ariana flinched away from his hand. Fenris looked to the floor and took a few steps back until his back hit the wooden door that led to his room.

Orana stood and held a tray. She grinned at the two of them, still aglow from watching Hadriana be thrown from the house. She was oblivious to the tension between Ariana and Fenris.

“I’ll be waiting in your room, mistress!” she chirped and ran up the stairs to Ariana’s room.

They were alone again. Voices returned to the kitchen. They were lighter and happier than Fenris had heard in a long time. Even Selvig laughed at some joke Meredith had told him.

“Fenris, I’m sorry -,” Ariana began before he pounced on her.

She gasped in surprise as his lips crashed against hers, and she responded eagerly. She tangled her fingers into his pale hair and moaned into the kiss. He chuckled and pressed his body against her. He was aching and hard, and unconsciously, he ground his erection against her belly.

‘This is so wrong. We need to stop. Maker, I don’t want this to end. My bedroom is right over there,’ he thought as his mind raced a mile a minute.

Her hands suddenly pushed him away, and he felt a rush of sexual frustration and hurt. It was quickly banished when he realized she was bent over and moaning from pain.

“Ariana?” he asked and leaned down to put a hand on her shoulder.

“I need to lie down,” she gasped.

He crushed the idea of taking her to his room. When Danarius eventually returned home, the last thing he would want is to find his wife in his slave’s bed.

He grabbed a pair of linen breeches and tied them at the top to move through the house without exposure.

She was shivering and crying, and he scooped her up in his arms.

“Don’t worry, I have you,” he whispered into her ear like a chant. “You’re safe. I have you.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and smothered a cry of pain. Fenris knew very little about pregnancies but knew this wasn’t right.

When he finally arrived at her room, he kicked the door open. Orana squeaked in surprise and almost fell off her chair. Fenris paid no attention as he carried Ariana like a bride and set her on the bed. Orana had a fire going, and thick blankets were on the bed. Orana came to Ariana’s side and held her hand.

“I’m cold,” Ariana said, to Fenris’ surprise.

He hardly had a stitch on, and beads of sweat were already forming. Orana didn’t look much better, but she tucked a quilt around Ariana’s neck. Ariana lay on her side, her breaths coming hard and fast.

“We’ll get you warmed up,” Orana whispered. “Do you want your tea?”

Ariana suddenly looked pained and shook her head violently. Orana shoved Fenris aside and pressed a towel under Ariana’s face as she began retching. There was nothing to bring up, so she just dry heaved and moaned from pain.

Orana stroked her hair and said to Fenris, “Thank you. I have it from here. Please go.”

He was torn because there was nothing he could do except watch her writhe in pain, but he didn’t want to leave.

“Orana, is she…” he trailed off as Ariana moaned and curled up into herself.

She looked to Fenris with tears in her eyes and shook her head.

He felt panicked, but he knew he must remain calm.

“I’ll let the others know,” he said and made to leave the room

“Fenris!” Ariana cried out as he got to the door.

At once, he was at her side and grabbed one of her hands into his.

Tears ran down her face, but she still smiled at him, “Please tell the others to eat all that food. I don’t want them to think it’s off limits.”

He was floored. Even in her suffering, she looked out for those under her.   

“I will,” he said softly. She closed her eyes and tucked her head underneath the blanket like a turtle that returned to its shell.

He dropped her hand and left the room quickly. As he shut the door behind him, he suddenly felt ashamed. Ariana was sick, and he leaped on her like a starving wolf on a lamb. He resolved to apologize for his brashness the next time he spoke to her in private.

His chest tightened, ‘If there is a next time.’

He went downstairs to where everyone was already enjoying the feast that Hadriana had left behind. Meredith lovingly described each dish with the others and telling how they were made. She loved her craft, which was good. Not many slaves liked their jobs. Selvig was chewing on a roll and watched the younger people flit around as they laughed and talked. This was a very rare scene for them. Sometimes, after a holiday feast, they could dine on the scraps. This was different, though. This was better. One of the houseboys raised a toast to their mistress. Two of the others profusely apologized to the young maid, who shook her head and waved them away. They hadn’t acted on Hadriana’s orders, so she forgave them. When Fenris entered the kitchen, the room went silent, and everyone looked at him. The look on his face was enough.

He looked to Selvig and said, “Lady Ariana said we are to enjoy this feast. She does not want it to go to waste.”

Selvig, Fenris, and Meredith looked at each other somberly. The younger slaves were oblivious to what was going on, but the older slaves knew that something very wrong was happening. If it had been Danarius, they’d be silently placing bets and enjoying the reprieve. However, it didn’t feel right with Ariana. She was too nice for them to enjoy her suffering.

Selvig sent a message to Danarius about Ariana’s condition. Fenris went to the garden to pace but found it only aggravated him to be surrounded by the flowers Ariana loved so much. He went to the armory instead. He carefully polished his sword and gauntlets and kept looking at the door. There was no word yet on her condition. The midwife arrived mid-morning and went straight up to Ariana’s room.

Danarius arrived later that night. Fenris stood by as Danarius went about the library and cursed in Tevene. He poured through his books to see if there was anything his blood magic could do at this point. At two in the morning, he grew enraged. He threw the book he was reading at Fenris and yelled at him to leave. Fenris slipped out of the room and saw Orana running up the stairs with towels. His stomach dropped.

He had nightmares that night—nightmares of bells. Ariana’s fingers were on his skin as she poured her magic into him. She filled him up till he was almost overflowing like a cup, and suddenly, Hadriana and her red magic set his brands on fire. The dream shifted, and it was Ariana again, and he was pulling her into his room. His fingers tangled in her hair. She fell back on his bed, but then she was sick and writhing. She begged him for help, but he was powerless. He tried reaching out to her, but his arms were tied to his sides. The damn bells kept ringing as she cried until he couldn’t hear her anymore. He woke up in a cold sweat. It was silent save for his gasping breaths. It was early, but he wanted to get out of his room. It was suffocating in there.

When he got to the slaves’ dining hall, Orana, Selvig, and Meredith stood together. Selvig hugged Orana, who sobbed into his chest, and Meredith rubbed her back with tears in her eyes.

His heart froze, and he felt like his head was swimming as he approached them.

“Lady Ariana?” he croaked, and Orana looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

“She survived,” she gasped.

She was once again overwhelmed with tears and buried her head again.

A horrifying feeling of relief washed over Fenris. She was safe. She wasn’t going to die. It was immediately followed by feeling sickened that he wasn’t sadder at the loss of her child. He hung his head, feeling ashamed, and turned to walk back to his room to dress for the day.

Selvig peered over Orana’s head and called to Fenris, “Danarius is in the library with the midwife. Take him a breakfast tray.”

The words were left unspoken. Check and make sure he wasn’t murdering the poor woman because Ariana failed to carry his child.

He was shocked to hear a shouting match when he reached the library door. He opened the door to see Danarius towering over the petite midwife and roaring like a bear. Her arms were folded, and her jaw was set like steel.

When Danarius paused for breath, she snapped, “Are you done yet?”

Both men were stilled by her impertinence.

“I have delivered babies for the best of our imperium. I delivered the children of the last two Archons, and I am telling you there was nothing we could do!” She snapped.

Danarius’ fists were balled up, and it looked like he might strike the woman.

“Was it her fault then? Is she defective?” he snarled.

The midwife shook her head, “No. I examined her myself before she conceived. She is healthy and should bear you many healthy children.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and her look softened, “Sometimes these things happen. Now that it’s over, she will get better. Her body will be ready in two to three months, and she’ll get pregnant again.”

“Two to three months,” Danarius repeated.

“Yes, her body needs time to recover and heal. When she’s gained the weight back and stopped bleeding, I’ll stop by to recheck her,” the midwife said.

Fenris felt awkward as he stood there and listened to this conversation.

‘It’s probably better than what poor Orana went through,’ he thought with a wave of sadness.

However, knowing that Ariana was going to survive brought him relief.

Danarius took a few minutes to think, and the midwife waited patiently to be dismissed.

“Very well. I will trust your expertise and judgment, and I thank you for your services,” he finally said.

The midwife gave a conciliatory nod and made her exit. She would send for payment later, knowing that now was not the time to present her bill.

After the door shut, Fenris stood and held the tray while waiting for instructions.

“Oh, little wolf, what are we to do,” Danarius asked without turning to face him.

Fenris remained silent. Danarius didn’t usually want a response. He preferred the monologue.

“I admit in all this time I’ve gotten used to Lady Ariana’s “affections,”” he continued. “I think we should take a trip while she recovers, lest I get too eager for her.”

The idea of Danarius eagerly lying with Ariana sickened Fenris. He had blissfully been everywhere but by his wife’s side when she needed him most. He was either at parties or in the arms of some tart or even a slave. Fenris quickly crushed the feelings in case his face betrayed his anger.

Danarius waved for Fenris to set the tray down and sat down to begin eating. His eyes roved over Fenris like he was studying a painting.

“I received an invitation from a friend to partake of their villa in Kirkwall,” he drawled, and Fenris knew full well it was his mistress’ “villa.”

“Some magisters and I were thinking we’d visit there, so what better time than now?” he asked between bites of food. “It will only enflame my longing for Ariana’s sweet touch.”

Danarius paused and examined the face of his favorite slave. Suddenly, Fenris wondered if Danarius could see into his mind. Suppose he could see those sinful thoughts he’d been having about her. He willed himself not to show the panic and paranoia bubbling up inside of him.

“Have Selvig arrange passage on a ship for the day after tomorrow,” Danarius said, returning to his meal. “You are dismissed.”

“My master’s will,” Fenris replied with a nod.

Danarius absently waved for Fenris to go. When Fenris had shut the door behind him, he sighed with relief.

The sky turned a soft yellow as the sun peeked over the horizon. His bare feet took him to the door of Ariana’s room. It was ajar, and the morning light bathed the room in a gentle glow. He ached to enter her room and held her. To climb into bed next to her and let her cry into his chest. He wouldn’t just sit in a library trying to figure out the best vacation to take while his wife needed comfort.

Orana stepped out of Ariana’s room to meet Fenris. She looked exhausted but smiled at him anyway.

“Copper for your thoughts?” she asked.

He shook his head, “They are worth more than that.”

“The midwife gave her something to sleep, and she’s resting now. Do you want to see her?” Orana asked.

He looked into her eyes in surprise and saw concern but a glimmer of something else. Understanding?

He entered the room quietly. The fire was low in the hearth, and the room wasn’t blisteringly hot. Ariana was asleep, and her breaths were deep and even. He knelt beside her bed.

“I hate to say it, but she seems more at peace now,” Orana said softly from the door.

She was right. Ariana’s face was more relaxed, and she wasn’t in pain anymore.

“I will be leaving in a couple of days,” Fenris said, gently taking one of her hands into his. She did not stir from her sleep.

“I’ll take good care of her while you’re gone,” Orana replied.

She stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He buried his face in Ariana’s hair and took a deep breath. That familiar floral smell made his heart flutter.

“See that you do,” he hummed while he stroked the hair from Ariana’s face. “If I can’t be here to protect her, I need you to help me.”

“Of course. Now get out of here before they come hunting for you,” she said playfully while gently whacking the shoulder she touched.

He knew he shouldn’t do this in front of Orana, but he couldn’t help himself. He sat up on his knees and gently kissed Ariana’s cheek. Without saying anything more, he stood and steered himself out of the room without looking at Orana’s face.

He reached his room and shut the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the room and closed his eyes. He knew he was playing with fire. The more people knew that he was developing feelings for Ariana, the more likely he was to be burned. He touched his face with the hand that had stroked her hair. It still had her scent. He breathed deeply and felt his heart racing. Oh, but for her, he would brave the fire. The flames in his body were stoked, and he would be swept up in embers either way.

‘Three months will be an eternity,’ he thought to himself.

Once his heart slowed and his head cleared, he returned to the slave’s dining area. Orana was there getting a morning meal and smiled when she saw Fenris. He realized from the look on her face that his secret was safe with her. The meal was leftovers from yesterday’s feast, and they ate in comfortable silence. He would deal with the voyage when it came.

Today he would be grateful that Ariana was alive and safe from Danarius for the time being.

Chapter Text

Two days later, Fenris and Danarius stood in the foyer while a maid fussed over their luggage one last time. Two houseboys stood by with a rolling cart to load the luggage into its carriage. Once content that everything was secure, Danarius ordered the belongings to be sent to the ship. Fenris noted the black box from Danarius’ room was wedged between two large cases.

“You never know what you’ll need when you’re away from home,” Danarius said to Fenris with a playful smirk.

Fenris said nothing and held his knapsack a little tighter. It held his meager belongings. Two sets of linen breeches, one white linen shirt, and the replacement “fine” clothes his Master had so gleefully ripped from his body a year ago. He also had a whetstone, leather balm, and a special present Orana had given him wrapped in the fine clothes. He hid it in the sleeve just in case Danarius decided to search his pack.

Ariana’s door opened, and she descended the stairs with a small smile. She was still very pale and tired-looking, but she still was determined to see them off. She had a thick shawl wrapped around her shoulders despite the heat.

Danarius gave her a saccharine smile. He was back to his original temperament and hadn’t tried to see his wife until now. If she hadn’t come out on her own accord, Danarius would have left without saying goodbye. Fenris felt uneasy. Ariana may not realize it, but Danarius would only attempt an endeavor before giving up and torching the idea entirely. Her time in the house was on a countdown, and only bearing Danarius a healthy child would even hope to stop it.

Fenris gulped at that thought. The idea of Ariana being banished from this house, most likely sold as a slave to another family, was distressing. Danarius would not pick a pleasant place to dump her off. Maybe she’d even be sold to a brothel as an “exotic” woman. He tried to push the thoughts from his head and focused on the beautiful woman in front of him who had her eyes trained on Danarius.

When she reached the landing, she stood a few feet from her husband, and the air was strained between them.

‘If it were me standing there, I’d be holding her in my arms and saying how much I’ll miss her,’ Fenris thought. ‘Then again, I wouldn’t leave her side for a moment after what she’s just been through, but that’s just me.’

Neither Danarius nor Ariana stepped forward to close the distance.

“I hope you have a safe and pleasant journey,” she said softly.

“Captain Samir has always steered a steady ship,” he replied blithely. “I only wish you could be coming with us.”

The lack of sincerity was evident, but Ariana’s face remained placid. She would not rise to his bait.

Danarius stepped forward finally and took her chin in his hand. He tipped her face up and placed a light kiss on her lips.

“When I return, I will be eager to have you again,” he said with a note of sincerity.

She blushed and nodded. Despite the romantic overtones, she knew it was anything but. He released her chin and looked to Fenris.

“Come, little wolf,” he called. “Captain Samir can only hold the ship so long before the other magisters complain.”

Fenris straightened his back and gave a half-bow to Danarius.

“Your will, master,” he replied.

As he passed by Ariana, they shared a small look. She smiled warmly at him before she blushed and looked to the floor. Her hair was down and obscured part of her face. Her blue eye was hidden behind a golden veil. Fenris suddenly had an overwhelming urge to grab her head and lift it for him to kiss her wildly. Passionately. Not like the pathetic show of affection that Danarius pretended to perform. The thought was only a flash, but the memory from their recent kiss lingered until she cleared her throat to snap him back to reality. He had stopped in his tracks. Fortunately, Danarius hadn’t noticed.

“Be well, mistress,” he murmured so Danarius won’t hear.

“You as well, Fenris,” she whispered.

She looked to see that Danarius was almost to the foyer and quickly reached out to stroke the back of Fenris’ hand with her cool fingers. Her touch was like fire, and he caught her hand in his.

“I will return to you,” he said softly before he dropped her hand. They were pushing their luck.

He turned and hurried out of the house. When Danarius finally looked, he saw Fenris standing behind him as if nothing had happened.

As they loaded into the carriage, Fenris held onto the back pole with his knapsack slung over his shoulder. He wondered what the next few months would bring in this city of “Kirkwall.”

-----

Fenris hated ships.

He hated sailing. He hated the ocean. Even though the oceans around the kingdom tended to be warm, he still hated them.

The boat lurched, and his stomach turned. He grit his teeth and willed himself not to throw up. It was a battle he was slowly losing.

To distract himself from his nausea, Fenris stood on deck and watched the horizon slowly swallow the city. He wondered what Ariana would do while they were gone. Another wave crashed against the side of the boat, and he officially lost the battle between him and the rolling ocean.

Once his stomach was officially emptied over the side rail, he found some potable water to rinse his mouth. Magisters and nobles milled around on deck, sipping from carafes of wine poured by topless slaves. He watched a gaunt older woman pinch the butt of an elven slave, and he leaped in surprise. She laughed loudly and said something that was swallowed up by the sounds of the waves.

“Get down below, slave!” A man’s voice barked from behind Fenris.

He whirled around to see a dwarf with a red beard down to his knees, glaring at Fenris. The man’s uniform marked him as crewman of the ship, and his arms were folded.

“Your master is not here, slave,” the crewman growled. “Get down below. I better not see you up here without him again.”

Fenris sighed through his nose and gave a polite nod. He said nothing more and descended the stairs to the slave’s deck. It was in the ship's bowels, just above the compartments for cargo. Dozens of hammocks were strung throughout the space like canvas-covered spider webs. He climbed into a corner hammock against the farthest wall. It had an old, thin blanket of dubious cleanliness on it that Fenris draped over himself. He stared at the ceiling and counted the minutes until it was mealtime. At least, that was something the ship provided.

Danarius was above him in the posh nobleman's quarters with his mistress, Ceres. They had disappeared the moment the ship set sail and after the captain made his rounds to greet his most prestigious guests.  He had cast a triumphant look to Fenris as the voluptuous blonde had practically ripped his clothes off as she dragged him below deck.

Another strong wave sent his hammock swaying; he shut his eyes to still his stomach. The voyage would take almost two weeks just to get to Kirkwall. It would be two weeks back when they were done, so nearly a month on the high seas.

‘Maybe we’ll be set upon by pirates,’ Fenris thought almost hopefully.

He pulled his knapsack from his arm and rested it on his belly. His armor and weapons were packed with Danarius’ luggage. This was a vessel for transporting magisters, politicians, and ambassadors. The only armed guards were the crewmen. That was fine with Danarius. If anyone attempted to kill him, Fenris could simply rip their heart out with his bare hands.

He thought about the sensation of his brands in action. First, they began to burn. Fenris could feel a spicy warmth run along their length when they glowed. Then, his hand would disappear. It was like that obnoxious tickling that prickles the nerves when your hand is asleep. As his hand passed through ribs, it felt like pushing aside items on a table, firm but inconsequential. Then, the heart. It’s warm in his hand like its own small sun. By then, the person’s heart was thundering in his palm so fast that it practically fluttered and tickled his fingers. Then it’s all over. Either he crushed them or tore it out and tossed it away like so much refuse. Fenris heard that his victims had a specific look so that everyone knew Danarius’s “little wolf” had sent them to the Maker.

Fenris sighed and reached into his knapsack. He had something special to get him through the trip. A small pouch inside his finery sleeves held his most precious treasure. He pulled from the sack a long, black silk scarf. He pressed it against his nose and took a deep breath. It smelled like Ariana—crystal grace and vanilla—and her personal scent quickened his heartbeat.

Orana helped him get this. He felt a rush of affection for the elven woman. She understood his feelings for Ariana but wouldn’t betray his secret. It felt like he had an actual friend now. As his breath warmed the scarf, he reveled in its softness. It reminded him of Ariana’s skin and her soft lips against his rough ones.

He felt ashamed for how hungry he had been for her just a few days ago. It hadn’t been appropriate for a slave, but she had kissed him back. He had felt her melt into his arms, and he could practically feel her desire hum through her body like the lyrium through his.

His breeches started to get uncomfortably tight, and he grunted in irritation. He hadn’t pleasured himself in a long time. Despite his attraction to Ariana, he didn’t feel right taking himself in his hand. However, a dream after the dinner party at Alexius’ manor challenged his resolve.

---------

She wore the black dress from Alexius’ party. The one that hugged her curves and tempted his imagination. Danarius was gone and she called for him to her room. As soon as he arrived, she pulled him in for a fierce kiss. The fireplace bathed the room in a golden glow, and the heat of her gaze rivaled that of the flames. 

His hands grabbed her full backside and pulled her against his hard cock. She gasped in shock at his size; he was much bigger than Danarius, and he flashed a devilish smile. He kissed and nipped the shell of her ear before trailing his lips down until he was lavishing attention on her pulse point.

“F-Fenris!” she gasped, and he could see her nipples were pebbled beneath the satiny material. 

He hummed in delight, reaching up and tweaking one bud until he could scent her arousal, and she was writhing at his touch. As she began to pant and moan with that sinful mouth of hers, he kissed and sucked her throat, wanting to mark her. Wanting to claim her as his. 

Her hands tangled in his white hair, and she pulled him closer, but he was more interested in turning his attention elsewhere. Lower, he trailed until he kissed the tops of her breasts and then used his tongue to outline each hard bud. Just as her breathing sped up, he gently bit down, and she keened loudly.

“Fenris! Please, I need more!” 

“More?” he taunted. “More of what?”

“You,” she gasped. “I need all of you, please.”

Humming almost absently, he stood at his full height, and his hand lovingly caressed the dip of her hip. 

“Think you can handle all of me?” he asked.

Her eyes flicked down to the solid length in his pants, and he delighted in watching her gulp.

“I think it will fit,” she squeaked.

He chuckled darkly, “I won’t stop until it does.”

Suddenly, he grabbed her gown with both hands and tore it straight down the middle. She yelped in shock, but his mouth descended on hers again. She wore no breast band, so his calloused fingers tweaked each nipple until they were somehow harder, and she was whining against his lips. His touch retreated, and just as she thought she’d get a reprieve, his hand was cupping her pussy, and his eyes lit up with delight.

“Ariana,” he said in that husky growl of his. “You’re soaked for me.”

With a single motion, he shredded her small clothes, and before she could protest the loss of her garment, he’d already slipped a finger inside of her. Her back arched, and she moaned loudly.

“So tight,” he mused. “I think it might be a struggle to get in, but with how wet you are, I know I’ll make it fit.”

She began to rock her hips, feeling her essence running down her thighs and his finger caressing her most intimate parts. 

“I think you’re ready for more,” he murmured, and a second finger joined the first. 

Her arms wrapped around him, and she trembled at the sensation. Then he crooked his fingers, and she saw stars.

“Oh, Fenris!” she cried, and her nails raked down his back. 

Without a word of warning, he pulled his fingers out and gently pushed her onto the bed. A cry of surprise left her lips, which turned into a purr of delight when he climbed on top of her. He was naked as well, although he didn’t recall disrobing.

Sitting back, he painted his cock with her juices and used the generous beads of precome that had leaked out. 

“I can’t be patient,” he growled. 

“Take me!” she pleaded and opened her arms for him. 

Slowly, enough to torture them both, he climbed on top and pushed inside. His head swam at the first few inches as her body squeezed him like a vice.

“ Venhedis! ” he gasped.

Before she could ask what he had said, he pulled back and then thrust hard enough to hilt himself entirely. They lay frozen for a moment, basking in the pleasure of being joined. He couldn’t contain himself for long, and soon Fenris was moving. Ariana wrapped her legs around his narrow waist and her arms around his neck, and a litany of cries and praises fell from her lips. 

His thrusts were measured, deliberate, and fierce. The vulgar sound of their bodies coming together was enough to drive him to madness, and soon, he lost his controlled rhythm, falling into the moment of passion. With a loud growl, he began to piston his hips until he was bottoming out with every stroke—a vortex formed in his lower body, something strong that threatened to consume him.

“Fenris!” Ariana panted. “I’m getting close.”

Rearing back, he grabbed her legs and hoisted her knees over his shoulders. He drove into her even harder and grit his teeth as a powerful orgasm built inside of him. Electricity crackled in his limbs, and just as it felt unbearable, Ariana screamed in ecstasy, and he felt her pussy clamp down and milk his thick shaft. It was all he needed before an explosion that sent sparks down every nerve ending, and he felt himself filling her with his seed.

---------

He had woken with a shout thrusting his hips vainly in the air, and felt hot ropes of his cum coating his stomach. He felt frustrated. His cock was still hard and throbbing. He was tempted to storm his way upstairs, throw back her bedcovers, and continue what his dream had begun.

So here he is again. He still lusted for her badly in the depths of a ship on the ocean. His hips flexed as his fingers traced lacy circles on his lower stomach. He felt an intense need to bury himself inside of her hot sheath. If she were here, he wouldn’t know if he could help himself. Her intoxicating perfume against his nose pushed his determination aside.

He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Less than half of the hammocks are full. Most people were asleep except for two, who seemed to enjoy each other’s company on the opposite wall. Once again, his mind flashed to Ariana. He imagined her inside this hammock with him and bouncing on his cock like a desire demon come to life.

Satisfied that he was alone enough for the task, he growled and freed his throbbing erection from its prison. He adjusted the blanket over his lap for some semblance of modesty. Beads of precum glistened on the tip of his cock, and one dripped down his shaft. He took himself in hand and firmly pumped his cock. Slowly, to start with, he imagined what she would feel like right now. He tightened his grip and stroked faster. He shut his eyes and recreated the dream all over again. He continued it until she orgasmed while screaming his name. He imagined watching her tight slit swallow his cock with every thrust.

As he came, he squeezed his eyes shut and saw stars. He moaned her name as he milked every dropout and wished it could be inside of her. When he finished, he mopped up his mess with the corner of the blanket. He hoped they washed this blanket before the next poor sod had to use it, but he very much doubted it. Fenris lay back and snuggled with Ariana’s scarf against his cheek. He fell into a light sleep and could almost convince himself she was beside him.

-----

The city of chains. It was the perfect name for a place used as a haven for slavers despite it “officially” being banned. It stank of the ocean, garbage, and despair. Danarius, his lover Ceres, and Fenris were met by Cere’s house guard, a dwarven man named Rolf. He was a full head shorter than Fenris but wielded an axe the size Caleb had attempted to master. Fenris felt that Rolf was capable of handling a weapon of that size. He didn’t waver with the weight on his back as he turned to lead his mistress onward.

They walked through the town square, appropriately named “The Gallows.” Fenris could imagine the towering wooden structures that held the bodies of runaways and thieves aloft above a cringing crowd lining the perimeter. They passed by a templar with short, curly blonde hair who shouted commands at a platoon performing drills. A mage with strawberry blonde hair held papers in his arms and tried to pass them while he decried the treatment of mages in the circle.

Fenris felt disgust welling inside at the man’s annoying chatter. He hated mages. All mages. He paused at that thought—all but one. The man made eye contact with Fenris and made a beeline to him with arm outstretched to hand over one of his papers. Rolf stepped in between them and barked at the mage to back away from his mistress and her companion. He had a hound's droopy eyes but a mabari's bark. Strangely, Fenris liked him already.

Once they reached the manor, Danarius and Ceres ran up to a bedroom like a pair of horny teenagers. Fenris repressed a sneer, and as soon as the door shut, he turned to look at Rolf. The dwarf’s expression was unreadable as well. They said nothing and simply parted ways.

Fenris found his way to the courtyard. He opted to keep his top on. The air was chillier here than back home, and he had no one to show off to. He needed to release some of his pent-up energy, and he didn’t feel like masturbating this time. Much to his chagrin, it only seemed to enflame his desire after that first night, and he had been doing it almost every day. He drew his sword from its sheath and turned and twisted as he fought off invisible attackers. He hadn’t worked well in weeks and decided to push his body to the limit.

Days stretch to weeks. Kirkwall has plenty of social events for Danarius, although less than Tevinter. Ceres did not have the social standing to be seen with him at every function, though, so some evenings, Danarius left her behind. He only had her accompany him to events held by Tevinter magisters who knew of his unique relationship with Ariana. However, Danarius didn’t care if Ariana found out about his mistress. She was just a means to an end with him in the grand scheme of things.

One late night, Fenris accompanied Danarius to a small gathering of magisters. Apparently, one of them was celebrating the purchase of a new vacation villa and wanted to show it off. According to Danarius, it was not far from Cere’s manor, and although it was smaller, it was warmer and more inviting.

“Magister Erimond recently acquired this property,” Danarius commented to Fenris as a slave took his cloak. Her eyes fell on Fenris, who had no cloak, and his bare arms peeked out between his gauntlets and chest armor. She looked down to the ground and hurried to the back of the house.

“An attractive home, although a bit small for my tastes,” he continued.

Fenris didn’t know why Danarius was telling him all of this. He made an affirmative grunt and nodded to show he’d heard.

Danarius turned to catch his eye and grinned as his eyes fixed on something above Fenris’ head. When he looked away, Fenris turned to see what had entranced him and felt a chill in his chest. Up on the wall was the same Amell crest that Ariana had in her room, although this one was much larger.

“Erimond hasn’t been able to clean house yet. Once his wife arrives next month, I’m sure she’ll strip this place and decorate it in ‘Old Imperium’ style. Most of this will end up in the garbage,” Danarius said airily as they walked into the parlor.  

There were only five magisters here tonight. The hair on the back of Fenris’ neck stood on end. These were Danarius’ closest comrades. They are probably the only people in the empire he might consider “friends.” Fenris stood behind the men as they lounged and spoke of current events. Danarius brought ten bottles of Aggengio parvali, and Fenris dutifully served each glass on his own. There were two other guards in the room. One belonged to Erimond, and the other belonged to a fat magister who kept looking over his shoulder at Fenris. Fenris recognized him as the same magister from Danarius’ wedding party. He continued his obnoxious habit of raising and waving his glass at Fenris the way a person may offer a dog a treat.

Well into the night and about six bottles of wine, the mood changed. Fenris and the other two guards were unceremoniously excused from the room. Danarius glared at Fenris and stated he would expect to see Fenris at Ceres’s manor. Fenris did not need to be told to leave twice, and he quickly exited the room, but not before hearing the men converse quietly in Tevene. He heard Danarius say “Sethius Amladaris,” but the name was meaningless to Fenris.

‘It’s probably the name of some magister they are either going to kill or just assassinate politically, as always,” he thought in exasperation. The machinations of politicians bored him.

Fenris stepped out of the manor into the chilly night air and vaguely wished he had a cloak. He hurried away from Hightown. Being surrounded by nobles, magisters, and merchants always made him feel uncomfortable. He preferred the dregs of society. They were familiar, and with familiarity came comfort.

He walked into “The Hanged Man,” a bar near the docks. It looked dirty and run-down on the outside. When he stepped inside, he realized it was not much better. Inside, you could smell old ale, sweat, and the unmistakable musk of bodies. He was not quite sure what to do at this point. He had no coin to buy anything, so he sat at a table to people-watch.

The most open table had a single red-headed dwarf surrounded by paper, ink, and quills. Fenris made sure not to touch any of the papers and sat with his hands in his lap.

The dwarf looked up to him with a raised eyebrow, but when Fenris said nothing, he looked back to his writings.

The bar was full of people, primarily sailors on shore leave. In the far corner beside the fireplace was a tanned woman sandwiched between a burly man and a lithe redheaded woman. They shamelessly kissed, moaned, and humped each other in front of all the other patrons. The tanned woman slipped her hand behind her and underneath the woman’s skirt, which elicited a surprised cry from the woman.

“Get a room already,” Fenris growled, looking down at the papers on the table. They were filled with endless scrawling. He briefly wondered what it would be like to read them and what they might say.

“That’s not nice, broody,” the dwarf chuckled. “Her room is next to mine, and I would like to be able to sleep tonight.”

Fenris jumped in surprise at the man speaking to him and took stock of the dwarf—tailored clothes of fine craft, golden jewelry, and a very impressive crossbow leaning against his chair.

He blinked a few times before he asked incredulously, “You live here?”

“I like the atmosphere. I get some of my best ideas for stories just people watching. You’d be amazed at the things people reveal in public without realizing, " he said, placing his quill in the appropriate ink pot.

“For example,” he continued with a warm smile. “You haven’t purchased anything. You don’t have a coin purse strapped to your side. You do have an impressive sword on your back, though. Your accent is Tevinter, and may I say those tattoos are spectacular.”

Fenris watched the dwarf intently, waiting for him to finish his analysis.

“So, with all those things combined with being an elf, you’re either a mercenary or a bodyguard.” The man finished with a flourish. “Varric Tethras, writer, merchant, and soothsayer at your service.”

Fenris chuckled, “And how do you know that I am not simply a powerful magister in disguise? Trying to blend in with the common folk?”

Varric smirked, “Broody when has a Tevinter magister ever wanted to blend in? Have you seen those hoods they wear? No one wears a hood with ears if they want to blend in anywhere.”

Fenris couldn’t help but laugh, “Very well, you have me there. My name is Fenris.”

“Fenris, nice to meet you. What brings you to our little slice of heaven this evening,” Varric inquired as he waved over a barmaid and ordered two ales.

“My master has given me the night off, and I wanted to be anywhere but Hightown,” he replied, taking the ale offered.

“Master, huh? So you getting a day off is probably about as rare as a chantry in Orzammar,” Varric said, his tone showing no contempt or pity.

Fenris tensed a bit, waiting for Varric to continue.

“Have you ever played Wicked Grace?” Varric asked with a smile. “I hold a game once a week, and it’ll be starting tonight.”

“I’m afraid I neither know the rules nor have the coin,” Fenris replied carefully.

“We’ve got time, broody!” Varric laughed. “I’ll even spot you a sovereign to play.”

Fenris’ eyes widened at this man’s generosity. It was dampened instantly by wondering about Varric’s ulterior motives.

It turned out there were none.

Varric, Fenris, two dwarves, and a human played Wicked Grace late into the night. It approached two in the morning when the last of Varric’s guests finally left. When it was all done, Fenris had won enough to buy rounds for everyone twice and still had a small pile of sovereigns before him.

“Well done!” Varric exclaimed with a genuine smile, “I don’t think I’ve seen Worthy so pissed off since his rune shipment was lost in the harbor! What do you plan on doing with your winnings?”

Fenris knew he couldn’t walk into the mansion with so much money. Danarius would be furious, demand answers, and just take it anyway.

Fenris smiled at Varric and pushed the pile to him. “Consider this as thanks for teaching me the game. I haven’t had that kind of fun in a long time.”

Varric looked shocked but then laughed and patted Fenris on the back. “Well, I can’t let you leave empty-handed, at least.”

He rummaged through a box in the corner of his little room and pulled out a brand-new book. Its cover was blue and had a dynamic picture of a woman in armor on the front. Fenris noted that it was the same color as Ariana’s eyes.

“It’s not much, but I’m a writer, and these books haven’t sold. I’m having to give them away!” He chuckled. “This ought to help you sleep or at least keep you from going out of your mind with boredom on the voyage home.”

Fenris didn’t want to refuse this man’s generosity. He wasn’t going to confess that he couldn’t read, so he made a mental note to give it to Ariana when he got home. It had an impressive-looking woman on the front, so she might like reading about a strong heroine.

“And! I’ll even throw in a deck of Wicked Grace for the road, too. Teach it to your friends, and if you create an underground gambling ring in Tevinter, maybe send me some of the profits.” Varric said with a wink.

Fenris thanked Varric and headed back to Ceres’s manor. When he entered the slave’s quarters, he found everything quiet. Danarius was still gone. Ceres was asleep, and Rolf was still out. He tucked the book and cards into his knapsack and flopped down onto his bedroll to sleep for a few hours before he must be at Danarius’ side again.

The next several weeks passed the same. Occasionally, he would get a reprieve and go to the Hanged Man for drinks and cards with Varric. He had his fair share of wins and losses, but Varric covered all his drinks and food during those nights. After a nasty losing streak, he calculated that he was in the red, but if that were true, the dwarf never said anything and paid the tab regardless.

Although he initially didn’t mean to, he opened up to Varric about his affection for Ariana. The dwarf was easy to talk to and never indicated he was passing judgment. He merely asked if he could use the ideas in his book “with identities changed to protect the innocent” and occasionally offered advice.

After too many drinks one night, Fenris blurted out that he had a scarf of hers that he enjoyed smelling and imagining she was nearby. He felt suddenly embarrassed, looked to the table, and blushed.

Varric just smiled and continued to shuffle the cards.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke, “So it sounds like she may return some of those feelings.”

Fenris sneered and took another swig from his ale. “And what about my infatuation with her scarf? Does it say anything about her affection towards me?”

“Well, my broody friend, have you ever wondered how Orana got you that scarf?” he asked, dealing out the cards.

Through the haziness, Fenris thought hard about that point. “I just assumed that Orana got it from her drawer and gave it to me.”

“Is Orana the type of lady who would just take something of her mistresses without asking?” Varric asked.

“No, she appreciates Ariana too much to ever steal from her,” Fenris replied slowly, taking three cards.

“Exactly, and I don’t know about you, but my clothes never smell exactly like me from a drawer,” Varric said as he took two cards. “So, if it smells exactly like her, I’d almost put money on her having worn it before giving it to you.”

Fenris’ mind raced at that. He didn’t notice the cards on the board until Varric tapped the table.

“For all you know, Orana kept this after dinner one night, and it just never made it to the laundry!” Fenris retorted.

“That is a possibility. Though maybe the romantic in me wants it to be that she kept it close so that you’ll have a nice memento while you’re away,” Varric said wistfully. “and with that, I win again.”

He placed his hand down, which featured four knights. Fenris realized he only had two drakes and must concede the game.

“Thank you for the game, Varric. You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Fenris said as he stood. “Do I owe anything?”

Varric waved his hands to dismiss the statement. “Consider this a parting gift for your last night in Kirkwall. Maybe someday you’ll come back, and we can play again.”

“Perhaps,” Fenris replied thoughtfully. “My master’s lover lives in this town, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we returned.”

“Mistress, huh?” Varric asked while scratching his chin. “Gotta be careful with those. Sometimes, the mistress isn’t happy playing second fiddle to a wife. Can’t expect they’d be any kinder in Tevinter than anywhere else, so watch out for her.”

Fenris grit his teeth, and rage flashed across his features, “I would not allow a whore like her to hurt Ariana!”

“Well then, regardless of anything else, she is lucky to have you watching out for her,” Varric said with a nod.

They bid their farewells, and Fenris exited the tavern. The cool air was a reprieve from the smell of ale, vomit, and sex. It chilled him and sent goosebumps down his arm. He hadn’t meant to become so enraged. Danarius had assassination attempts occasionally, and he doesn’t bat an eye. The idea of someone trying to kill Ariana, though, set his blood boiling.

The following day, Danarius said goodbye to Ceres. Fenris nodded to Rolf, who simply grunted in response. He realized the man hadn’t said anything to him the entire time they’d spent together.

‘It’s a nice reprieve,’ he thought ruefully.

Ceres remained behind to orchestrate some deals with nearby slavers. Slavery was illegal in this part of the world, but that only made slavers more creative.

Walking onto the deck Danarius claimed he was tired and went below deck to rest. He flashed a predatory grin to Fenris, a silent demand to join. With a pang of frustrated anger, Fenris realized that without Ceres to occupy his time, Danarius would instead enjoy the company of his “little wolf.” He struggled to keep his face passive as they approached the cabin. He hadn’t warmed Danarius’ bed in months since before Ariana got pregnant. His body betrayed him a moment, and he felt his cock twitch at the memory. Fortunately, any lust went away as soon as Danarius ordered Fenris to strip and get on his knees. He didn’t want his master to think he was enthusiastic about the situation.

Internally, he sighed and hoped the ship would get a good wind. The sooner he could get to Tevinter, the sooner he wouldn’t be the sole focus of Danarius’ attention. And the sooner he could see Ariana again. He would ask about that scarf, and his heart hoped what Varric said was true. His mind screamed that it was a dangerous game that he was playing, but he found it easier and easier to push it aside.

Chapter Text

Ariana sighed and looked out her bedroom window to the courtyard below. She hadn’t gone to the garden since it happened. The sounds of children playing and laughing were still too painful. Tears streaked down her face, but she let them fall freely. She was no stranger to mourning, but this last week, without Danarius there, she felt all the grief she’d held in over the previous year spilling out. Orana tiptoed beside her and held out a handkerchief.

“Thank you, Orana,” Ariana whispered and wiped her cheeks.

“Of course, mistress,” Orana replied with a smile. She loved helping.

Ariana sighed. She had been trying to get Orana to call her something other than “mistress” or “my lady,” but she’d made no progress. She got her to slip and say “Lady Ariana” once, which was a small victory.

“Cook has made you mutton for lunch,” Orana said, looking hopeful. “Can I bring you some?”

As if on cue, Ariana’s stomach growled, and she chuckled. After everything, getting her appetite back was a welcome change.

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll go to the dining room this time. I don’t want to be cooped up here forever,” Ariana replied.

She brushed her hair and threw a light robe over her nightgown. Danarius wasn’t around to dictate her clothes and hair. She would dress as she damn well pleased while he was gone.

Orana’s eyes widened at Ariana’s choice of attire, but she said nothing.

As she opened the door, a maid crashed into her. They both fell backward with a loud yelp. Ariana was staring into the brown eyes of a frightened woman. The maid’s eyes widened, and she began to cry.

“Please don’t punish me, mistress! It was an accident!” She wailed as she got on her hands and knees to bow to Ariana. “Please don’t tell the master about this. I beg you!”

Ariana grit her teeth. She hated Danarius. She hated the way his household lived in terror of his mercurial moods. What she hated even more was that so many of her own servants believed she was capable of the same evil.

“It’s quite alright,” Ariana said softly when she could compose herself. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

The woman’s mouth snapped shut, and she stared in wonder at Ariana.

“Y-you won’t?” the maid squeaked.

Ariana put a finger to her lip and nodded her head. The maid sighed in relief and stood up. Orana assisted Ariana in standing, and both women looked at the maid curiously.

“What do you have there?” Ariana asked when she noticed the crumpled letter in the maid’s hand.

“Oh! I have a letter for you, my lady. It came just now,” the maid replied, presenting it to Ariana.

“Interesting,” Ariana hummed as she opened the envelope. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she read the contents.

“It would please me greatly if the Lady Ariana Amell, wife of esteemed magister Danarius, were to attend a tea party I am hosting tomorrow afternoon at three. Please send your response ahead as I am waiting for it.

Signed,

Lady Livia Arida”

Ariana peered over the letter to the two other women, and each one looked as lost as the other.

“I don’t recognize the name,” Ariana said with a shrug.

“Oh! I’ll ask Selvig!” Orana’s hand shot up, and she waved it triumphantly as she spoke. “He knows every noble family for at least four generations. He will have an answer for us.”

“Excellent! The last thing I need is for some random person to assassinate me at a party the moment Danarius leaves,” Ariana said with a laugh.

The two other women stayed eerily silent. Assassinations were common in Tevinter so dismissing the idea so quickly could be a fatal mistake.

“Come on, I’m starving,” Ariana announced, leading the others out of her room.

A heaping platter of food was laid before her when she sat in the dining room. She took a deep breath, and her mouth watered. Mutton shanks with roasted garlic, gravy, and potatoes, a basket of soft rolls, and a carafe of red wine. Ariana sighed and pushed the wine away. She preferred ales and lagers. Selvig appeared in the doorway as she tore off a piece of roll to soak up some gravy.

“Selvig? To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked.

“Mistress, Orana has shown me the letter from Lady Arida. I wanted to know how you know her,” he asked in a carefully measured tone.

He prickled her senses the wrong way. Despite everything, in the end, he was in Danarius’ pocket. She knew she could never fully trust him.

“I met her at a party once,” she replied easily.

Selvig’s face showed no emotion. She didn’t know if her bluff had worked.

“Yes, I seem to recall her maid attended to you an evening you and Master Danarius were at Lord Alexius’ manor,” he said with a slow nod. “She brought you home.”

Ariana’s mind flashed back to the night she spent in Felix and Dorian’s company. After she healed Adrian, they sent her home with Lady Arida’s maid. A portly, elven woman who spent the carriage ride knitting and ensuring Ariana stayed upright.

“She was a lovely woman,” Ariana answered honestly.

She had briefly met Lady Arida when she and Danarius arrived at the party. The hostess was a full head shorter than Ariana, but her long ebony hair was twisted into a high Tevene fashion that brought her to the same height. Her fine, delicate features were accented with minimal makeup, and when Ariana met Felix, she couldn’t believe she was old enough to be his mother.

“So I have heard,” Selvig said.

Ariana could tell he was still suspicious, but he did not press the issue further.

“Master Danarius specifically told me that you were not to leave the manor unless it were an important matter,” he began with a tilt of his head. “However, furthering your social standing among the nobles in his absence would please him greatly. You do know how important his image is to others.”

Selvig finished with almost a threatening tone that Ariana did not appreciate.  The thought of her husband’s controlling nature caused her to shudder subtly.

“I do,” she replied with a nod.

Selvig suddenly seemed to see Ariana, and his eyes widened. Ariana looked down and smirked. He was unnerved that she was still in nightclothes.

Ariana drew herself up to full height, raised her chin to give an air of superiority, and said in a clipped tone, “Send my regards and acceptance of Lady Arida’s request. That will be all Selvig.”

Selvig’s eyes widened, but he fell into his roll and bowed to his mistress.

“Your will, mistress,” he replied and left the room.

Ariana felt quite pleased as she speared a steaming hunk of meat. Without Danarius at home, she felt a bit bolder. She wouldn’t live in fear while he was an ocean away. After finishing her meal, she decided to stroll in the garden. She didn’t want to hide anymore, even if she knew it would hurt.

-----

The next day, after lunch, Ariana dressed in a turquoise dress with gold trim and ruching at the breasts. She slipped on gold leather sandals and flexed her toes. The dress was long enough to cover her feet, fortunately. She hated the heels that Danarius insisted she always wore. She had sent Orana downstairs to check on the preparations and took the opportunity to dress herself. It was liberating and tragically felt like an indulgence. She braided her long hair and pinned it into a bun with pearl-tipped pins.

Ariana stood back from the mirror and studied herself. She was pale but not sickly anymore. She just needed to gain back some of the weight she lost. She grew cold at the memory of the midwife patting her hand, telling her that she shouldn’t worry and that she would bear Danarius many children. The thought sickened Ariana, but she refused to let it crush her. She would find a way out of this or die trying.

Orana arrived with a small package wrapped in plain white fabric. Danarius had a slew of gifts for a variety of occasions. Selvig had easily been convinced to use his connections and select a perfect present for her hostess. It was an Orelesian orange silk purse. According to Selvig, Lady Arida’s favorite color was orange, and she adored Orlesian fashion. Ariana suddenly thought of another present she had recently given.

“Did Fenris appreciate the scarf?” she asked Orana with a playful smile.

“Oh yes, mistress,” Orana replied with a vigorous nod. “He said that it would make his journey ‘much better with a token from her ladyship.’”

Ariana blushed. That horrible night, she remembered Fenris holding her hand and kissing her cheek. She had been so tired she almost missed it. His scent of leather, musk, and the tang of lyrium clung to her thoughts as she drifted into that half-sleeping state. Later, she had asked Orana if Fenris would like something to remember her by the elven woman’s eyes almost bugged out of her head.

“He would very much indeed, mistress!” Orana had exclaimed.

Ariana then hatched the idea of sleeping with one of her favorite scarves and having Orana smuggle it to him before he left. Now, she hoped that he was enjoying it.

Selvig had insisted that Ariana travel with one of the household guards as an attendant. Orana was to stay home, and he was to go to her stead.

Despite the hotter weather, Ariana wore a light cloak over her gown. It was pitch black with a gemmed peacock brooch to hold it together. He seemed pleased when she stood in the foyer for Selvig’s examination.

“You look very fine, mistress,” he said with a smile. “Master Danarius would be pleased.”

“Thank you, Selvig,” she said with a pang of irritation. After almost a year as Danarius’ wife, she was a master at concealing her true feelings.

“This is Mikael, mistress,” he said with a wave to indicate the man coming up the slave’s stairs.

Ariana was surprised to see Mikael was another elf. His long red hair fell behind him in a long braid that cascaded past his shoulders. He was lean but muscular and wore a sword on his back. He looked like Fenris but nowhere near as handsome. His most striking feature was his tattoo. At first blush, it looked like entwined serpents over his left eye, but on closer examination, they were vines. Ariana recognized him as a Dalish elf.

“Hello, Mikael,” Ariana said with a cautious nod.

She had met only one or two Dalish elves who occasionally came into Lothering for supplies. They were not friendly and very prideful of their heritage. She wouldn’t guess they would ever sell one of their own into slavery. What did he have to do for his clan to sell him out that way?

Mikael bowed low before her, and when he stood, she saw a hard glint in his eyes. He wasn’t happy about this charade either.

“Lady Arida is waiting,” Ariana said to break the silence. “Please have a light supper waiting for me when I return at eight.”

Selvig bowed his head and left the mistress to her new guard.

The two stared at each other for a long minute.

“Lead the way, mistress,” Mikael said with a sigh.

—------

When they arrived at the Alexius manor, Althea and the butler were outside to greet her. Ariana gave the lady’s maid the gift and smiled brightly at her.

“I hope Lady Arida is pleased with this,” Ariana said.

Without looking at the gift, Althea replied, “She most assuredly is, Lady Amell.”

The butler motioned for Ariana to proceed but held his hand up to Mikael.

“I’m Lady Amell’s guard!” Mikael snapped. “I am to accompany her at all times.”

“Unfortunately, we recently had an incident with another magister’s entourage. We now no longer permit guards except for those with the family’s close personal friends,” the butler said. “You may wait with the carriage driver.”

Ariana almost felt sorry for Mikael, but simultaneously, she felt relieved not to constantly have a set of eyes on her back. Who knows what he would report to Selvig if it came down to it?

When they entered the manor, Althea made a beeline for a spiral staircase and began to ascend. Ariana paused, wondering if she should follow.

“My lady, please follow me,” the butler requested.

When she entered the sitting room, she was shocked to see Dorian and Felix lounging on settees and eating chocolates. Lady Livia Arida was nowhere to be found.

“Where is Lady Arida?” Ariana asked, looking quite confused.

“Mother is currently upstairs having a spa day,” Felix said, popping another truffle into his mouth.

“Something to do with cheese wheels on the eyes,” Dorian continued with a laugh. “Just you wait. In ten years, we’ll see the Orlesians doing it, too. They always are a step behind Tevene fashions.”

Ariana sat across the table from Dorian and Felix on an overstuffed red velvet sofa. She had no idea what was going on.

“Did she not invite me here?” she said slowly, and her anxiety was rising.

What was going on?

“Oh, of course she did,” Dorian replied. “When we told her we wanted to give you a day of relaxation and fun, she knew this would be the way to hook you out from under Selvig’s nose.”

She was thunderstruck, “You wanted to get me out of the house?”

Both looked solemn and shared a look between them.

“My darling, how are you? You look unwell,” Dorian asked gently.

“I’m as well as can be expected,” she answered carefully. “I’m not sure what you have heard, though.”

He sighed and waved his hand, “The usual Tevinter magisterium gossip. Mostly people speculating on whether Danarius had anything to do with…well the outcome.”

“No, it was not Danarius,” Ariana said suddenly, feeling quite vulnerable. Tears welled up, and she willed herself to stop them before it was too late. She would not cry in front of others.

“Good,” Dorian reached across the table and touched her hand. “Danarius has his hands in a lot of dark things. Blood magic is just the tip of the iceberg. It wouldn’t be right for something to happen to you.”

“You hardly know me, though. Why does it matter what kind of person Danarius is?” Ariana asked as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

Felix smiled and replied, “Because, in the short time you’ve been in Tevinter, you’re already leaving your mark. Even if Danarius keeps you in that mansion to himself, you’ve made a difference.”

Dorian stood, extending his hand to Ariana, “I want to show you something.”

They led her to the staircase they used to get to the slave bedrooms, but this time, they took her down. As she descended, she caught the most delectable smells of sweet confectionaries. Chocolate, caramel, and fried dough. It made her mouth water.

They marched onward, down the stairs, and through a small hallway into a large kitchen. It was larger than the one in Danarius’ manor by a fair margin and cleaved in two. On the right was a set of women cutting up vegetables and trussing a bird. On the other side, a tall elf with auburn hair stood instructing two kitchen boys on what to look for when frying pastry. He gave the pot a wide berth and practically stood on his toes to see what they were doing.

“Adrian! I have a special guest to see you,” Felix called out.

The man whirled around, and when he saw Ariana, his jaw dropped.  He was almost completely healed. The right side of his face had fresh pink scar tissue, and his eye had a patch on it, but otherwise, his face was clean. He folded his hands and approached her.

“Mistress Amell, it is a pleasure to see you again!” he said excitedly.

Overtaken with the joy of seeing him up and healthy, Ariana stepped forward and hugged him tight.

“Adrian, I’m so glad to see you are well! I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it all though. I hope the scars don’t trouble you too much,” she said as they broke apart.

His remaining eye widened, and he stared at her in shock. At that moment, Ariana realized the entire room had gone silent. She looked to see that the other servants had the same look on their faces. When he finally regained his senses, Adrian was able to speak.

“The scars are no trouble, mistress. If it weren’t for you, I would be much worse off. Dorian told me you would be here today, so I wanted to treat you to some of my specialties,” he said softly and motioned for one of the maids to go to the chill box.

She brought out a tray of delectables, that Ariana marveled at the craftsmanship.

“Please sit, my lady,” Adrian said, pulling a chair to the counter.

There were three treats in front of her. One was a fried dough triangle with powdered sugar on top. Her mouth was flooded with cold whipped cream and fresh strawberries as she bit into the dough.

The second was a tiny lemon custard tart with a meringue on top. The combination of fresh tart lemons and the marshmallow-like topping was perfection.

Lastly, a small white cake with a fluffy frosting extended out the sides between two layers. It looked almost like it was wearing a tutu.

“Orlais frilly cakes are a pale comparison to Adrian’s masterpieces,” Dorian said with a wistful sigh. “If I’m not careful, I’ll gain a hundred pounds here this winter alone.”

Ariana finished the desserts and smiled again at Adrian. “Thank you so much, Adrian. They are wonderful, and I’m honored to have been given them.”

Adrian gently grabbed her hand, kissed it, and said, “Any time, my lady. If you ever wish to have another one of these desserts, please don’t hesitate to ask your cook to send me a note.”

She nodded and promised that she would. Now stuffed with decadent desserts, Dorian and Felix led Ariana back upstairs to a lovely garden which was much larger than Danarius’s back home. Ariana noted that there weren’t the sounds of children there. On a table sat three mugs of dark ale.

“Ale? I thought that was the drink of ‘Dog-Lords,’” she laughed as she sat at the table and grabbed a glass.

“I believe that’s a scurrilous rumor the Tevinter/Antivan vineyard consortium spread. Ale is a perfectly palatable drink,” Dorian lifting the mug to his lips.

“That’s not real, is it?” she asked incredulously.

“Of course not,” he laughed dryly. “There’s no way Tevinter would let Antiva in their vineyard consortium.”

She swished the ale around in her mug before taking a long drink. “I haven’t had a good ale in a long time.”

“Well, I’m glad I could provide,” Felix said while lifting his mug. “A toast to your health.”

Ariana blushed, and they all clinked their mugs together.

Dorian took a few long minutes to study her. She squirmed under his gaze and finally asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You don’t even know, do you?” He asked playfully. “Do you know what kind of uproar it will cause that you hugged Adrian? Hugged him! Afterward, you apologized to him for not doing enough to help him. He’s a slave, my dear. No one has probably shown him that concern in his lifetime!”

She fidgeted in her chair and bit her bottom lip. Felix took several long sips from his mug as he watched the two talk.

“Do you know that Adrian’s specialty is with chocolates?” Dorian asked.

She shook her head, “No, why didn’t he make them then?”

He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and those grey eyes pierced into her soul.

“He heard that you didn’t like chocolate. Your cook, Danarius’ cook, told him about how you gave a whole box of Orlesian chocolates to the slaves in your house. She said your favorites are strawberries and lemon. Also, you dislike wine and love ale from a brewery outside Ostagar.”

Her eyes shot down to the mug. She recognized that ale but couldn’t quite place her finger on it till now.

“So, everyone in my house is spying on me and telling my secrets to others?” she asked slowly.

“It's more like most of the people in your house love you, and when they heard that you needed cheering up, they made sure you had a nice escape for a day,” Felix replied.

She thought for several moments before asking, “Was the thing about no guards a lie then?”

“Yes and no,” Felix chuckled and shrugged. “We did have an incident where Lord Tebrin’s guard was caught with his pants down with one of our maids, but in reality, we knew that the only way we could get you off your leash was to keep Danarius’ pet outside.”

“I don’t know how much of Danarius’ pet he could be. I’ve never met the man, and he’s a Dalish!” she exclaimed, taking a long swig of her drink.

“A Dalish?” Felix asked.

He and Dorian looked at each other with concern.

“Dalish slaves are no housecats,” Dorian said. “They don’t tend to last long, and for good reasons.”

“So, do you think I’m in danger?” Ariana asked pointedly.

“I’m not sure. I just wouldn’t turn your back on him for longer than you had to,” Dorian replied.

“Do you know how to defend yourself?” Felix asked quite seriously.

“I know a few spells,” she mumbled. Her cheeks flushed red, and she looked at her sandals.

“Alright,” Dorian said and stood up. He walked from the table down the garden path about ten feet away.

He turned, faced Ariana and Felix, and shouted, “Show me what you know!”

“Is he serious?” Ariana asked Felix.

“About as serious as Dorian can get, really,” he replied, pulling a few potions from his belt. “These will help in case things get out of hand.”

“You carry those all the time?” She asked dryly.

“Never know when you might need them,” he laughed.

She sighed and walked towards Dorian.

“Promise you won’t tease me afterward,” she said as she readied her hands.

With a staff or wand, her magic was easier to focus on, but in a life-or-death situation, one would only sometimes have access to their weapons.

She mustered her energies and sent forth a pathetic snowflake.

“Really? Was that it?” Dorian asked incredulously.

“Yep, that’s it,” she said with a shrug.

“I don’t believe you,” he said with arms folded. He looked irritated.

“Someone who has the power to heal the way you do has the power to do other things. You might not be as good at it, but your potential is still there,” he snapped. “If you want the best chance at surviving this place, you’ll need to channel that energy and try .”

“I-I don’t know how,” she whispered. “My sister could always do the offensive magic. I just did the defense.”

“Well, your sister isn’t here now,” he said, not knowing how deep the words cut. “You’re here, and you’re alone. If it comes down to it, you must be able to save yourself.”

Ariana ignored the tears that were flowing across her cheeks. She hadn’t been able to stop them this time. Dorian was right. She couldn’t hide anymore. Bethany and Carter were gone. She was alone.

She exhaled slowly and raised her hands again. Channeling magic this way felt unfamiliar and even a little backward, like putting a shoe on the wrong foot. However, Dorian was right. She would have to learn to do this or be killed someday.

“Here goes,” she muttered and felt herself pulling on the veil. It shifted around her hands, and she felt the cold before she saw it. As she raised her hands a spike of ice flew from her fingers and narrowly avoided Dorian’s shoulder.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She called out and put her hands over her mouth. The air was still cold on her palms.

Dorian laughed and shook his head, “You’re improving already! Look, Felix, I could be a teacher!”

“Maker, help those students,” Felix shouted. “Half the time, you’d forget about them, and the other half, you’d give them all the answers so you don’t have to grade anything.”

“Ah, he knows me so well,” Dorian said airily. “Now, let’s practice a few more times.”

Ariana hadn’t spent so much time practicing magic since she was a child. In a few short hours, Felix and Dorian said that she had made improvements. Felix also said he would arrange for his mother to create a standing ‘tea party date’ every Friday so she could get out of the house regularly.

The sun was setting, and Ariana gave both men huge hugs.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed this.”

“We know,” Felix replied with a smile.

“We’ll work on your fire spells next time,” Dorian said as they broke apart. “I will bring some books for you to go over. They are a bit rudimentary, but it’s a start.”

As Ariana left, she was intercepted by Lady Livia Arida, who guided her to her carriage.

“Felix tells me you are Danarius’s wife,” she murmured with a large smile so no one would be suspicious of their relationship.

“Felix speaks the truth,” Ariana responded quietly.

“Then I am that much happier to help,” Lady Arida said, kissing Ariana on each cheek and adding loudly. “I will see you next week, darling!”

“Thank you, Lady Arida!” Ariana said with genuine joy.

Mikael said nothing and refused to look at Ariana as the carriage pulled away. She suddenly longed for the strong elf with whom she had come to feel so comfortable. At first, Fenris terrified her, no thanks to Danarius, but now she missed him terribly.

During their first night together, Danarius had whispered into her ear. “If I were to order him to lay with you right now, he will. If I were to order him to kill you when I’ve had my fill, he will. You belong to me now, and if you ever doubt that, remember you live in a world where no one will stop to help you unless I say so.”

Afterward, she became used to Fenris as a guardian. She had caught glimpses of his genuine self underneath the stoic guardian, and when he was around, she felt as though she were truly safe. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered Fenris’s look when she gave him the chocolate-covered strawberry. His teeth were so close they almost nipped her fingers, but the look of bliss on his face was precious. He moaned as he savored the sweet treat. Ariana felt a slight stirring in her belly at that memory. His eyes had been rolled back, and it looked almost as though the taste literally pleasured him. She wondered what other delights she could feed him to get the same visceral reaction. The idea of him moaning and looking so deliriously happy was thrilling.

A loud knock on the carriage door startled her from her fantasies, and an irritated Mikael wrenched the door open.

“We’re home, mistress,” he said in exasperation.

She studied him carefully. Selvig was going to demand answers from this poor man, and if she didn’t give him any, then he would be beaten or even killed. She didn’t want to be the cause of some poor man’s death, even if it was a stranger.

“I had a lovely time,” she said slowly and clearly. “Lady Arida and I had a spa day. Her lady’s maid cared for us, and you were in the kitchen most of the day. She and I were having tea in the gardens when you saw me next. The begonias were in bloom. We spoke nothing of our husbands, and she comforted me for my recent loss. That’s all.”

He blinked in surprise, but then a realization dawned on him, and he gave a slight nod as he moved aside for her to exit. Selvig and Orana seemed to magically appear at the door when her foot hit the pavement.

“Mistress!” Orana called out happily.

Selvig gave Orana a withering look, which she shrunk under. Ariana clicked her tongue in irritation. Mikael fell in step behind her, and they approached the small welcoming committee.

“I hope you had a pleasant time,” Selvig said in measured tones.

“It was quite delightful, yes,” Ariana replied, her head held high.

“And was Mikael satisfactory?” he asked with a glance at the elf behind her.

She could feel the tension radiating from the man behind her. He had failed in his duty. He was to watch her the entire time, but he had been relegated to the stables and slaves’ hall with the driver.

“He was, in fact,” she replied without batting an eye. “I felt almost as safe as if I were home with him at my side.”

She couldn’t see Mikael’s face and hoped he could at least muster a decent poker face when needed.”

"I’m glad to hear that,” Selvig stated slowly. “I will be sure to relay your compliments to the broker.”

“Indeed,” Ariana said with a smile. “I will take my meal in my room now. I’m tired from the day, and I wish to rest.”

Selvig nodded, and she swept past him to Orana. The two women entered the house together.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Selvig wheeled around to Mikael and snarled, “You’d better tell me everything you know about the mistress’ visit if you know what’s good for you!”

Mikael shrugged and replied, “She had a spa day with Lady Arida in her chambers, so I was in the kitchens then. When they had tea in the garden, they spoke of the mistress’ recent loss and about the flowers in bloom in their gardens. It was a rather boring day.”

Selvig stood back and examined Mikael’s face for duplicity, but the Dalish seemed to be telling the truth.

 “Very well,” Selvig said. “You’ll be her assigned guard from now on. That is the deal that the broker struck, is it not?”

Mikael’s eyes narrowed slightly, “Yes, I will perform the duties of my contract as stated. I am to guard the mistress of this house until death, the expiration of the contract, or my discharge of duties.”

Selvig nodded in acknowledgment and responded, “Good, now get to the kitchen and eat something before you have to turn in.”

He left Mikael standing by the carriage and disappeared into the house. Mikael stood looking up at the grand manor. This was an unexpected turn. Ceres was going to expect a completed contract by the time she returned from Kirkwall, or, as she promised, she would sell him as a slave to what she deemed were people “more evil than you could imagine.” He folded his arms and sighed. This was going to be a tough job.

He went to the kitchen to get a meal and prayed that things would be more straightforward in the morning.

Chapter Text

Fenris ached.

He had been the sole source of Danarius’ entertainment for almost two weeks, except for the few times Danarius attended ship-catered events for the elite. A fresh bite mark stung his neck. Danarius had been particularly vicious on his last night aboard ship.

“I need to get this out of my system before I lay with Ariana again,” he had whispered. “I don’t want to overwhelm the poor girl.”

Fenris chose not to answer and just took the abuse as he was trained.

As the carriage pulled away from the dock, he felt a flutter in his chest. He hadn’t seen Ariana in months and was eager to see her again. He counted the minutes as they agonizingly slowly ambled toward home through the crowded docks and marketplace.

-----

Ariana and Selvig were at the door of the manor to greet them. To his surprise, she looked more vibrant and alive than he had ever seen, even as far back as the wedding. She smiled warmly at Danarius and came down the steps to meet him.

“I hope your travels were refreshing, husband,” she said as she stopped in front of him.

Danarius also seemed taken aback. She stood with her back straighter and head higher but did not have the air of defiance.

“They were indeed, my dear,” he replied. “I hope my instructions were obeyed to the letter.”

“Lady Livia Arida has taken the mistress under her wing,” Selvig said as he approached the small party. “Lady Amell has gone to her house for tea almost weekly.”

Danarius’ eyes narrowed.

“With your approval?” he asked Selvig, his tone dropping low.

“Yes, master,” he replied with a nod. “Since then, the mistress has received numerous invitations to social gatherings. Even the Archon’s house sent an invitation to attend his birthday ball. Of course, we politely declined everything. We knew you wouldn’t want her to attend formal events without your presence.”

“A ball at the Archon’s palace?” Danarius mused. He no longer looked angry. He stared hard at Ariana, but she did not wilt under his gaze.

“It’s tomorrow evening, but I chose to leave that decision to you, husband,” she said with a bow.

“Well, we shall certainly accept!” Danarius responded with a satisfied clap. “Selvig, respond at once and send for the tailor. Ariana will need a new dress for the occasion.”

Ariana stepped aside for Danarius to pass her into the house. He and Selvig were too engrossed in the planning for the party to see that she did not follow. When her eyes landed on Fenris, she frowned.

“Are you alright?” she whispered.

“I am now,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve missed you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she replied softly, “I’ve missed you too… I hope you enjoyed the scarf.”

He felt a rush of surprise. So, she was the one behind giving it to him.

“I did, mistress,” he said.

She frowned, and he saw a look of frustration on her face.

“Ariana,” she said a bit louder than he expected.

“Ariana,” he repeated slowly.

“Call me by my name when we’re alone,” she said with her hands on her hips. “I’m tired of being your mistress.”

Before Fenris could respond, a silken voice called from the doorway said, “Mistress, the master wishes your presence in the library.”

Fenris looked up to see a redheaded elf at the top of the stairs. The two locked eyes, and the other elf grinned.

Ariana cast Fenris one last smile and hurried back into the house.

“Who are you?” Fenris asked with a raised brow.

“My name is Mikael,” the redhead said with a slight bow. “I am the guard to our mistress.”

Fenris bristled at the notion, but given that Ariana was still alive, the man must not be terrible at his job.

“I am Fenris,” he said cautiously. “I guard the master.”

Mikael nodded, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something about the man unnerved Fenris, and he folded his arms.

“Believe all of it,” he snapped, walking past Mikael into the house.

Mikael turned to watch Fenris disappear beyond the threshold, and he exhaled the breath he had been holding.

This was a complication.  

----

The tailor arrived within the hour with bolts of fabric for Danarius to examine.

“Lady Arida sent a letter this morning,” Ariana said while handing it over to Danarius.

He read its contents and frowned.

“She’s telling you what she will be wearing,” Danarius said flatly.

“Yes, last time we spoke, she recommended I wear a dress like hers. She will be in a powder blue Orlesian gown,” Ariana replied.

He cocked his head and scrutinized his wife, “A dark blue gown in Tevene fashion would accent you well and provide a good contrast to Lady Arida.”

He nodded to the tailor, “Make it so. I want the Archon to be impressed by my Ferelden wife, and that will take a lot of work.”

If the comment phased Ariana, she didn’t show it; she merely nodded in acceptance. As she followed the tailor up to the third floor, Fenris caught a triumphant smile on her face. He wondered what was going on.

“Little wolf, this is a surprising turn of events,” Danarius said as he turned the invitation over. “Even I must admit I didn’t think Ariana would amount to anything in our society.”

He stayed silent, but this time, Danarius wasn’t satisfied. He glared daggers at Fenris until the elf had to speak.

“Your teachings have gone over well,” Fenris said finally.

Despite the bald-faced lie, it seemed to satisfy Danarius.

“Indeed,” he replied and tossed the letter aside with a sigh.

After several moments, Danarius waved his hand in dismissal and said, “Go. I will see you at dinner and find some potions for Maker’s sake. If you’re going to accompany me to the Archon’s palace, you shouldn’t look like a rumpled whore.”

Fenris grit his teeth and felt the rage rising inside of him. Before he could say or do anything he would regret, he turned on his heel and sped out of the room. He decided to burn off some steam and took his weapons to the training area.

He was not alone.

When he reached the dummies, he saw Mikael skewering one with his dagger before slipping behind and slicing the throat with his second blade. The straw-filled head lolled precariously to the side before crashing down entirely. It bounced and rolled until it stopped at Fenris’ feet. He looked down to see the black “X” eyes peering up at him.

Mikael fought without a shirt, and Fenris saw that the small tattoo over his eye was not the only one he possessed. His shoulders had long columns of vines running past the band of his pants.

“I’ve never seen a Dalish slave,” Fenris observed, causing Mikael to flinch.

“I am not a slave,” Mikael hissed. “I’m simply fulfilling a contract between the master and the broker.”

Fenris laughed dryly, “Your life is in Danarius’ hands. He could kill you at will. You are a slave whether you care to admit it or not.”

Mikael’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Fenris was impressed that the man was at least controlled enough not to lash out.

“Care to spar?” Fenris asked and drew his sword. “First blood loses.”

Mikael’s eyes widened, but after a moment, he nodded. He didn’t want to back down from a challenge.

Fenris stripped his armor off to stand in a linen tunic and leather breeches as he raised his sword. Both combatants stood still for a moment, waiting for the other man to move. Fenris was testing Mikael’s patience.

He didn’t have to wait long.

After half a minute, Mikael grew frustrated and lunged towards him. Fenris easily deflected the incoming strike and parried into a counter. Mikael dropped back, feinted to the right, and stabbed upwards at Fenris’ side. He twisted and felt the breeze from the dagger tip as it almost grazed his ribs. Mikael smirked and turned his second dagger in his hand, slashing wildly. He was so close! Fenris had already moved, though, and in the second it took Mikael to realize his opponent was gone, Fenris’ sword cut a clean line across his right shoulder, cleaving the vines in half.

Mikael hissed in pain and leapt away from Fenris.

“You’re fast,” he snarled.

“And you’re cocky,” Fenris sneered and sheathed his blade. “The last guard who got cocky was killed. I recommend you reign it in before you get yourself, or the mistress, hurt.”

Mikael bared his teeth in anger and snarled. He reminded Fenris of a wild dog that got loose in the marketplace. The beast had been half-starved and crazed with a disease. Its rampage ended with two wounded, a dead city guard, and the dog skewered in the middle of a candy shop.

“Go get yourself patched up,” Fenris said as he donned his armor.

Mikael didn’t move from his place.

Mikael’s eyes were fixed on a point behind Fenris, and his face broke into a strange smile.

“No need,” he murmured.

“What’s going on?” Ariana called from the archway that led into the house.

“We’re just training, mistress,” Mikael answered evenly.

“I see that.”

She stepped past Fenris to Mikael, whose shoulder was now bleeding openly. With a hum of irritation, she reached out, and green tendrils snaked from her fingers to caress Mikael’s damaged flesh, and his eyes fluttered shut. Fenris knew what he felt then, and he couldn’t stop a small pang of jealousy at the sight.

It was over instantly; only the dried bloody outline and a paper-thin scar remained.

“Thank you, my lady,” Mikael practically purred at her.

“Anytime, Mikael,” she said with a smile.

He gathered his shirt and made excuses to her as he dashed to the staircase leading down to the kitchens. All at once, Fenris and Ariana were alone in the garden.

“Did you have to injure him?” she asked pointedly with a small frown.

“It was a training exercise,” Fenris replied with a shrug.

“Uh-huh,” she sighed, entirely unconvinced.

After a few moments of silence, Ariana cleared her throat and asked, “I need to go up to the third floor… I left something in the tailor’s alcove. Will you accompany me?”

“Your will, mistress,” he answered with a formal bow. Her cheeks flushed, and his heart skipped a beat.

They used the slave’s staircase, which was relatively narrow, so they had to go up in single file. Fenris wasn’t about to complain, though. He had a lovely view of Ariana’s ass, and he almost crashed into it as she came to a stop at the second-floor landing before he noticed.

“Are you ok?” she asked quietly and turned to face him. She lifted her hands, and he felt the delicate tips of her fingers caressing his face. One dropped to the bite mark on his neck, and he grunted from pain.

“He’s a monster,” she whispered so quietly that Fenris almost missed it. He let the words hang in the air. She didn’t need his confirmation.

“Where else?” she inquired, and he could already feel her healing magic pouring into his brands. He turned, and she saw the nail marks of various healing stages on his back. There was a dagger cut on his left ribs, and when he pulled up his top, her expression darkened. Danarius rarely used blades unless he was using blood magic in bed. Danarius had only done it three times on her, but each one was burned into her memory.

Her magic found each hurt, and like lights turned off one by one, he felt when each disappeared.

“Thank you…Ariana,” he said softly and took a small step forward.

She stood on her toes, and in her attempt to place another kiss on his cheek, she slipped on the stairs. Fenris’ brands flashed in the darkness, his hands shot out, and he stopped her from falling. They were both frozen as he held her with her lips against his throat. Unconsciously, he pressed against her. He wanted her lips to move. Against his skin, her lips curved in a mischievous grin. She trailed her small kisses along his pulse point.

“You like this?” she murmured, giving him a tiny lick.

“Ariana!” he gasped. “We should -”

The words died on his tongue as she placed a hot kiss on his throat. He was becoming painfully hard as she alternated between soft kisses and licks. Despite being so light, the sensations outstripped his fantasy by leaps and bounds. Ariana’s hands came up and rested on his chest, and her fingers massaged him through the leather armor.

“Fenris,” she purred and kissed his jawline. “I’ve missed you.”

He growled in response and felt himself losing control again. He captured her lips again in a searing kiss, and his hands snaked up and grasped the firm globes of her breasts.

It was her turn to gasp, and he felt her nipples harden beneath his fingers.

“This is what I thought of every night when I slept with your scarf,” he whispered. Ariana whimpered in pleasure as he tweaked her swollen buds.

“Every night?” she gasped.

“Every. Night.” He said, punctuating each word with a kiss.

Before he could say anything more, the door from the third floor slammed, and footsteps thundered towards them.

“Go!” Ariana whispered and shoved Fenris out of the closest door. The bright light blinded him for a moment, but when he got his bearings, he found himself by Ariana's room at the end of the hallway. The sound grew closer, and he stood as silent as could be. When the door finally opened, a frazzled-looking Orana practically fell onto the floor. Ariana was already gone.

“Maker’s breath!” she sighed as the package she had been carrying slipped from her fingers.

Fenris sighed in relief and helped her pick up the package, which had opened in the chaos. It was a silk-lined box that held a sapphire necklace. The large stone, surrounded by diamonds, hung from a silver chain.

“A gift from the master?” he asked, feeling disquieted.

There was no way Fenris could ever provide her a gift nearly as lovely as this one.

Orana shrugged.

“The mistress forgot it upstairs with the tailor. Unfortunately, I can’t find her now to give it back,” she said with a frown.

Fenris internally relaxed. She hadn’t seen him and Ariana together. Although she understood their attraction, he didn’t want anyone to know how far they were going.

Soft footsteps approached them, and he turned to see Ariana coming around the corner.

“Orana, have you seen – oh!” Ariana gasped in delight when she saw the item in Fenris’ hands. “I thought I had lost it!”

“No, mistress, the tailor summoned me when he saw that you left it behind. No need to worry,” Orana chirped.

“Excellent. Lady Arida sent this ahead of time from her collection. I would feel horrible to have lost it,” Ariana said with a relieved sigh.

She took the box from Fenris’ hands and gave him a small smile before dropping her eyes to the necklace.

“Come on, Orana,” she said and began to walk towards her room. “I need to get ready for dinner with the master.”

She paused in her step and almost imperceptibly shuddered. Fenris knew that she was mentally preparing herself for the following event.

As the women left down the hallway, Fenris took his leave. He didn’t notice a pair of amber eyes watching him from the shadows as he descended the stairs and headed towards the armory to put away his weapons.

------

Mikael was left home the night of the party. Danarius had received word that despite his own standing with the Archon, he was only afforded one guard for the night. If it bothered Danarius, he did not show it. Mikael had nothing to wear anyway.

When Fenris arrived in the foyer, dressed in his finest, he saw Orana hurriedly putting the last touches on Ariana’s hair. It was in the Tevene fashion of several braids entwined and wrapped around the head like a crown. Danarius supervised and critiqued the style until Orana looked like she might cry from frustration. Finally, he was satisfied with her work, and the last touch was implemented—a pair of diamond hair ornaments that looked like laurel leaves hooked into the braids.

Ariana nodded to dismiss Orana, and the woman hurried away and past Fenris. He saw that tears streaked down her cheeks but said nothing. Danarius would enjoy knowing he made her cry, and there was no reason to give him that pleasure.

Selvig and Mikael flanked the doorway as the party passed. Mikael’s eyes were trained on Ariana, and he had a strange, hungry look. Fenris made a mental note of it. He hadn’t been able to get the man alone since their training encounter, but he would have to redouble his efforts. 

The carriage ride took forever. The Archon’s palace was in the middle of the city in the best noble district, and the upper echelons were out in force to get there. When the Archon had just been elected, Danarius had only been invited once before. That was a few years ago; he hadn’t returned since. Fenris’ memories didn’t go that far back, though, so he did not know why.

When the carriage finally pulled to the manor, Fenris was in awe. The building towered five stories above them. The front featured chiseled marble columns and statues of dragons, and a vast fountain cleaved the curved stairs in two. A trio of elven women carved from stone held a basket from which water flowed into a pool filled with dark green lily pads.

A red velvet carpet was laid out for the guests to enter the palace. Fenris took his place a half step behind and in the middle of the “happy” couple. They had to wait in line as a butler announced each person and their long list of titles. Once beyond the door, they were led to the ballroom, which was jam-packed with nobles and upper-class merchants. Fenris suddenly panicked that Ceres might be in attendance but pushed it out of his mind. There was no way that she would be high enough standing to get an invitation.

Lady Arida was by the central punch bowl with Dorian and Felix in tow. She stood on her toes and waved enthusiastically when she saw Ariana.

“My dear, you look radiant,” she gushed, giving Ariana air kisses on each cheek.

Lady Arida wore a light blue gown with a steel boning corset and a huge skirt that billowed from her hips. The multiple layers held her dress in a perfect bell shape, taking up several feet in each direction. An aquamarine necklace, which matched Ariana’s, dangled from her throat.

In contrast, Ariana wore a modern Tevene fashion that was all about sharp angles: puffy square shoulders, stiff sheath, and angular neckline. It completely contrasted Lady Arida's outfit, and she wore it well.

“Danarius, thank you for letting me enjoy your wife’s company during your absence,” Lady Arida said as she addressed Danarius. “Our tea parties were the highlight of my week.”

“Indeed?” Danarius responded with a saccharine smile. He glanced back and forth between the two women. If there was any deception in them, he could not sense it. “Now that I have returned, though, I hope you’ll understand that I intend to enjoy her company myself. She won’t be coming over weekly anymore.”

Fenris watched Ariana as Danarius spoke and saw the sadness in her eyes at those words. Just as quickly, though, it disappeared behind a mask of calm complacency. She had mastered a few things while he had been away.

“Of course,” said Lady Arida with a knowing nod. “I’ll let the others know Ariana will not be able to come out so often.”

“Others?” Danarius inquired.

Dorian approached the group with crystal cups filled with a spicy punch. He handed one to Danarius and gave him a brilliant grin.

“Your wife is a bit of a debutante now,” he said quickly as he sipped his drink. “Others are curious to know what fascinating person Lady Arida hosts weekly. Even my mother has made inquiries to co-host salons with Lady Amell.”

“Interesting,” Danarius said thoughtfully. “This is something to be discussed with my charming wife in a more private setting… don’t make any rash announcements just yet.”

The clock struck eight, and the band began playing a soft waltz. Lady Arida went to find her husband, Felix, and Dorian went in another direction, leaving Fenris, Ariana, and Danarius together.

“I never learned if you could dance,” Danarius said bluntly to Ariana.

She blinked in surprise, “I can do classical dances, and Lady Arida taught me a few Tevene ones just in case you consented to us coming here tonight.”

“I see,” Danarius said. “A woman of great foresight, it seems.”

“She has been a wonderful teacher,” Ariana said, sounding quite sincere.

His hand shot out, and he grasped her upper arm. On the outside, it looked as though Danarius was affectionately holding his wife close, but Fenris saw how his fingers dug into her. The sleeves hid well in places that would bruise later. Ariana suppressed a wince but didn’t make to grab his hand. She remained serene. He leaned towards her ear and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, “Your relationship with her is at my convenience. Do anything that displeases me, and I’ll keep you locked up in the house, birthing me children until the day you die.”

He placed another kiss on her lips, and like a dutiful wife, she reciprocated the charade of affection.

Fenris watched on. He hadn’t heard what Danarius had said, but when he caught Ariana’s gaze, he saw that her eyes were full of an emotion he couldn’t place. It wasn’t fear, anger, or joy. When Danarius led her to the dance floor so they could perform a modern Tevene waltz, the realization hit him. He had seen her with that same look in the garden the night she was crying so many months ago. The night before, she announced that she was pregnant. It was a look of determination, and Fenris wondered what decision she had made this time.

-----

When the Archon arrived, Lady Arida and her husband Alexius seemed to materialize at Ariana’s side and made a show of introducing the Ferelden woman to the most powerful man in the magisterium. The Archon simply nodded to Ariana before leaving to meet other more important people, but to Danarius, it was enough to consider the ball a success.

When they left for home, Danarius had a triumphant look. He had drank more than his fair share of spicy punch, wine, and even a unique whiskey Alexius had brought to toast the Archon’s good health. Fenris had to brace him to stand upright as they walked to the carriage, and Ariana looked quite exasperated in tow.

When they arrived home, Danarius was asleep in the carriage. Fenris and a hall boy practically carried him to his room and only woke him enough to disarm the wards in his room. Fenris was disgusted but internally grateful that, for once, Danarius would have no one in his bed for the night. He didn’t bother stripping Danarius of his clothes and simply pulled his shoes off before unceremoniously tucking him in.

When he returned to the hallway, he saw that Ariana’s door was shut tight, and a small sliver of light peeked out from underneath. He felt a pang of longing that he couldn’t give her one last goodnight, but the hour was very late, and her mind had seemed far away since Danarius had spoken to her. Fenris dropped his fine clothes off at the laundry and went to his room dressed only in his linen undergarment.

As he flopped onto his bedroll, a familiar scent filled his senses. He tentatively reached under his pillow and found a soft white handkerchief with vibrant crystal grace flowers embroidered on the edges. She had kept her word. Fenris fell into a pleasant sleep, inhaling her scent and feeling secure that he would not be summoned by the master for several hours yet.

A figure pressed themselves against the dark wood on the other side of his door, listening for sounds inside. Content that Fenris was asleep, Mikael moved as silently as a wraith down the hallway and through the kitchen. The house was at rest, and no one was around to see his excursion into the city.

He made his way to the seedier side of town, holding his daggers close and keeping his guard up as he passed by whores, cutpurses, and vagrants. When he reached the dingy hotel, he looked both ways to ensure he hadn’t been followed. Inside, the Golden Hare was heavily scented with cheap perfume to mask the musk of human bodies. Judging by the sounds coming from nearby rooms, this place was not meant for sleeping.

“’ The Maiden’s room,’” he said the code when he approached the proprietress.

She was a heavy-set woman with silver hair wound up into a bun. Bright pink lipstick coated her thin lips, which parted to reveal stained brown teeth. She spat a wad of tobacco into a porcelain spittoon and chuckled at Mikael.

“Right, ‘Your fair bride’s awaiting your kiss, good sir,’” she said as she wiped a trail of amber drool from her chin.

“Second floor, gold door on the right,” she continued with a dismissive wave. A chipped turquoise ring gleamed in the lamplight.

He nodded and clenched his teeth in frustration. He hated these little games she played.

“’My lady, I have come for your honor,’” he said in a bored tone as he pushed the door open.

A girlish voice giggled from the bed, and Ceres rose with a cheeky grin. She hadn’t bothered with clothes and stood before him naked as the day she was born.

“When I saw Danarius drinking so much tonight, I knew you’d be able to get out of that dingy old house,” she said with a laugh. “I’m just glad that white-haired freak didn’t stop you.”

“He’s certainly going to prove an obstacle,” Mikael replied with folded arms.

Ceres’ eyes flashed with rage, and her beautiful features became a scowl.

“If you had just completed your mission by now, you wouldn’t have to deal with him!” she hissed.

“I told you that it has been impossible to get close to that woman,” he snapped. His anger was rising to match hers. “If her maid isn’t getting in my way, it’s the damned butler. I’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with her since you put me in that house.”

“You know what happens if you fail me,” Ceres whispered coldly.

Mikael took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He knew the stakes at hand. He would have to reign it in right now or risk ruining all the hard work he had already done.

“Come, Mikael,” Ceres purred and walked forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

He inhaled deeply, and his skin flushed with a sudden rush of heat. She always wore special scents to entice those around her. He hated that he was as susceptible to it as any man.

Ceres pressed her breasts into his chest, and he felt her nipples brushing against him. He was getting hard quickly, and he didn’t know if he wanted to stop this. He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. Her hands lifted and massaged his ears, which caused a sudden moan to escape. She chuckled and gently kissed his jawline.

“Elves are so predictable,” she said, tugging on his earlobes.

He sucked in a breath, and his hands grasped her firm ass to pull her body against him completely. Her hand reached between them and grasped his swollen length.

“She is beautiful,” Ceres mused as she slowly stroked him.

“Yes, she is,” Mikael admitted and slowly thrust into her hand. He was still clothed, but it was only two layers, and they wouldn’t last long at this rate.

“I watched her dancing tonight with him. They were all wrong together,” she murmured and kissed him. “She needs someone who will be gentle with her and make her feel like a real woman.”

“I can do that,” Mikael answered with a vigorous nod. “I can give her that.”

Ceres opened her mouth, and their tongues danced together. Her fingers unlaced his breeches, and as they fell, his aching cock sprang from its confines.

“I bet she will feel amazing underneath you,” Ceres said as she rubbed the palm of her hand over the tip of his cock. Thick beads of precum glistened and lubed his shaft as her hand moved. “The way she danced, I know she’ll give this cock so much pleasure as you fuck her.”

Mikael grunted in acknowledgment, and his rough hands grasped her large breasts. “Too bad these are smaller on her,” he said with a smile.

Ceres hummed and giggled again, “I’m sure she makes up for it in other ways.”

She dropped to her knees and looked up to Mikael through long lashes.

“Her mouth, perhaps,” she whispered before taking his entire length into her mouth and throat.

He shouted in surprise and watched in fascination as she expertly began to move her head. He thrust in rhythm to her bobbing, and she was unfazed even as he picked up the pace. It seemed that she had no gag reflex.

Mikael was getting closer to the edge and saw stars behind his eyes. The obscene sound of her sucking and his heavy breathing was all that he could hear, and it drove him wild.

Suddenly, she shoved him away from her. He stumbled backward and slammed into the door.

“What the fuck?!” he roared as his cock throbbed painfully. He had been so close!

“If you want to cum then do it in that Ferelden bitch at home,” she hissed. “You’re going to get into that woman’s bed one way or another, or you’ll never see your clan again.”

She went to a small table and picked up a small, gilded vial.

“Take this,” she said and walked towards him.

He glared at her, pulled his pants up, and wrestled his dying erection back inside.

“What is it?” he snapped and snatched it from her as though she were a snake that might bite him.

“It’s a special concoction, much like the ones I use,” she said softly with a devious smile. “Wear it around her, a drop at a time, and she’ll slowly begin to desire you. One day, when she’s alone, wear three drops, and she’ll ride you like a lust demon in heat.”

In his aroused state, Mikael thought that sounded like the best idea ever. He was driven by desire and desperation and would do anything to make it happen.

As he went from the hotel back to the house, his mind raced about how he would make it work. He didn’t stop to think about the vicious husband or the stalwart guard that protected Ariana. All he could think of was how he needed to do anything to keep his clan safe and how badly he needed an orgasm right now.

He didn’t realize that, without a second thought, Ceres had given him a death sentence if he succeeded in his task.

As she watched the elf race away from the poor districts, Ceres fell back on the bed and cackled in delight. She was once a step closer to having Danarius all to herself.

Chapter Text

The following day, Fenris woke to the sound of giggling down the hallway. He sat up and groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes. Judging by the light from the window, it was past eight in the morning. He had slept in for once. Since no one had come to wake him, he assumed that Danarius was still passed out upstairs or otherwise indisposed. After dressing, he gently folded and tucked the handkerchief under his bedroll. He didn’t want anything to happen to it, but there were only so many places he could hide it.

The smell of toast and cooking eggs drew him to the kitchen, where the laughter became much louder. When he arrived, a strange sight greeted him. Mikael sat at the center of the table, and a trio of housemaids was practically on each other, each trying to be the closest one to him. Even Meredith, who would typically shoo the women away, stood behind Mikael with a bowl of porridge.

“Do you have enough to eat?” she asked wistfully.

“I’ve enough for ten men,” he chuckled, pushing his plate away.

It was still piled high with eggs and even a few strips of precious bacon. Fenris sneered in irritation. Why was Mikael getting the royal treatment?

Fenris walked past the tableau to grab himself a fresh plate of eggs, and as he passed by, he caught a strange scent.  His head swam momentarily, and he met Mikael’s eyes, which held a glimmer of amusement. Just as lightheadedness overtook him, he felt a surge of primal instinct. He suddenly desired to haul Mikael from his seat and punch him in front of everyone. His hand twitched at the notion, but he fought it back down. Something about the man had him on edge more than usual. He needed to be careful not to do anything stupid.

Mikael pushed himself from the table. The chair scraped loudly across the floor, and the maids, who had been precariously perched on his shoulder, had to stop themselves from falling to the ground.

“I had best get ready for the day,” he announced with a crack of his knuckles.

With amber eyes leveled at Fenris he added with a smile, “I think I will check on the mistress.”

Fenris felt a flash of rage, and his mouth went dry. It wasn’t uncommon for a guard to check on their charge. So why did he feel so angry that Mikael would be anywhere near his Ariana? As Mikael left the kitchen, Fenris shook his head almost violently. He needed to get a grip on himself! He wolfed down his meal in record time and followed on Mikael’s heels. He wasn’t about to leave the man alone with her.

He found them in the garden, where the wind was blowing more strongly than usual. Ariana held her long braid down, which struggled against her hand like a golden snake.

“Do you need something Mikael?” she asked.

“I only wished to check on your mistress and see if you needed anything for the day,” he said in a sultry voice.

Fenris’ ear pricked up at the man’s casual tone. What was he up to?

Ariana smiled warmly at Mikael as another gust of wind ruffled her gown.

“Today, we will stay at home,” she answered. “Master Danarius is in no condition to venture out, so I will stay here too.”

Mikael gave a deep bow, turned on his heel, and walked back into the house. He walked by Fenris without a glance and went to the armory to arm himself for the day. Fenris’ heart thundered in his ears as Mikael passed by. His scent was strange: distinctly him, but somehow not. Fenris didn’t realize Ariana was calling to him until she stood before him.

“Are you well?” She asked, concern visible in her eyes.

“F-fine, my lady,” he stammered. He felt the need to pull her close and claim her lips with his own. He felt his hand raising before he managed to stop himself.

As though reading his mind, Ariana took a cautious step back.

“You had best go check on the master,” she said softly.

He nodded vigorously and sped upstairs to check on Danarius. It was getting close to the time he would usually get up, and not knowing when he would wake was unnerving.

Fenris cracked open the door and saw the room still plunged into darkness. The room stank of sweat and wine, and the air was filled with Danarius snoring. He would awake hungover, and Fenris knew that he would be expected to wait on him until he felt better.

He sighed and decided to get his weapons now. He was sure Mikael would be gone from there by now. He somehow wanted to avoid and fight the man at the same time. With another firm shake of his head, Fenris shut Danarius’ door behind him and approached the armory. Today was a strange day indeed.

***

Even with a hangover cure prepared by the expert hands of Meredith Danarius was quite sick for the rest of the day. He hadn’t had so much to drink in ages and was paying for his excess. Fortunately, it dulled his fangs for the time being, which was a blessing for everyone around him. Fenris felt the reprieve would be short-lived, and he bristled at the notion that Danarius would come back stronger and meaner than before. He would have to wait and see, though. It didn’t do to worry about it now. Not when something was going on with Mikael.

At lunchtime, Fenris lost track of the man. He stood guard at the library where Ariana lounged on a settee and read Swords and Shields. She had taken such a liking to it that she had purchased more books in the series. Judging by the sighs and giggles from the couch, she must have enjoyed them quite a bit. Fenris watched as Orana ran up the stairs towards Ariana’s room. He wondered vaguely what she was up to but pushed it out of his mind. He could ask her later what was so important.

***

Orana was bringing another gift from Lady Arida to Ariana’s bedroom. The woman was so kind and generous that she took her mistress under her wing. She dared not open the package herself and would leave it for later.

As she opened the door, she jumped in surprise. She wasn’t alone.

“Mikael? What are you doing in here?” Orana squeaked when she saw the elf standing in the center of Ariana’s room.

“I’m just checking to ensure there isn’t anyone hiding in here,” he answered smoothly.

He flashed her a brilliant smile, and she felt weak in the knees. She had hardly spoken to the man who guarded her mistress until now. He had never seemed approachable, but he had been much more friendly today.

“W-well, you had the best leave,” she stammered. “It’s not proper for a man to be alone in a lady’s room.”

Unphased, Mikael gave her a deep bow and strode past her towards the stairs. She shivered as his warmth passed by her, but she resisted the sudden urge to grab the man and push him back onto the bed.

“What are you thinking, Orana?!” she hissed when he was out of earshot. This was so unlike her.

Even though he was Ariana’s guard, Orana still combed through all her jewels and possessions to ensure nothing was stolen. Content that nothing was missing, she sighed in relief. She was just being paranoid, as usual. Her bare foot stepped on something hard and cool when she moved towards the door. She jumped back before she could crush whatever it was and glanced down to see a small vial rolling underneath the bed. She snatched it before it rolled too far away and turned it around in her hands. It was clear with gold filigree and a cork stopper.

“This must be the mistress’ perfume,” she said to herself, placing it on Ariana’s vanity with the other scents. “It’s a good thing I didn’t break it!”

She straightened the room out until Ariana came back just before dinner time.

“Mistress, there is a present for you!” she trilled and thrust the package from Lady Arida into Ariana’s hands.

“Oh my, how generous!” Ariana gushed and sat at her vanity.

She peeled back the plain brown paper and found a new cloak and a letter of invitation for a ladies’ retreat in one month.

“This is beautiful,” Ariana whispered as she pulled out.

It was a deep crimson red with a soft white fur trim.

“Fennec fur,” Orana observed admiringly. “It will look stunning on you, mistress.”

“I just hope Danarius will let me go,” Ariana said with a furrowed brow. She was sure Lady Arida would come up with the right words to sway her husband, but who knew what his mood would be when he finally came out of his drunken stupor.

She folded the cloak into a neat bundle and placed it on her bed. She let her hair down and decided to get ready for dinner. Even though she would be dining alone with Danarius in the house, she would be expected to be radiant. As her eyes scanned the vanity, they caught on something foreign.

“What’s this?” Ariana asked and pointed to the new vial with a curious look.

“Oh? I thought this was one of your new perfumes, mistress,” Orana replied with a furrowed brow. “Is it not yours?”

“It must be,” Ariana replied with a shrug. “Perhaps it was something Lady Arida sent with one of her care packages.”

She picked up the unassuming vial and swished the clear liquid around inside. She uncorked it and took a tentative sniff.

“Musky,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “Not to my tastes, but I’ll trust my friend.”

She poured a drop and dabbed it behind her ear. After a moment, she frowned. She smelled no different. She dabbed another drop behind the other ear—still nothing. Ariana sighed in frustration and took a long swipe of the perfume on each wrist for good measure.

“Strange,” Ariana muttered with a shrug.

She returned the mostly empty vial to her counter and picked up a decanter of her favorite scent. She spritzed a brush and combed it through before having Orana braid her hair. Two braids from her temples and down the center while the rest of her hair fell in a golden curtain down her back.

“How do I look?” she asked, turning to her friend.

“Quite good, mistress!” Orana replied emphatically. “It’s too bad Danarius is still sick in his bed. He would be pleased to see you.”

Ariana decided not to reply that it was quite lovely that Danarius was out of her hair for the evening and that the servants probably hadn’t been so at ease since he was a sea away. She thought about it, but she didn’t say it.

“Take the rest of the night off,” Ariana said with a smile.

“Mistress?” Orana asked.

“I can undress myself later. You’ve been working so hard lately that I want you to take some time for yourself. Go spend time with your friends downstairs,” Ariana replied.

“Yes, mistress!” Orana nodded. The maids would be done with work now, and she also wanted to visit with Meredith.

When Orana left, Ariana sighed and let her head fall back against the chair. She wished she could do more, like give Orana some money and let her go into town and enjoy herself. There was no way Danarius or Selvig would approve of such a thing. Suddenly, she got an idea. She summoned a maid to her room and wrote out a note to be delivered to the Gereon manor. With a small pouch of coins, the young lady made a beeline for the messenger boy downstairs. Even though they couldn’t get out, Ariana knew that Adrian's treats would pick up the mood of her servants that night.

With that task out of the way, Ariana finally went to the dining room for her evening meal.

Both Fenris and Mikael were present at either side of the table. Mikael pulled the chair out with a flourish, and as she sat down, he froze in place. He wanted her. He broke into a sweat, and it took Fenris to clear his throat to remember his task. He shakily pushed Ariana’s chair up to the table and stepped back. He shifted in his place and tried to hide his already full erection. He cast a side glance at Fenris, who seemed not to notice. He wondered if he could convince the white-haired freak to leave the room briefly. He was already wound up and knew he wouldn’t need long inside her to find release. He took a steadying breath and ran his sweaty palms down his long red hair. He needed to keep cool. Why was this happening to him? He hadn’t felt like this since he saw Ceres.

As a platter of seared white fish was set in front of Ariana by one of the footmen, Mikael was hit with a chilling realization. He grasped his jacket pocket, and his blood ran cold when he found nothing. His special vial was gone. Could she have found it? Did she put some of it on? He saw how the footman’s eyes widened as he bent over and knew that must be precisely what happened. Now, he would need to endure a torturous hour at her side. This was worse than when he met up with Ceres at that seedy hotel.

“If you want to cum then do it in that Ferelden bitch at home,” Ceres’ words echoed in his head. Bending Ariana over that table and mounting her like a beast in heat was all he wanted right now.

Fenris looked over to Mikael curiously. The man hadn’t stopped fidgeting since Ariana entered the room, and his behavior was becoming increasingly erratic. Mikael’s face was blush red, and a fine sheen of sweat was on his skin. Fenris’ eyes trailed down, and he clenched his jaw. The strong outline in Mikael’s pants made it clear what was on the other man’s mind.

“Get out!” Fenris barked louder than he meant to.

The room went quiet, and all eyes landed on him.

“You are clearly ill, man,” he continued, pointedly glaring at Mikael. Mikael stood still for a moment before Fenris flicked his eyes down and made it quite clear that he knew.

“Y-yes…yes, quite ill,” Mikael muttered before hurriedly leaving the dining room. He hunched over as though sick to hide his shame. The plan was a failure. What was he going to do now? What was he possibly going to tell Ceres?

“Fenris?” Ariana asked, turning her blue eyes to him.

“I just saw that he was quite unwell,” Fenris lied. “I thought it best if he retired for the night.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“You could have been nicer,” she chastised.

‘I also could have ripped his throat out and thrown it across the room,’ he thought darkly but chose not to say it out loud.

The footman also excused himself from the room, leaving Fenris and Ariana alone. Fenris shook his head. What was going on with everyone?

“I need some lemons,” Ariana muttered to herself.

He noticed a small bowl with slices of bright yellow fruit on a side table and brought it to her. When she turned towards him, the bowl slipped from his hand and clattered onto the floor. He mumbled to himself for being clumsy and knelt, and he began to pick up the few pieces of lemon that had fallen to the floor.

“It’s alright,” she said with a smile. After looking around to make sure no one was around, she affectionately stroked his cheek. As she made contact, his hand flew up and grasped her wrist. She watched as his eyes darkened, his mouth parted, and his breathing sped up.

“Ariana,” he said in that husky baritone that made her melt.

“Fenris?” she replied, quite surprised.

His thumb was lazily tracing a circle against her pulse point. He seemed to have no intention of letting her go. He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm gently. It would seem almost a noble gesture if his tongue hadn’t followed soon after. She gasped as he gently licked her hand and placed a tender kiss just above her thumb.

“What are you doing?!” she squeaked, but she didn’t pull away. She again looked around to see if anyone else was around, but they were still alone. She said a silent prayer of thanks that Danarius was sick in bed.

Fenris jerked away in surprise as though he suddenly remembered his surroundings. He didn’t want to stand from his position, though, lest he reveal how deeply aroused she had made him just by existing.

As though understanding his predicament, Ariana looked to her plate. A bright blush stained her cheeks, which drove him deeper into desire. He shakily stood and apologized before exiting the dining room the same as the other men before him had done. All at once, Ariana was left alone and quite confused. She stayed alone for the rest of her meal, and when she was done, she pulled the string to summon a servant before hurrying upstairs. She would just turn in, and she hoped that everyone would be a little less bizarre in the morning.

***

Fenris’ hands shook as he entered the kitchen. Adrenaline coursed through his system, and he yearned for an outlet. For a brief moment, he thought about finding Mikael and demanding another duel, but he didn’t know if he could stop himself from finishing it. He seethed at the other elf for coveting his mistress. He knew he was a hypocrite, but he didn’t care now. Fortunately, away from Ariana’s presence, his arousal wasn’t so pressing, so he walked without embarrassment around the other slaves.  

The others were gathered around the table, where platters of different sweets littered the surface. Orana picked up a still hot square of dough covered in powdered sugar. As she bit into it, she giggled in delight as a sticky apple filling dripped onto the floor.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’ll clean that up,” she gasped.

Meredith chuckled, “Let’s enjoy this before it goes cold. Cleaning can wait.”

She placed a large slice of chocolate cake on a plate and a few errant crumbs rolled onto the table. They would need to clean up once the food was gone, but only after.

Fenris noted Mikael was nowhere to be found, and a bolt of unease struck him. What if the man was upstairs and forcing himself on Ariana right now? Without another thought he ran upstairs, teeth bared in rage at the idea another man would be with her right now.

Her door was firmly shut, but he threw it wide open, expecting to come across a scandalous scene. Instead, Ariana shrieked in surprise and threw her pillow square in his face.

“Fenris! What in the name of Andraste are you doing?” she demanded.

She was very much alone in her room. In her shock, she had picked up her blanket and attempted to cover her body, which was clad only in a cream-colored slip. The room was filled with the musky scent from earlier, and his resolve was shattered. He stepped into the room, and with a shaky hand, he shut the door and locked it firmly behind him.

The voice in his head that generally tried to be reasonable was dead and buried. Everything in him screamed to take her now and claim her as his own.  

He stepped forward and tore the blanket from her hands. He threw it across the room and pulled her against him. Any sounds of protest were muffled as his lips crashed into hers. She attempted to push him away, but he held fast. When he broke the kiss, he saw the desire in her eyes and knew it reflected his. She was breaking, too.

“Please let me have you,” Fenris gasped, caressing her hair. He needed this. He needed her.

“F-Fenris!” she squeaked. “What’s come over you?”

“I can’t help this,” he admitted to his shame. “I need you.”

“We can’t,” she tried to explain. “What about Danarius? He’ll kill us if he finds out.”

“Danarius is indisposed right now. Tonight, it’s about you and me,” he murmured, his hand trailing down to cup her cheek.

“You’re under a spell of some sort,” she babbled, unable to back up because of the vanity behind her. “A desire demon or some being of lust has-”

He kissed her again, more tenderly this time, and rested his forehead against hers. “I have wanted you for months now, much longer than I have a right to admit. Perhaps something influences my decisions, but it’s making me braver about what I want and nothing more.”

Her hand grasped his, and her blue eyes searched his green ones, which seemed clearer, “What do you want?”

“I want you, Ariana. All of you, and I want to give you all of me.”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and worried about it as she thought. 

With a sigh, Fenris untangled himself and backed up a step to give her space. 

“Command me to go, and I shall.” 

He worried about what she might say but knew whatever she decided, he’d respect. 

Instead of denying him, she embraced him and gently pressed her lips against his. “Don’t you dare leave,” she smirked. “I want you too, Fenris, so let’s enjoy the night.”

His hands floated down to rest on her waist, and her arms encircled his neck. Their hunger for each other grew as hands dared to wander, and lips parted to be plundered. Fenris grasped Ariana’s ass with one and the back of her head with the other, pulling her flush against his body.

Her eyes became impossibly wide, and she looked downward to where they were pressed together.

“Fenris,” she marveled. 

“If you think it feels good now,” he chuckled, kissing one side of her mouth. “Then wait till it’s finally inside of you.” He kissed the opposite side before placing a searing kiss on her lips. Her fingers raked through his hair, and she felt her core heating up beyond what she’d ever felt. 

Her nipples were hard peaks that ground against his hard chest, and even the soft materials of their tops couldn’t grant it a reprieve. 

“I want you,” she repeated as his lips trailed downwards. 

“And you shall have me, Ariana,” he said, his voice low and husky.

Skipping over her breasts, he dropped to his knees and gently skated his rough palms over her smooth thighs. His head was almost the perfect height for what he would do next.

“Fenris? What are you-ah!” she squeaked as he lifted the hem of her slip and swirled his tongue around her clit. To his delight, she had no smallclothes on. 

Her desire was already causing her pussy to glisten, and he nuzzled her mound. 

“Back up,” he growled, and she obeyed.

He crawled with her steps, and when her back hit the vanity, he hoisted her up so she sat perched on the edge. Her splayed hands knocked her hairbrush and new cloak to the ground, but she couldn’t care less.

She began to say something, but it was drowned out by a loud moan when he speared her core with his eager tongue. 

“Maker’s breath!” she gasped and bucked.

A rumble emanated from his chest, and he grabbed her hips, pinning her down. “You must be quiet, Ariana. We don’t want to get caught.”

She nodded frantically, wanting to do anything to get him to resume. 

His hold moved to her thighs, and he spread her wide before he began to devour her like a man starved. She had never experienced anything like this, and she relegated her sounds to pants and soft, praising whispers. His tongue delved into her, drinking from her like her nectar would give him life before he’d pull back and lick her entire slit up to her clit. 

Something started building inside her; it was low in her belly and it felt like her body was filling with fire. 

“Fenris!” she whimpered. “Something’s happening!”

Feeling her core get hotter and wetter, he knew exactly what was happening. He slid two fingers inside of her dripping pussy and worshipped her clit as she drew closer to orgasm.

Her hands scrabbled for purchase, raking his upper back and leaving small trails. Despite his trauma, this only served to heighten his lusts, and he began to alternate licking and sucking. 

“Fenris!” she gasped, as stars shone behind her eyes and it felt like she shattered into a million glittering pieces. As she came, he crooked his fingers, bringing another wave of bliss. Fenris sat back on his heels and smiled at her as she came down. His mouth and chin were covered in her juices, and he licked his lips.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are right now?” He asked. “Your legs spread, pussy practically red from desire, hair mussed, and those beautiful breasts heaving?”

She shook her head slowly, reeling from the first orgasm she’d ever had and watching him intently. 

He stood and quickly shed his clothes. When his cock sprung free, she swallowed thickly. He was so big it almost wasn’t funny.

He approached her and rubbed his tip against her entrance, teasing her until she whined and began to plead for him. Grasping her, he walked to her bed, and they tumbled onto the soft covers together. She kissed him, tasting herself for the first time, and caressed his cheek. He broke the kiss and trailed down to her breasts, where he lapped one rose-pink nipple and used his fingers to torment the other.

She grew frustrated as he played her body like an expert lute player, and she was an instrument. His cock was so swollen it was nearly purple with need, and yet he had not entered her. As he drove her desire to a fever pitch, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Just as he raised his head for another kiss, she swung her leg over his back and flipped them so she was astride. His eyes rounded in shock, and she pressed the tip inside. Slowly, she lowered herself until the tip popped inside.

“I’m done waiting,” she informed him as she sank inch by inch. His body shook, and his hands went to her hips. The urge to thrust was overwhelming, but he wanted her to set the pace. Their stifled moans and gasps intertwined, and her hands went to his chest as she began to buck her hips to take him in slowly.

“You’re doing wonderful, Ariana,” Fenris praised, watching the blush stain from her cheeks to her hard nipples. “You’ll feel so good when it’s all inside.”

She shivered, and when she finally managed to bottom out, she arched her back and had to stay still for a moment to accommodate him. The mixture of pleasure and intense burn twinned to make something sharper, more intense. 

“Ariana,” Fenris called softly, pulling her out of her reverie.

“Ariana, I need to move, or I will truly go mad,” he gasped. The firelight highlighted the sweat on his tanned skin, and his brands glowed gold. 

She nodded, and his hands grasped her tightly, lifted her, and brought her back down. He went slow at first so she could get used to him, but as soon as her mouth dropped open and she began to buck of her own accord, all bets were off. He thrust his hips and slammed hard into her. Soon, the sinful sounds of their joining echoed in the room. 

“Fenris, it’s happening again,” she whimpered, and he felt her core twitch and heat up. He wasn’t ready for his climax, but he was eager to assist her with hers. Reaching down, he found her swollen clit and stroked it in time with his thrusts. All at once, her body froze, and her pussy clamped down on his cock so hard he almost couldn’t move. Her hands were on his shoulders, and she clutched him so hard he wondered if he’d have bruises. 

She rolled off of him and lay on the covers beside him. She looked curiously at his cock, which stood proudly from a nest of black curls. 

“You still haven’t…” she began.

“If you’re willing to continue, then I most certainly will,” he chuckled and kissed her cheek. 

“How do you want me?” she asked. 

He thought for a moment, and his mind went back to the first thought he’d had of her, on her knees, moaning as he drove into her, his hands on her hips. 

“All fours.”

She complied and shakily assumed the position. He got behind her and smiled at the perfect moment. His tan hands ran over her hips and ass, trailing down to her slit and gathering the wetness she still had. 

He lubed up his cock and, without much warning, hilted himself inside of her waiting pussy. She clapped a hand over her mouth, and a strangled cry was muted in her throat. He smirked and looked up to see a mirror across from them. His smile grew wilder as he watched his body behind her, mating her like a beast. 

“Look, Ariana,” he breathed.

She did as he said, and she immediately looked away. 

Her shyness only enflamed his lusts, and he bent over her, whispering wicked things in her ear. “You’re so beautiful. Seeing your pleasure splashed across your face is so intoxicating I may have to come here every day to experience it.”

She shook her head and continued to look down. His cock throbbed, and soon he felt that familiar fire that told him he wouldn’t last much longer. He reared back, grabbed her shoulders, and sat her back so she was forced to watch him drive his cock into her hungry body. 

“This is what you do to me,” he choked out. His head was swimming. “I will never want another woman for as long as I live, Ariana. You have ruined me.”

He gave two more hard thrusts before he grit his teeth and shuddered as his climax hit him like a tidal wave. He could feel the tremendous amount of seed he was pumping into her, and it seemed to go on forever. Followed by her tipping after him and her pussy milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Hours later, just before dawn he collapsed for good this time and dragged her down to nestle against his chest. 

“Are you alright, Ariana?” He asked gently.

“Never better,” she murmured and kissed his lips. 

They lay in each other's embrace until Ariana slipped into a blissful sleep. Once he knew she was out, Fenris quietly redressed and exited the room. As soon as he cleared the door, he heard a soft cough. Whirling around, he saw Orana standing near the stairs to the slave’s quarters. 

“I-I..I-” he stammered.

She approached him, and he saw the conflicted look in her eyes as she took in his presence. She had no words of condemnation or reproach. No, if anything, she looked sad.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she sighed as she slipped into Ariana’s room and silently shut the door behind her.

Wheeling around and descending the pitch-black staircase, he had to admit that, in fact, he didn’t know what he was doing. 

***

In the morning, Ariana woke with a start. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked around the room, only to find it empty. She lay back against her pillows and thought forlornly that it must have been a wild dream. Now that Fenris was back home, she found they were happening more frequently. Looking at the vanity, she saw everything was in order. Nothing must have occurred in the night. 

With a blunted sigh, she stood and felt a sudden rush of fluid down her thighs. Gathering it on her fingers, she hesitantly sniffed it and confirmed her thoughts. She had been with Fenris the previous night. She trembled at the realization, although she didn’t know if it was because she was terrified that Danarius would find out or if she could hold back from letting it happen again. Her core throbbed in a mixture of pain and pleasure. It was a good pain, though, like having a sore muscle that aches from use. It was the first time she had ever experienced pleasure with sex, and she wanted to have it again soon.

***

Downstairs, Fenris was in the slave’s bathing quarters. He sat, staring listlessly at the wall as the soap suds dried on his back. One time. This had to be only one time. If they tried for more, Danarius would find out and kill them. 

His cock twitched at the memory of her on his tongue, beneath him, around him, and crying out in ecstasy. With a scowl, he shook his head. These memories were just that, and they needed to stay buried forever. 

He grabbed the bucket and dumped ice-cold water on himself to rinse the soap away. Under the pile of clothes, he fished around for a healing potion he had taken. Quickly, he gulped it down to get rid of the evidence of her passion. From now on, she couldn’t heal him. It would have to be potions. He couldn’t let her get that close again.

Deep down, though, his heart ached. He had never experienced something so raw and exquisite before, and he didn’t want to let it go, but he had to.

“I’m sorry, Ariana,” he murmured. 

He looked to the ceiling and imagined her sleeping soundly in her bed above him. He was a coward and knew they would be hurt because of his actions. But so long as they weren’t killed, he would accept any hate that she had for him. He loved her, and he would do anything to keep her safe. 

Chapter Text

When Fenris exited the shower nearly an hour later, he had regained his composure. He had reconciled the fact that he had lied to himself and Ariana last night. It was just something he’d have to live with.

He kept his head down as he sat at the breakfast table. A half-full bowl of grey gruel was slid in front of him: his lot for the day. The indulgent meal Meredith had served Mikael yesterday had depleted their stores. He glanced at the older woman’s face and saw regret as her eyes met his. A maid sat beside him and sighed loudly from irritation when Meredith placed food in front of her.

“Is this all I’m expected to eat?” she huffed and scratched the table with the tip of her spoon.

Fenris’ gaze was caught on the flecks of rust on that tarnished spoon as he listened to the scraping. The sound echoed in his mind, and suddenly, the memory of delicate fingers running down his back captured his mind. A perfect pink pair of lips parted and moaned his name over and over like the chorus of a hymn. He shot out of his chair. It clattered to the ground behind him, and the hollow sound of the leg snapping caused everyone to jump.

“Fenris?” Meredith asked as she looked at him with shock and concern.

He stepped back from the table and shook his head, shutting her out.

“I’m not hungry,” he grumbled, pushing his bowl to the maid and stalking from the room.

Without thinking, he found himself on the stairwell that led up to Ariana’s room. The same one he took last night and again earlier this morning back down into the bowels of the house. He sunk halfway between both floors and sat, unable to continue. His calloused hand clenched around the wrought iron railing. He knew he had been toeing the line. The line between slave and owner, between friend and lover that they always had danced around but never crossed until last night. He raked tanned fingers through his messy hair and took a steadying breath. What the hell had come over him?

He had never felt so alive. Never knew it was possible to feel such pleasure and joy as when she had been in his arms. He knew he had only acted on the desire he’d been feeling for so long, but at what cost?

Fenris looked up at the landing door leading to Ariana’s room. Fractured dawn light peeked around the edges. Golden rays illuminating a path he was not allowed to take. He felt like he could never open that door again.

He retreated down the stairs. He would take a different route from now on. As he passed by the kitchen, he heard a shrill clanging and came to a halt. He didn’t have to look to know who was demanding the presence of a slave. Danarius was awake, and it was time to see the bear in his cave.

As Fenris climbed the main staircase, he heard a sudden scream followed by thudding and a sickening crack. His heart sped up, and he broke into a run. It sounded like Ariana! Were they found out? Was she being beaten? When he reached the landing, the crumpled form of a woman was sprawled out on the floor in front of the grand staircase. He approached and saw that it was not Ariana. She wore a maid’s outfit. A pool of blood slowly oozed out and turned her mousy brown hair a deep crimson. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle, and her glassy eyes seemed to stare right through him. It was the new maid who had eaten his breakfast.

“Damndest thing, these stairs,” a silky voice crooned down to him. “So slippery at times.”

Danarius smirked at Fenris before turning back to his room. He didn’t need to say anything; Fenris knew he must follow.

He flagged down a houseboy who cowered behind one of the entryway’s pillars. The child had probably witnessed the whole thing. The boy slunk from the shadows, eyes darting around as though Danarius might appear from any crevice.

“Get Selvig,” Fenris said. His voice had a sharper edge than he meant, and the boy visibly flinched.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to center himself.

“Get Selvig,” Fenris repeated, much softer this time. “He will know what to do.”

The boy nodded frantically and shot to the nearest door as though demons were snapping at his heels.

Fenris grabbed the polished mahogany banister, casting one last glance at the poor woman. It had solid gold trim and end caps. He cleared his mind of useless thoughts and composed himself to the stoic countenance he had worn since his branding years ago. It was time to return to the way things were permanently.

Danarius’ door was ajar, and Fenris knocked loudly. The room was dark, but he heard Danarius moving around inside. One minute went by, then two. He felt a twinge of irritation, then chastised himself. What was there to be upset about? It’s not like he had anything better to do with his time.

“Come in,” Danarius called out after the fourth minute.

As soon as he entered the room, he was slammed against the door. His head rocked back and cracked against the solid wood.

“I’ve missed you, little wolf,” Danarius snarled, and Fenris felt a burst of pain as Danarius bit his collarbone.

Fenris unwittingly groaned in agony, which elicited a chuckle from his cruel master.

“Oh? You want this, too?” Danarius hissed before biting the other side.

Cold, bony fingers dug under Fenris’ chest armor and tore at his laces. This was all wrong. Fenris felt his eyes stinging and was thankful for the darkness that shrouded him.

“That maid tried to deny me,” Danarius said softly as his sickening touch slithered through the gaps of the shredded leather.

Fenris felt a wave of nausea but said nothing.

“Stupid girl,” his master sighed almost wistfully. “However, her refusal has only made me hungrier. Fortunately, I have an obedient little wolf to sate my every need.”

Moments of silence stretched between them, and Fenris felt the air around him crackle with danger. He had to respond.

“Your will is my own, Master,” he choked out before Danarius’ lips crashed against his. His bottom lip was pulled between Danarius’ teeth, and he felt his flesh ripping from the violent ministrations.

Danarius grabbed the back of his neck, and he was roughly shoved deeper into the room.

“Undress and get on the bed,” Danarius snarled, and Fenris heard the door lock.

-------

By the time Fenris was allowed to leave the bedroom, the sun was setting. His left foot dragged as he limped towards the stairs. He had rope burns on his wrists and ankles. He had hundreds of razor-thin cuts on his body, and a mix of blood and Danarius’ seed oozed down his legs, causing his pants to stick in all the wrong places. If he could just make it to the baths, he could clean at least some of the filth from his body.

“Fenris?” A surprised voice called to him.

He grit his teeth and exhaled an angry breath through his nose. Not now. He didn’t want to be seen like this.

He turned and glared at the person across the hall from him.

“What the hell do you want, Mikael?” he croaked. His throat was hoarse from screaming and ached from Danarius’ fingers squeezing until he thought he would die from lack of air.

Mikael took a tentative step towards him; his folded arms came down to his sides as he looked Fenris over. Fenris expected disgust, amusement, or contempt from the gaze. What he didn’t expect was understanding.

Mikael nodded as though making a decision. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A short while later, Fenris climbed into the bath for the second time that day. The water was icy, but it felt good on his ragged skin. Mikael had escorted him downstairs and fetched him a towel with new clothes. Now, he stood outside the door to shoo other servants away so Fenris had privacy. Fenris sighed and let his head fall back on the rim of the old brass tub. The water barely covered his thighs, but it was enough to finish the job. He felt himself drifting off when he heard a soft knock on the door.

“You almost done?” Mikael asked.

“Yes,” he replied gruffly. He stood and ran the thin towel over his body. It didn’t dry him so much as move the water drops around, but it would have to do. Pulling on the rough-spun shirt, he hissed quietly as the material scraped over his cuts. The shirt was two sizes too big, but the extra room meant it wasn’t clinging to his wounds.

When he opened the door, he saw Mikael casually leaning against the wall opposite of him. The look on Mikael’s face was indecipherable.

“You good?” Mikael asked, his gaze never wavered.

“Yes…thanks,” Fenris answered. He did not shirk from Mikael’s probing eyes.

“How long…” Mikael began before Fenris shook his head forcefully.

“Stop,” he snapped. “We’re not friends. I’m not going to talk about this with you. You helped me, and we’ll leave it as is.”

A half smile formed on Mikael’s lips. “Right.”

Fenris watched as Mikael stood up straighter, gave him a curt nod, and disappeared down the dark hallway toward the kitchen. Despite the gnawing hunger in his belly, Fenris went to his room. Sleep was an escape. Escape from hunger, escape from pain, and escape from the sadness that he couldn’t entirely ignore. Almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, a gentle knock sounded at his door. He growled from frustration and stormed to the door.

“What?” he snapped as he flung it open.

Orana stood in the hallway, her mouth hanging open in shock as she saw him.

“Your skin,” she murmured, taking a step closer to examine him. “The mistress is not yet asleep. I know she’d-.”

“No!” he growled. “I will not allow her to heal me any longer.”

Her face hardened, and she glared at him, “Is this really how you treat my lady after what happened last night?”

Fenris looked to the ground and clenched his fist. He couldn’t deny it. Not to Orana. After hours of lovemaking, Orana was there when he finally left Ariana’s room like a thief. There was nowhere to hide anymore.

“It has to be this way,” he ground out between grit teeth. “It’s the only way I can keep her safe.”

Orana sighed and took a small step towards him. “My lady saw the handkerchief she gave you returned with the laundry. She wanted you to have a new one.”

She grabbed his hand and pressed a crimson cloth into his palm. The color reminded him of the red shield of her family crest. Without another word, Orana disappeared into the darkness to report to Ariana. Fenris stood, shocked, in the doorway for a moment before he finally retreated to his bedroll. He held the handkerchief close, almost reverently, and drifted off to sleep.

-----

The lights in the theater dimmed, and the ebony curtain rose. Ariana and Danarius sat on the center balcony, which was the best seat in the house. She waved away a glass of champagne a slave offered on a silver tray and settled into her highbacked red velvet chair. When she was a child in Lothering, they occasionally saw traveling actors perform plays at the tavern or the chantry's religious plays. None of it could compare to the opulent sets and costumes put on at Minrathous’s largest theater. Using a small pair of opera glasses, she thought she could spy real diamonds laced in the lead actress’s gown.

The play was a retelling of the story of Andraste and Shartan, the elven slave who fought by her side against Tevinter, called “The Heresy of Shartan.” Although not devout, she felt incensed at the surprisingly graphic scene of Shartan and Andraste making love on the battlefield. Ariana would have sworn the actor experienced a literal orgasm as he cried out. Shartan was portrayed as perverted, violent, and entirely beyond redemption. It was the perfect narrative for a Tevinter slave master to validate their actions towards those they own. By the play’s end, the audience called for Shartan’s blood as he was burned alongside Andraste. Ariana vaguely wondered how many slaves would receive an extra whipping tonight in his place.

The after-party was a smaller gathering in a lounge off the main theater. As the guests milled around, Ariana sat perched on Danarius’ lap. He had chosen a lounge chair in the center of the room so they could be displayed. She held her chin high despite the heavy weight of the golden tiara and bejeweled hair pins that dug into her scalp. The adornments were carefully arranged to create a halo effect reminiscent of Andraste’s. That is where the similarities ended, though. In true Danarius fashion, he curated her entire look. Although her face may have looked angelic with the rose-pink lips, soft blue eye shadow, and dusting of gold flake on her cheeks below her neck, it was a different story. Her dress was crimson, with a tight sheath and a split up each leg to the hip. However, not truly bare, the material across her breasts was sheer and plunged past her navel in a V shape. A thick belt set with onyx gems was slung low on her hips as though it were the one barrier to her preserving her modesty, allowing her most feminine part to be covered. To finish the look, she wore gold bangles that looked like shackles on her wrists and ankles. She was made to be desired and coveted, Danarius’ lovely whore wife.

“Do you see how they look at you?” Danarius purred in her ear. “I wonder how many would pay me to be able to take you on this chair right now.”

Ariana glanced around the room. Many men and even some women leered at her with hunger in their eyes.

“How much do you think you’d go for?” he asked, trailing his fingers up her thigh. “I could probably buy a dozen more slaves just from your mouth alone.”

Ariana felt a rise in anxiety, but just as quickly as it appeared, she willed it away. She had a part to play; it was the only thing that allowed her to survive.

“I will do whatever my husband desires,” she said softly. Peering at him through her dark lashes, she tried to project an image of innocence.

Danarius chuckled as his lips turned up in a frightening smile.

“Yes, you will,” he said and removed his hand. A man approached them from across the room. He wore the robes of the magisterium, though they were stretched tight as a drum over his rotund belly.

“Danarius,” the man rumbled and gave a deep bow. Ariana caught the scent of too much cologne that had been combed through his greasy hair.

Danarius’ hand tightened on her waist, and he pointedly looked between Ariana and the newcomer as though he were deciding something.

“Ariana, go fetch yourself something to drink. Lord Amladaris and I need to speak,” Danarius finally said.

She slid off his lap and found herself practically pressed against Amladaris. He grinned wolfishly and reached out to stroke the soft material on her belly. Before he could make contact, a tall, muscular body forced its way between them.

“My mistress needs to pass,” a soft voice growled. Ariana stared at the slim back covered in black leather armor and saw the tension in her guardians’ shoulders.

Amladaris stepped back and glared at the duo, but he made no further move to stop Ariana. When they were out of earshot, Ariana exhaled the breath she had been holding.

“Thank you, Mikael,” she said softly.

“My honor, mistress,” he replied with a broad smile. He led her to the beverage table and then disappeared into the crowd.

Casually, Ariana picked up a non-alcoholic drink, a fizzy pink concoction that tasted like raspberries. She sipped it as she scanned the room. She immediately found Mikael as he took his spot, leaning against the wall. She could always find him within her line of sight. However, there was no other friendly face that she could see. Fenris was hiding in the shadows. She felt a small stab of pain that he hadn’t been the one to rescue her. They hadn’t spoken since their night together a month ago, and after Orana’s report, she knew he was actively avoiding her. The first few days after their passionate night, she had been a fearful mess, thinking that Danarius would charge at her at any moment and slaughter her for daring to be defiled by his prized slave. But the attack never came, and now her life fell back into a predictable numbness.

An hour later, Mikael returned to inform her that the master wanted to leave. She felt a glimmer of joy; she didn’t have the stamina to stay up until dawn posing for these people. Outside in the cold night air, she felt a chill from her lack of dress. Rather than offering her his thick cloak, Danarius simply snapped his fingers to order her into the carriage. Mikael took his place on the pole behind her, and Fenris was already on Danarius’ side. He refused to look in her direction.

She took her place across from him and he tapped the roof to order the driver to head home. She looked out the window and saw the moon was just a sliver against the inky black sky.

“When was the last time I had you?” Danarius asked. Her eyes snapped to him, and she saw that he sat with his elbow propped on the back of the seat, his cheek resting on his fist. His other hand was stroking his stiff cock through his robe.

“It’s been two weeks, husband,” she replied quietly, her mouth dry. After his trip to Kirkwall, between magisterium and social function, they had hardly had time alone, much to Ariana’s delight. Still, two weeks ago, he had spent three full days with her, at times literally, chained to his bed.

“Too long,” he rumbled. “You look ravishing tonight.”

Ariana bowed in deference, “Thanks to you, my love.”

In an instant, Danarius lunged at her like a viper striking its prey. She yelped in surprise as she was hauled into his lap. She heard a loud rip as her dress was split even higher. He tore her belt off and threw it across the carriage. It gave a sickening crunch as the large gems cracked the window, and she could feel a slight breeze on her back. He sunk his teeth into her left breast, and she cried out in pain.

“Let them hear you,” Danarius snarled. “Let them hear how you’re mine.”

Ariana’s eyes grew blurry from tears, and Danarius yanked the pins from her hair. One turned in just the right way that she felt a searing pain, and then her hair grew damp from blood.

Danarius caught the scent, and his eyes practically glowed from naked lust. The smell of a woman’s arousal would never measure up. He ground his hardness against her juncture, and she hated that he refused to let her wear undergarments. She closed her eyes as he pelted her with bites and raked his fingers along her bleeding scalp. When he finally entered her, his pace was punishing, and she screamed. The world suddenly tilted as he slammed her onto the floor of the carriage, knocking the wind out of her.

“This will be your life, little broodmare,” he hissed as he continued to brutalize her. “If you do not give me an heir. If you do not please me in all ways, I will sell you to a brothel, and every magister you’ve met will pay to mount you like the bitch you are.”

He arched his back and roared as he filled her with his seed. Her legs shook as she felt every last twitch of him before he pulled out. He then readjusted his robes and sat down as though nothing were amiss. Ariana lay on the ground panting and stared at the moon again through the broken glass. She felt a cold, crushing sadness: it hadn’t been like this with Fenris.

She almost missed the lurch of the carriage coming to a stop. She scrambled to grab the shredded remains of her dress around her. The door suddenly opened, and she found herself under the cold gaze of the one man she wanted more than anything. She wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. Fenris’ face was unreadable as he took in the sight of her.

Finally, he turned to Mikael and barked, “Get her ladyship’s maid.”

 Danarius pushed past Ariana, and Fenris bowed as he passed by. As Danarius entered the house, Fenris turned back to Ariana, and she swore she saw a flicker of anger in those green eyes.

“The driver will stay with you until Orana arrives,” he ground out before shutting the door.

Finally, alone, Ariana buried her face in the ruined gown and sobbed. She would leave that bastard someday. She didn’t know how, but the thought of escaping and somehow destroying Danarius got her out of bed every day. That kernel of hot rage melted away her sadness, and when a blue silk robe was wrapped around her shoulders, she felt her resolve strengthen.

“Let’s get you inside, mistress,” Orana said softly and gently, helping Ariana to her feet. “We’ll get you a bath. Would you like that?”

Ariana nodded and allowed herself to be led up to her room. When she passed by Mikael, she didn’t notice the look on his face, the disgust and anger. After she was inside and the door was shut, Mikael stared up at the manor and clenched his fists. Danarius and Ceres were a match made in hell, destroying anyone in their reach. He hadn’t heard from Ceres since the perfume incident; he had heard she returned to Kirkwall. He had time. He just had to figure out what to do with it.

------

Fenris roared as he slammed his fist through a milk crate. He turned and threw it against the stone wall of the outer courtyard and watched as it exploded into hundreds of splinters. He couldn’t get the image of Ariana out of his mind. Tears streamed down her face, vicious bites all over, and her hair matted with blood. He could still smell the scent of fear and sex. When he had opened that door, it took every ounce of his training not to rip out Danarius’ heart then and there. Now he stared wild-eyed up at Danarius’ window, panting as sweat dripped from his chin and his bloody knuckles dripped on the ground. His brands flared, and all over, he thrummed from lyrium potential.

“I thought I heard someone out here,” a low voice said from the doorway to the kitchen. He whirled around to see Selvig surveying the remains of the crates on which he had been venting his anger.

“I’ll…clean it up,” Fenris muttered as he dampened his power.

“No need. Matthias broke a dinner plate tonight from clumsiness. This is the perfect chore to do before breakfast,” Selvig responded with a dismissive wave. He then turned a hardened gaze to Fenris.

“Did you know I’ve served Danarius and his family for over 30 years?” he asked. “Do you know how I have managed that?”

Fenris shrugged and stared at him pointedly.

Selvig explained, “Even when I was the angriest I have ever been, I held it together. You’re toeing the line. You need to understand that.”

“What’s the point?” Fenris snapped. “It’s not like being reserved and obedient will ever change Danarius.”

“You can’t change your master, but you can change yourself. Do that, and you might keep yourself and the people you love alive.” Selvig answered.

Without another word, Selvig returned to the kitchen. Heaving a great sigh, Fenris sat on the remaining milk crates and looked at the moon. He laid his head in his hands, the blood staining his white hair strands pink, and began to devise a plan to keep Ariana safe.

------------------

“I won’t be going to the tea party today,” Ariana said to Orana as the elven woman brushed her waist-length blonde hair.

“No? Lady Arida will be disappointed,” Orana remarked while holding a sapphire hairpin between her teeth.

“Send her my apologies, but Lord Danarius wishes to picnic on the beach this afternoon.”

The two women’s eyes met, sharing a look of cautious confusion, and Ariana cocked her head. “Since it will be seaside, please use the pearl pins and my gold braided bangles.”

Orana went to Ariana’s dresser to gather the accessories, and Ariana went to her closet to grab a dress. Danarius hadn’t ordered her to wear anything specific, so anticipating his whims was up to her. She paused as she held up a white cotton bandeau dress in front of her reflection. After months of Danarius being away in Kirkwall, her skin had taken on a dewy glow, she had regained the weight she had lost, and her feminine curves had filled out.

‘Broodmare.’ Danarius’ voice from last night echoed in her mind. She lowered the dress and stared at the flat plane of her belly, knowing that her time was up. Produce an heir or be sold as a slave or worse. But would bringing a child into the world for them to be trained as Danarius’ successor be right? She felt like she was already having to choose between her life or her children’s, but they weren’t even conceived yet.

“I have the jewelry, mistress,” Orana said softly, breaking her trance.

“Thank you, Orana,” she murmured and took her place at the vanity. “We don’t want to keep the master waiting.”

There had been a lake near Lothering that her family would visit sometimes in the summer. Ariana had fond memories of using a rope swing and competing with Bethany and Carver to see who could leap farther into the chilly waters. The ocean was so much more, though. When she left Ferelden and then the Free Marches, she always feared that the sea was a gaping maw that would swallow her up—never to be heard from again.

“Do come sit down,” Danarius sighed in exasperation.

She returned to their picnic blanket and took her place under the large umbrella. Danarius had a plush folding chair, which he had settled in as he drank white wine. The noonday sun pounded on them, and Ariana set her shawl to the side. Fenris and Mikael flanked their respective owners, and she didn’t have to look to see that they were both drenched in sweat. A pair of houseboys and a kitchen maid also were on hand to carry equipment and serve. One boy brought her a glass of wine, and Danarius hissed at him. “She will be drinking water.”

The boy dashed back to the baskets and soon brought an ice-filled cup, which she downed gratefully. A veritable feast covered almost the entire blanket. As she looked over the offerings, Danarius mused, “Try the oysters.” It was not a suggestion.

She wrinkled her nose at the platter that was placed before her. Danarius had eaten more than a dozen of them already, but it seemed like there was an endless supply. She took a wedge of lemon and garnished the plump shellfish, and while holding her breath, she swallowed the cold, slimy morsel whole.

“Good girl,” Danarius praised.

She leaned against the umbrella pole and fanned herself. Her fan was made of strips of polished cherrywood painted with an Antivan landscape. It was presented to her by Magister Tilani at one of Lady Arida’s last soirees and perfumed with musk and lyrium, a scent meant to invigorate even the most tired of mages. She absently watched a small group of children playing in the waves. A toddler shrieked with glee as her older brothers took turns splashing her. The games stopped when one of the boys found a small crab. They chased their sister with it, and her frantic cries seemed to summon their mother from thin air. They were too far away for Ariana to hear, but she recognized the familiar head bowing that meant the boys would find out their punishment when they got home.

“Children should be allowed to explore,” Danarius commented as he ran his thumb along the craggy surface of an empty oyster shell.

She blinked in surprise and turned to look at him, “My Lord?”

“She stifles those boys,” he continued. “You can’t build a character with coddling.”

“They should learn there are boundaries, though. They need to learn that their enjoyment can’t come at the expense of others.”

A silent inhalation from the slaves around her warned her of her misstep as Danarius slowly swiveled his sharp grey eyes to stare at her. Seeing her error, she averted her eyes to look at his feet, the timid woman.

“How…positively, Ferelden,” Danarius chuckled. A loud crack pierced the air, and he tossed the shattered remains of the shell onto the sand. “I’ll breed it out of you yet.”

“How are children raised in Tevinter?” Ariana asked quietly. She had to know what kind of life she’d bring a child into.

“Children? I don’t care about other children. My son, my heir, will be given only the best. Governesses, tutors, boarding schools. He will be cultured beyond measure, and when the time is right, he will take my place in the magisterium.”

“What if it’s a girl, though?”

Danarius plucked a speck of sand from his tunic and gave her a chilling smile. “Then we try again. As many times as it takes.”

-----

When they finally left the beach, Ariana was anxious to be anywhere but in Danarius’ company, but he had one more stop in mind. The carriage pulled up to a massive building at the back of the marketplace that abutted the slums. As one of the houseboys helped her from the carriage, she caught the foul stench of sweat, dirt, and excrement. The carved rock doorway was wide open, and she saw that there was a wooden lattice in lieu of a ceiling. Fenris stepped a bit closer to her, and she could almost feel the warmth of his chest against her arm. A whip cracked from somewhere inside, and a loud wail answered it.

“W-where are we?” she stammered. She looked towards Fenris, but his face was a blank mask, and Mikael looked terrified.

“Mikael?”

Fenris whipped his head around and stared at the redheaded elf, now pale as milk and with impossibly wide eyes.

“Ariana, come here!” Danarius called, his irritation tangible.

She hurriedly followed him and fell in step behind like a duckling following its mother.

“Get it together,” Fenris growled and practically dragged Mikael along as he caught up with Danarius.

The small group, led by Danarius, entered the large building like a series of arenas, with the largest in the center taking up half the floor. A tall black curtain cleaved the furthest space from the others. Benches surrounded each arena she could see, and the waiting viewers held brightly colored paddles. It was an auction.

“We need a few more slaves,” Danarius said to no one in particular. “I thought we could buy a few before going home.”

Ariana was sickened. He spoke casually as if he were talking about heads of cabbage and not real people. The first arena they passed shattered her heart. They were children. Children of various ages, some barely old enough to be weaned, stood by handlers and waited their turn to be put on the block. Her rage flared, and she could practically feel tendrils of fire licking inside her mind, hissing to be unleashed. The next and largest arena was for those of working age in good condition. This auction was the most crowded, with the patrons bidding aggressively. A guard had to be dispatched to break up an argument between two men as they warred over a half-Qunari woman. Neither man won in the end when an anonymous bid came from one of the side alcoves that doubled their amount.

They followed Danarius past all of that and to the black curtain. He said a few words to the man guarding the entrance, and immediately, they were ushered in. Ariana had to blink for her eyes to adjust to the sudden golden light. The sight brought her to a standstill, and this auction was very different. Rather than a block, the room was built around a large circular podium. On the podium were pillows and loungers with naked slaves arranged in all manner of poses. The audience sat in overstuffed chairs and accepted beverages and snacks from devastatingly handsome men. Every slave here was beautiful and young. Her cheeks flushed when she watched a duo of Tevinter noble women running their hands over a slave’s thighs and testing the weight of his testicles in their hands. He purred something they loved hearing because the woman holding his member giggled and gave it a long stroke.

She was so captivated by the spectacle that she could not hear someone approach from behind.

“Danarius! To what do I owe the pleasure?” called a voice lovely as silver bells.

“Ceres, my dear, I’ve come to make a few purchases. I would like to introduce you to my wife, Lady Ariana Amell,” he answered, turning Ariana so the women were face to face.

“Oh…how simply cute you are,” Ceres cooed. “Danarius, I could eat her up.”

The words were friendly, and her face was angelic, but every alarm bell went off in Ariana’s mind at the sight of Ceres’ red lips framing the too-white teeth. Ceres was a flame that beckoned a moth to death within her warm embrace. Unfortunately for her, though, Ariana was no insect.

Ariana schooled her face to one of boredom and slightly inclined her head toward Ceres. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

She could have sworn she saw Ceres’ eye twitch, but it was gone in an instant.

“Let me take you to my office. Tell me what you want, and I’ll pull it from my prized stock. Only the best for my dearest friend,” Ceres tittered.

As Danarius and Ariana passed by, her eyes snapped to Mikael, and he could feel the murderous intent behind it. When she finally hurried away, he exhaled the breath he had been holding, but a sudden tearing pressure in his chest made him choke. It was as though his heart was being squeezed by an iron hand. Fenris leaned forward, and his breath grazed Mikael’s ear. He couldn’t turn his head, but he could see a faint blue glow coming from the other elf.

“Today, this is a warning, but when I find out what you’re up to with that woman, I will tear your heart out and throw it to the dogs,” Fenris snarled.

Then, the pressure was gone; Mikael fell to his knees and vomited. With a sigh, Fenris stepped past him and followed his master. As he knelt there, retching, tears streaming down his cheeks, Mikael’s mind ran circles like a rat in a cage. He had been agonizing over what to do, but Fenris’ threat made him realize he couldn’t wait any longer. As soon as possible, he would send a note to Ceres. He needed a grey warden.

-------

A week later, Fenris awoke to a loud banging on his door. Bleary-eyed and groggy, he wrenched it open to find Mikael waiting.

“What the hell do you want?” Fenris asked.

“I thought I ought to tell you that Lady Ariana and I will be leaving for a fortnight,” he replied smugly.

Fenris fought the urge to clench his fists. He was in no mood for games. “Where will you be going?”

“Lady Arida and a few others have invited our mistress to a girl’s retreat. With Danarius being so busy, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for her to rub elbows with the elite wives of the imperium.”

Fenris cocked an eyebrow, “Danarius has given his blessing?”

“Just this morning. The lady is packing right now.”

With a frustrated growl, Fenris bit out, “Why are you telling me this?”

After a long pause, Mikael answered, “Because I thought you’d like to say goodbye.”

Chapter Text

A carriage from the Gereon household arrived just before lunch, and the house was abuzz with activity to prepare the mistress for her trip. Fenris leaned against a column in the foyer as he watched the houseboys carrying her luggage outside. He was still shocked that Danarius was allowing her to leave for so long, but far be it from him to question the machinations of his Master.

“Do you have everything?” he heard Orana fuss as she and Ariana descended the stairs.

“I’ll be just fine,” Ariana answered warmly. “You have prepared me well.”

“I don’t understand why I can’t go with,” Orana insisted.

“Lady Arida’s maid will take care of me, and at least they allowed Mikael as my guard.”

Fenris felt a welling of jealousy, and a sneer tugged at his lips. Since the auction house, Fenris had watched Mikael for any signs of malicious intent, but the Dalish elf had been a model guard and only showed Ariana blind devotion. The women passed and he was struck with how lovely Ariana looked in her poppy red dress with her hair down in gently curled tresses. She practically glowed, and he was frozen to his spot. At the doorway, Ariana turned, and her eyes caught him in the shadows. He did not move to acknowledge her. After seconds of eternity, she smiled sadly, gave a nod, and was gone into the light outside.

When the door shut, the slaves scattered around to complete their daily tasks. Danarius was at the magisterium, so Fenris was utterly alone. Driven by an unconscious desire, he found himself at her door and turned the handle slowly. It was only a fortnight; he could endure. The open curtains filtered soft sunlight across the blue carpet in broad bands. Silently, he climbed into the still rumpled bed, pulled her pillow against his chest, and squeezed it tight. He buried his face into the cream-colored silk and deeply inhaled her scent. Just an hour, he promised himself, one hour to lose himself to the memories he kept locked away. He was thankful that no one would need him for now.

-------

Ceres showed up less than an hour after Ariana had left, luggage in tow, and strode in as though she were the new lady of the house. Confusion blazed through the slaves, and Fenris barely had enough time to get out of Ariana’s bed before Ceres swept up the stairs looking for Danarius. He came face to face with the blonde intruder as her foot touched the top landing.

“What do you want?” he had asked, barely stifling the venom in his voice.

“I’ve come to see my ‘Rius,” she said with a playful grin on her full lips.

“The Master is at the magisterium and will be there until nightfall. Selvig will pass on your greetings when he returns,” Fenris informed her, measuring his tone carefully.

“No need!” she tittered. She turned, causing her dress's thin layers of white gauze to flutter. She wore nothing underneath, and Fenris averted his eyes to avoid seeing her most intimate parts. He had to jog to keep up as she strode into the library and dove onto Danarius’ chair. She moaned erotically and rubbed her breasts against the immaculate black velvet.

“This feels so good,” she purred before turning to look at Fenris. The way she was up on all fours, presenting her backside to him, it was an invitation to play.

“The master has always found it comfortable,” Fenris replied dryly.

Ceres pouted and flopped onto her back, her eyes boring into him as she spent the next few minutes calculating something in her mind.

“I need a drink,” she said coldly and snapped her fingers.

The door swung open, and her guard, Rolf, entered, holding two large bottles of a rich amber liquid. It had been a test. If Fenris had taken her offer, Rolf would have burst into the room to protect his mistress.

‘Clever harlot,’ Fenris thought before reaffirming that he could never let his guard down around her for a moment.

Rolf shoved the bottles into Fenris's hands and gave a dismissive grunt before taking his place beside the door and folding his arms. The expectations had been laid out. Fenris was to play servant.

“Of course,” he said, pouring her a tall drink in crystal glass. Although he could not read the label, the scent and script told him this was a Rivani rum, and it was probably a fine vintage at that.

As he handed her the glass, her long, pointed nails scratched along his fingers. He refused to react and instead stared hard into her kohl-rimmed eyes.

“Thank you, slave ,” she practically hissed.

“Most welcome, madam ,” he said. Her inability to overcome her slave roots would forever be a bone of contention for her. He accepted that he would always be a slave, but she would never be content until she threw off the final social shackle and became the lady of a prominent house.

He took his place with his back to the wall, flanking the door with Rolf. Judging by the light peeking through the window, it was a little past noon, and Danarius wouldn’t be home until well after dinner. This was going to be a long day.

----------

Another wave of nausea hit Ariana, and she closed her eyes to will it away. Although the Gereon carriage was better built than the one Danarius used, it couldn’t fully cushion her from the uneven dirt road.

“Shall I tell the driver to stop?” Felix asked, concern laced in his words.

“No, I would rather keep going. Anything to make this trip go faster.”

Felix chuckled. It was just the two of them in the carriage. His mother was riding with her friend, the other guest in the carriage ahead. As the queasiness subsided, Ariana reached into a small wax-lined pouch given to her by Meredith and popped a small peppermint candy onto her tongue. She had experienced motion sickness occasionally as a child, but it had come back in full force today.

“Would you like one?” she offered the bag to her companion.

“Mint? I will have to pass. I once made myself sick on a bowl of Adrian’s famous mint and dark chocolate truffles. Since then, I can’t touch the stuff,” Felix answered with a lopsided grin.

“I will have to thank your mother for postponing this retreat for me,” Ariana said as she looked out the window and watched the grassy fields wave in the breeze.

“It wasn’t entirely for you,” Felix stated. “We’re headed to Lady Aquinea’s villa, and she demanded to wait for a shipment of Starkhaven whiskey and Orlesian wine to be delivered before her arrival.”

“Is that really why you had to wait?” She asked with wide eyes.

“Well, I also finished my studies at university for the term, so my mother is bringing me along as a winter holiday.”

“Sounds fun. What are you-” Ariana was interrupted by a shout and a sudden lurch that nearly threw her to the floor.

“What’s going on?!”

Felix pulled her down and motioned for her to stay quiet. He launched out of the carriage, but rather than the sounds of battle, she heard a loud, frustrated groan. The door opened, and he appeared exasperated. “A spoke broke on the wheel. We'll have to join my mother until we reach the inn.”

Ariana nodded and took Felix’s hand as she exited the carriage. She watched as large gray clouds rolled over the fields. The grass was mixed with the familiar scent of an oncoming storm. She hoped they would reach their destination by the time it began.

Soon afterward, she and Felix were crammed into the other carriage with his mother, Lady Aquinea, and an Orlesian noblewoman Ariana had never met. There was barely any room to move, but after sharing a single bed with two siblings most of her life, the tight space didn’t faze her. Lady Aquinea sat across from her and not so subtly complained about sharing space with a commoner. Arida glared at her friend but said nothing to her social superior. Despite her irritation, Ariana expertly smoothed her face to an expression of serenity and thought it would be a long ride.

--------

Ceres flipped the pages of a thin book and, with an irritated sigh, threw the leather-bound tome across the room.

“I’m bored!” she whined and dramatically collapsed onto the couch. “How can anyone stand this?!”

Fenris chose not to answer. She didn’t want his input; she just wanted to stir up drama. As he drew back into his mind, she was suddenly in front of him, eyes hazy from downing a bottle and a half of alcohol in a few hours.

“I know what’d be fun,” she giggled and ran her fingers along the lyrium brand on Fenris’ right arm.

“A glass of water?” Fenris asked, deadpan.

“No, silly! We’re going to go see ‘Rius!” she cooed.

“We can’t,” Fenris ground out and shook his head.

“Why not?” Ceres pouted and pressed her full chest against him.

“Very few people are allowed in,” he answered forcefully. “We could be arrested or punished, and that’s just by the other magisters. Who knows what Master Danarius would do if he found us himself.”

Ceres’s blue eyes showed a dangerous glint, and a chilling smile slowly tugged on her lips.

“’Rius would never hurt me ,” she said softly. “It sounds like the only one in danger would be you, and I can’t say that bothers me.”

Fenris remained silent, but the rage in his eyes told Ceres all she needed to know. She threw her head back and cackled in amusement. One movement, and it could be all over. Rolf was too far away to stop him. Fenris could reach up and break her pretty neck before Rolf killed him. For a moment, it almost seemed worth it. But like a good slave, he kept quiet and still.

An irritated tick formed at Ceres’ cheek, and her eyes narrowed at her boring playmate. “Go get ready. Now!” she ordered.

Soon after, she and Fenris stood in front of the massive fortress that was the magisterium. In the Towers Age, it had been the Circle of Magi of Minrathous. Since the Transfiguration it had been expanded and renovated to fit the entire political body of Tevinter. It was seven stories of golden brickwork. Dragons and Tevinter crests were carved into every eave and column. The black tiled roof gave the entire thing a macabre elegance. In the distance, clouds raced from the horizon, and Fenris wondered if Ariana was facing a storm of her own.

“Come on,” Ceres ordered, having sobered up in the carriage ride over.

With a confident bearing, she strode through the black pine doors held open by slack-jawed guards who watched mesmerized as Ceres passed by. Fenris kept his head bowed and followed her quickly. Her suggested ruse was that she would state that she was delivering a slave to the magisters above. The lower house was for largely ceremonial political dealings. The non-magical politicians were relegated here and kept the population content that they had a fair and judicious state. The real power lay above, though, where the magisters ruled with iron fists and the actual politicians were wheeling and dealing behind sealed doors.

This first part was easy. Although many people openly stared at Fenris with his dusky skin and white brands, no one knew who he was or who owned him. All they saw was a slave they knew they couldn’t afford. When they reached the magic-infused elevators that reached the topmost levels of the building, they ran into a roadblock.

“Pleeeeaaaaseee,” Ceres pouted to the man who guarded the elevator doors.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but no clearance means no entry,” he stated gruffly.

“I have clearance. I just seem to have left it at home,” she purred, peering up at the burly man through thick eyelashes.

“That’s not something I can help you with,” he said with a shrug.

“Perhaps, but maybe there is something I can help you with,” she giggled and lifted the layers of her skirt. She pressed herself against his large body and ground herself against his thigh.

“I…I..” he stammered.

She reached up to push a thick lock of black hair behind his ear, and Fenris noticed the almost imperceptible way in which the guard turned to inhale the scent on her wrist deeply.

“Maybe just this once,” the guard mumbled.

“Thank you!” she said brightly and shoved him away. While he blinked in surprise, she had already hauled Fenris into the elevator, and then they were moving upwards.

“I do what I have to,” Ceres said after a few minutes. Fenris looked over to see that she was staring hard at the painted mural splayed along the back of the elevator. It depicted some victory of the First Exalted March, but the details were meaningless to him. Finally, she glared at Fenris as though expecting some response, but he refused to give her the satisfaction. When the doors opened to the top floor, she pushed out ahead of him and marched down the hallway. Within minutes, though, it was clear that they were lost. After an hour, Fenris was finally fed up. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” he snarled as Ceres took them down another stone corridor with no end in sight.

“Shut up, slave!” she snapped. “I just need to get my bearings.”

“You never had any to begin with,” he growled quietly, but he realized she had heard him by the stiffening of her back.

“Why, you little-” she whirled around before her eyes lifted, and a beautiful grin broke on her face like the dawn. “’Rius!”

“What have we here?” Danarius inquired, and Fenris heard heavy footsteps approach from behind. Between Ceres, who looked wickedly pleased with herself, and Danarius, who tsked in irritation, Fenris was well and truly trapped. Unable to bear looking at Ceres any longer, he finally turned to Danarius and saw a face like thunder glaring down at him.

“I said, ‘What have we here?’” Danarius repeated slowly, his gaze flickering between the two.

“It was Fenris’ idea!” Ceres said triumphantly. “I was content to wait at the manor for you, but he wanted to come here right away!”

“Oh really?” Danarius asked, bemused at the audacity of Ceres. It was a bald-faced lie, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to punish his mistress. Instead, he turned to Fenris, who didn’t even bother to plead for mercy, and said, “What a naughty boy you are.”

Red mana flared, and Fenris screamed as his brands lit up like wildfire. He fell to his knees, fingers digging into the thick carpet, and clenched his teeth as the waves refused to relent. Glimpsing from the corner of his eye, he saw Ceres looking positively orgasmic at his suffering. As he lost consciousness, he comforted himself with the image of standing over her broken body as her heart beat for the last time in his hands. 

--------

By sunset, the clouds had covered the entire sky, and rain began falling in fat droplets. The Aquinea carriage pulled up to an inn, and the ladies practically fell on each other, trying to be the first one out. Felix was the only one who stayed back. He knew better than to get in their way. There was still a day’s journey to Lady Aquinea’s estate, and Ariana prayed her carriage would be fixed by morning. The stuffy air of the crowded carriage had not helped her stomach, and her mints were already gone.

The inn was filled with travelers from throughout Tevinter. A boisterous game of dice was played in the far corner. There were even grey wardens from Weisshaupt sharing an ale at the counter. Although they hadn’t been in Ferelden to stop the blight, patrons were buying them drink after drink to celebrate the Archdemon’s fall.

Lady Arida’s guard escorted them to a small parlor off the common area. It was separated from the common area by doors with stained glass panes depicting cascading flowers to obscure outside eyes. The room was filled with overstuffed chairs surrounding a massive fireplace, and the flames illuminated golden cranes stitched into the floor-length curtains. At the center of the room was a round carved walnut card table. Lady Aquinea sat down, facing the women with a glimmer in her eyes. The other ladies took seats around her, and she ordered a round of brandy with a snap of her fingers. She motioned for her guard to approach, and he produced a deck of cards. With a wolfish smile, she looked at the other ladies and asked, “Fancy a game?”

The ladies played long into the night. Ariana picked at the lamb dinner that was at her right elbow. She didn’t feel like eating. Her wine glass was empty, but only because she ignored it long enough for Aquinea to claim it as her own. Although it was well past midnight, none of the ladies were tired. Arida and Mademoiselle Moulin had folded long ago but couldn’t tear themselves away from the game. It was down to Ariana and Aquinea, and their game had slowly grown more intense as the stakes grew higher. Aquinea had come into this with a mountain of riches, riches that were now sitting in front of Ariana. Aquinea had nothing left at the final hand, but she refused to back down. She pulled a ruby brooch off her dress, the gem the size of a chicken egg, and placed it into the center of the table with the last of her gold. With a triumphant flourish, she spread out her winning hand. “Angels over kings! I believe I have won this game.”

Ariana stopped her with a soft cough as she began to scoop up the pile of gold and gems. “I’m afraid not, my lady. I have four drakes.” Lady Aquinea looked like she might explode from anger when she laid the cards down. With a respectful bow, Ariana gathered her winnings into a large leather pouch, which Aquinea’s guard provided her, and bid the other ladies goodnight. As she passed, she did not see that Mikael was fighting back with a huge grin.

By the time she reached her room, Ariana could hardly keep her eyes open. The mental gymnastics and hoop jumping left her exhausted. A loud, authoritative knock sounded at her door as soon as her gown hit the floor. She gathered her robe up to cover the thin slip she wore and cracked the door open slowly to see Aquinea glaring at her from the darkness of the hallway. The older woman didn’t ask permission as she pushed Ariana back and shut the door behind her.

“Name your price,” Aquinea snapped, her breath reeked of alcohol.

“I’m sorry?” Ariana replied, confused.

Aquinea rolled her eyes and sighed like she was dealing with a dimwitted child. “Your price. You must have one. That brooch was a family heirloom, and I must have it back.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have gambled with it then,” Ariana pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Aquinea’s face contorted with rage, but just as quickly as it appeared, it smoothed to a deceptive calm that demonstrated the breeding and refinement that created her. “Regardless. I want it back.” With a tilt of her head, Aquinea examined Ariana as though calculating her offers. “I will gift you one of my lovers in exchange.”

Ariana sputtered and took a step back. “Excuse me?!”

“You are the wife of Danarius. Your love life must be lacking if I’m any judge of the man. It’s not uncommon for wealthy couples in Tevinter to have lovers. Danarius himself has a mistress.”

Ariana felt a wave of bitterness at that confirmation. She had always expected he had someone else. This feeling was confirmed after their encounter with Ceres at the slave market. Her issue was not that Danarius had a mistress or even that Ceres was a horrible person. No, it was because Danarius could explore his passions outside their marriage, and she would be punished for doing so. Besides, the lover she wanted was already home. She didn’t need Aquinea’s leftovers.

“No, it’s quite alright,” she said with her chin held high.

“I insist! I have one in mind already. He’s a former gladiator named Augustus. He’s not as experienced as some of my other men, but his stamina makes up for it.”

Ariana shook her head frantically, prompting a frustrated growl from Aquinea. “What do you want then?!”

Lightning flashed outside, and rain began to pelt the window. A loud drumming soon followed as the drops pattered on the roof. She found herself suddenly homesick for Lothering, where rain was common. She fell asleep many nights nestled between Bethany and Carver, lulled to sleep by the sound. A trip, even for just a short while, back home was what she really wanted.

“I want a vacation,” Ariana finally said.

“Explain,” Aquinea snapped, an order rather than a request.

“I know you and your family cruise the Nocen Sea year-round. Give me a letter of requisition in your name to be given to the shipyard so that I might take my voyage.”

“Why doesn’t your husband just take you on one?” Aquinea asked, brow furrowing.

With a beleaguered sigh, Ariana motioned to the gown carefully hung over the back of the chair. “You’ve seen how he dresses me. Danarius is not one for luxuries when it comes to his wife.” The words felt petulant and sickly in her mouth, but they seemed to satisfy the other woman.

“Yes, I have seen how he does the bare minimum for a man of his station. Alright, my dear, I’ll have the note for you by morning. You may travel anywhere your heart desires.”

“Thank you, Lady Aquinea,” Ariana said reverently as she handed over the ruby brooch. When her guest had finally left, she locked the door, leaped onto her bed, and squealed for delight in her pillow. A taste of freedom was within her grasp.

By morning, the weather had improved. The sun peeked through the dark clouds as though chasing them across the sky. Ariana woke to a gentle rapping at her door, and she staggered over to see Mikael standing at attention on the other side. Taking in the sight of her, he blinked slowly.

“Are you alright, mistress?” he asked. She was extremely pale.

She groaned and shoved him out of the way as she dashed down the hallway to the bathroom. He hurriedly followed her, but she slammed the door in his face, and he heard the sound of retching. With a great shake of his head, he leaned against the wall and waited. Almost five minutes later, he heard water splashing from the basin, and she sheepishly poked her head out.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Has the food been disagreeable to you, mistress?” Mikael inquired as he fell a step behind her.

“That lamb smelled strange,” she admitted. “I could hardly eat two bites.”

He arched an eyebrow. He and Lady Aquinea’s guard had split the dish after the women left the table for the night, and it was delicious.

“The innkeeper said that one of the Grey Wardens used to be a carpenter so that he could repair the wheel. You’ll be able to lay down in the carriage.”

Ariana couldn’t stop the sheer relief on her face. “Wonderful!”

Mikael excused himself to see the preparations, and Ariana dressed herself in the color of spring grass. Small pink flowers were embroidered along the hem of the skirt and encircled the long bell-shaped sleeves. She felt renewed when she entered the parlor to join the other ladies.

“I hope you slept well, child,” Arida said gently.

“I did, thank you. The mattress was like a cloud,” Ariana replied, sitting beside her friend. Her mouth watered as a plate of food was placed before her. It was a slice of quiche with spinach and ham. She eagerly dug in like she hadn’t been kneeling in the bathroom half an hour ago.

“A cloud? More like a slab of marble,” Aquinea huffed. She wasn’t eating breakfast, but she drank spicy tomato juice. Ariana recognized it as the same cure Meredith had sent Danarius after his night of excess.

“I ‘sought eet waz satisfactoree,” Lady Moulin said quietly in a thick Orlesian accent. It was the first time Ariana had heard her speak.

Aquinea rolled her eyes, finished her drink, and stood up abruptly.

“I’m ready to depart,” she announced, and breakfast was over.

------

              The day passed by in a blur for Ariana. She spent most of it lying down in the carriage, napping. Felix didn’t mind as he read a thick book on magical theory. Just after sunset, she woke up to a gentle nudge on her shoulders and saw Felix crouching at eye level.

“We’re here,” he said and helped her to her feet.

              Her breath caught in her throat when she stepped out of the carriage. The villa had three stories of snow-white alabaster, columns at every corner, and dark vines of jasmine wound up the sheer surface. It was too late in the year for blooms, but Ariana could imagine the heady scent in the air. Suddenly, she wished Fenris were there, and they could stroll in the gardens. She never saw him in Danarius’ Garden anymore, not for weeks now. A twelve-foot fence of wrought iron surrounded the estate. A vast black gate with the crest of the Pavus house at its center was swinging shut behind their carriage. She wondered if she’d see Dorian or anyone else she knew this week.

“He’s not here,” Felix said in response to her unspoken curiosity. “Dorian is with my father, studying a new type of magic.”

“Sounds exciting,” she said and looked at him expectantly.

“Sorry, mum’s the word,” he winked, and she shook her head in mock outrage.

“I thought I was special,” she whined playfully.

Felix grabbed her hand and squeezed it quickly before dropping it again. “You are special.”

As they walked from the carriage, the sparkling white stones crunching under their feet, he suddenly stopped. “Have you been practicing your magic?” he asked.

“I have,” she answered. “It’s harder when Danarius is home, but I’ve done my best to keep my skills sharp.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a relieved smile. “It’s important to be prepared.”

As they entered the villa, a housemaid immediately swept Ariana up the stairs and into an opulent room. Heavy burgundy brocade hung from the cherry wood canopy bed, a mountain of down-filled comforters was piled high, and a ceramic basin sat by the vanity with blissfully warm water. Ariana chuckled to herself as she washed her hands. She felt that Lady Aquinea would treat her much better for the rest of the trip.

--------

Ariana had to remind herself never to accept an invitation to Lady Aquinea’s villa for a vacation again. Several more women from Orlais, Teviter, Free Marches, a Nevarran countess, and the modest party Ariana had traveled with were in attendance. She found that most of the events revolved around drinking, killing, or sex. There was a nightly card game, but after the incident at the inn, Ariana opted not to play. She would have a hard enough time hiding the money from Danarius as it was, and she didn’t need to add to it. The alcohol smelled terrible, so she refused to partake. She didn’t hunt, so she sometimes found herself alone in the manor while the others went out. Lastly, there were nightly wrestling matches between the most attractive slaves, and the winners were invited to share beds with the prominent party quests. Ariana chose to sleep by herself instead.

So, for two weeks, she sat and idly participated in the conversation, strolled through the garden so many times she could make it through blindfolded, and tried very hard not to do anything Danarius would be angry about later. Her patience was rewarded on the morning of the fifteenth day when Lady Arida and Felix departed to Tevinter ahead of the others. Felix needed to get back to school, and Arida was exhausted from the bacchanal excess of Aquinea’s gathering. After weeks of being on her best behavior, Ariana fell asleep almost immediately after the carriage cleared the gate.

Around noon, Ariana woke with a start and sat straight up. Her cheek bore the imprint of Felix’s shoulder seams. If it weren’t for Arida dozing across from her, she might feel embarrassed. She turned to look outside her window. The sky was overcast, and a light rain was falling. The thick line of trees alongside the road was packed so tightly she couldn’t see far into the dark forest.

“I’m going to take this personally after a while,” Felix chided. “I’m running out of books to read.”

She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, feeling a satisfying pop from her back. “I should have brought a book myself. Perhaps it would stop me from napping all the time.”

“I could lend you one of mine.”

“I’ve seen your books, and I’ll politely decline. I’m into more stimulating subject matter.”

Felix snorted, “Yes, I saw that book you gave my mother. ‘Swords and Shields’ it’s just so…terrible.”

Ariana’s eyes widened, and she held her hand over her heart as she gasped in mock fury, “How dare you, ser! Those books are national treasures and should be afforded the respect they deserve. No matter how true your statement is.”

Felix laughed; the sound was low and warm. Arida was startled awake and sleepily glared at her son.

“What are you on about now, young man?” she huffed.

He didn’t get to answer.

As she turned to look at Felix, Ariana saw a monstrous creature breaking from the treeline and barreling down on the carriage. She barely managed a scream before the impact rocked them from their seats. A loud roar rattled the glass, and she saw even more of them pouring from between the trees like ants from a hill.

“Darkspawn!” The driver bellowed, and he sent up a flare to signal they were in distress.

“Get down!” Felix ordered and cast protective magic around the carriage. Ariana could hear the driver and Arida’s three guards fighting the monsters outside her door. Arida swept her up in a protective embrace and held her tight.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she murmured. “Everything will be alright.”

Ariana nodded even though she knew that those words were hollow. She had seen what the darkspawn did in Ferelden. She held no illusions that the monsters in Tevinter were any tamer.

The glass above her head exploded, and the wood splintered as the door was wrenched open. She smelled it before she saw it. The scent of sickness and death came on hot breaths in the instant before taloned fingers grabbed Lady Arida and tore her from Ariana’s arms.

“No!” Ariana cried out, but the darkspawn had already returned to the forest.

“Mother!” Felix screamed as he vaulted over Ariana and broke into a run, but he couldn’t keep up. When he reached the trees, he froze underneath the boughs of a massive pine and stared up at the trunk. A few moments later, a loud crunch sounded, followed by a downpour of blood coated his entire body. He collapsed to his knees and roared in anguish.

A piercing screech sounded from Ariana’s right, and a lithe darkspawn with wicked-looking blades on its wrists descended on her. One blade went through the window, showering her in broken glass. She covered her face as shards cut her flesh, followed by sharp metal sinking into her side and tearing upwards from hip to shoulder. Her blood gushed down her leg, and her head swam from the pain. Felix was now engaged with opponents of his own and couldn’t help. The guards and driver were silent – they couldn’t help her either.

The darkspawn reared back opened its narrow jaw and emitted a shriek worthy of its name. It almost knocked Ariana back, but this time, she was ready. If she died, she would die fighting. She raised her hands and sent a wall of ice hurtling towards the monster. To her shock, the crystalline fragments pierced its thick skull, and it slumped to the ground. Before she could breathe, the ones that had engaged Felix were now bearing down on her. She staggered from the blood loss, her head swam through murky water, but she still channeled the last of her strength into a single spell. She had one chance to live.

-------

Fenris stood by as Ceres sat perched on Danarius’ lap. Even without the ability to read, he found the gold lettering on a nearby book much more fascinating than the loud moans and rhythmic undulations of Ceres’ body.

A sudden, loud, frantic banging on the front door piqued his attention. Danarius and Ceres hadn’t noticed and continued to vocalize their enjoyment of each other. A few moments later, he heard a shuffling, and his hand shot up to prevent the library door from opening fully. Shocked, he saw Selvig’s face pale and terrified, looking back at him.

“It’s the mistress…”

-------

“Blasted hacksaw wielding third rate backwoods quacks!” Danarius roared as he threw a chair across the room. It exploded in a hail of splinters, which he promptly set on fire.

Normally, Fenris would be exasperated with his mercurial master, but his mind was blank this time. It had been a darkspawn attack. Lady Arida was dead, Felix was sickened with some taint, and Ariana…

“What is all this ruckus?!” An equally angry voice boomed. “Healers are trying to work here.”

Heavy footsteps approached, and Fenris came face to face with the largest man he’d ever seen. Almost three heads taller than him, the man had to bend down to enter the doorway. His robes were blood red, denoting a high-ranking healer and priest.

“Your healers ,” Danarius spat. “You have been working on my wife for hours. If we were in Minrathous, she would have been fixed within minutes.”

The priest folded his arms and took stock of Danarius. His jaw was covered in a well-manicured beard, and a comically small pair of glasses were perched on his aquiline nose. “You must be Danarius. The young woman’s husband.”

“Guilty as charged,” Danarius sneered. “Now, when will she be fit to return to the city? The sooner we leave this Maker-forsaken village, the better.”

“She will stay one night,” the priest said, indicating this was not up for negotiation. “She is just coming out of surgery…she…has lost a lot of blood.”

“I’ll be stuck in this interminable sinkhole for a night?” Danarius murmured and ran a hand over his face.

“There is an inn not far from here. I’m sure you’ll find lodgings,” the priest said coldly. “I’ll send someone to collect you when she’s ready.”

He returned to the ward without another glance, leaving Fenris and Danarius alone.

Fenris had to fetch Danarius a new chair since the only one available was a smoldering ruin. As Danarius leaned back in the simple pine chair, his face contorted with pain.

“How do people stand this?” he complained. “There is no cushion! It doesn’t conform to my spine! It’s practically Avaar with its inelegance – Are you even listening to me?!”

Fenris had been staring at the door the priest had left through. He wondered where Ariana was right now, if she was out of surgery if the healers were tending to her, and if she was alright. He would give anything to pace, but with Danarius in the room glaring at him with bared teeth, his feet were rooted to the spot.

“I always listen, Master,” Fenris answered carefully.

Satisfied, Danarius sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, his eyes sliding closed.

“She better not have a scar,” he said absently. “I might have to get rid of her then.”

“What?” Fenris exclaimed, turning to look at him.

“I enjoy having a pretty, if not a little plain, face around the house. However, she still has not given me an heir and my generosity has an end. Tragically, I won’t be able to get much for her if she’s damaged goods, but I’m sure I can find somewhere to put her.”

A familiar hum throbbed through Fenris in time with his heartbeat. He clenched his fist to will away the sensations, but his brands began to glow. One strike—just one to end the suffering of him and Ariana. Just as he took a step forward, the door to the surgical ward opened, and a bright-eyed young acolyte bounded into the room. Like snuffing out a fire, Fenris stopped the channeling, and his brands dulled to ice white.

“She’s ready!” The woman called out in a singsong voice. “She’s still asleep from the medicine, but you can see her now.”

They were led down a brightly lit hallway that reeked of antiseptic. Soft sounds of crying and last rights to his left made Fenris shudder . ‘It isn’t Ariana. It isn’t Ariana,’ he mentally chanted.

“We gave her the best room. It’s not often we have a magister’s wife as a patient!” she chirped when they arrived at the wooden door with a wreath of roses carved in it.

“Charming, I’m sure,” Danarius purred with a lascivious look at the young woman no older than sixteen.

Suppressing a groan of disgust, Fenris cracked open the door and went inside, leaving Danarius to his new target. He resisted the urge to close and lock the door because all he wanted right now was a few precious minutes alone. Instead, when his eyes adjusted to the lower light, he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Ariana lay in a large hospital bed, her skin as pale as the sheets. Her golden hair was splayed out on the pillows, and chillingly, he still saw clumps of crimson-dried blood.

“We haven’t been able to clean her up properly,” the woman sheepishly said as she pushed into the room to escape Danarius’s attention. “We knew how badly you wanted to see her.”

Fenris remained silent, but Danarius scoffed and approached the bed. He was examining Ariana like she were an animal at an auction. Fenris also took the opportunity to get closer, standing at the foot of the bed. He gently touched the blankets beside her feet, but nothing more.

Danarius hummed disapprovingly as he picked up her bloodied hair. He grasped her chin and lifted her head to get a closer look. “At least her face is intact,” he said finally before unceremoniously dropping her like a stone. She did not wake even as her head bounced on the pillow.

“Yes, the damage was mostly to her right side. There was glass from the carriage door and some kind of weapon,” the woman said softly. “We’ve been working on her since last night…we almost lost her a few times too.”

“Hmm, call me when she’s cleaned up and awake,” Danarius said placidly. “Let’s go, Fenris.”

The woman stared at him, mouth agape at his callousness, but she said nothing.

Fenris gripped the end of the bed, and the groan of the wood bending under his fingers sounded through the room.

“Fenris?” Danarius queried, but Fenris felt the threat in the words. What are you doing? Why are you defying me?

“Where. Is. The. Elf?” Fenris snarled.

“I-I’m sorry?” the woman asked, surprised.

“The elf! Her guard, who should have been with her at the carriage…where is he?” Fenris repeated slowly.

“There was no one with her except the young Lord Gereon,” the woman whispered.

Fenris locked eyes with Danarius, and for a split second, there was clarity, an understanding between them.

“Oh…that won’t do at all,” Danarius said with a sinister smile curling his lips. “He will be found.” 

He strode past the woman who looked at her shoes as though she wanted to sink into the floor. Fenris knew his place, and with a last longing glance, he fell in step behind his master. In another world, he wouldn’t leave Ariana’s side, but absent of that choice, finding Mikael and getting some answers had to be the next best thing.

As they stepped into the evening air, Fenris took a deep breath to clear his lungs from the acrid scent of death and cleansers. “Let’s get out of this place,” Danarius sighed. “I need a meal and a bath.”

The inn was called “Her Lady’s Garden.” Not an hour later, Danarius had requisitioned the largest and finest room. It encompassed the entire third floor and was usually reserved for bridal nights. Danarius sat on a plush purple couch, dabbed his lips with a silken napkin, and waited as Fenris poured a glass of wine for him and his guest.

“Chateau Moulin Pinot Noir?” Danarius nodded to indicate the glass across from him. “It’s a small vineyard in Orlais, but I’m told it’s quite good.”

“No, thank you, ser,” his guest answered with a polite wave. This was the captain of the guard and the man who had dealt with the chaos. His medium-sized frame was covered from crown to toe in gleaming armor. He wore his badge of office with pride, but he seemed uneasy even in the presence of a magister.

“I wanted to ask about the woman brought in from the wilderness. Her carriage had been attacked by darkspawn,” Danarius began, his eyes burning into the captain. “I have since become…aware of another missing person.”

“Another, sir?” the captain asked with a furrowed brow. “My men went to the site of the attack straight away and combed it.”

“There was an…elf…” Danarius began but faltered. He’d never paid more attention to the slaves than he had to.

“My master is right,” Fenris interjected smoothly, recovering what face Danarius might have lost. “There was an elf, a Dalish, who accompanied my mistress. He was my height, with long red hair and green tattoos.”

“There was no such person,” the captain said with a shake. “When we arrived, we found your mistress and the young Lord barely alive. The bodies of Lady Arida, the driver, and three human guards were there as well.”

“How did Ariana survive?” Danarius asked sharply.

“The Grey Wardens saved her,” the guard answered. “There were two of them. They said they felt the darkspawn presence, and when they arrived, your wife was pinned to a tree fighting them off.”

Fenris’ jaw dropped, and Danarius sat back in his chair.

“I hardly think my wife is capable of fighting off a rabid dog, much less a darkspawn,” Danarius said mockingly.

“From what the Wardens had said, you would have been proud of her,” the captain said passionately, his hand raised in clenched fist. “She held her own for who knows how long. Only when the Wardens dispatched them did she finally collapse.”

“It is a story I’m eager to hear about when she can tell me,” Danarius stated. “Thank you, captain. Your help is greater than you know.”

Sensing his dismissal, the captain gave a half bow and left Danarius to his thoughts.

“So, the elven slave hightailed it to save his hide as his mistress lay dying,” Danarius said as he rolled the stem of the wineglass between his fingers. Fenris watched the dark ripples and felt the hairs on the back of his arms stand up. The alarm bells were starting to ring in his mind.

“You’re all alike!” Danarius hissed and threw the glass at Fenris’ head. As a faithful, dutiful slave, Fenris did not move, and the glass crashed against his forehead. He closed his eyes as tiny shards cut the skin of his scalp, and a fragment sliced his cheek. A mixture of blood and wine ran rivulets down his neck, and suddenly, Danarius was in front of him.

“You’re all lying traitorous worms. I should count myself lucky that he ran, although he could have done much more. I must ask my dear wife what else has happened. All slaves are animals, and maybe I will find that he mounted her like one while she was away. She’s just the same as you are.”

Fenris felt his throat close off, and his eyes darkened to a tunnel. It was as though he was choking, but Danarius still hadn’t laid a hand on him. Instead, the magister was raving and frothing at the mouth.

“How dare you! HOW DARE YOU! You who defy me at every turn. Watching, scowling, your eyes are always on me, always waiting to seize your perfect opportunity.”

Danarius pulled a dagger from his robes, the same one he used for sacrifices - a gift from the Archon, and laid the gleaming blade against Fenris’ jugular. The artery fluttered to match Fenris’ pounding heart; the edge of the blade scratched him with each beat. The last time Danarius had lost his mind this way, he killed three slaves, but Fenris was the only one in the room.

“Tell me, Fenris,” Danarius said unearthly calmly. “What do you call a slave that betrays their master?”

Fenris parted his lips but found his mouth did not want to cooperate. Danarius’ eyes flashed, and the dagger was pressed into his neck. A searing, hot pain followed by the slick feeling of Danarius’ fingers coated in his blood filled his senses, and he faltered again.

“What is a slave that betrays their master?!” Danarius roared and rewound his arm for another strike.

“Dead! They are dead!” Fenris answered when his mouth finally obeyed his orders. “Any slave that betrays their master is dead fit only to feed the rats and flies.”

Danarius finally sighed, relieved, and pat Fenris on the head, almost affectionately. His bloody fingers raked through Fenris’ white hair, leaving a red trail in their wake.

“I need some relief tonight, little wolf,” He murmured. “But I’m afraid that it won’t be you. Find an elf that looks like Mikael, and then get yourself cleaned up. I want you back here at breakfast.”

“And if the mistress wakes up?” Fenris asked quietly.

“She will have to wait to see me, too,” he answered. “I will need my rest after my indulgences.”

“Your will, Master,” Fenris said with a bow and retreated from the room. It took him until nightfall to find the entertainment Danarius sought, but he managed to find it. The bright-faced young Soporati had no tattoos, but it was a minor detail that Fenris knew Danarius would excuse. The elven mage was so delighted to be given a fat coin purse he didn’t ask many questions as Fenris led him up to the third floor.

“Have a good evening,” Fenris said mechanically as he shut the door. When the lock clicked into place, he ran down the stairs and crashed into the wall of the bottom landing as he made for the back door. Once outside, he hit the railing to the stairs and proceeded to vomit into the grass below. He stood retching for several minutes, hating himself and trying not to think of what was happening in Danarius’ room. His self-loathing was like a gaping maw that threatened to swallow him whole, and he fought the urge to turn a blade on himself. Instead, he rinsed his mouth from a horse trough and kept going – as he always had and always would.

He used the communal bathing quarters in the inn to wash his hair and clean the blood and wine from his skin. He didn’t want to take a full shower. He tried to get out of the building as soon as possible. Typically, when this happened, he would get a corner of the slave quarters of the inn and just sleep until it was time to wake his master. This time was different, though. He had somewhere that he wanted to be, and his feet propelled him to the small hospital and Ariana.

When he entered, the same young woman from earlier was at the counter to greet the patrons.

“Oh! It’s you, ser,” she said, her eyes darting around to see if Danarius was with him.

“I come alone,” Fenris answered her unspoken questions. “I’m under orders by my master to check on the mistress and guard her until morning.”

The excuse sounded weak to him, but she seemed content with it as she motioned for him to head down the hallway. He practically flew down the corridor. As he neared the door, he slowed his steps. He knew he was crossing a line, but in his heart, he knew he could do nothing else. Opening the heavy door just enough to sidle in, he snuck inside and gently shut it behind him. The room was illuminated by the warm glow of a lantern just beside Ariana’s bed. She was still ghastly pale but bathed, and her golden hair gleamed in the light. Carefully, he removed his gauntlet and caressed her cheek. Her cool skin felt refreshing against his overheated fingers.

“If I had been with you…” he murmured before letting his hand drop. He wouldn’t have run. He would have taken on the entire horde to keep her safe.

He looked to the door and listened intently for the sounds of approaching footsteps but found only silence. Carefully, he lowered his face until his lips gently brushed hers. They were petal-soft and the color of roses.

“Fenris?”

He leaped back from the bed and saw Ariana’s impossibly blue eyes gazing at him with tired confusion.

“Am I in heaven?” she inquired and reached out her hand to him. He grasped it tight without hesitation and knelt by the bed to be at eye level with her.

“No,” he answered. “But I’m no longer in hell now that you’re awake.”

She gave him a bitter smile and turned her face away. “Dreaming then. Why else would you be here?”

“Because when I thought I’d lost you, I thought I’d lose my mind. Perhaps I did, but one moment with you is what might make me sane once more.” His eyes were glassy from tears that refused to spill. “Don’t do that to me again, Ariana. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“Oh, Fenris,” she sighed. “If a moment is all we get, let’s spend it well.”

He stood and pressed his lips against hers; her hands came up and tangled in his still-damp hair.

“I’ve missed you,” he confessed when they broke apart. “I’m sorry for running away.”

“It was for the best,” she said sadly. “Danarius would have killed us if he found out. The less we’re together, the safer we’ll be.”

He sighed and entwined his fingers with hers, “I just want you to know that I-.”

The door suddenly flung open, and a young male healer entered the room carrying a tray of salves and bandages. Fenris just barely managed to step back before the intruder looked up.

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting her ladyship to have a visitor,” he said uneasily.

“My Master asked me to check on the mistress,” Fenris lied easily. “He is indisposed, and there may be another who has desires to hurt her.”

“Truly? Well, that is quite concerning, but rest assured! We have some of the finest soldiers in the village guarding our wards.”

“What do you need, sir?” Ariana asked. Fenris gently held her up and stuffed pillows behind her as she struggled to sit up. She gave him a shy smile, which was not unnoticed by the healer.

“I came to check on your wounds and give you an exam,” he answered, glancing between the two. “Everything happened so quickly that we hardly had time to check for any injuries beyond what was apparent.”

“I feel fine,” Ariana said. “I am a healer, so whatever was missed, I can care for myself.”

“The head priest has explicitly told us that we need to do our utmost to care for you!” he said with a desperate look. “Your husband would be insistent on such thoroughness.”

Ariana sighed in frustration and lay back in the bed. Even though he was far away, Danarius’s presence was in every part of her life.

“Go ahead.”

With a relieved look, the healer set down his tray and began his examination.

Fenris stood by the bed, arms folded, and watched the man like a hawk.

“A sprained ankle, it seems.” The man muttered as he gently ran his hand over the swollen joint and poured his healing mana into it. Ariana winced as the pressure was relieved but gave Fenris a reassuring look. “Three bruised ribs, one broken…”

After a thorough exam, the healer sat back with sweat on his brow. He had healed every minor injury, and Ariana had to admit she felt much better.

“That is that!” he said with a small clap of triumph. “Now you just need to regain the blood you’ve lost. I prescribe lots of water, good food, and rest.”

“Thank you, ser,” Ariana smiled. “I feel much better already.”

“I’m glad, and I’m also delighted to say that the child is quite healthy!” he beamed as he gathered his tools.

It was as though all the air had been kicked out of Ariana, and she gasped like a fish out of water. “What did you say?”

The healer blinked in surprise. “You’re pregnant, my lady. Did you not know?”

“No, no, I didn’t know,” she whispered and buried her face in her hands. He had done it. Danarius had finally gotten his wish.

Sensing that something was wrong, the healer sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry if the news is a shock, my lady. You are young, but I assure you that you and the child are well despite the attack.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. Fenris stared blankly at the wall. Ariana being pregnant with Danarius’ spawn again was a reality he knew would happen, but it felt like it was already too soon.

“When will the baby be born?” Ariana asked, her voice hollow.

“Oh, that’s not an exact science, but let me see….”

The healer’s warm hands gently touched her stomach. His fingers pressed just below her belly button, and a warm blue light covered her skin.

“Well, you’re still quite early, but I’m certain your child will be born in summer. Late Ferventis or early Solis,” he said confidently.

“Th-thank you!” Ariana croaked, and the healer nodded politely before leaving.

Ariana felt her heart thundering; her face had gone hot. She looked to Fenris, who was deathly pale. He had done the math, too.

The baby was his.

Chapter Text

As soon as the door shut, Fenris sat on the bed and stared vacantly at the wall.

A child…his child. He had never thought he would have a child. He never wanted one since it would be born into slavery and die a slave.

“It was one time…,” he groaned and hung his head.

“Once is all it takes,” Ariana replied quietly. From the corner of his eye, he saw that her hands rested on her belly.

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” he admitted, frustrated at his weakness.

“It’s alright, Fenris,” Ariana murmured. “This is not something you need to bother yourself with. I will handle it.”

“No!” he shouted, grabbing one of her pale hands into his tanned ones. “I watched you wither away and almost die alone last time. I can’t let that happen again. I won’t!”

“What are you going to do then, Fenris?” Ariana asked grimly. “It’s not like we can pass this child off as Danarius’ when it is born.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I will give my life to keep you safe.”

Ariana’s shoulders trembled, and she broke down into tears at his admission. Gently, Fenris lifted her chin and kissed her reverently. Until just before dawn, she lay in his arms and fell into the deepest sleep she’d had in months. Fenris gently traced a circle on the flat plane of her stomach as she slept. His child was in there, and that thought brought out the most primal protective part of himself.

When the first pale rays of dawn peeked through the cobalt glass windows, he gave her a final kiss on the cheek and stood from the bed. Silently, to not wake her, he pulled on his gauntlets and attempted to discreetly leave the room, only to come face to face with the head priest from the day before.

“I see her ladyship’s husband has seen fit to visit her finally,” the priest rumbled dryly.

“No, ser,” Fenris stated. “My Master is still at the inn. He sent me to check on her.

The priest looked up to see the bed next to Ariana was rumpled as though someone had just climbed out of it.

“Please excuse me,” Fenris muttered and sidled past the mountain of a man. There was no reply, and Fenris sped from the hospital to the inn where Danarius had spent the night indulging his blood lust. The cut on his throat throbbed as he stared at the beautiful bridal door that led to hell. After taking a steadying breath, he rapped on the door three times with his armored knuckles. A few moments passed before Danarius’ relaxed voice called out to him. “Come in.”

The room was nothing short of a war zone. Fingernail marks crisscrossed across the floor where someone desperately scrambled for their life. The floors, walls, and ceiling were covered in blood. Fenris refused to look at the bed, but he couldn’t help but see the skinless leg of the Mikael analog hanging off the end, a broken leather restraint dangled covered in dried viscera trailing on the ground.

“This is the fate of those who betray me and my house,” Danarius said with a deceptively warm smile. “Take heed of that little wolf.”

Danarius was the perfect picture of composure, with no carnage on his robes or skin. He stood and picked an imaginary speck of dirt from his collar before casting one last amused look to the bed.

“I think I’m ready to visit my wife now,” he sighed contentedly.

As was the custom, Danarius gave the innkeeper a fat sack of coins, the same one used to bribe the elf to cover the room's cost. Fenris refused to meet the old dwarf’s eyes even as he was bid a cheerful farewell. He knew that soon the smile would be wiped off that man’s face when he saw the damage that had been done.

He clung to the pole at the back of the carriage, and the driver barked for the twin black horses to move. Danarius’ carriage looked out of place for such a quaint village. The black wood and red curtains signaled something dark and sinister lay inside. A stone formed in the pit of Fenris’ stomach. Ariana had cried in his arm the night before, and he had no idea how she would act now face to face with her tormentor.

What he was expecting was not what he received. Ariana had been sat up in bed, and the bedding changed to a periwinkle blue, which complemented the color of her eyes. Her golden hair had been brushed until it glimmered, and she wore a white nightgown rather than a hospital shift. A pair of nurses stood at attention when Danarius swept into the room, and a gorgeous smile bloomed on Ariana’s face.

“I’m delighted to see you, husband,” she said softly.

“So I see,” he murmured and slowly stepped towards her. His movements were slow and deliberate, as though he were approaching a coiled snake.

“Did the healers give you the news?” she asked brightly.

“That you survived and will make a full recovery? Yes, I know that,” he replied with a dismissive tone.

“No! That I’m with child,” she said enthusiastically, placing her palm against her belly. Her head snapped to the nurses, and they hurried out of the room.

“What?” Danarius asked flatly. His eyes searched her face for any deception.

“Our efforts were not in vain, husband. I will bear us a healthy child in Matrinalis – perhaps even on All Souls Day!” she gushed; her face was pure joy.

“This is exceptional news!” Danarius enthused. “We shall have to celebrate when we get back to Minrathous.”

“The sooner we can leave, the better,” Ariana said with a beleaguered sigh. “I miss my furnishings already.”

“A sentiment I share, my dear,” Danarius said almost affectionately. “Fenris, fetch her ladyship’s belongings and put them in the carriage. We will leave within the hour.”

As Fenris turned, he caught Ariana’s eyes and saw a desperate glint in them. She was determined to survive, and this was the game she had decided to play. As he pushed open the doors to the outside, a bolt of lightning struck a tree nearby, and thunder boomed overhead like two mountains thrown together. It was a dangerous game indeed.

All that had been left of Ariana’s luggage was a small, locked trunk. The leather straps that held it to the Gereon carriage had been chewed off, but the rest remained intact. After ensuring it was firmly tied, Fenris returned to the room where Ariana failed to stand. Her right leg struggled to obey her, and she was still weak from the blood loss, making it hard for her to move on her own. A human orderly approached her, arms outstretched, when Fenris darted between them.

“I will take care of her,” he said gruffly. Gingerly, he placed one arm behind her back and swept her legs up with the other. He looked to Danarius with a blank expression. “I will protect you both.”

Several moments passed where Danarius seemed to be calculating something in his mind. His eyes darted between his favorite slave and pregnant wife. Luck was on their side, though, when he finally nodded and turned to lead them out of the room. “After the fiasco with her last guards, I should entrust my child to someone halfway competent,” he reflected. “I simply must express my displeasure to Ceres when we return.”

Fenris carried Ariana over the threshold like a bride, and she gently placed a kiss above his pointed ear. It was so quick and subtle that no one around them seemed to notice. Reflexively, he held her tighter but maintained his stoic visage as he stared at Danarius’ back. They would have to take things one day at a time, but one thing was sure in his mind now: he would not abandon her.

A nurse tucked Ariana into the carriage. She took up an entire bench, with pillows behind her back and the periwinkle comforter up to her waist. The temperature rapidly dropped, and the thunderstorm had quieted to a vicious downpour.

“Be well, m’lady, and congratulations!” the nurse chirped as she waved farewell.

Before Fenris could reach the door, Danarius pulled it shut, sealing him and Ariana inside and away from prying ears. When the carriage began to rumble away from the village, he glared at his wife.

“How long have you known?” he demanded.

“I found out when I awoke,” she replied, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it a woman’s intuition to know these things about their bodies?” he grilled.

“I am not one of those women,” she shrugged. “I’ve been so busy lately that I hadn’t even noticed my cycles had stopped.”

He sat back and drummed his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Matrinalis, you said?” he finally asked.

“Yes, the estimate isn’t exact, though, so it could be a bit later,” she answered readily.

“So, our weekend at home…” he trailed off with a perverse leer.

“Or perhaps that night at the theater,” she said with a serene smile. “Your arrow has finally claimed its target, husband.”

Danarius grinned like a fiend and asked no more about the conception of the child, satisfied with the answers for now.

That night, they arrived at the manor close to midnight. Orana and Selvig stood at the entrance, with Orana bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. Danarius exited the carriage first and walked past Selvig, who fell in step behind him. The two conversed on the events and plans for the near future.

“Mistress!” Orana squealed as she dashed to the carriage door. “I was so worried about you!”

No longer on stage, now that Danarius was gone, Ariana sunk back into the pillows. “I’m fine, Orana,” she said softly.

“No, you’re not! You’re pale as a wraith!” Orana chided as she pulled the blankets away from Ariana’s legs. A sudden eclipse darkened the carriage, and the ladies turned to find Fenris standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

“Are you alright? Did the journey tax you too much?” he crouched on the wooden floor and rested his armored hand lightly on Ariana’s knee.

“I’m fine!” she insisted with a warm smile. “Truly, you two worry so much over me.”

“With all the trouble you like to get into, how can I not?” Fenris teased gently.

“We’re in trouble, alright…” she muttered and closed her eyes briefly.

“Did something happen while you were gone, mistress?” Orana asked with wide eyes.

After he looked around for anyone nearby, Fenris pulled the door shut. Only slivers of the full moonlight illuminated the dark carriage.

“I’m pregnant, Orana,” Ariana said softly. “And Fenris is the father.”

“Oh…OH!” Orana shot back and stared wildly between them. “This is a disaster, mistress. What will you do?”

Ariana and Fenris’ eyes met and they shared a look of resolve.

“Whatever it takes,” Ariana finally said as she squeezed Fenris’ fingers.

------

Just before lunch the next day, Orana led the old midwife to Ariana’s room for a check-up. When the midwife saw Ariana, she gave a respectful bow and greeted her, “I’m glad to see you again. It's been so long since your last pregnancy that I was starting to worry your young body wasn’t fit to bear children.”

“Stress and separation are powerful forces against conception,” Ariana replied smoothly.

“True, your husband has asked me to come and examine you. After the last time, he insisted that you get the best care to bear a healthy child.”

“How considerate of him,” Ariana said with a forced grin. The midwife did not seem to notice as she busied herself with unpacking her bag. “However, I must discuss a special matter with you,” Ariana continued cautiously.

“If it’s to ask the child's gender, I’m afraid you’re too early to tell,” the midwife stated as she pulled several packets of dawn lotus tea out.

“I need you to discuss with my husband the subject of abstinence,” Ariana said with a cocked head. “I’m afraid that his…predilections would only harm me and our child.”

“A healthy marriage has intimacy, my lady,” the midwife advised with a frown. “If you’re concerned for the baby, I assure you it will be safe when you’re with Magister Danarius.”

Ariana took a deep breath and shut her eyes as she slowly lifted the edge of her sleeve. A dark purple bruise had formed on her wrist, red marks outlined where the edges of her restraint had been.

“Please…” she practically whispered. “I need you to tell him that he cannot touch me until after the baby is born.”

With a sudden fire in her eyes, the midwife nodded angrily. “Consider it done, my lady. He will not lay a hand on you, and that is a promise.”

“Thank you,” Ariana said with a small smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need my rest. I still feel terribly weak.”

With a curt nod, the midwife snapped her bag shut, whirled on her heel, and marched to the library where Danarius was lazily reading a book – unaware of the veritable typhoon of a woman about to bear down on him.

As soon as the door shut, Ariana ran her fingers over her bruised wrist. A green light flared, and within seconds, the ugly mark was gone.

“Was that wise, mistress?” Orana asked quietly as she peeked out from the dressing screen she had been hiding behind.

“I will get respite from Danarius abusing me,” Ariana replied darkly. “I think a little ruse is a small price to pay for it.”

Orana cast her eyes down; she was still holding the silk scarf she had used on Ariana earlier that morning. Under strict orders, she had tied it tight and pulled with all her might until the bruise was to her mistress’ satisfaction.

“Hey,” Ariana murmured and gently touched Orana’s hand. “Thank you. I know it’s not always easy following my orders, but I appreciate you every day.”

“Oh no worries, mistress!” Orana chirped and went about the room tidying up. “You’re no match for mistress Hadriana. She was tough, too!”

She suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at Ariana with widened eyes. She almost broke the most important rule of a servant: never discuss your masters, current or former.

“Hadriana? That was the woman who stripped you all down and tried to force the hallboys to violate a maid, correct?” Ariana cocked her head and asked.

“Yes, mistress. We have seen neither hide nor hair of her since then, and for that, we’re eternally grateful!”

Ariana leaned into her pillows, wincing from the pain from her still-healing wounds, and sighed. “Truly? I think I can do so much more for you.”

Suddenly, she sat up, eyes wide, and looked at Orana excitedly, “Orana, where is that chest that accompanied me? I was told there was one when we returned.”

“It’s right here, mistress!” Orana beamed and pulled the trunk from under the bed. “What’s in it? It’s quite heavy.”

Ariana slid onto the ground and ran her hands along the leather-wrapped chest. It was littered with claw marks where the darkspawn had torn at the carriage.

“Something I brought from my vacation. It’s going to help me realize my dreams.”

Unlatching the straps, she gently pushed open the lid. As it fell away to reveal its contents, Orana’s jaw dropped, and she was left speechless.

“Orana, take me to see Selvig,” Ariana stated, her voice laced with delight.

-------

Fenris watched motes of dust sparkle in the rays of sunlight that cut through the library windows while Danarius read over papers about his other properties in Seheron. The unease he felt gnawing in his stomach was relentless. He never imagined himself as a father and could not be happy with the news. Danarius would either kill the child as soon as it was born or take it as a slave as well. Ariana would undoubtedly be killed outright. Knowing Danarius, he would try to force Fenris to be the one to do it, but Fenris could never, would never, lay a hand on her no matter what.

The door to the library slammed open, and the gnarled old midwife practically leaped on Danarius like a lion on a deer.

“Your wife is in no fit state to perform her marital duties!” she announced with hands on her hips.

Fenris blinked in surprise, and Danarius lowered his papers to give the woman his full attention.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“Sometimes a woman is unable to be intimate with her husband throughout her pregnancy. It’s a matter of safety for her and the child,” she elaborated with an unwavering glare that dared him to question her.

“I must admit that does distress me,” Danarius said with a smirk. “But far be it from me to argue with the woman who has delivered the Archon.”

Satisfied that her task was complete, the midwife gave a half bow and said her goodbyes. “I will see the young mistress in a month!” she stated as she left the library.

“Truly does she think me a dog? Content with only scraps?” Danarius mused as went back to reading his papers. “As soon as Ariana births me a child, I’m selling her to a brothel, and that is that. I’m tired of housing Ferelden refuse.” His eyes suddenly snapped to Fenris, and he bared his teeth. “Unless you have anything to say about this, little wolf?”

Using acting skills worthy of the highest theater production, Fenris kept his gaze pointed forward and replied, “Your will is my own, master.”

-------

“You wish to purchase what, mistress?” Selvig asked slowly, and his eyebrows practically touched his hairline.

“Prostitutes,” Ariana repeated matter-of-factly.

“Ah, I did hear you right,” he said with a soft sigh. He went to his desk to pick up a ledger of household slaves.

A kitchen maid hurried into the room with a large breakfast tray balanced between her hands. “We thought you could use something to eat!” she beamed as she set the feast in front of Ariana.

“Thank you so much,” Ariana murmured. The platter held eggs, toast, jam, butter, a slice of ham, two fat sausages, a small slab of bacon, and a bowl of oatmeal. It was enough for the downstairs staff to eat a full meal, yet they gave it all to her. She spooned a large amount of the strawberry jam into the oatmeal and gently nudged the tray towards the maid. “Please share this with the others. I am happy with this for breakfast.”

The maid’s eyes watered. “You must eat your fill, though, mistress! We need you healthy and strong so that you won’t lose the baby again!”

The air in the room went cold, and she suddenly shrank as though she expected to be beaten. Her eyes were wide with panic. Ariana lowered her head and stared hard at the swirls of dark red streaked through pale cream. That horrible night still haunted her, and the worst part in her mind was that, to this day, she couldn’t say whether it was the better outcome. But what was done was done, and she had to do her best so that she and her child would survive.

“This food will be fine,” Ariana repeated softly and absently waved away the rest of the tray. “Please eat it and enjoy.”

Without argument, the woman hurriedly grabbed the tray and dashed. Danarius would not have been so forgiving, and she was thankful that the mistress was so much kinder than him.

“So, you wish for a prostitute, mistress?” Selvig inquired, thankful to steer the conversation anywhere else. Ariana smiled, but it did not reach her eyes as she ate her food.

“Yes, I think two will do.”

“And what do you want them to look like?” he asked, curious for her answer.

Ariana pondered a moment as she swirled the spoon absently. She was ordering them for Danarius’ tastes, not hers, so she had to be wise.

“First, I want a female human early twenties, with blonde hair and blue or green eyes. I want her to be curvy and particularly top-heavy. Make sure she’s familiar with choking and rough sex. She will get bruises, so don’t choose anyone unaware of these facts. Secondly, I want a male elf with a darker complexion and preferably pale hair. His eyes can be any color. Make sure he’s muscular but able to be the submissive bottom. He must be good at oral and into violent bedroom play.”

“These…are not for you, are they, mistress?” Selvig finally asked after considering Ariana’s bizarre request.

“No, they are for Master Danarius,” she stated as she ate her last oatmeal morsels. “He and I will not be sharing the marital bed during my pregnancy, and I would like to put an insurance policy in place to prevent his attentions from wandering about the house”

“A wise decision,” Selvig praised. “I will contact Ceres right-”

“No,” Ariana interrupted firmly. “We will no longer be purchasing anything from her. Find a broker who will go to brothels directly instead.”

“As you order, mistress,” Selvig promised.

Making to stand, Ariana had to lean against the door to keep her balance. She had sent Orana away as soon as she met with Selvig, and now she was paying for it. When Selvig made to help her, she politely waved his hand away and pulled open the door, only to fall face-first onto Fenris’ chest.

Giving a nod to the older elf, Fenris shut the door and chuckled at Ariana’s predicament. “What am I to do with you?” he teased.

“Take me upstairs, I hope,” she replied softly. “I’m afraid that walking is tiring, and I’ve already sent Orana to check that the tailor is here.”

Effortlessly, Fenris gathered her in his arms and squeezed her lightly. “As you wish, Ariana,” he murmured in that husky voice that sent shivers down her spine.

He carried her up the stairs, and when they reached the top, he paused and waited for further instructions.

“I want to see the garden,” Ariana almost pleaded. Giving a single nod, Fenris obeyed, and within minutes, he placed her on her favorite stone bench in the center of the expansive rose section. 

“I’ve missed this,” she practically whispered. The tree leaves had long changed into their fall colors, so her normally green haven was painted with rich reds and bright yellows. A sudden breeze raced across her, sending the leaves spiraling from their boughs. It made Ariana think of fire, and the thought of that which Danarius possessed igniting into flames pleased her. For everything he had done to her and Fenris, she vowed to hurt him where it would be most painful.

Fenris hadn’t left yet as she sat lost in thought, and the next thing she knew he was kneeling in front of her. He ached to touch her, but there were eyes all around them.

“Ariana, we must speak,” he said quietly. Her back went rigid, but she leaned forward with her hands on her knees and waited for him to continue.

“Yes?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head.

He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, “You can’t have this baby.”

She flinched as though struck and stared at him with a look of shock and devastation.

“How could you say that?” she whispered, tears welling.

“Danarius plans on selling you the moment the child is born, but once he sees that it’s not his, I’m certain he will murder you instead,” he answered with eyes downcast. His voice became faster and more frantic as he spoke. “After he kills you, he’ll either kill the child or raise it as his slave just as I was groomed for him. I can’t let that happen to you, to you both!”

“Are you sure this isn’t self-preservation, Fenris?” she asked angrily, her voice sending a nail through his heart. “You would be killed just as I would.”

“Ariana,” Fenris croaked and grasped one of her ankles. “I would die a thousand times over for you. I can’t stand the thought of either of you dying because of me.”

Her eyes widened at his passionate confession, and the tears in his eyes that threatened to spill. In the distance, a burst of child’s laughter rand through the garden, followed by shrieks that skated across the hedges as they chased each other. Hearing them strengthened her resolve for what she said next.

“I’ve always wanted children, Fenris,” Ariana began slowly. “I helped my mother take care of Bethany and Carver. I remember always wanting to see other women’s babies and play with them. When I…last time…,” her shoulders shook as she restrained her sobs. “I have been terrified of giving Danarius an heir, but knowing that the baby is yours brings me all the more joy in being a mother.”

“But it is a death sentence,” Fenris warned.

“Only if I’m around long enough for the sentence to be served,” she glowered.

“What do you-?”

“What have we here?” An enraged voice called from the far side of the garden.

Both snapped their heads towards the invader and their stomachs dropped.

“I said What. Have. We. Here?” Danarius snarled as he came to a stop several feet away from them.

“I was about to take the mistress into the house,” Fenris replied smoothly as he stood up. “She is too tired to walk on her own and asked me for help.”

“Kneeling at her feet?” Danarius asked with narrowed eyes.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault husband,” Ariana said as she wobbled in her seat. Her face had become sweaty and pale as she began to pant. “I-I-just…” Suddenly her head lolled, and her entire body tipped backwards. Fenris barely circled the bench in time to prevent her head from striking the flagstones.

“Useless weakness,” Danarius muttered. “If it had been possible, I would have married a Tevene woman. No matter. Get her inside before she embarrasses me further; I am expecting a guest any moment.” With that, he turned on his heels and strode back into the house.

Several seconds passed by while Fenris looked at Ariana’s face with concern. When Danarius’ footsteps finally faded, she opened one eye and gave Fenris a cheeky grin. “Is he gone yet?”

“ Venhedis ! You scared me,” Fenris hissed. “What was all of that?”

“Danarius perceives me as a pathetic, trembling woman,” she replied. “I have no intention of breaking that illusion.”

“So that was…”

“An act, yes,” she finished for him, her fingers almost imperceptibly running along the brand of his right arm. “One in which you played your part quite well.”

Goosebumps prickled his skin at the sensation, and another part of him swelled, wanting to feel her touch.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” he sighed and picked her up.

When they reached the inner part of the house, they heard Danarius talking animatedly with someone else in the dining room. The masculine voice was strangely familiar to Ariana, but she couldn’t place it. Looking at the clock, Ariana saw that it was already lunchtime, and she had spent most of the morning with Fenris. Knowing Danarius would be occupied for a while a thrilling thought entered her mind.

“I want to take a bath,” she said softly.

Fenris blinked in surprise but took her upstairs to the bathroom given to her. He had only been in to sweep the room for intruders, but he never lingered. The floor was red and white marble in a checkered pattern with gold veins running through the tiles. A cherry wood cabinet sat to the left side of the room filled with mountains of cloudlike towels. The clawfoot tub was a marvel of pure white porcelain with runes on the bottom to keep the water hot as one bathed. Shelves behind it were stocked with oils, soaps, dried flowers, and salts.

“So, this is why you always smell so good,” Fenris said playfully.

“Indeed, lock the door,” Ariana requested as he set her down.

He froze at the implication and watched as she walked to the tub. Her right leg was still stiff, and by the time she reached the faucet, she had to brace herself against the iron tub and take a few deep breaths. He bolted the door and strode across the room, and in three steps, he was beside her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, placing his hand on her back.

“Yes, they said that it would take a while for my body to regain its strength and possibly longer for me to walk right again,” she answered, embarrassed.

He reached over and started the water running, “Well, I will help you any chance I get.”

She flashed him a devious grin and replied, “I wish for you to help me bathe then.” She kissed his lips tentatively, and he instantly deepened it. She whimpered against him as his tongue forced its way into her mouth and moaned when his hands cupped her waist to pull her against his growing erection.

“I’ve missed you,” Fenris admitted. “We’ve never discussed what happened between us…”

“You didn’t want to talk about it,” Ariana interjected gently.

Fenris looked away and sighed. “I felt like a fool. I thought it better if you hated me – I deserved no less. But it isn’t better. That night…I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I should have asked your forgiveness before, but I hope you can forgive me now.”

“I do! I forgive you, Fenris!” she gasped as tears of joy ran down her cheeks.

The bath was full now and blissfully hot. Ariana helped Fenris strip from his armor, and when his gauntlets fell, he descended on her again.

“I wish to tear this thing off you,” he murmured, his fingers tangling in the soft material of her nightgown.

“There’s plenty more where it came from,” Ariana purred as Fenris almost instantly turned her gown into shreds with one pull. He stepped back to admire her body when his eyes landed on her scar. She turned her face away from him, and her cheeks flared red. The groove ran deep and long from the curve of her ribs, down her thigh, and ended beside her knee.

“It’s a wonder you survived,” he murmured in awe. “I thought mages could heal wounds so that no scar was left behind.”

“Only if you get to it right away,” she replied quietly. “By the time the grey wardens got me to the town almost an hour had passed so permanent damage had already set in.”

“How did you not bleed out?”

“One of them had a potion which helped seal the wound. They also took their bedrolls and wrapped them tight around me to help staunch the bleeding. I don’t remember much else because I passed out.”

She refused to look at him, ashamed of the way her body was now permanently marred. Gently, he took her chin in his fingers and drew her up to look at him.

“I am honored that such a strong woman wishes to bear my child,” he said before placing a feather-light kiss on her lips. “And I see you as no less beautiful than you were before. You are even more so.”

Ariana pounced on him, sending them both backward into the deep tub. He yelped in surprise as the water overflowed and cascaded onto the floor. He had never experienced water so warm and inviting, but he was too distracted with the naked woman on top of him to notice.

“Oh, Fenris,” she murmured, and this time it was her tongue probing his mouth. 

His head swam as he felt her pussy rubbing against his aching cock. She moaned softly and reached between them to grab it, again marveling at how her fingers could not fully close.

“I need this!” she panted. “I’ve imagined you inside of me every night since we were together.”

Fenris thought back to the many nights he lay in bed imagining Ariana coming undone beneath him, her naked body spread out for his eyes to devour like a banquet, the feeling of her tight sheath gripping and milking every last drop from him. Despite trying to fight it almost every night he stroked himself until he came while moaning her name.

Now, she was eager and wanton for him. He felt the swollen tip nudge inside of her before she lowered her body and took him in slowly, inch by inch. He shuddered when, at last, he bottomed out, and she mewled as her body was once again stretched almost too full.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your size,” she giggled, Fenris rolled his hip, eliciting a delighted gasp from his lover.

“Then we shall have to give you lots of practice,” he teased before he grabbed her thighs and thrust into her.

She reached up and grabbed the shelves as Fenris picked up a strong rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through her body each time.

“I wish to have you, Ariana,” he said and kissed one of her rose-pink nipples. His tongue ran circles around the hard bud, and she stifled a whimper when he drew it into his mouth to suck.

“Yes, yes! Fenris, please take me!” she gasped, and he switched to the neglected side.

“Truly? My lust for you runs deep. I don’t know if you can handle it,” he taunted and ran his hands over her back.

“I may need you daily – no more than that,” he admitted. “If I had my way we’d hardly get out of bed.”

He watched as her eyes grew hazy and her breathing sped up, he felt a tightening and surge of heat around his cock, and he recognized her build-up. Her hips began to move frantically as she chased her orgasm, and her fingers were white-knuckled as she held the shelf.

“Yes, come for me, Ariana,” Fenris goaded as her body trembled.

Suddenly her back arched, and she stifled a cry of pleasure, and feeling an impossibly tight squeeze on his cock sent Fenris over the edge as well. His head fell back, and he gripped her waist as his cock pulsed so hard he felt it in his toes. Just as he was coming down from his high a flash of movement above him caught his attention. He had no time to react before something small and hard crunched into his nose.

“What the?!” he sputtered as a sickening floral scent bloomed around him.

“My bath oil! Are you alright, Fenris?” Ariana asked, placing her hands on his face to examine the damage. He felt her magic pouring into him, and his brands flared green to match. The pain quickly dissipated, and he was left staring at her in confusion.

“Bath oil?” he asked and plucked the small bottle that was now bobbing, empty, on the water's surface.

“Yes, smells like my rose oil at that,” she sighed.

“Well as lovely as it smells how will we explain why we smell the same?” he asked pointedly.

“I might have an idea about that,” she answered and stood to rummage the shelves above him. Tentatively, he reached out and caressed her belly, which was now eye level.

“How can I keep you safe?” he asked absently. He had no answers yet.

“I have a plan on that,” Ariana injected into his brooding. She knelt in the water between his legs and held a bar of herbal soap.

“What’s that?” Fenris asked and wrinkled his nose.

“Elfroot and Prophet Laurel,” she answered. “The smell is too masculine for my tastes, so I have never used it.”

“And you think it will help me?” Fenris inquired and watched her turn the grey oval in her hands leaving a trail of suds in its wake.

“Yes, now give that to me, and I’ll scrub your back,” she said, gently smacking his shoulder.

------

When Fenris emerged an hour later, he was probably the cleanest he’d ever been. His pale hair gleamed in the light, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his skin. It only served to highlight how filthy his armor was. He looked both ways before silently heading to Ariana’s room to fetch Orana. He found her setting a lunch tray on the small table next to the window that overlooked the garden.

“Does she eat well?” He asked as he leaned against the door frame.

“She has bouts where she can’t keep anything down or is too nauseous to eat, but it’s not like last time,” Orana answered, looking relieved.

“I am delighted to hear it,” Fenris smiled. “Please let me know if that changes.” Suddenly, he faltered. “She’s…ready for you to get her…in the bath.”

Orana’s eyes widened before she gathered Ariana’s thickest robe and hurried out of the room. As she passed him by, she froze and slowly turned to stare.

“You smell nice,” she said flatly.

“Yes…thank you, it’s a new soap,” Fenris responded slowly.

Orana sighed before shaking her head and pleading, “Don’t hurt her again.”

Then she was gone, and he was left staring at the warm bed he and Ariana had spent that fateful night in.

“ Never again,” he promised the empty air and went to patrol the grounds.

Chapter Text

***WINNERS: Charlotte & Hayama4!!! Your requests were so similar that I decided to combine them into one hopefully awesome piece! It's over in the "general audiences" tab and is titled 'Small Pieces of Heaven'.***

Hey guys!

This is not an actual chapter. I'm so sorry for those of you that got excited but it's coming on Wednesday the 7th.

As some of you know this story is almost two years old and yet still unfinished. I have had several instances of mental illness and other things that got in the way of writing. BUT that's better now and I'm trying to keep the momentum going! Our couple is getting close to their biggest adventure yet, and frankly I'm super stoked.

So why am I posting this? Partially to announce my new release schedule and also to give my readers a challenge. On the 17th of this month this story will be officially two years old and I think we ought to celebrate!

Please, give me comments for a prompt. A oneshot that you want to see our favorite couple in. Maybe it's pure fluff and no smut. Maybe it's pages and pages of raunchy goodness. Scenes from their future freedom. A secret assignation while they're still in Tevinter. WHATEVER YOU WANT!!!! I'll pick the most popular or the one I like the best if there is no consensus. Let's have fun with it! I'll pick the winner on the 10th to give myself a full week of writing to give you the best story that I can.

Thanks so much for being my reader. I appreciate every one of you. Have an amazing day!

Chapter Text

Ariana picked at her lunch, but hardly ate a bite. A flakey white fish was seared in a white wine sauce with cherry tomatoes, and capers. A wave of nausea hit her, and she pushed the plate away. Instead, she sipped ice water and turned another page of the newest “Swords and Shields” book. When she realized she had no idea what was going on she growled in frustration and flipped back a few pages for the third time. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to read properly.

“Is everything alright, mistress?” Orana asked as she fanned a new gown on Ariana’s bed.

“No,” Ariana replied and finally closed the book. “I’m not ready for today.”

“…I understand,” Orana murmured and gently laid a hand on Ariana’s shoulder.

“I’m going to miss her so much,” Ariana choked out as her eyes filled with tears.

Orana had no words. As a slave losing ones you love was standard practice, but it didn’t stop them for mourning and hurt no less when that person was close enough to be family too. Instead, she gave a comforting squeeze and led Ariana to the vanity where she began to comb and braid her mistress’ golden hair. Ariana gazed into the mirror and felt her heart hurt again, and the black dress seemed to mirror the feelings inside of her. Orana affixed an onyx tiara on Ariana’s head with a long black veil that hid her face. Ariana hadn’t been able to mourn her mother or siblings properly. The moment she landed in Kirkwall her uncle swept her up and sent her by carriage to Tevinter with promises of a life of wealth and luxury. Today, she would mourn not only her friend that saved her from a pit of despair, but also the family whom she never got to bury.

She hated the dress.

She sneered at Danarius’ tasteless choice once it was finally on her body. The gown was more appropriate for a macabre wedding than a funeral. The bodice was tight fitting with rouching on the sides that was lined by sparkling gems. The skirt flared large so that the petticoat layers hissed and swirled when she turned. She wore satin black gloves that reached her elbows, and a gaudy diamond bracelet hung from her right wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Orana said softly when she affixed the necklace if one could call it that. It was a black leather strap with a metal ring and small locked padlock that was almost too tight even when Orana used its loosest size. A silent, degrading symbol of the ownership that Danarius had over her.

“I will not let him ruin this for me,” Ariana vowed as she glared at her made up face in the mirror. Blood red lips, black eyeliner, and silver eyeshadow. She felt disrespectful to Lady Arida’s memory, but there was nothing to be done. The clock would strike soon, and she needed to be in the Foyer waiting for him before then.

Orana held her hand and guided her down the stairs. She braced herself on the banister and walked with her head held high. Surprisingly, Danarius was already waiting for her. His tsked and shook his head.

“Can’t you walk properly?” he growled.

“Not yet, husband,” Ariana answered with a deferential bow of her head. “I’m afraid my injury is still healing and so it’s difficult for me to get around unassisted.”

“Well, I can’t have you limping around in front of everyone,” he sighed with his eyes looking up as though beseeching the Maker for strength. “I planned for this though.”

A maid approached Ariana and presented her a long black cane. She took it tentatively and rolled it in her hands. The wood was polished and the color of ebony. The grip was silver and embossed with the household crest.

“It was my father’s,” Danarius said with a dangerous tone. “If it’s damaged or lost I will take it out of your hide.”

It was though the air had been sucked from the room and everyone except Danarius froze. His intimidations were usually veiled so to hear him downright threaten his pregnant wife was distressing to say the least.

“Will we be taking any guards with us?” Ariana asked casually as she took a few small steps with the cane. It was too long, but she found that it did help a lot.

“Unfortunately, no,” Danarius groused. “Alexius has ordered that no guards or other slaves accompany their owners. As soon as Felix returned, he has become erratic and strange.”

“Felix will be there?” Ariana asked hopefully.

Danarius’ gaze now snapped to Ariana and the look was bordering on furious.

“You were friends with Felix?” he snarled. “How close were you?

“Not very,” Ariana lied. “I saw him occasionally at Lady Arida’s parties, but I hardly knew him.”

“Then why do you care?” Danarius ground out.

“Because I know what it’s like to lose a parent to the darkspawn and I wish to pay my respects,” she answered, suddenly her own anger surged, and she clenched the cane a bit tighter. She clawed the emotion back though and managed to simply look distressed which she hoped would satisfy Danarius.

“Yes, that’s a good angle,” Danarius mused and rubbed his beard in contemplation. “Very well. I’ll make sure you have access to Felix; you make sure everyone sees you mourning and hears your regards for him.”

Ariana’s stomach twisted, and it wasn’t from food this time. She did not want to make a spectacle out of anyone’s grief, but Danarius didn’t believe in such considerations.

“Your will, husband,” she answered with a half bow.

The carriage ride to the Gereon manor was plunged in silence. Danarius stared out the window contemplating something, and Ariana was leaning back with her eyes closed. She hated being in such close quarters.

“Have you been well?” Danarius asked, snapping her from her thoughts.

“What? Oh, yes. Everything is to be expected,” she responded feeling confused at his sudden care.

“Good. I would hate for anything to happen to my heir because of your frail body,” he said with a dismissive wave. He had not looked away from the window.

On the outside Ariana was serene but inside she was screaming, “I’ll show you how strong I really am!”

The Gereon estate was in mourning as well as the guests. Every slave was wearing black from head to toe. The butler who always made sure Ariana was taken care of at all of Lady Arida’s functions greeted everyone with a formal bow, but when his eyes met Ariana’s, he looked like he wanted to cry. She couldn’t break the line though and publicly hugging a slave would be seen as a great social faux pas. But as she passed by him she caught his eyes and tried, just for a moment, to convey how much she mourned with him.

The funeral was held in the garden. The first thing one noticed was that there was no coffin and Ariana realized darkly that it was because they would never recover a body. A large oil painting of Arida was on a stand to the left of a podium. Flowers ringed the painting and were piled at its base along with candles that flickered in the cool autumn air. Ariana barely paid attention to the words. Various magisters and the social elite took the stage and gave wonderful speeches about Arida’s grace and integrity. Lady Aquinea gave a half-intelligible speech about how her dear friend could never be replaced before being escorted back to her chair by who was presumably her husband. Ariana discreetly looked around and saw that Dorian was nowhere to be found.

“I think it would be good to hear a few words from Lady Arida’s young friend and charge: Lady Ariana Amell,” the funeral director said and motioned for her to stand. Ariana broke into a cold sweat, and she looked in terror at Danarius. He seemed just as thunderstruck before his face smoothed into a dangerous smile.

“Do me proud,” he uttered and sent a chill down her spine.

Grasping the cane tight Ariana stood shakily. She took a moment to steady herself before beginning the long trek to the front. All eyes were on her and felt her anxiety rising rapidly. She had never spoken in public before, and this seemed too important to mess up for her friend more so than Danarius. A man to her left snickered and whispered in Tevene to his companion who tittered at his joke. Suddenly a dainty foot struck out and caught the tip of her cane with its heel, pulling it out from underneath her. With her main support now gone Ariana wheeled her arms back as she felt herself falling. A pair of strong arms caught her by the waist just before she hit the ground. A familiar scent of lyrium, books and cologne assaulted her nose followed by the pungent smell of too much wine.

“My dear you’re practically paralyzed with grief!” Dorian said, half shouting for the audience that surrounded them.

She nodded numbly as Dorian set her upright and held his arm out for her to grab. “Let me lead the way then,” he said gently.

He guided her the rest of the way and leant her his endless confidence as he stood by while she gave her speech. At first her voice trembled but as she spoke the words came easier and stronger.

“Lady Livia Arida took a chance on me,” she said. “As you all know I’m from Ferelden.” The crowd broke into murmurs with many frowns and chastising shakes of the head all around.

“But she saw past that and let me, just for a moment, enjoy your world. She showed me how refined and beautiful Tevinter society can be, and she made me glad to be part of it.” Ariana could practically taste the bile in her throat as she thought of the second nature of Tevinter society: the slavery, racism and disparity between anyone without magic and those that have it. She hated it. She hated herself every day for the part she had to play, but she would do it well as there were too many lives relying on her success. She just prayed it would be worth it in the end.

“I think I can speak for many of us when I say that Lady Arida’s sparkling personality and warmth will be greatly missed.” Her voice suddenly faltered, and she gasped out the last words. “She will never know how much she meant to me, and I will never be able to tell her that I wouldn’t be here without her love and guidance.”

She gripped Dorian’s bicep and tried to keep her shoulders steady as she wept beneath her veil. Someone grasped her hand and she looked to see a woman her age presenting Danarius’ cane to her. With a nod of acknowledgement, the woman turned back to the front as the next speaker mounted the podium and within moments Ariana was delivered to her seat at Danarius side.

“Thank you,” she sniffled, wishing to say out loud how she felt.

“It was my pleasure, Lady Amell,” Dorian said with a kiss to the back of her hand. He looked to Danarius with a frigid stare. “Take care of her. You’re lucky that she survived with only a limp.”

With that he went back to sit with his mother and father who both glared at him for his part in the tableau. Ariana wished that she could break away with him and mourn their friend together. She had so many questions and things to say, but she stayed put because Danarius was studying her.

“You seem to be close to the younger Pavus as well,” he observed. “I simply must ask you later about how you two know each other.”

Ariana did not reply and kept her eyes forward, and soon the eulogies ended. Magister Alexius took his place at the podium and gazed, eyes unfocused, at the crowd before him.

“There is food and beverage enough for everyone,” he said in a tremulous voice. “Please make merry and toast my darling wife. You all know how she loved a good party.”

Without receiving any mourners, he immediately went into the house the congregation broke up. Danarius half stood and craned his neck as he looked for someone in the crowd. He glanced to Ariana before growling. “Stay out of trouble – there is no one here to protect you. I expect you to stay by the buffet tables.”

She nodded, confused, as he pushed past her and disappeared into the crowd in pursuit of his target. Now alone Ariana meandered towards the food, feeling quite peckish suddenly. She took a small plate and looked over the canapes. A salmon mousse on crackers caught her eye as well as a sliver of artisan bread with melted cheese and balsamic vinegar. When she got to the end of the table though she was troubled. There were no desserts.

“Pssst!”

She looked around for the sound and finally caught sight of Dorian hiding behind a column.

“Get over here now before someone sees,” he whispered.

Setting her plate down she casually strode towards her friend. Dorian looked both ways to make sure they weren’t seen before taking her into the hallway relegated to the slaves. When they were out of eyesight, he drew her into a large hug which she gratefully returned. The odor of wine assaulted her once again and when they separated, she saw he had a wineglass in each hand, and both were empty.

“Dorian?” she asked, looking from the glasses to his face.

“What these? I thought I’d do Lady Arida’s memory an honor and enjoy myself to the fullest,” he answered. His eyes were a bit glassy, but he did not slur, and he was able to stand upright.

“How many of those have you had?” she inquired cautiously.

“Not as much as my mother! Ha! That old bat could drink an entire barrel of rum and still manage to find her way home in the dark. Believe me I’ve seen it,” he chuckled but there was no humor in it. He looked to his glasses and finding that they were empty he raised his hand for Ariana to wait. “I need to get a refill I’ll be right back.”

“Dorian!” Ariana said and grasped his sleeve. “I think you’ve had enough for right now. What did you want to see me for? Is it Felix?”

Dorian immediately sobered up and frowned, “I haven’t been able to meet with him since he returned to the city. Alexius keeps him under lock and key now. I’m not even sure he’s alive at this point.”

“So, are we on a mission to search the house for him?” Ariana asked with a small eager grin.

“I’m afraid not, my dear,” Dorian answered with a sad smile of his own. “Felix is not here. The slaves tell me that he’s at Alexius’ studio that’s closer to the Magisterium. I just wanted to see you and see if you were alright.”

“I could be better,” Ariana sighed, and her shoulders dropped from the weight she’d been carrying.

“I’ll bet. Congratulations. I’m certain Danarius will be delighted to have a squalling infant here in what seven months’ time?” Dorian inquired.

After everything they had been through together, and knowing that the only reason she was alive was because Dorian insisted on teaching her how to use her magic for more than just healing Ariana’s will broke.

“More like six,” she said softly.

“Goodness, he’s been telling everyone his child will have a Matrinalis birthday,” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe someday he will, but this isn’t Danarius’ baby,” she whispered as she touched her belly.

“Fasta vas!” Dorian snarled before looking around for any eavesdroppers. “It’s Fenris isn’t it?”

“How did you know?” Ariana blurted out with wide eyes.

“I saw the way you two looked at each other. Secret longing is an expression I’m all too familiar with,” Dorian replied gently.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ariana admitted.

“There are blood rituals…” Dorian began before Ariana’s fiery eyes snapped to him and she shook her head furiously.

“I’m keeping it,” she insisted. “Somehow I will escape, and I will raise this child with all of the love and happiness they would never have in Danarius’ household.”

“And Fenris?”

“I’ll get him out too,” Ariana murmured and cast her eyes to the floor. “I just don’t know how yet.”

“You wish to take the illegitimate child of a favored slave, and that slave, from one of the most twisted magisters in the Imperium? Forgive me for being crass, dear, but you have bigger balls than I do.” Dorian said and pat Ariana’s pale cheek. After a moment of thought he looked determined as though he had made an important decision. “Let’s go visit Adrian.”

Downstairs was as grim as a graveyard. There were hardly any sounds and the least number of torches had been lit. Ariana was surprised since normally the massive kitchen was bustling with talking, cooking and occasionally Adrian broke into a song as he dipped confectionaries into chocolate. Instead, Adrian sat at the butcher block counter and absently rolled fondant into the shape of swans.

“Adrian, I’ve brought a guest,” Dorian announced, still holding Ariana’s hand.

“I’m in no mood, ser,” Adrian sighed woefully.

“Hello Adrian,” Ariana said softly and took a step forward with her cane.

The clack of the metal on stone caused Adrian to whirl around and he suddenly dashed across the kitchen to hug Ariana. She wasn’t used to receiving so many in one day.

“I was so happy to hear you made it,” he whispered and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “And with child no less!”

“Thank you, Adrian,” Ariana beamed and pat him on the back. As she pulled away and gave him an earnest look, she added, “I was surprised to see your treats were not upstairs.”

“Master Alexius did not want any at the party,” he admitted. “He said that it would remind him too much of the mistress and young lord because they loved them too much.”

“That’s terrible!” she gasped. “I was looking forward to them, and I bet many of the other guests were too.”

“Would you like some?” Adrian asked and grabbed a few of the swans for her. “Please try them. It’s a new dessert I’ve come up with.”

“They’re so cute,” she smiled and popped one of the small creations into her mouth. First it was sweet and soft like a marshmallow, but as she bit into it a delicious burst of strawberry jam hit her tongue. They were sweet, chewy, and absolutely addicting. Ariana ate all the ones she had been given in quick succession.

“I want more, please,” she said but before Adrian could grab any Dorian gently chided her as though she were a child. “You’ll make your tummy hurt if you eat too many.”

She furrowed her brow and glared at her friend, but ultimately knew he was right. She settled for two more of the fattest ones and contented herself with that.

“I’m glad you like them,” Adrian said with a proud smile. “I was hoping I’d get to see you one last time.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Ariana asked, her cheek full of delicious swan goodness.

“Alexius is selling the estate,” Dorian stepped in and answered. “He’s decided to pare everything down so that he can focus on his research.”

“You’re not going with him?” she inquired as she drank a glass of water that a kitchen maid provided.

“He’s taking the other cook, but he says that he doesn’t need a dessert specialist now…that…” Adrian trailed off and the mood became suffocating once again.

Ariana pondered a moment and looked at Adrian pointedly. “When is the sale?”

“They say the public sale is in a few weeks, but most of the stuff will be up for bidding for Alexius’ friends before then,” he answered.

“Wouldn’t your house benefit from Adrian’s talents?” Ariana asked and turned her attention to Dorian.

“If he were a world class sommelier mother would have him by morning, in every sense of the phrase…as it stands though she detests desserts so his talents would be wasted,” Dorian replied with a shake of his head.

“I see,” Ariana’s mind mulled over the possibilities and finally came to a decision. “Very well. I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure it will all be fine,” Adrian said with a demure bow. “Please do not trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Ariana insisted and gently touched his scarred cheek. “You’ve been kind to me, and I wish to repay that kindness.”

Adrian sputtered, and when his mouth worked again, he uttered. “Very well, my lady.”

Dorian swept Ariana upstairs. Her heart sped up as she tried to think of how long she had been missing. When they reached the upper landing she whispered to Dorian, “Where is the bathroom?” She knew Danarius was waiting, and she needed an alibi.

A few minutes later she returned to the large receiving room from the direction of the bathroom and saw that Danarius was standing near the buffet looking fit for murder.

“Where have you been?!” he snarled and grabbed her arm roughly. Guests turned away from the scene and Ariana was alone in a sea of people.

“I’ve been ill, husband,” she murmured, her wide eyes were filled with dramatic tears. “I tried waiting for you, but I knew you’d rather I go to -.”

“Yes, fine,” he snapped. “I should have expected your pregnancy would be another annoying tack in my shoe, but it is for the greater good.”

Ariana gently grasped his hand, his eyes were trained on her like a panther, and she gently placed it on her belly. A new surge of illness overtook her, but this was from a different kind of disgust. “It will be worth it,” she promised. His fingers, frozen at first, lazily stroked her through the thin material of the dress. She saw his eyes darken and he stepped forward to press himself against her.

“Darling, the midwife said-!” she gasped, unable to run away with his hands still on her. He pinched the fabric and twisted until she felt it straining at the seams.

“Don’t. Deny. Me.” He growled and punctuated each word with a tug on her dress.

She shook like a leaf in the wind and his lips turned up into a vicious smile. “Good girl,” he praised, but the words were sinister.

“Now let’s go,” Danarius commanded as he wheeled her around and pushed his way through the crowd. To her horror he went away from the entrance and towards a private lounge off the dining room. He shut and latched the door, and his eyes burned holes through her gown as though stripping her naked with his gaze.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered and shifted his clothes so that his hard cock sprang free.

“Your will, husband,” she replied quietly and took her place in front of him. Without any fanfare he grabbed the back of her head and rammed himself down her throat. His pace picked up and soon he was rutting her mouth with wild abandon. Ariana glared up at his face which was tipped back from rapturous delight, and she wondered, briefly, what he would do if she bit down with all her might. She didn’t get the chance since he was already orgasming within a few thrusts. As soon as he pulled back Ariana began retching and gasping.

“Disgusting,” Danarius sneered as he readjusted his clothes as though nothing had happened. “I’ll be waiting at the carriage, get yourself cleaned up.” He then left her sitting there shaking and sweating.

She knelt on the carpet, hands balled into fists, and gritted teeth. As she used the cane and wall to stand up, she felt a longing well up in her heart. She missed Fenris and wished he could have been there with her. A slave fetched her water and a rag so that she could clean herself before making her way through the party. Her leg ached and she was terribly tired. She couldn’t wait to get home.

------

A week later Ariana sat back on a deep purple chaise lounge in the smallest sitting room and studied the prostitutes that Selvig brought her.

“I tried to match your exact specifications,” he said with a humble bow. “Please select whichever you prefer.”

There were two males and two females, each one distinct from the other yet somehow, they managed to look alike.

She nodded to the first female. She had to be just barely nineteen and she stood with a demure look on her face. Her cheeks were dusted the barest pink and her light blue eyes were almost haunting.

“What is your name?” Ariana asked, her shoulders squared, and head held high. She hated what she was doing, but she knew she had to appear calm and collected.

“I’m Annie and I belong to the “Black Orchid” off market square,” the woman answered, Ariana picked up the lightest accent on her vowels.

“Where in Ferelden are you from?” Ariana inquired.

“Oh, I’m from Denerim, miss,” Annie replied with a sudden wide grin. “I heard you were from Ferelden too, so I volunteered to be sold to your house.” She curtsied and bent over so that her cleavage was on full display. “I will please you greatly, mistress.”

Ariana’s nose wrinkled from distaste, and she shook her head. “I think not. You may leave now.”

“Wait what?” Annie sputtered before a young hall boy steered her from the room. She snapped and snarled at her escort but ultimately was ejected from the manor.

Meredith entered the room and set a tray of tea and sandwiches next to Ariana. When she caught sight of their visitors she almost burst laughing. Ariana looked to her curiously and the cook leaned down to whisper something in her ear before hurrying back to the kitchen.

“You may go as well,” Ariana said pointedly to the taller of the males.

The man blinked several times before nodding and walking with the houseboy out of the room.

“Now then,” Ariana sighed with an exasperated clap. “I will not have liars in my house. That girl was not from Denerim no more than I am from Starkhaven. Her accent was from the Vimmark mountains which means she was likely an Avaar captured in a Teviter raid. She mistakenly thought I would care more about that than dishonesty.”

The remaining hopefuls quieted and looked to each other in surprise.

“And the other man?” The remaining male asked.

Ariana’s face softened slightly; he did remind her of Fenris. His skin was a bronze shade that appeared sun kissed, and his eyes were the color of molten silver. Pale blonde hair was twisted into an elaborate braid that hung far down his back.

“Apparently his reputation preceded him,” she answered. “His nickname is “Vinny the Mouth” both denoting his skills as a lover and the fact he’s currently wanted by magisters of the Imperium for gossiping about their members… quite literally.”

Selvig looked fit to hit the roof with anger. “My sincerest apologies, mistress! His owner had told me that his name was Severus and that he was experienced with unconventional bedroom roles.”

The two candidates held their breath and looked between the two. This was a grave sin and they wondered how their potential future mistress would handle the situation. Ariana shook her head and groaned as though she were getting a headache.

“Selvig, we will discuss the matter after our business here. For now, I will content myself that this is an error you will never make again. Am I correct?”

“Never again,” Selvig promised and nodded his head frantically.

“Very well, we will move on then,” Ariana said and nodded to the remaining female. “What is your name?”

The woman shifted on her feet seemingly unsure. Her breasts rivaled that of Ceres and her curves would devastate the egos of most women. Her face was done up in far too much makeup and her bright red lips looked swollen. Noticing that Ariana motioned for the woman to come closer. White foundation that stretched down her neck tried to mask darkened marks that matched a large hand. The purple eyeshadow that she used perfectly camouflaged fresh black eyes.

Ariana cocked her head expectantly and waited for the woman to speak.

“My name is Giselle,” the woman mumbled, her soft voice featuring a heavy brogue. “I’m from Starkhaven and my father sold me so he could buy medicine for my mother.”

The silence told Giselle she was expected to continue. “I currently belong to no brothel, but I am in debt to a soporati that whores me out.”

“I see the marks on your face and neck,” Ariana said softly, and Giselle flinched from the observation. “I’m afraid if you come to my household the master will treat you no kinder.”

“I know, my lady,” Giselle said suddenly looking Ariana hard in the eyes. “I once went to a party of Magister Erimond’s. It was myself and three other girls, but I was the only one who got out alive. I saw your husband in action. Please, I know what I’m in for, just please give me a chance.”

Ariana tilted her head to the side and studied the woman for a moment. Suddenly, her hand shot out and she placed her palm on Giselle’s cheek. To her credit Giselle did not recoil and Ariana smiled sadly, recognizing the instinct that was conditioned out of her long ago as well. Tendrils of green magic raised from her wrist and wrapped around Giselle until the room was bathed in a viridescent glow. When it finally subsided Giselle’s wounds were healed and with the bruising and swelling gone, she looked even more beautiful.

“There,” Ariana said and lowered her hand back into her lap. “My husband hates it if his toys looked played with already. My maid Orana is outside, and she will take you downstairs to explain what exactly is required of you.”

“I will do you proud, mistress,” Giselle said with a determined nod. “Thank you.”

And then there were only three in the room: Ariana, Selvig and the remaining male prostitute.

“I’m afraid I have no tragic backstories or confessions for you,” the young man drawled, he was Tevene through and through. “My name is Nero and I love sex. My home is ‘The Raunchy Lamb’ and as lovely as you are I’d rather roll in the blankets with your man here.” He punctuated the last line with a lewd glance to Selvig who blanched at the proposition.

“I would never-!” he began before Nero broke into hearty laughter.

“I didn’t think so,” Nero admitted. “But it didn’t hurt to say it.”

“What do you know of my husband?” Ariana asked to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“I know that he likes sex almost as much as I do, and that he can’t get off unless it hurts someone else,” Nero replied easily.

“And yet you’re willing to take that on?” Ariana asked with a raised brow.

Nero grinned and raised the hem of his shirt. Ariana saw his washboard stomach was littered with dozens of scars, many of which formed patterns or hatch marks. Having her full attention, he licked his lips and eagerly replied, “I can’t get off either unless I’m being hurt.”

A smile bloomed on Ariana’s face as radiant as the sun and she motioned for Selvig to approach. “Take him to his new quarters and get him ready for tonight. It’s been days and I think my husband will be hungry for something new.”

When the duo left the room, she sighed and let her head fall back onto the cushions. The first chess piece had been moved and now it was time for the counter play. She looked to the plate filled with dainty sandwiches and sighed. She picked up one that was filled with thin slices of spiced mutton and crisp lettuce and bit into it gratefully. When she finished the first one, she picked up a teacup but when she brought it to her lips she froze and took a few cautious sniffs. Carefully she placed the cup onto its saucer and pulled on the sash that would summon someone from the kitchen.

Within minutes Meredith appeared from behind a hidden door and shuffled into the room while smiling brightly.

“Oh…” she said, and her face faltered. “Was the food not to your liking mistress?”

“It’s delicious in fact, but what is this tea you’ve brought me?” Ariana asked, indicating the fine porcelain cup.

“It’s the raspberry leaf tea the midwife gave us,” Meredith replied. “It’s the same as last time, and she even reminded us to have you drink it as much as possible.”

“Did you check it?” Ariana queried.

“Well…no,” Meredith admitted with downcast eyes. “We’ve gotten so busy downstairs with your return. I’m sorry, is something wrong?”

“This isn’t raspberry leaf tea,” Ariana replied absently as she grabbed two more sandwiches. “Please take it away, and I won’t need anything else for now.”

Meredith nodded and took the tray downstairs right away. She practically threw it on the dining table where Orana and Giselle sat discussing the finer points of acting as a maid.

“What’s wrong Meredith?” Orana asked, bewildered at the older woman’s strange behavior. Meredith was on a stool looking through the cupboards for the imposter sachets.

“Is this tea? Can I have some?” Giselle asked and grabbed the tea cup but as soon as the drink hit her lips she spat it out.

“What is this?!” she spluttered and wiped her mouth with a rag. “Why do you have black lotus tea?”

“It’s supposed to be raspberry leaf!” Meredith half-shouted before giving a triumphant whoop as she found the bags. She paused when she saw them in the light and furrowed her brow. “It’s the same packaging, but why are the leaves different?”

Giselle snorted and shook her head, “I don’t know why, ma’am, but I can tell you that raspberry leaf tea is for keeping a pregnancy, but black lotus is for losing it.”

The packets fell from Meredith’s hands and the women looked to each other with creeping dread.

“That…that means…” Orana murmured.

“We have a traitor,” Meredith finished with narrowed eyes. “And we need to find out who before the mistress or the heir get hurt.”

----------

The elderly midwife clambered out of her carriage into the market square. She sighed and popped the joints in her back into place. She was getting too old for this line of work. She took a left down a narrow alley then two rights before coming to a stop at a pair of white pine doors that looked strangely out of place. A strong knock, a light one, and finally strong again, and almost instantly there was a shuffling on the other side of the door before it cracked open to reveal an angelic face framed by golden hair.

“Grandmother!” Ceres trilled before ushering the old woman in. “How was your visit to my darling ‘Rius’ house last week? I have missed you so!”

Grandmother sat on a linen bench that was still wet from some activity she didn’t want to know about and pulled her bag into her lap. The season was already off to a bustling start with three magisters, four mistresses and a foreign ambassador pregnant within weeks of each other. Although not related to Ceres she had known Ceres as a child with her first master and had been given the moniker “Grandmother” by the once precocious child.

“I gave her the tea just like you asked,” she said and pulled a mountain of sachets from her bag.

“I knew I could count on you grandmother,” Ceres purred as she laid out the tea bags in different piles.

“I’m not used to you asking for the raspberry leaf tea,” the midwife said and peered at Ceres with calculating eyes.

“One of my most beautiful girls is pregnant. I’m thinking that her child will also be exceptionally attractive. As you know there is a market for that,” Ceres glared her “Grandmother” menacingly before going back to her counting. “The other is for my redhead. She’s pregnant with a magister’s baby so we’re waiting to see how much he’s willing to pay for her silence.”

“You’re in a dangerous game there,” the midwife warned. “If you’re not careful the wife will get wind and pay you just to kill her outright.”

Ceres chuckled and raised a crystal tumbler to her lips. A pearl bracelet hung on her dainty wrist and clicked against gold bangles. She was nothing if not ostentatious.

“That’s an outcome I’m also considering if he’s not willing to play along,” she said and wiped a drop of Starkhaven whiskey from her chin.

“Now!” Ceres said and clapped her hands as she sat at the imposing desk that seemed to take up half the room. “Tell me about your meeting with that harlot Ariana.”

------

Soft sunlight filtered into the sitting room. Ariana had dozed off not long after Meredith left with the tea. Although she slept well at night that never felt like enough and she found herself napping sometimes multiple times a day.

“Must you really sleep anywhere like a beggar?” A beleaguered sigh sounded over her head. She sat straight up and found Danarius looming over her.

“I’m sorry husband!” she squeaked and tried to smooth down her wild hair. To her horror she felt wetness on her cheek and she blushed deeply as she wiped away the drool. Danarius was all about setting the right image and to his standards she had failed.

“Am I to expect these nasty habits of yours to become commonplace?” he growled. His fingers suddenly wound their around her throat and he hauled her up onto her feet. “Well, can I?!”

“No, husband!” Ariana choked out. “I will endeavor to not shame you further.”

“You better not. I will not have my heir picking up the habits of filthy dog lords,” he snarled as he unceremoniously dropped her, and she collapsed onto the couch holding her belly protectively. Danarius halted as though he suddenly remembered that he needed to be gentler with Ariana for now. Finally, with a bored tut he left the room, giving no further instruction on how she might please him better.

She held a hand over where his fingers had been; the spots he held the hardest throbbed wildly. She glared after him like a madwoman: hair wild, teeth bared, and eyes were fixed on where he had last stood. Finally, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths she was able to slow her thundering heart. She slowly climbed to her feet, only wobbling a bit as she stood upright. A week of food and lots of sleep did wonders for her exhaustion, and now she blamed the bouts of uncontrollable sleepiness to her unborn child. Also, she no longer needed the cane which delighted her to no end. She hated relying on others for mobility, even if it had been nice for Fenris to have an excuse to carry her. Still feeling bone-tired Ariana went to her room where she could continue her nap.

---------

“Oh, you look absolutely delicious!” Nero purred as he attempted run his hands over Fenris’ armor.

“Are you serious?” Fenris barked and pushed the offending hand away.

“Serious enough but I can tell you’re not the playful sort,” Nero replied with a wink, and sensing his mark was not interested he instead went to the table and sat while waiting for dinner to be served.

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the newcomer when he noticed a blonde buxom woman sitting with the other maids. She was wearing their same gown, but she held herself differently, she seemed almost on edge.

“Where are Angelo and Mina?” he inquired of Selvig when the old elf passed by.

“Neither of them was to the master’s… tastes,” Selvig answered and Fenris understood.

“Normally I’d say that I hope Danarius keeps his hands off of the new servants, but it almost seems you’ve gone out of your way for just the opposite,” Fenris glared at Selvig from the corner of his eye.

“I have only fulfilled the wishes of those above me,” Selvig responded with a near hopeless shrug. He was uncertain about the mistress’ plans, but he would still do his best to make them a reality. After she returned from her ordeal they had a nice long chat, and he had made it his mission to obey her unquestioningly ever since.

“I see,” Fenris said, sensing the subject was to be dropped immediately.

“Orana, could I get some help?” Meredith called out to which Orana immediately pat her new friend’s hand and then darted into the kitchen to assist the cook.

Curious, Fenris decided to follow. When he entered the kitchen, he found Meredith frantically working while the other kitchen maids stood with their backs to the wall. One of them had tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed, “It wasn’t us honest! We don’t know how it got there!”

“Quiet! I have no time for you right now. I need to get our dinner ready, and then the dinner for the master and mistress….” She trailed off and suddenly struck the cast iron stove with a wooden spoon so hard that it snapped in half. “If I ever find out that one of you-!”

“What in Thedas is happening in here?” Fenris asked carefully as he stepped into the warzone. Flour was on every surface, a pot was bubbling over, and half chopped vegetables were piled in the sink.

“Oh Fenris! Can you hold a knife? I need some help with dinner,” Meredith answered with fervor in her eyes.

Orana shooed the other girls out of the kitchen, so it was down to just the three of them. She gathered Meredith’s hands into her own and gently asked, “What’s going on Meredith?”

Meredith gasped and dropped the broken half of the spoon before wrapping her arms around the young elf’s shoulders. “It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me, but I don’t know who it was, and I don’t know what else they did.”

“Is there danger?” Fenris asked, anger spiking in his voice. “I need to know.”

Orana sighed and finally nodded, “Earlier we discovered someone had changed the mistresses’ tea.”

“Her…tea?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “So, she got earl grey instead of peppermint?”

“No, the tea the midwife gave her,” Orana elaborated. “It was changed to one that’s meant to…get rid of pregnancies.”

Fenris took a step back as though he had been kicked in the stomach. “Does Ariana know?”

“No, and I don’t want to tell her yet,” Orana admitted as she chewed on her lower lip. “She already has enough to worry about and I don’t want to add to it until we know who it is.”

“I don’t agree with that,” Fenris growled, and the two women went quiet. “Regardless, what do we do now to fix this mess?”

“I might be able to help with that,” A soft voice came from the doorway that led outside. The trio turned to see a familiar face.

“Adrian?” Orana and Fenris asked in unison.

“ADRIAN!” Meredith cried out. She hurtled over to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him forcefully into the kitchen. “You can help me with the puff pastry!”

Between all of them they were able to get a pot of stew on the table for the servants. The newcomers ate their fill as though they hadn’t had a proper meal in years. Since returning Ariana had expanded the house budget for food. She told Danarius it was for pregnancy cravings, but she diverted most of the excess into the slave’s food stores.

As the cooks touched up the last of the food for upstairs Fenris hurried to the dining room.

“Very nice!” Nero quipped from behind Fenris on the stairs.

Fenris whipped around and glared at the laughing elf. “What are you playing at?”

“Nothing, yet,” Nero replied cryptically. “But with any luck I’ll be playing before the night is through.”

Fenris snorted and took the stairs two at a time now until they finally reached the door that led into the foyer.

“Do you even know how to wait a table?” Fenris asked, looking Nero up and down. The other man was dressed to perfection. The black and white outfit was freshly pressed, and his shoes gleamed in the faint light.

“It was one of my specialties at my last job,” Nero answered. “You have no idea how many magisters have a “naughty waiter” fetish.”

“I…don’t want to know,” Fenris admitted and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long night.

“Then let’s go find someone who does!” Nero chirped and motioned for Fenris to lead the way.

When they reached the dining room Fenris’ heart leapt when he saw Ariana sitting at her place of prominence next to Danarius. She briefly met his eyes, and he swore she smiled before she glanced down to the table.

When the plates arrived Nero expertly took Danarius’ from Fenris’ hands and placed in in front of the Master.

Danarius looked to Nero in shock with one eyebrow raised. “You’re… new.”

“I hired him and another woman this morning,” Ariana interjected softly.

“Who gave you that authority?” Danarius asked but he was so busy staring at Nero his voice didn’t have the usual acerbic tone.

“You did when you were gone to Kirkwall,” she said meekly. “You said that I was to maintain the house while you were away.”

“Hmmm perhaps that’s true,” he mused. Nero gave a low bow, his shirt gaped giving a perfect view of his collar bone. Ariana grinned, that was one of Danarius’ favorite places to bite and she had explicitly stated that it be displayed whenever possible. She was pleased that her instructions were being followed so well.

“Why did you take them on?” Danarius queried as he finally tore his eyes from Nero’s strong body.

“A maid broke an expensive vase that Maevaris Tilani gave me last spring, and a hall boy tried to cover up for her,” Ariana answered. Fenris furrowed his brow. That was not the story he heard.

“Truly? Did you have them killed?” Danarius asked with a curious tilt of his head.

“No, I sent them away,” Ariana replied and offered no further elaboration.

Danarius sighed and shook his head. “If you don’t put these slaves in their place they will never know how to obey properly.”

“I’m sorry,” Ariana murmured. “I’ll do better next time.”

He studied her for a moment. She wore a gaudy pink taffeta dress that did nothing for her skin tone. Her coral pink lipstick appeared garish and she had simply too much blush. The neckline stretched up to her chin and swishy bell sleeves brushed against the table in a way that irritated him. He found her lacking, especially when there was a more delectable treat on offer.

“You!” Danarius called over to Nero. “You will come to my chambers after dinner.” He then glared at Ariana in silent challenge, but she did not rise to his bait. Instead, she made a proper show of looking to her hands, head hung sadly, and staying silent for the rest of the meal. When it was over Danarius led Nero to his chambers looking as delighted as child with a new toy and left Ariana by herself in the dining room.

“That was not the story that Selvig told me,” Fenris said quietly as he approached his lover.

“Truly?” Ariana asked demurely, and after a few moments pause she stood and looked around the room. They were alone. “I wish to go to the garden.”

He blinked slowly as she slid past him, and he fell in step behind her. The garden was plunged into darkness, but she guided him down the path that led to the gazebo in the heart of it all. A chill breeze cut across them and Ariana shivered. Fenris wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest. Under the cloak of night all things were possible. Ariana smirked and gently kissed him, and he tentatively answered with his own.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice becoming husky from desire as her fingers stroked through his hair. “What is going on? Mina did not break a vase and that man is no regular house slave.”

Ariana nuzzled his throat before answering. “Nero is a prostitute I’ve taken on to sate Danarius while I’m pregnant.”

Fenris flinched and grasped her shoulders to push them apart. “You hired a whore?”

“Two in fact,” Ariana replied. “The other girl, Giselle, is here for the same reason.”

“How dare you put people at risk like that!” Fenris seethed. “Is it because they are whores? If a house slave is considered as low as dirt society states that sex slaves are less than worms.”

Fenris began to pace the gazebo. Ariana sat patiently on a bench waiting for him to finish ranting.

“How much did it cost? What price is worth throwing someone into that madman’s bedroom?!”

“May I speak?” she inquired gently. The softness of her voice caused Fenris to pause, and he gave a nod to indicate she may continue. “Both of them are aware of what they are in for. Both know Danarius and what he is capable of when he has sex. As for their cost…I bought them their freedom.”

“You what?” he stammered, utterly shocked.

“I have paid off their contracts and they receive a considerable wage while they are here. At the end of everything they are free to walk into the world, and make their own way,” she answered.

“Giving them money is tantamount to leaving them to the thieves and charlatans of the world. They will wind up a slave again before you know it,” he said bitterly.

Through the darkness he saw her shoulders droop and her head shake. “That is something I can’t control. Nero loves this lifestyle so perhaps he will consign himself to a brothel or pimp, but Giselle is different. Orana has already told me she’s an intelligent woman who just needs a chance. I’ve already suggested that when she leaves, she takes the money to go back to Starkhaven or even sail to Ferelden to start a new life.”

“What of Angelo and Mina?” Fenris asked with folded arms.

Ariana looked to his face, and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. “I freed them too. They wanted to get married and go Rivain, so I gave them money, and they are on a boat as we speak.”

“Hmph,” Fenris grunted and lowered his head. “Forgive me… I spoke out of anger. I can see that you’re not blindly throwing lives away, and I’m sorry that I doubted you.”

“It’s alright Fenris,” Ariana said and wiped her eyes. “Please know that I never do anything without thinking it through first and that I want only the best for you and the rest of the slaves.”

Fenris sighed and gathered her small hands into his larger ones. He knew he would struggle to reconcile the situation in his mind, but for now he needed to get something off his chest.

“Ariana, I have something I need to tell you. It’s about that tea you were served today…”

Chapter Text

Within the hour Giselle, Fenris, Orana and Meredith were crowded in Ariana’s room while she sat at her vanity facing the group.

“Tell me all that you know,” Ariana said pointedly.

Giselle was the first to step forward. “That tea that Miss Meredith brought down. I had a taste, and it was not raspberry leaf tea.”

“And you’re certain that it was black lotus?” Ariana pressed.

“Quite certain, mistress,” she said emphatically. “I’ve had to drink it myself a time or two, just for prevention’s sake, but the taste is unmistakable.”

Ariana looked between the trio and sighed. Fenris noted that her hand didn’t leave her belly.

“Who had access to the tea?” She asked, directing her eyes to Meredith who furrowed her brows in concentration.

“Everyone, mistress.” Meredith finally admitted. “Anyone who has access to the kitchen could have done this.”

“I feel like it couldn’t be a member of this house,” Ariana said as she bit her lower lip. “We haven’t had anyone new in a while. Why wait until now to try and harm me?”

“Perhaps because you’re not the target, my lady,” Fenris said, his low voice sending shivers down her spine. “Someone could have been waiting for months and now that you’re with child they act.”

All Ariana wanted was to cuddle under her blankets where it was warm and safe with Fenris’ arms wrapped around her. She felt her composure rapidly dissolving, and she waved to dismiss Meredith and Giselle. The two women gave a small bow and hurried back downstairs. Only Orana and Fenris were left, and Ariana began to tremble. Fenris went to her side, pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. Once in his strong embrace she broke down into tears.

“Mistress,” Orana murmured and stroked her hair. “It will be alright.”

“I need them found,” Ariana whispered. “I need them stopped.”

Fenris could feel the sadness and anger radiating from his lovers’ shoulders and he drew her face up for a deep kiss. When they broke apart, she saw the resolve in his brilliant green eyes as he vowed. “Your will is my own, Ariana.”

He led her to bed and held her until she fell asleep, Orana had long since gone to rest in the small nook off Ariana’s bedroom. They all had agreed that someone should always be near Ariana until the perpetrator was caught. It was well past midnight when he finally left her side, and he moved as silent as a wraith through the house. His eyes sought invisible attackers that could come from any shadow or be around any corner. Danarius’ room was decidedly quiet, but he could easily be using a silence rune or an old-fashioned gag to keep Nero’s vocalizations to himself.

Satisfied that there were no infiltrators in the main house Fenris descended the stairs to the slave’s floor. He went straight for the kitchen as though he might find the assassin in action, but it was only Giselle who sat at the table, drinking a mug of milk.

“I feel as though I ought to thank you,” he said carefully.

She shrugged, “It’s not like I did anything. I just noticed that my lady’s tea wasn’t right.”

“No one else saw it,” he insisted. “Next time she might have drunk it and then…she might…have,” his voice trailed off at the weight of the implication hit him. He leaned against the wall as though he was suddenly too weak to stand on his own legs.

“You two having a go?” Giselle asked, setting down her mug, peering at him curiously.

“What? No!” He snapped. “We’ve just been through a lot together, and I care for her deeply.”

“Normally, I’d say, ‘be careful’ and ‘the uppers only want two things and that’s to get their rocks off and to keep you under their bootheel.’” She began.

Fenris inclined his head and waited for her to continue.

“But your lady is a different woman. She bought me and Nero’s freedom. I’ve belonged to brothels and pimps since I was fourteen. She saved me, and I’m grateful.”

His lips turned up in a small smile as he retorted, “She is a unique woman, I’ll give you that.”

Giselle finished her milk with a satisfied sigh and bid him goodnight before heading to her own room. He glanced at the cupboards and felt a flood of protective instinct for Ariana and their unborn child.

-------

Nothing happened over the next few days. It could have been because Meredith’s dramatics had put the saboteur on notice, or because between the Fenris, Orana, Meredith and Giselle no one had access to be alone with the cupboard, but the inactivity was driving Fenris up the wall.

On the third evening after the other slaves went to bed Meredith sunk into one of the kitchen chairs and sighed as she ran her fingers through her wild red hair.

“Cheer up,” Giselle said gently. “Maybe we scared them off for good.”

“Not likely,” Fenris grumbled with folded arms. “Someone like that won’t stop at one attempt.”

“What if we asked the midwife?” Orana asked. “She might know where a tea like that would come from.”

Giselle snorted and shook her head. “Midwives are where you get the stuff. Them and apothecaries of course. I remember there was this old crone that came to the first brothel I worked at. She was a fierce woman, never took guff from anybody.”

Orana and Fenris stilled as they shared a look. It was as though a puzzle piece was locking into place and after a few long seconds he finally said, “Orana, I want you to go to the midwife tomorrow. Tell her you’re the maid for mistress Ariana and that someone ruined her tea, and that you need more.”

“What are you hoping to find, Fenris?” Meredith asked with raised brow.

“One of two things,” he replied. “Either we find out the tea is the right kind, and we keep hunting in our house, or we find the midwife is giving us the bad tea herself.”

Orana’s misty eyes fixed on him, and she nodded vigorously. “I will go right after breakfast!”

“Thank you,” Fenris said, his expression softened. “And I know Ariana thanks you too.”

-------

The morning gave way to the afternoon, and it wasn’t until just before dinner that Orana returned with the sachets in hand. Her eyes had a hard glint as she laid them out in perfect rows on the kitchen counter.

“What did you learn?” Meredith asked.

“A lot,” Orana muttered before hurrying to get Ariana ready for a meal with the master. Once safely inside Ariana’s bedroom she recounted everything to her mistress as she brushed out her long hair and wound it up in a simple bun. Ariana glowered as she balled up her fists in her lap.

“Please finish quickly, Orana,” she said. “I want to see these tea bags for myself.”

Despite the risk of being late for a dinner with Danarius she felt there were more important things at stake than being chastised by a cruel husband.

Fifteen minutes later Ariana stood at the kitchen counter and looked over the innocuous tea bags before her. There were twenty perfectly folded and sealed packets in total, and Ariana picked three at random. As she opened each one her fears were confirmed. They were all black lotus tea leaves.

The room was stiflingly silent, until finally Orana asked softly, “What do you want to do?”

Ariana’s eyes were filled with cold anger as she replied, “Call the midwife.”

------

The next morning Fenris met the carriage to escort the midwife into the manor.

“I heard it was urgent,” the old woman said mournfully.

“Yes, that is correct,” he responded almost mechanically.

“I’ll do my best for her and the baby,” she sighed with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “But know that these things can run a fast course, and it may be too late.”

He stayed silent and when they arrived at Ariana’s bedroom he knocked firmly.

“Come in!” Orana called out.

“Now, dear, I’m here and we’ll get you through this. I’m sure you’ll bear many other fine children,” the midwife said as she ambled into the room and set her bag on a highbacked chair by the bed. She didn’t bother to look up as she brought out vials of painkillers and coagulants.

“There shouldn’t be as much blood as last time thank the Maker,” she prattled. “We’ll just need some towels.”

Ariana gently cleared her throat and the midwife whirled around to see her patient very much healthy. Her jaw dropped and she began to back away from the bed as though it held a lioness and not a pregnant woman.

“Fenris,” Ariana commanded. He slammed the door shut and took his place between the old woman and her only exit.

“W-what’s going on? I thought you were miscarrying,” the midwife stammered.

“No one said that.” Ariana answered with a bitter smile. “All you were told is that you were needed urgently.”

“T-then…what is so blasted urgent!” The midwife bellowed, her face a deep crimson.

Ariana stuck her leg out of the bed and gave the midwife a coy grin. “I think I may have sprained my ankle. Could that affect the baby?”

“It. Would. Not.” The old woman looked fit to have a heart attack. “That is what you wanted to waste my time with?”

“That…and I want to know why you switched my tea,” Ariana answered with a frosty glare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the midwife sniffed and shrugged vacantly.

Orana stepped forward and dropped the pile of tea sachets at her feet.

“Clearly I grabbed the wrong ones…” the midwife stammered.

“No, see if that were the case, I would have forgiven it as just an innocent mistake, but these black lotus tea leaves are all inside the raspberry leaf bags. So, either you are trying to murder my unborn child, or someone is switching your supply.” Ariana said with deadly calm.

With a renewed sense of indignation, the midwife’s eyes snapped to Ariana and her face suddenly became unnervingly calm. “You can’t prove anything. I’m the midwife of the Imperium. You’re just a filthy nobody from Ferelden.” She pointedly glared from Orana to Fenris and quipped. “No one would believe a dog lord or her slaves.”

Ariana rolled her eyes and sighed, “I am so tired of being called that.” before nodding for Orana to open the door to her own small chamber.

“Would people believe him?” Ariana asked and watched as the midwife’s entire demeanor imploded.

“Henrik? How could you?” she whispered, eyes tearing up as she stared down her carriage driver. The same man that had been with her for ten years.

“It’s just not right, ma’am,” he muttered. “What ye do for the ladies in the brothels is one thing, but doing it to a magister’s wife without her knowledge? What are ye thinking?”

“How dare you grow a conscience now,” she snarled. “And after everything I’ve done for you and Molly.”

Unphased, he turned to Ariana and said, “As I told your maid yesterday, I drove my lady and her friend around the city one day. They wanted privacy and my lady wouldn’t bring the woman to her house. They talked about their plan to make you drink the bad tea. At first my lady refused but then her friend threatened her; said she was going to let the whole world that she wasn’t so fancy. That she served brothels and slave houses too.”

Ariana’s ears pricked at the words ‘slave house’. “This woman, was she about my age and height, with hair like gold and a scary yet seductive charm?”

The driver’s eyes looked to the ground as though ashamed. “Aye, that’s her. My lady has been seeing her since before I was her driver.”

“Ah I know Ceres quite well. What say you to that?” Ariana barked to the midwife who was quaking in her shoes.

“Forgive me,” the midwife gasped. “I couldn’t let her destroy me. After everything I’ve done for her and the people of this city, I don’t deserve to lose my position that way!”

Ariana contemplated the situation and drummed her fingers on her knee, finally she looked to the midwife and said, “I may have a way to save you, but you must do exactly as I say.”

“What would you have me do?” she asked her voice laced with defeat.

“We’re going to talk to my husband,” Ariana answered with a dark smile. “And he will fix things for us.”

Everyone in the room blinked in confusion at her words, but the plan was already forming in her mind.

------

Fifteen minutes later Fenris stood in the foyer with Danarius as he greeted his guests the magisters Amladaris and Erimond. Danarius had been spending more times with them as of late, but often behind sealed doors. The two men had hardly set foot inside of the house when a shriek pierced their ears from above.

“DANARIUS!!!” Ariana screeched like a harpy as she flew down the stairs. Her silk slipper caught on the last step, and she careened to a stop on the floor at his feet.

“What in the Fade-?” he growled with fists clenched at his side.

“She tried to kill your son!” she cried out and looked up to him with tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Explain,” Danarius hissed looking now to the midwife who came to a stop beside his weeping wife.

“Your cook called me to come right away. She said that the tea she was to serve your wife was bad and that they needed new bags. When I arrived, I found that all of them had been switched to black lotus leaves,” she said somberly.

The magisters looked to each other in shock, black lotus was used in a variety of magical preparations, and they knew that it could have abortive effects as well.

“Could it have been one of the slaves?” Danarius demanded and glared at his wife who trembled on the floor.

“No, the bags all had my seal on them.” The midwife answered.

“So you tried to kill my son then?” he growled, a tendril of red magic snaked around his hand which twitched with violent potential.

“She would never!” Ariana claimed confidently, raising her chin high. “She has only ever been a caring midwife at my side. She has been just as eager for this pregnancy as us. It couldn’t be her.”

 “Then who?” Danarius snarled, his rage needing an outlet not yet provided.

“Mistress Ceres,” the midwife stated clearly. “I’ve known the girl for years. She was angry when she found out that Ariana was pregnant with your son and I’m ashamed to say that I left her alone with my bag before I came here that day. She is your woman.”

“Impossible,” Danarius scoffed through bared teeth. “She would never do such a thing.”

“Husband,” Ariana said so softly that Danarius had to slow his racing mind to hear her clearly. “If you can say for certainty that Ceres has never coveted my position as your wife and mother of your child then I will say no more of this. However, if you can’t then please do not let this attack go unanswered.”

Ariana held her breath as she watched the conflict play out in Danarius’ mind. Erimond and Amladaris stared at their colleague in fascination. As the minutes dragged on Erimond leaned over to say something to his portly friend and almost as though a bubble popped Danarius’ entire demeanor changed. The red tendrils evaporated, and he was left with a frighteningly cheerful smile. He leaned down, grasped Ariana’s hand, and gently pulled her to her feet.

“Get some rest dear,” he said. “I have some social calls to make.”

He jerked his chin at Fenris who fell in step behind him with Erimond and Amladaris.

“Where are we going?” Amladaris asked.

“We’re going to go express my displeasure to a certain slave trader. First a slave she sold me abandons my wife to die and now this? I’m certain she is at home, and if not…we’ll go find her.” Danarius replied with an unearthly composure that set the hairs on Fenris’ arms on edge.

As soon as the magisters were gone Orana handed her mistress a handkerchief which Ariana used to wipe her wet cheeks.

“Your performance was astounding,” the midwife marveled.

“A survival mechanism, nothing more,” Ariana replied dryly.

“I thought it was good as well, mistress,” Orana beamed. “Though how do you know the baby is a boy? I thought it was too early.”

“Oh, it is,” the midwife chuckled. “But a little creative license never hurt anyone.”

“Indeed,” Ariana said. “I think you know this means I cannot use your services.”

The midwife nodded solemnly. “I figured. I wish you well, my lady. You and your child are healthy and strong. I have no doubt you’ll give the magister a fine son or daughter.”

With a deferential bow, Ariana stood aside as the midwife passed and left her life forever.

--------------

Fenris couldn’t hear the discussion in the carriage, the inhabitants had imbued the windows with a ward to avoid snooping ears, but he could only imagine the plans the three sadistic magisters were coming up with.

When they arrived at Ceres’ townhouse Fenris rushed to knock on the door. Just as the butler appeared a perfectly manicured hand yanked him away, and a familiar face appeared.

“’Rius!” Ceres trilled. “And you’ve brought friends. You naughty boy.”

She giggled lasciviously at the men, but their smiles promised only pain.

“’Rius? What’s going on?” she took a step back when Danarius remained silent. In the span of a few moments her glittering blue eyes turned from desire to panic. When the mental transformation from seductive predator to helpless prey was complete the three men pounced on her. Danarius grabbed her chin and slammed her back against the door frame leaving a trail of blood and golden hair strands in its wake. Erimond captured her scrambling ankles and hoisted her lower half over his shoulder. With a final bloodlust laced leer Amladaris grinned at Fenris and slammed the door in his face.

They say the screaming lasted all afternoon.

------

“I really don’t see it,” Ariana pouted.

“Really? I see it every time you turn, mistress!” Orana chirped from her vantage point behind the standing mirror.

Ariana lifted the hem of her nightgown and stared hard at her belly. It had been three months since the incident with Ceres, and it was the last she’d heard of the witch. Since then, the weather had turned for the worse and she spent most of her days bundled in layers or under blankets. Orana proclaimed that the weather was a fluke, and it would warm up soon.

“I guess,” she murmured and ran a hand over the pale skin which was finally beginning to round.

“What would you like to do today?” Orana asked.

Ariana looked out her window and watched as sheets of rain pelted the glass.

“I want some dessert,” she replied softly. Her nausea had largely subsided, and she was left with powerful cravings sometimes. Lately it had been for a certain dessert savant’s strawberry mousse and lemon curd filled donuts.

“You’re going to make yourself sick again if you eat too many sweet things before breakfast,” Orana chided.

Ariana clicked her tongue and began to dress herself. When she first started doing it a month prior Orana was quite distressed, and tearfully asked if she had upset Ariana. Who simply brushed it off and playfully replied that it was skill she had let fall by the wayside and she didn’t want to forget how to fasten button or tie a knot. That seemed to satisfy her friend and maid so now Orana sat on the bed with the hairbrush in hand waiting to style her hair for the day. As Ariana pulled the dark blue bodice on, she found that the tight sheath became almost suffocating when it came to her middle.

“Well, I guess I’m outvoted,” she chuckled and buttoned the garment with some effort. “It looks like I’m going to go shopping.”

------

The duo silently descended the stairs to the lowest level and Ariana’s mouth watered as she caught the smell of fresh baked pastry and bacon. She quickened her step and peeked her head around the kitchen doorway. Meredith and Adrian were talking and joking like old friends. Ariana grinned at how close they stood and how Adrian’s eyes sparkled as Meredith laughed.

“Oh! Hello mistress!” a kitchen maid squeaked when she caught sight of Ariana lurking in the hallway.

Embarrassed like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar she stepped into the kitchen with her head low.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said softly.

“Interrupt?  There’s nothing to interrupt!” Meredith trilled. Adrian cocked his head and cast his eyes back down to his task of dipping berries into chocolate.

“I see… well I was hoping to spoil my appetite with some of Adrian’s delicious creations,” Ariana said eagerly, her mouth already watering.

“Of course,” Adrian said with strained happiness and pulled a small pie tin from the cabinet. “I thought you might come down today, so I prepared this just for you.”

He set down the plate on the table and pulled a chair out for Ariana to sit. “What is it?” she asked, eyeing the thick whipped topping and candied lemon peel on top.

“A lemon meringue pie,” he answered proudly. “I hope you’ll like it.”

She dove into the dessert and before she knew it over half of it was gone. She couldn’t help but luxuriate in every bite of marshmallow meringue and tart lemon base. Finally giving into the feeling of a sugar shock coming on she pushed the plate away and took a long drink of water.

“As always dear Adrian your cooking is exquisite,” she said dreamily.

He took a bow and helped her to her feet.

“I truly believe you could have a career in Orlais or Antiva if you ever wanted to strike out on your own,” Ariana continued quietly.

His eyes widened and he looked around to see if anyone had heard her.

“Are you unhappy with me, mistress?” he whispered.

“Quite the opposite: I’m so pleased I want to see you succeed at the top of your career so that I might one day brag that the famous chef Adrian served me dessert himself,” she answered gently.

He faltered and looked down at the plate in his hands before admitting, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Just think about it,” Ariana said and grasped one of his large hands in hers with a firm squeeze before letting it go.

As she left the kitchen Adrian weighed her words in his mind. He had never thought about having freedom like that. It was both terrifying and exciting. He hoped that he would be brave enough to someday seize the opportunity, but for today he left it on the table.

--------

Sated from her sweet breakfast Ariana found Danarius in the library pacing and reading yet another report from Seheron. The situation was becoming dire, and he occasionally said that he needed to deal with things himself if he wanted them done.

Ariana politely coughed to get his attention and he whirled around to glare at her.

“What do you want?” he barked.

“I need to go buy new clothes,” she said with a bright smile. She set her hand on her belly and continued. “Our son grows bigger by the day, and my wardrobe needs to accommodate him.”

Danarius cocked his head, studying her before he commanded, “Come here.”

As soon as she got within reach his arm shot out and he pulled her against him. Her back was against his chest and her backside pressed against his cock which seemed to stir at her contact. His hand wandered down and she had to resist pulling away as his fingers traced almost lovingly over her stomach.

“I feel it,” he murmured. “You’re going to give me such a healthy son.”

“I am,” she nodded. “He will be big and strong.”

“Perhaps having such robust Ferelden breeding stock isn’t so bad,” he chuckled, and she felt that he was fully hard now.

Suddenly the door swung open and Fenris came in carrying a letter.

“Master this just came for-,’ he froze in place as he saw the spectacle before him. “I apologize for the intrusion. I shall return later.”

“No!” Danarius snapped; the lust filled moment over as quickly as it had begun. “Give me that letter.”

Fenris crossed the room, not looking at Ariana, and handed the envelope to his master. “They said it was urgent.”

Danarius tore open the paper and read over the missive three times before tearing to pieces and scattering them with a wave of his hand.

“Useless idiots,” he seethed and resumed his pacing.

“Husband?” Ariana asked gently, attempting to break him from his thoughts just for a moment.

“What?” he snapped.

“My clothes?”

“Fine, do what you need to,” he sighed exasperated. “Take Fenris with you. I don’t want my son in jeopardy just because you decided on a shopping trip.”

Ariana gave a grateful curtsy and practically skipped out of the room with Fenris following behind.

“What are we doing?” he asked as she climbed the stairs.

“I need to grab a few things. I’m getting some new clothes because these are getting a bit too tight,” she said with a light blush.

The meaning was not lost on him and Fenris felt a small welling of primal pride knowing it was his child that grew inside of her. When they reached her room Ariana made sure Orana wasn’t there before she locked the door and pounced on him.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered. They had more and more frequent interludes. It seemed once her nausea subsided her libido came in full force and when possible, they were fornicating like newlyweds. Though it had been a few days and she was pent up to say the least.

“You’re insatiable,” he gasped as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Only for you,” she purred and freed his already hard cock.

Pre-come glistened at the slit and she ran her tongue across the broad tip, enjoying the taste. Fenris held completely still, and she saw that his green eyes were dark from lust and his breathing was beginning to speed up. She was not done teasing yet though. She kept eye contact as she ran her tongue down the length of his shaft before gently kissing back up to the tip.

“Ariana,” he growled. She had playfully asked that he not take his own pleasure in hand, and to just save everything for her.

She giggled and leaned forward to cup his balls and kiss the seam that separated them. Through experimentation she had discovered the best ways to get him wound up. She lavished attention on the base of his member and testicles until he was panting and clenching his fists. Returning to the tip she saw thick beads of pre-come were leaking openly and kissed the tip once more, smearing the salty fluid on her pink lips. He moaned and his heavy cock twitched so hard she lost contact with it briefly.

“Ariana!” he hissed almost frantically.

Finally, deciding not to torture the man any longer she opened wide and began working the thick shaft down her throat. She braced her hands on the door and began to bob her head slowly at first then picking up speed.

“Fenehidis,” he groaned and canted his hips in time with her movements. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt his release rapidly building. His hand gently raked through her hair as he murmured praises and vocalized his pleasure. She hummed from delight, sending intense vibrations through his cock.

“Yes, Ariana, yes,” Fenris chanted, and his thrusts became more deliberate as he approached the edge of bliss.

Sensing how close he was Ariana reached up and massaged his balls once again. She gently pulled on them and stroked with her thumb, and that was it. Fenris bit back a cry of pleasure as he hurtled over the edge and he watched, fascinated, as she eagerly drank every drop. When she pulled back Fenris swept her up and bent her over the bed, arms bracing her upper body and her intimate parts exposed to him.

“Do you have any idea how it looked to see that bastard’s hands on you?” he snarled. She felt the slick head of his cock teasing her soaking wet entrance. “It was torture!” Suddenly, he rammed forward and filled her completely.

“You’re mine,” Fenris gasped. “You’re carrying my child. I wanted so badly to rip his arm off and shove it down his throat.”

Ariana smiled at the image and moaned loudly as Fenris picked up pace. The vulgar sound of their skin smacking together once embarrassed her, but now she found it incredibly arousing. Fenris’ pace was almost too much, and the solid wood bed shook with each thrust. Her legs quivered and she felt an orgasm on the horizon.

“If this dress is too tight then let me help you,” he murmured, and his fingers twisted in the fabric. In one movement it was torn open, and the shredded remains hung loosely on her arms. She whimpered and shivered. She was getting so close. His hand snaked between her legs and agonizingly stroked over her tender pearl which was swollen from arousal.

“Yes, let me feel you,” he crooned. “I want to feel you come on me.”

He cupped her mound and gently ground his palm against her most sensitive part and her body spasmed as stars exploded behind her eyes. He clamped a hand over her mouth just in time to muffle a cry of pleasure.

“Yes…” he hissed, and she felt his own orgasm deep inside her. His cock jerked with each wave of seed he filled her with. After several long moments he finally stepped back, and a thick rivulet snaked down her thigh. Ariana almost giggled at the thought that if she weren’t pregnant Fenris would have quickly changed that.

Fenris tenderly picked her up and sat on the bed with her perched on his lap. His hand rested on her belly, and he stroked their unborn child. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her hair. These were the moments he loved the most. After sex when they were still riding the high of an orgasm and just reveling in the joy of being together. He knew that those days were numbered, and he intended to enjoy them to the fullest.

“Maybe I’ll nap first,” Ariana mumbled, her eyes already heavy.

He chuckled and helped her out of the remnants of her dress before tucking her in. She soon drifted off and Fenris begrudgingly left her side before Danarius could come across the intimate scene.

-------

A shaky scarred hand grasped a crystal tumbler and brought it up to ragged lips. Cheap brandy splashed all over until finally she slammed the glass down and panted with barely contained rage. Things used to be so much better. The finest vintage alcohol, clothes of exceptional quality and comfort, drawers full of jewelry from admirers, and anything else she wanted was at her fingertips.

“You look like hell,” her guest smirked from the torn white linen couch that took over the space of the tiny office. So cramped compared to what they had months ago.

A single blue eye glared up, the other having been cut out and already healed over with a flap of skin. White teeth bared in a feral grimace she slapped the desk in frustration.

“I didn’t call you here to ask for your opinion, Hadriana!” Ceres roared. “I’m asking you to help me kill that Ferelden whore!”

Hadriana studied the formerly beautiful slaver. After her last encounter with Danarius, Ceres had to go in hiding as she healed. Her competitors picked apart her business like so many vultures and now she had no whores in her stable. She wasn’t even able to sell her own body anymore. Her most beautiful slave escaped with the guard that was the father of her unborn child, and the redhead was inevitably removed from existence by the wife of the magister she had drawn into an affair. Ceres had nothing left, and that made her even more dangerous.

“I haven’t seen her since she first came to Minrathous,” Hadriana admitted with a shrug. “I took her threat seriously and have only met with Danarius at the magisterium.”

“How did such a lowly creature cow a formidable mage?” Ceres taunted.

Hadriana’s eyes narrowed, and she shot back, “How did such a prominent businesswoman lose her face and her mind to such a dangerous magister?”

“I would have been fine!” Ceres screeched and threw the glass at the wall above Hadriana’s head. The brunette winced as she was showered with hundreds of crystal fragments. “If ‘Rius hadn’t married that bitch I would be sitting in that manor instead of her.”

“You really think that he would have taken you as a wife?” Hadriana cackled. “He barely had you as a mistress even before Ariana came into the picture.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Ceres ground out.

Hadriana hummed in contemplation. She also had an axe to grind with Ariana, but she didn’t want to jeopardize her position as Danarius’ apprentice for petty revenge. This might be the perfect opportunity to get a dirty job done.

“Tell me what you want,” she finally said with a curious tilt of her head.

A murderous expression bloomed on Ceres’ once ravishing face, and she told Hadriana of her scheme.

----------

Later in the afternoon Ariana, Orana and Fenris stood in the tailor’s shop. Normally he would come to the manor and do his measurements on the third floor, but Ariana claimed the closed quarters made her too anxious which was at least partially true. In reality she just wanted to get out of that damnable house.

So, she stood on the raised platform in front of five floor length mirrors, wearing a plain white shift, as the tailor draped different fabrics across her neck.

“This blue brings out your eyes!” he exclaimed.

Orana looked around the shop and shuddered at the dozens of mannequins that were packed in every nook and cranny. She kept expecting one to turn its head to look at her. She had a plan though. If that happened, she’d run like her hair was on fire and not stop until she got back to the manor. Ariana would understand, right?

“So, what would you like, my lady?” the tailor asked pointedly.

“I’d like eight maternity dresses in the colors we already discussed,” she replied and held up a piece of fabric that was as green as Fenris’ eyes.

“Eight? You’ll grow out of them quite quickly,” the tailor cautioned.

“I went to a baby shower of Madame Mouline’s friend, she had a special kind of gown where the belly had small panels that could expand as her baby grew,” she retorted with a small smile.

“Yes, well that is a new technique from Orlais,” he mumbled, quite flustered. “But I’m afraid I haven’t been able to practice it much.”

“Then practice on me,” Ariana said brightly. “I’m sure you can give us a small discount, and in return I can display your new fashions to all the other women. I’ve recently heard that there is to be a small baby boom so your business could grow as much as the women in Minrathous!”

He scratched his chin as he calculated the costs and benefits to such an arrangement. Finally, he gave a small clap and nodded. “Very well! Now what about your breasts?”

Ariana sputtered and nearly fell off the platform. Her face was flaming red, mirrored by Orana, and Fenris looked utterly baffled.

“Breasts tend to swell as a pregnancy advances, especially when they fill with milk and-,” the tailor was suddenly interrupted by Ariana frantically waving her hand to silence him.

“I’m sure it will be fine! If that happens, I’ll have you let out the fabric. Pleasedon’tconcernyourselfwithmybreasts!” she squeaked and folded her arms across her chest.

She looked to Fenris who was now studying her breasts through the mirror. She was tempted to throw her shoe at him, but alas she had taken them off already.

“Will that be all, my lady?” the tailor asked.

“No, I want three dresses for my maid,” she answered, Fenris stepped forward and gave her his hand so that she could step down easily.

“Your…maid?” the tailor asked slowly and glanced between Orana and Ariana.

“Yes,” she replied smoothly and went behind a dressing screen to don her dress. “Many female magisters and wives rely on their maids especially as their pregnancy advances. I need a companion, and I want her to dress fine as well.”

“I understand completely,” the tailor said with a solemn nod. “I shall strive to have her rival every other lady’s maid in the room!”

“I trust her to your capable hands,” Ariana beamed as she took a seat in an overstuffed chair and watched him work.

--------

They managed to get back home just before dinner. As Ariana stepped out of the carriage the clouds seemed to open wide and a sudden downpour drenched the three. Fenris placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the front door. The rain was so heavy she could hardly see in front of her face. Orana ran to the side of the house to go through the dedicated servant entrance. Fenris’ hand hadn’t left her back and she felt his heavy breath on her neck. She shivered as his hot tongue lapped up rain drops that raced down her throat and she felt a hot bolt to her core.

“Fenris?” she gasped, and his other hand reached up to stroke her cheek.

“I can’t help myself with you Ariana,” he murmured. “No matter how hard I try I find myself wishing to have you.” The hand on her cheek caressed downward and cupped one of her breasts. “I don’t care if they grow, they will always be the only ones I want to touch. To see. To have.”

Suddenly he let her go as a carriage rumbled along the street. He realized he was playing a dangerous game, and that someone could see them.

He rested his head against her back and groaned loudly, “Why do you make me lose control so easily now?”

She had no idea how to respond; her heart was thundering and felt about to burst out of her chest. She felt him sigh against her back and he murmured “I’ll see you inside” before he followed Orana’s footsteps.

Ariana touched her breast where Fenris’ hand had just been. She could practically feel his fingers still there, caressing and massaging the tender flesh. Tearing herself away from the thought she opened the door just enough to let herself in. In attempt to make as few puddles as possible Ariana slipped her shoes off and darted upstairs. She stripped from her soaking clothes and managed to towel off and dress before Orana arrived with damp hair still clinging to her forehead.

A short time later when she arrived in the dining room, she found that she was alone except for Giselle and another hall boy. She tentatively took her seat and saw that the place had been set for Danarius too.

“Where is my husband?” Ariana asked as she fluffed her napkin and placed in into her lap.

“He went to Magister Porenni’s estate, my lady,” Giselle replied with a head tilt. “He stated there was urgent business and that he would be away until tomorrow.”

Ariana sighed and shook her head. No matter, whatever kept him away from her and the rest of the household was all the better in her mind. As she took her first bite she froze and held her breath.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” Giselle asked and took a step forward. Ariana waved her away and shook her head fiercely.

“It’s nothing!” she half shouted. “Please, attend to your other duties. I’ll be fine.”

With a curtsy Giselle left and Ariana was completely alone. She held her breath and waited. Just as she was about to give up, she felt it again. A tiny sensation no bigger than the flap of a butterfly’s wings but the flutters caused her eyes to well with tears. Her baby was moving.

She quickly finished her meal and dashed upstairs where she shed her clothes and dove into the thick warm coverings of her bed. She curled in on herself and delighted in the sensation that reminded her that her child was alive and well. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and she wondered when Fenris might be able to feel the movement too.

----------

The next morning the rains finally abated and Ariana decided on a walk in the garden. She lingered on the winding path that led to the gazebo. Being in the center of the garden always felt like being in another world. One that was much simpler and purer than her own. She stood in the gazebo for nearly an hour, watching fat droplets of water drip from the smallest branches and catch the light pink colors of the sky above. She admitted the only thing that would improve this would be Fenris at her side, but he had gone to Porenni’s manor and wouldn’t be back until the evening with Danarius.

“Well hello Ariana,” a smooth voice purred from her side.

Her body went rigid, and her heart thundered in her ears. No, it couldn’t be.

Slowly she turned her head and looked to the man looming over her, daggers in hand. The brown leather armor, red hair that was shaven on either side of his head with thick trailing braids behind. His eyes were wild, and his grin was wide. But her eyes kept fixating on those green vine tattoos that snaked up his face.

“Mikael…”

Chapter Text

“Mikael…” she whispered.

“The very same,” he smirked. “You look well.”

“Thanks,” she replied dryly. “It hasn’t been easy since the darkspawn attack.”

His eyes clouded and his lips formed a tight line.

“You’re pregnant…” he said cautiously. “Were you…when…”

As he trailed off, her eyes widened as she understood the question.

“Yes, I was pregnant when the carriage was attacked. I’m lucky that both of us survived,” she answered, with her chin held high.

Mikael sighed and dropped to his knees in front of her. He twirled the daggers around and presented them for her use.

“Please kill me,” he pleaded. “I don’t deserve to live.”

“Mikael this is quite dramatic!” Ariana gasped, confused as she slowly placed the daggers on the gazebo railing. “What’s going on?”

After several long moments he finally told her his full story…

---------

It was just before dawn. The dry season was starting early, and it was blisteringly hot already. He slept naked next to his bride and held her against his chest. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the lingering scent of the flower wreath she wore in her silver hair during their wedding.

A pop sounded outside followed by several more. He groaned and shook his head. Some fool must have used wet firewood. A scream rang out across the camp, and he bolted upright. The sound was amplified and more joined until the whole clan was awake. Linea stirred and blinked sleepily at him.

“Mikael? What is it?” she mumbled.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, as he pulled on his pants and donned his daggers. “Stay here.”

He pushed the door of the aravel open and found himself in the middle of a hellscape. Mages slung fire spells, and the aravels of his friends and families were ablaze. A pair of armored men drug the hallakeeper into the darkness while a third butchered their magnificent white beasts. They had been penned up for the night and were easy targets for the one who laughed at their pitiful cries and spat in their blood.

“Where is the Keeper?!” Marva the craftsman cried out before she suddenly gurgled and said no more.

The voices of dozens of others rose many in anger and others in panic. A child wailed and throughout it all more mercenaries poured into the clearing. The fire gleamed off their black armor and they skittered about like beetles, filling every crevice of the camp. A man over a foot taller than Mikael bore down on him wielding a long iron club. However, what he had in brute strength he lacked in agility and Mikael easily danced around his gargantuan form.

“Stand still, you little knife ear!” his opponent bellowed and took a wild swing which caught Mikael in the chest.

He slammed to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs, and just barely managed to roll away as the mercenary brought the club down right where his head had just been. He slashed upwards with his dagger and caught the unarmored juncture of the thigh and pelvis. A fountain of blood sprayed him in the face and he sputtered, wiping it away as his opponent slumped lifelessly to the ground.

He staggered to his feet and wheeled around to survey the battlefield, but the mercenaries were everywhere now, and it seemed like more and more kept coming. Just as he picked a target to attack a whoosh sounded over his head and he turned to see a ball of flame the size of an apple hit the sails of his aravel.

“Linea!” he shouted. He flew to the door and attempted to wrench it open, but it was stuck. The screams of his bride and the thundering of her fists striking the wood drove him to madness. The roof went up like tinder, and Linea began sobbing frantically.

“O Falon'Din

Lethanavir - Friend to the Dead

Guide my feet, calm my soul,

Lead me to my rest”

“No!” Mikael roared and with one last yank he managed to tear the door from its hinges. Linea collapsed into his arms, and he cradled her as though it were the only thing left he could do.

“Such a pretty woman,” a sinister voice crooned from his side.

“Perhaps we could pass her around,” another answered.

“Over my dead body,” Mikael croaked, Linea had begun to shake in his arms.

“That can be arranged,” one of the voices cackled and then something inside of Mikael finally snapped.

The last thing he remembered was picking up his daggers and letting Linea go.

------

Sometime much later he found himself in a wood room. It had a soft couch, large desk and shelves filled with various trinkets from around Thedas. He was bound, gagged, and covered in dried blood on the floor.

“You’re a tough little man,” a melodious voice cooed from the doorway.

He looked up to see the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was a human, but her hair was the color of the golden halla, her eyes were blue like river waters and her full lips formed a gentle smile.

“What’s your name?” she asked and crouched next to his head. She wore a long white dress that flowed and shimmered with each step she took. Tenderly she removed the gag and waited patiently for his response.

“Mikael,” he coughed, his mouth was terribly dry.

“Let me help you,” she murmured and stepped from his view before returning a moment later with a crystal cup full of cool water. “Drink.” She urged.

He gulped it down greedily and gasped when his thirst was finally quenched.

“Better?” she purred.

“Yes, thank you,” he murmured before asking. “Where am I? Where is my clan? Where is my wife?”

The woman slowly circled the desk before taking a seat in the plush crimson chair behind it. Her gaze became one of amused calculation rather than concern.

“Those are a lot of questions for a man who hasn’t given me anything,” the woman sighed and swung her shapely legs upon the desk, he saw that the sandals she wore had gold threading and pearls woven through the bands.

“Excuse me?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

“What about what I want?” the woman pouted and rested her lips against her steepled fingertips. “I need things too Mikael.”

“W-what do you want?” he stammered.

“I need a fighter, Mikael,” she responded. “My champion was recently beheaded, and I have no one to represent me in the pit fights every week.”

She stared pointedly at him for an answer, and once he got over the shock of her request his anger reared its head.

“Are you serious?!” he screamed, he staggered to his feet, arms still tied to his sides. “I’ve been taken from my people; my wife and you tell me that you want me to fight for you? No way shem not happening.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly she raised her hand and knocked three times on the burnished black wood of her desk.

Almost as though she materialized from thin air a woman immediately entered carrying a covered tray. She was an elf, but she had no markings and wasn’t a member of his clan. She wore only a skirt that slung low over her narrow hips.

“That will be all,” his captor said with a dismissive wave when the tray was set down in front of her.

“Yes, mistress,” the elven woman mumbled before dashing back out the doors as fast as possible.

“Now, Mikael,” she said, her sweet voice now like nails on a chalkboard to his ears. “I think we are getting off on the wrong foot.”

He narrowed his eyes and slowly edged towards the door. He hadn’t seen a guard so maybe if he made a break for it, he could escape, and get back to his clan.

“Want to see your clan?” she asked cheerfully, almost as if she had pulled the thought from his head.

He paused and nodded his head slowly. Her lips drew back in a vicious smile, and she pulled the silver lid off the tray. The sight made Mikael retch as he lost feeling in his legs and collapsed.

Fingers. A finger from every man, woman, and child then across the macabre pile lay a lock of silver hair.

“Play along, and I’ll let them all go,” she said and added with emphasis as though she were speaking with a child. “Every. Last. One.”

“Fine,” he snarled. “I’ll do it, but you can’t hurt them again, got it?”

She clapped her hands and two burly guards appeared. They were not gentle as they hauled him to his feet, but he ignored the pain and glared daggers at the woman who now held him, and his clan, hostage.

“I promise,” she said with her hand over her heart. “I will not harm them anymore so long as you give me what I want.”

“What if I can’t give you what you want?” he asked.

“Then once I finish selling every last one of them I will sell you to a slave owner more evil than you can imagine. Your life will be a nightmare until you eventually take your own life,” she replied, still wearing a girlish smile.

So that’s how he came under the service of Ceres, the third most powerful slave trader and with a brutality that was all her own.

-------

Two years.

That’s how long Mikael had to fight in the pits for Ceres. Several times a week he was taken to a new location. The arenas in Tevinter’s even darker underbelly seemed without end. There were many times Mikael almost died, and twice as many that he just wanted to collapse and let his opponent finish him off. However, he couldn’t, he had his entire clan relying on him and he refused to let them down. Whenever he asked Ceres about them, she would merely laugh and claim that they were safe. He clung to false hope, but deep down he knew they were either dead or just as trapped in the flesh market as he was.

It took one month for Ceres to force Mikael to perform as a lover. At first he refused but with the right drink or scent and stimulation he found himself an unwilling participant. She always demanded to be on top in the place of power. It didn’t take long for him to learn to play along though. An extra ration, an actual bed to sleep in, a warm blanket, these were the things he whored himself out for, and Ceres obliged. After the end of each disgusting encounter, he thought of Linea and silently begged for her forgiveness.

--------

It was late spring when Ceres pulled Mikael from the small cell that she kept him in when she wasn’t bedding him or taking him to a fight. The tiny room was barely big enough for the bedroll that touched each wall. The only window was high in the wall, too high to get to, and the door had a barred window and small hatch at the floor for food to be passed through.

When he arrived at Ceres’ office he found her writing a letter, and she remained silent as he stood there waiting for her orders. Twenty minutes passed before she finally looked up. She leaned back and the sheer gold material of her top gaped to expose her large breasts.

“Mikael, darling,” she smiled, setting his teeth on edge. “I have a special job for you.”

He inclined his head and waited for her to continue.

“I have a dear friend,” she began and twirled the pen in her fingers. “His wife requires a guard, and I think you’re perfect for the job.”

He blinked slowly and his brow furrowed. Guard work wasn’t something he’d done before. Ceres only kept him as a fighter and had always had a stout dwarf named Rolf at her side.

“Wouldn’t someone else be a better choice, mistress?” he asked, “I don’t know how to guard.”

“No…but you know how to kill,” she giggled. He shook his head as though to clear his ears and looked at her in shock.

“Kill?” he croaked.

“Yes, she burdens my friend. I wish to free him from his marriage so he might…look elsewhere,” she replied.

Mikael suddenly understood. This wasn’t purely altruistic; Ceres wanted to insert herself into this woman’s position once she was eliminated.

“No,” he said defiantly. “I won’t kill an innocent woman.”

“Innocent?” Ceres cackled. “This woman is married to one of the worst magisters in the imperium and she has been taken under his wing. She kills her slaves on a whim and bathes in their blood.”

The dramatics were not lost on Mikael, but he faltered a bit.

Finally, Ceres grinned, and put on that same almost innocent expression she wore that first day they met. “If you do this last contract for me, you can finally rejoin your clan.”

It felt like he took a fist to the belly, and he gasped at the offer. Freedom. Freedom from this harpy and this wretched city. Free to run on the plains and sleep in an aravel at night next to his wife. It was everything he ever wanted, and he would do anything to make that dream come true. Casting aside his reluctance and moral despair Mikael nodded and said firmly, “I’ll do it.”

--------

Ceres left for Kirkwall with her paramour shortly after. She fitted Mikael with leather armor and a sword to wear on his back. He chafed at the weapon, preferring his daggers instead, but she insisted so that is what he wielded.

On a bright sunny day, he sat anxiously in a carriage, the first he’d ever been in as he was delivered to the manor of Danarius, a well-known sadist in the slave world. He dreaded meeting the monster that was his wife. He heard she’d recently lost a child, and he was conflicted with sympathy and solemn gladness that another slave owner wouldn’t be born. When they arrived, he opened the door for himself before the driver could get down from his perch. The manor doors were open, and he could see a glint of a color from his vantage point.

An old man’s voice carried over the din of the road, “You will need a guard while you are out of the house, mistress. Master Danarius would not forgive me if you were to come to harm while he was away. Fortunately, the broker who works with the house was finally able to find a suitable candidate. Please meet Mikael.”

Slowly he ascended the stairs and when he finally saw his new mistress he internally snarled from rage. Blonde hair that was just a bit lighter than Ceres. Her blue eyes were sky blue compared to Ceres’ sapphires. She wasn’t as buxom or beautiful, but the similarities were there, and they angered him. Perhaps if he imagined Ceres when he dealt the final blow it would make killing this woman much easier.

When she was introduced to him, she seemed to shrink back away from him. He intimidated her. Good. She was going to a tea party, one of those posh events that nobles threw and pretended that their entire estate wasn’t run on the back of slave labor.

“Hello, Mikael,” his new mistress said with a cautious nod.

He placed a hand over his heart and bowed low before her. His frustration was bubbling and threatening to spill over. When he next looked into her eyes, he saw what he thought was a flinch.

“Lady Arida is waiting,” she said to the butler. “Please have a light supper waiting for me when I return at eight.”

The old elf bowed his head and left them alone, and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

“Lead the way, mistress,” he finally sighed when it seemed she was frozen in place like a frightened halla.

------

He was stuck outside during her tea party, and he spent the entire time pacing around the carriage like a lion circling its prey. This was not right. He was to be in there and watching everything. The butler would want an account of her actions and he was stuck inside. His first day as a guard and he was already failing.

When she finally came out of the estate he managed to wait to scowl until she was in the carriage, and he was clutching the pole on the back. Once back at the manor he opened the carriage door, and she was pressed against the far wall. He was tempted to climb in and yank her out when she slowly began to speak. “I had a lovely time. Lady Arida and I had a spa day. Her lady’s maid took care of us, and you were down in the kitchen for most of the day. When you saw me next, she and I were having tea in the gardens. The begonias were in bloom. We spoke nothing of our husbands, and she comforted me for my recent loss. That’s all.”

He felt a chill run through his chest. She was helping him. Why was she helping him? He mechanically helped her from the carriage and the duo met the butler at the top of the stairs. The rest of the night was a blur but one thing resonated in his mind – she didn’t have to help him, so why did she?

--------

The three months passed in a blur. Every time Mikael found Ariana he was unable to complete his deal with Ceres. She seemed to constantly have her maid or the butler by her side. As he watched Ariana in action, he found that she wasn’t the cruel overlord that Ceres had claimed. Another lie from the harlot’s mouth.

The morning of Danarius’ return Mikael sat eating his breakfast while the maids ran around frantically, trying to ready the house for his arrival. He was at the kitchen counter because it was the one spot that didn’t seem to be chaos.

“Tell me about the master,” Mikael asked between bites of farina.

Meredith stiffened slightly before shaking her head. “Just stay out of his way,” was all she would say.

“Hmph,” Mikael snorted. “Does he have a guard as well?”

The cook snickered, turned dough onto the counter in front of him and began punching it down. “Yes, his name is Fenris, and I suggest you stay out of his way too.”

“I really should know who I’m working with,” Mikael said, attempting to channel the same charm he had watched Ceres use on her clients.

“Well, he’s an elf just like you, but he’s…different,” she said, trying to choose her words carefully. “Fenris went through a process that gave him lyrium brands. Never ask him about them. I will only warn you about that once.”

“Did the brands change him?” Mikael asked, setting his spoon.

She shrugged, “I have no idea. One day the Master brought in this young man, barely alive, with these white marks all over his body. He dumped him off in a room down here and told us to care for him while he healed. The brands were very painful for him, and sometimes he’d wake up the whole hall screaming in agony. I think they still hurt today, but if they do he never lets on.”

“Sounds extreme,” Mikael commented.

“It makes him powerful,” Meredith said, looking up from her dough. “He’s also protective of the mistress so don’t step on his toes.”

He snorted and stood from his seat. He’d fought in the pits for two years. He’d felled men twice his size and always managed to somehow survive. An elf with some magic tattoos wasn’t a match for him.

“I’d better get on with my day,” he said with a polite nod. “Thank you for the food.”

Slowly he walked through the manor and watched the other slaves scurrying around, washing windows, dusting shelves, beating rugs outside in the early autumn air. He hadn’t seen his mistress at all, and it caused a nervous welling in his stomach. He needed to keep track of her just in case his perfect opportunity came up.

When he reached her room, a booming voice came from downstairs. It was authoritative and intimidating. He paused and realized that must be the Master. Danarius went to the library and shut himself inside. Just as he was about to knock on Ariana’s door, he heard her soft voice rising from the outside by the carriage. Just as he reached the foyer Danarius opened the door and snapped his fingers.

“You! Get the mistress. Now.” He ordered and slammed the door once again.

Mikael was shocked that Danarius just assumed he was someone to be ordered around and that he trusted a stranger with a supposedly important task.

 As he approached the entryway, he saw Ariana shyly smiling at another elf with pure white hair wearing black armor and wicked looking gauntlets. Mikael cocked his head as he studied the brands from afar. They almost made him think of full bodied vallaslin. Ariana and Fenris spoke too quietly for him to understand what they were saying but by the looks on their faces they were sharing a special moment.

“Mistress, the master wishes for your presence in the library.” He practically purred. He was eager to size up this Fenris without her there. Fenris looked up and locked eyes with him. Moss green eyes were filled with cold contempt, and he couldn’t help but laugh inside.

Ariana cast Fenris one last smile before she brushed past Mikael to hurry into the house.

“Who are you?” Fenris asked with his arms folded. His chin was held high, and Mikael knew he was being assessed as well.

“My name is Mikael,” he said with a small bow. “I am the guard to our mistress.”

“I am Fenris. I guard the master,” was the clipped reply.

Mikael nodded, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Believe all of it,” Fenris snapped and walked past Mikael into the house.

The scent of lyrium clung to his skin, and Mikael felt a strange aura radiate from his body. When he was close enough to touch Mikael noticed the subtle details. The well-defined muscles, the bruises and bite marks on the skin that wasn’t covered, and the way he exuded a deadly confidence. Mikael watched Fenris disappear into the house, and he exhaled a breath he’d been holding. A kernel of panic was growing in his chest. This was a complication.

--------

Mikael finally acquired daggers. The armory of the manor had a variety of weapons, and he was easily able to switch out his long sword for a more comfortable pair of daggers. Only guards were allowed inside, and one needed the key from the master to enter it… or a lockpick.

He found himself in a small courtyard sectioned off from the rest of the garden which had piles of dummies, bales of hay and an assortment of other targets. He stripped off his leather top and set up a few dummies for practice. After a good stretch he danced and whirled around his targets. Slashing and feinting and building speed until the world spun around him in a blur of colors. His eyes never left the neck and in a final slash he skewered the target that covered the heart and slid behind the other using his dagger to slice the neck so viciously it rolled off and came to a stop at the feet of his new workmate. He didn’t know how long Fenris had been standing there, but the man’s eyes were studying him intently.

“I’ve never seen a Dalish slave,” Fenris observed, and Mikael flinched.

Feeling a flash of molten anger, he grit his teeth and snarled. “I am not a slave. I’m simply fulfilling a contract between the master and the broker.”

Fenris laughed dryly, “Your life is in Danarius’ hands. He could kill you at will. You are a slave whether you care to admit it or not.”

Mikael’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. There was something that resonated with him. He had never actually been paid for his work, never had agency to choose his meals or lodgings. Everything had been at the whims of Ceres who demanded he call her mistress at all times. Knowing that freedom was on the horizon he preferred to think of himself as an unwilling servant and not a slave.

“Care to spar?” Fenris asked. He peeled the leather chest piece off and drew his own sword. “First blood loses.”

The form which Fenris carried himself was professional. It wasn’t like a lot of the hacks from the pits who held swords like clubs or like snakes that might bite them if they hold them too long. Mikael blinked slowly before nodding his head. He was fixated on the sight of Fenris. The brands extended down beyond the top of his pants, and more than that the trail of bruises, bite marks and small cuts were littered all over his back and torso.

Mikael readied himself then waited…and waited. Fenris almost looked bored which frustrated him to no end, and he finally lunged at the pale haired elf. Fenris parried the strike and swooped his sword around for an attack of his own. Mikael leapt away and feinted to the right as he struck out at Fenris’ side. He grinned at his imminent victory but at the last moment his opponent twisted away and the dagger point sailed by harmlessly. Twisting the second dagger in his opposite hand Mikael slashed wildly now. His aggression was his downfall though and Fenris dodged once more. A quick sword slash and Mikael felt his shoulder split open from pain.

He hissed and leapt away from Fenris, holding his wound and the blood quickly flowed past clenched fingers. “You’re fast,” he snarled.

“And you’re cocky,” Fenris replied and sheathed his blade. “The last guard who got cocky was killed. I recommend you reign it in before you get yourself, or the mistress, hurt.”

Mikael bared his teeth in anger and snarled. Fenris rolled his eyes, shook his head, and donned his armor as he said. “Go get yourself patched up.”

Movement just over Fenris’ shoulder caught his attention and Mikael smiled proudly. Ariana was walking towards them, and she looked upset. “No need,” he murmured.

“What’s going on?” Ariana called from the archway that led into the house.

“We’re just training, mistress,” Mikael answered with a deferential bow of his head.

“I see that,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

She walked past Fenris to Mikael who delighted at the jealousy that flashed across the other elf’s features. Her magic was warm and comforting as it entered his cut. He shut his eyes and languidly enjoyed the almost pleasurable way it soothed him and took away his pain. This wasn’t the first time she had healed him.

Once while practicing lunges his dagger slipped and sliced across his palm. She insisted that she could help him and he obliged her. He only wished he’d had such an eager and proficient healer when he had been in the pits. Occasionally Ceres would hire one to heal his grievous wounds so he wouldn’t die or to heal him for a fight the next day, but that was it. Most wounds he healed on his own naturally.

When Ariana was done with his shoulder he gave his thanks and quickly exited the courtyard. He had wanted to test out Fenris’ capabilities and what he learned troubled him. He would have to wait until Fenris was gone before he killed Ariana. There was no way he’d get out alive if that white haired freak was anywhere near her. A small stab of guilt hit his heart. She wasn’t a bad person, she was just in a bad situation. He shook his head and growled in frustration. No, it was her or his clan and he had to chose his people every time no matter what.

Once inside the house he began to meander around. He’d already mapped the entire place in his mind, but he still kept an inventory of every nook, cranny, and shadow he could use when he finally completed his task. As he climbed the main staircase he saw Fenris come barreling out of the stairwell by Ariana’s room, eyes wild and panting. Orana followed soon after and Mikael chuckled, a secret affair between guard and maid? They spoke so quietly he couldn’t hear, but not long after Ariana appeared from the stairwell and Mikael went still. What was a highborn woman doing in the slave’s stairs? She and Fenris shared a shy look and the realization dawned on Mikael that Fenris’ attention might be a bit higher than a lady’s maid. Silently, he snuck away to process the information. The complications kept piling on and getting worse.

--------

Mikael sat in his room rolling the crystal vial in his hands and watched the clear fluid slosh around. Ceres had given him explicit instructions and he was mentally bracing himself for the days ahead. He dabbed a drop behind each ear and tucked the vial in his shirt. He took a few experimental sniffs but found there was no difference. With a shrug he made his way to breakfast only to find that the perfume did indeed work.

Meredith and the maids fawned over him, and he shamelessly enjoyed the attention. He was tempted to see how far these women would go for him, but Fenris entered the kitchen as he weighed that thought. When Fenris passed by Mikael watched with amusement as he paused and took a deep breath through his nose. He wondered if Fenris would also be seduced but when those green eyes fixed on him, he saw a very different emotion. It was almost primal, and Fenris looked eager to fight.

Sensing that he needed to make an exit before he got into a needless brawl Mikael stood, cracked his knuckles, and looked directly at Fenris who looked almost frantic. “I had best get ready for the day. I think I will check on the mistress.” Green eyes suddenly flashed with rage and Mikael chuckled internally as he left to find Ariana. It was time to set the plan in motion.

--------

It didn’t work. Ariana didn’t seem phased by the perfume and then he had to make to idiotic mistake of losing it! Somehow, she must have found it because at dinner she had smelled divine. He had almost thrown her down on the table and taken her then and there, Fenris be damned.

So now Mikael was kneeling in the ice-cold shower and pumping his hard cock in his hands. His mind was racing. Ceres, Ariana, Linea. He couldn’t settle on who he’d want to be inside right now. He shuddered as his cock spasmed, and he orgasmed hard on the stone floor. Three. Three should be enough, right? He was on his hands and knees panting and staring at his cock which still stood, defiantly demanding more pleasure in order to be sated.

With a helpless groan he took himself in hand and started over again while silently pleading that four would be the magic number.

--------

The next morning Mikael was finally calm again, and his cock was sore from all the attention it received. The final number was six. He knew that if he had somehow seduced Ariana he would have collapsed halfway through the night. Who in Thedas had that kind of stamina?  

Mikael avoided her all day, he mostly wandered the house and tried desperately to figure out how he would explain things to Ceres when she returned from Kirkwall. Close to sunset he heard the door to Danarius’ quarters quietly shut and limping footsteps coming down the hallway. What he saw made him pause.

Mikael had heard stories about Danarius’ violent appetite, but when he saw Fenris he knew the tales might not do the horror justice. Without thinking he blurted, “Fenris?”

Fenris turned with a murderous glint in his eyes and hoarsely he snarled, “What the hell do you want Mikael?”

He stepped forward to see Fenris better in the setting sunlight. His chest armor was in shreds with scratch marks and cuts peeking out between the gaps. Every part of him had bruises, bite marks or both. In that moment Mikael felt like he understood the man better. Although not as brutal Ceres could be a sadist in bed, and he had also walked away bloodied and bruised in the past.

Finally with a nod Mikael said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Afterwards neither of them said a word about what happened, but Mikael had a newfound respect for Fenris and how he survived his torment with silence.

--------

Fenris was acting weird. He was avoiding Ariana like the plague and had a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

“Does he always brood so much?” Mikael asked Meredith one day when Fenris ate three bites of his breakfast and then left, handing the rest to the youngest slave at the table.

Meredith burst out laughing and a few people at the table giggled. “If brooding were a sport Fenris would win every tournament.”

That night they attended a play. Danarius had decided the two elves would wear matching black armor and when Mikael looked, he found that Fenris was avoiding eye contact with Ariana and standing as far away from her as possible.

At the afterparty Ariana was accosted by some fat magister. Mikael looked over to Fenris who stood concealed in shadows. His face was pained, but he still didn’t move. Danarius sat by and smirked at his wife’s distress. Just as the magister was about to run his grubby hands over her body Mikael slipped between the two and growled, “My mistress needs to pass.” The man recoiled and Mikael delivered her safely to the beverage table. She thanked him sincerely then once she was safe and sipping her drink Mikael melted into the crowd again to take his place by Fenris’ side. He kept glancing over and found the other elf watching Ariana the entire night.

“You could have done something,” Mikael stated quietly.

“It’s your job to protect her,” Fenris spat back. “I protect the master.”

“Uh huh,” Mikael said. “Then why haven’t you taken your eyes off her all evening?”

Fenris whipped around and glared at him, but it no longer phased him. Mikael stood, arms folded, leaning against the wall, and staring expectantly at Fenris for an answer. Finally, Fenris snarled a curse and stomped over to where he had the best vantage to see Danarius. Something was going on between those two, but Mikael didn’t know what.

An hour later Fenris materialized at his side and growled, “Danarius wants to go. Tell the mistress.”

Mikael complied, and when he saw the joy and relief bloom on her face at the news. In a small way he felt proud that it had been him who made her feel that way.

The carriage ride over had been hell. It started out normal enough but not long after it took a turn for the worse. Inside was a muffled conversation followed by a loud crack as something hit the window. Fenris and Mikael looked around frantically for attackers when they heard Ariana cry out in pain and Danarius murmured something in return. Her whimpers and soft cries as he brutalized her were horrible to hear, but then she started screaming. It was the scream of someone who was trapped and in pain. Then abruptly, he roared, and Mikael knew Danarius had found his release.

When the carriage finally stopped in front of the manor Fenris opened the door, and Danarius exited looking as composed as when he had gone in. Fenris stood for a moment longer, his shoulders tense until finally he ordered Mikael to get Ariana’s maid. He caught sight of her before Fenris shut her inside and he was disquieted. She had sat on the ground with the tattered remains of her clothes clutched to her body. Blood caked her hair and her throat, her breast had pronounced bite marks, and her cheeks were wet from tears.

Mikael returned with Orana a short time later and watched as she escorted a trembling Ariana from the carriage. He felt disgust and anger, but not at her. No, it was the entire situation where Danarius and Ceres were toying with other people’s lives for their own fun. He would give anything to drive his dagger into that harlot’s heart, but he knew he’d never get the chance.

--------

Ceres’ slave market.

Mikael felt his heart freeze at the sight of the place he had been forced to call home for two years. It even smelled the same. He must have stopped walking because Fenris suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him into the last place he ever wanted to be.

He kept his eyes down as they walked though the different slave paddocks. He wanted to avoid Ceres as much as possible. As they reached her office, she caught his eyes and he say the rage and silent threat that he would pay for failing. She quickly followed Danarius and Ariana, and just as he gave a sigh of relief it felt like his chest was torn open. His back blazed from pain, and he could barely breath due to the metal vice that was clamped down on his heart. His shoulders were illuminated blue from something behind him and Fenris’ deadly calm voice whispered in his ear, “Today this is a warning, but when I find out what you’re up to with that woman I will tear your heart out and throw it to the dogs.

When Fenris left him retching and gasping his mind raced through various plans that he could try and execute. He needed something to make Ceres happy, he needed something that would work, and a strange, terrible plan suddenly hatched in his mind. He needed a grey warden.

-------

It had been a nightmare week. He managed to sneak out of the manor late one night and went to Ceres’ posh office that was attached to the back of her market. He didn’t want to enter through the market ever again.

“Why shouldn’t I kill your entire clan and you right now?” she asked in a deadly calm voice. She had dropped the subterfuge and wasn’t even trying to appear coquettish anymore.

“I-I… the vial was stolen,” he stammered. “I don’t know how it happened, but I wasn’t able to have sex with her, and you were already gone so I couldn’t get more.”

Ceres sighed and pressed her fingers against her temple, a sign she was getting a headache. “Mikael you disappoint me. I’ve given you some of the best opportunities possible and yet you keep failing at the simple task of KILLING AN UNARMED WOMAN!!!” She finished by slamming her hands against her desk and standing to screech at Mikael like a feral cat.

“I’m trying, really!” he stammered. “I just can’t seem to get her alone, and Fenris was with her almost all of the time-.”

She held up a finger to shush him and her eyes narrowed. “She spends time with Fenris? Danarius guard?”

“Well not much anymore. They had a falling out after the vial was stolen, and now he can’t seem to stand her,” he replied.

“Does he still watch her all the time? To the point it seems he ignores everything else?” she inquired, her voice growing in excitement.

“Well yes, I guess,” Mikael muttered. “He refuses to go near her, but I’ve found him several times just standing in the shadows staring at her.”

Ceres threw her head back and cackled. The same sound from when he first met her, and he felt a bolt of dread.

“Oh Ariana, sweet little slut Ariana,” she cooed and ran her fingers along the golden chain she wore around her neck. “I have a feeling those two did exactly what I told you to accomplish.”

Mikael blinked slowly and Ceres sighed as though he were a child that frustrated her. “They had sex.”

In an instant the puzzle pieces fell into place. The way they stood closer together than was normally proper. The way Fenris looked at Ariana when they he thought no one was looking, as though he adored her, and the shy affectionate expression, she returned to him. Could it be true?”

“So what do we do about this?” Ceres mused to herself.

“I have an idea, mistress,” Mikael murmured. “Ariana has received an invitation to visit Lady Aquinea’s country estate for a lady’s retreat. Danarius is balking and wants to refuse. Get him to say yes and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Ceres’ eyes lit up like stars in the night sky, “Oh Mikael. You devious little creature. Do I get to know what you’re planning?”

“It’ll be a surprise,” he answered with a tight smile. “But I need a favor. I need to talk to a grey warden.”

Ceres raised one perfect golden eyebrow and cocked her head. “Now I’m exceptionally curious.”

“You’ll be most pleased, mistress,” Mikael answered with a bow. “Just help me find what I need and Ariana will be out of the picture within the month.”

That’s how Mikael found himself the last day of the week standing at the doorway of Fenris’ room saying softly, “Because I thought you’d like to say goodbye.”

Mikael knew that despite his odd behavior at his core Fenris did care for Ariana, and out of respect he wanted to give him a chance to bid farewell before she was led to her death.

---------

Everything was going to plan. The night before their departure he had managed to bribe a slave at the Gereon manor to make several cuts on one of the wheel’s spoke ends. As intended, one snapped in half a few hours outside of Minrathous and forced their little procession to take a detour to a small inn. When he saw the grey warden’s, his heart leapt into his throat. One had brown hair and the other was blonde. As they met eyes the wardens nodded, and he realized it finally was happening. Ceres would get her wish.

After Ariana retired for the night, he went back to the common area where the grey wardens sat at a table.

“I heard one of you used to be a carpenter,” Mikael said loudly.

The brunette stood up and replied with equal volume “Yes, and I heard your carriage had a bit of an accident. I might be able to fix it if you would like.”

Mikael nodded stiffly and led them both to the stables. An identical wheel had been wedged behind bales of hay. Another detail Ceres had so lovingly taken care of. The three of them switched the wheel in record time. The stable was quiet except for the horses that watched the men and munched on hay.

“Got the gold?” the brunette asked gruffly.

Mikael pulled a sack of sovereigns from his shirt and handed it over. The blonde warden went to the stall his horse was in and returned a few moments later with an oil cloth covered package. It was the size of a large watermelon and weighed just as much.

“You know what you’re doing with that?” the blonde asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Very sure,” Mikael almost whispered, his mouth had suddenly gone dry.

The churning in his stomach told him that this was a bad idea, but it was too late. He needed to do this. He needed to see his clan.

---------

The morning they were to leave Aquinea’s manor Mikael snuck outside to set the trap. When he opened the oil cloth he gagged at the smell. It was a special poultice that grey wardens used for training, and it smelled like the darkspawn that it lured. He affixed it to an axle and hurried back in to take a quick shower and be in the foyer ready for Ariana’s departure. Felix escorted her down the stairs and she stifled a large yawn. Mikael had noted that she had been tired and sick a lot as of late. It was a small detail that he tried to brush aside but for some reason it stayed wedged in the back of his mind.

The sun had crept up and it was already midday. Mikael kept his eyes trained on the trees. This was a place his clan had avoided for decades. There was a small cleft that led to the Deep Roads far back, near a small stream, and darkspawn tended to lurk in the local area. The forest grew denser and turned into an almost black grove that blocked out all sunlight. Time stretched on and just as he was about to admit the poultice was a dud, he saw a glimpse of movement. It was a hulking shadow that moved slowly like a predator and followed the carriage. Soon more shadows joined the first and they began to move faster. No one had seen them yet and he faltered. He was leading them in a slaughter. At long last he realized that he couldn’t do this anymore and opened his mouth to shout.

“Darkspawn!”

The driver bellowed before Mikael had the chance, and then all hell broke loose. Mikael flung himself on top of the carriage and watched as the hurlocks slammed into the carriage and wrenched the door open. Lady Arida and Ariana screamed, and the monster tore back into the trees carrying a body. To his horror he saw what it did to Arida in that tree and the memory would haunt him forever. A high pitched screech pierced his ears and he looked down to see a shriek tearing into Ariana’s side. She cast an ice spell and managed to kill it in one blast.

What happened next was nothing short of miraculous. Ariana managed to stagger out of the carriage. Her dress was almost cleaved in half and blood ran down her leg. Felix was unconscious, the driver and the other guards were dead. Mikael was ignored in favor of a better, more delicious smelling prey. His tongue wouldn’t work, and he couldn’t call to try and distract them. Instead, he sunk to his knees on the roof of the carriage and watched helplessly as the battle unfolded.

Ariana slipped and fell against a tree before she slowly turned to face her pursuers. She raised her hands and pulled the veil towards her. It bent and morphed around her fingers like as though she were swirling her hands through water. Her breath came out in frosty puffs and then as though she were performing an intricate dance she waved her hand above her head, and the air exploded around her. The darkspawn roared and staggered as the wind blew faster and faster. Ice crystals formed and pelted the monsters until they couldn’t move anymore. They were frozen in place. With the last of her magic spent Ariana collapsed.

The thundering sound of hooves came barreling down the road. Mikael looked to see the grey wardens charging the darkspawn. His rescuers. Just as planned. They felled the last of the darkspawn and the brunette approached Ariana with sword drawn.

“Is this the one?” he called over to Mikael, who was too shocked and unable to answer.

“Tough little bird,” the blonde chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Won’t be hard to finish this.”

“Right you are,” the brunette wound up his arm but just as he began to swing his sword Mikael found his voice.

“STOP!”

He clambered down off the carriage and came to a stop at the grey warden’s feet.

“Don’t kill her!” he pleaded. “Just let her live, please I beg of you.”

“You’re a strange one,” the blonde warden said. “You paid us a good amount of gold to kill her.”

“I will pay you to save her then,” Mikael stammered and fished the remaining gold from his shirt. He pressed it into the blonde’s hand. “Please get her to town and save her.”

“Are you coming with?” the blonde asked as the brunette got his bedroll and wrapped it around Ariana’s legs to staunch the bleeding.

“No,” Mikael said. “There’s another man closer to the tree line. If he’s alive, then take him too please.”

With a shrug the blonde went to get Felix. Mikael watched the brunette warden cradle Ariana in his arms. Her face pale from blood loss and her body limp from exhaustion. So, Mikael did the only thing that he could think of in that moment.

He ran.

---------

He ran for days, stopping only for water or to eat mushrooms or moss. He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was he wanted to never see Ceres or Minrathous ever again. On the fourth day he came to a stop. This forest was familiar. His hands shook as he looked around. His eyes sought out a marker and after an hour he found it. A small heart carved in a pine tree with the initials M + L. He was almost home.

He knew this place like the back of his hand, and it wasn’t hard to track the way to the clearing where he and his clan had last been on that fateful night. He didn’t know what to expect to find, but it still destroyed him when he saw it.

Everyone was there.

The aravels were burnt out husks that had fallen apart from weather and time. In the center of the camp was a pile of corpses. They had been picked over by carrion feeders and were little more than bones, hair, and clothes. He approached it slowly as though it were a trap, but nothing happened. He counted and they were all there, and each one was missing a finger. And on top of the pile was the body of a woman with long silver hair.

Mikael fell to his knees and screamed from rage. It was a lie. It had all been a lie. Ceres had them slaughtered before he even woke up in that horrible office. Over two years of his life were lost because of that evil woman. He began to sob uncontrollably. Everything he had been waiting and hoping for was gone and he would never get them back.

He pulled his daggers out and slammed one into the dry ground. The other he turned on his throat and with shaking hands began reciting his own funeral rites:

“O Falon'Din

Lethanavir - Friend to the Dead

Guide my feet, calm my soul,

Lead me to my rest”

He pressed the blade into his skin and felt the hot sting of the skin breaking. Suddenly, he stopped and dejectedly cast the other dagger aside. He couldn’t do this, not now. He stood and stared at the bodies of his friends and families. He had done everything that he could to help them for years, and he couldn’t stop now.

After searching the rubble, he managed to find a broken shovel. It would have to do. He then proceeded to hold a Dalish funeral for every member of his clan. He found trees to place on top of their graves, and he recited the funeral rites until his voice was hoarse. It took more than a week, but once it was done, he felt a bit more at peace.

He sat at Linea’s grave the longest. He buried her last because knowing that she was still waiting for him carried him through the other burials when his body ached, his hands bled from dozens of blisters, and he felt like he couldn’t move anymore. On her grave he planted a cherry tree. During their courtship they had walked in a grove of them, and he picked pink petals from her hair before they shared their first kiss.

Mikael looked at his daggers again. Now would be the perfect time to end it all and join his clan, but his hand was stilled. It wasn’t his job to do, and he wanted to go to the one person who deserved that honor above anyone else.

-------

“So here I am,” Mikael said softly. He nodded to the daggers. “I have accepted my fate. For everything I did to you, and to your unborn child I’m ready to accept your judgement.”

Ariana sighed softly, grabbed the daggers, and handed them back to a bewildered Mikael. “I can’t entirely blame you for your actions even if I don’t agree with them. I’m sorry, Mikael, but I can’t kill you!”

“Well, I certainly can!” A voice roared from down the garden path.

Ariana and Mikael both turned to see a glowing blue blur rushing down on Mikael. It was Fenris and he was fit to murder. The daggers slipped from Mikael’s hands and he stood with arms spread, waiting for his end.

“No!” Ariana cried out and pushed Mikael behind her.

Just as Fenris’ gauntlets would have touched Ariana’s chest he jerked to the side and crashed into the gazebo railing. It cracked from the force of the impact, and he looked to her with a mixture of fury and hurt.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” he snarled.

“I mean I won’t let you kill him,” she said firmly.

“Why not?” both Mikael and Fenris said in unison.

Ariana looked behind her shoulders at the confused redhead and shook her head. “I don’t want vengeance, even if I’m angry at you. There’s something I could use you for so if you really want to repent then I have a job for you. Something that will wipe the slate clean between us.”

The men looked to her expectantly and with growing confidence Ariana told them of her plans.

-------

It was approaching sunset when they were done speaking. Mikael gave a formal bow and snuck out of the garden the same way he had entered. When he was gone Fenris pulled Ariana into a strong hug.

“When I saw him…” he said shakily into the top of her head. “…and he was holding those daggers… Just don’t do that again, Ariana.”

Ariana stroked his back and nuzzled his chest. “I’m safe,” she whispered. “I’m still here with you.”

He nodded and pulled back long enough to kiss her deeply. His tongue begged for entrance and she happily obliged. They exchanged kisses and gentle caresses until the sun had almost set. Fenris pulled away and he rested his forehead against hers.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

As if on cue Ariana’s stomach growled and she almost jumped in surprise. “I guess we’re hungry.” She giggled.

“Then let’s get you two some food,” Fenris said with a small smile, and motioned for her to go ahead. He was going to do a sweep of the gardens and follow her shortly.

When she entered the house she found that Danarius was animatedly talking to Selvig about something that the old man was having to write his instructions as they were spoken.

“I’ll need guards. Ten of them aside from Fenris. I’ll need two carriages. I’ll be traveling with a few other magisters so I’ll need an abundance of lyrium potions and reagents.”

As Ariana approached Danarius he leveled his gaze at her and his eyes traveled down her figure.

“That’ll be all for now,” he said with an absent wave to dismiss Selvig.

“Where have you been?” he asked slowly as he approached her.

“I fell asleep in the garden,” she answered brightly. “The sun felt good on my body so I just dozed off.”

“I see,” he responded boredly, and leafed through a small stack of letters in his hands.

“Is there a problem, dear?” Ariana asked, cocking her head.

“I’ll be making a trip soon. Nothing to concern yourself with,” he snapped as he walked past her and up the stairs. Ariana watched him disappear into his room with a resounding slam of the door and felt her heart begin to pound harder. This might just be her chance.

“Meredith is whipping up your dinner right now,” Fenris said softly as he almost materialized behind her.

“I’ll take it in the library,” Ariana said with a nod, tearing her eyes away from the closed door that had led to so many nightmares. “I have some letters of my own to write.”

Chapter Text

A stately carriage pulled up to a hovel in the city’s poorest district. The Dwarven driver sneered as he stepped down into a puddle of human waste and held a perfumed handkerchief to his nose. A door hung half off its hinges, and he had to knock carefully to avoid bringing it down entirely. A cloaked figure emerged, walked past him, and stood expectantly at the carriage. With a low growl he went to grab the handle, and as he turned it, he looked up to his fare and halted. He had never seen a more pitiful creature in all his life.

They climbed into the carriage, and just as the driver shut the door threw back the hood of her cloak. Jagged blonde hair stuck out at odd angles and various symbols were carved across once full and beautiful cheeks. Ceres’ fury filled blue eye glared at her surroundings and she pulled the thick curtains down plunging herself into darkness. She fiddled with the iron key in her pocket. A gift from her cohort Hadriana. In her other hand she held a wicked dagger she had purchased for the occasion, and she sighed wistfully. She had been planning for this day ever since that bitched sicked ‘Rius on her. Today she would finally plunge this blade through Ariana’s heart.

As Ceres left the slums she didn’t realize that she had a tail of her own. Amber eyes glittered from the darkness as a shadow dashed through alleyways and filth slick roads. It was a race to see who could get to the Danarius’ manor first.

---------

“What are you reading?”

Danarius’ voice snapped Ariana from her thoughts as she nibbled on toast. They were sharing a rare breakfast together, but both spent most of their time behind one wall of paper or another.

“Tevene baby names,” she said softly and showed him the page she was on. “They’re so different than ones in Ferelden so I thought I’d pick a few favorites out.”

“Lucius,” Danarius stated and folded a letter he had been reading and tucked it inside of his robe.

“Lucius?” Ariana asked with raised brow as she set the book across her thighs.

“Yes, so put that away. His name was never for you to decide,” He replied icily. He took one last drink of his tea and stood from the small table. “I will be at the magisterium today. Stay home and behave.”

He had frequently admonished her and demanded she “behave”. She felt like a naughty child more than a spouse, but for her purposes that was fine. So long as she did what was told on the outside he left her to her own devices. Incubating “his child” had its perks.

She bit her lower lip as another thought struck her. Danarius was out of the house frequently as of late which was very much a blessing, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a sign that something very bad was about to happen.

“Did you find any names that you liked?” Fenris’ gentle voice pierced her reverie, and she looked up to find him smiling down on her.

“A few,” she answered and gently stroked the bare skin above his gauntlets with her pinky finger. “There are so many that it’s hard to sift through. What name would you want?”

Fenris faltered and his smile faded. “I don’t have the right to say, Ariana. I never expected or wanted children. My life with Danarius made sure it wasn’t a possibility.”

Ariana went quiet as she dropped her hand. “I’m sorry if I’m forcing this on you.” She whispered.

“Not forcing,” he corrected. “I just tell myself that I will enjoy what little time I get with you and share your dream as long as I can.”

“I will get us out, Fenris,” she hissed. “I won’t leave you with that madman.”

He said nothing and simply squeezed her shoulder. She had been saying for weeks now that she had plans to save them, but he knew in the end that they were only words. The dream would be wonderful while it lasted but was ultimately something he had to wake from. As all slaves do.

“I know you will try,” he replied sadly and with one last caress he left to perform his morning rounds.

Ariana clenched her teeth and opened the baby name book again. She wiped tears from her cheeks and felt her resolve double. She wouldn’t fail.

----------

Ceres’ carriage sat just down the road from the Danarius manor. She had been waiting all morning for Danarius to leave, and just as she was about to give up his carriage sidled up to the door and he appeared. She felt a flushing heat in her core at the sight of his straight back and manicured beard. What had happened between them had simply been a misunderstanding. She hadn’t been able to properly explain herself before he and his friends descended on her like wolves on a lamb. She forgave him though. Once Ariana was gone and he saw the love and devotion she had for him he would welcome her with open arms as the new lady of the estate.

She spun the dagger in her hands as she watched him enter his own carriage. She did not notice as the blade pierced her skin and made a deep gouge until the blood was dripping onto her knee. She absently wiped it away smearing more in the process. Her heart sped up as the carriage pulled away and once it was finally out of sight she climbed out and went around back to the garden to the iron gate that was the mate to her key. Her nerves gave way to a creeping feeling of glee. At long last she would end the insufferable Ariana and all her meddling. She wouldn’t fail.

As she stepped into the garden she caught a flash of white and black and she froze in her tracks. She had been so fixated on seeing ‘Rius that she completely missed that he had no guard with him. Fenris paused and her hand wildly grasped the gate to stop it’s screeching. She hunkered down behind a huge rose bush until he seemed to dismiss the sound as nothing and entered the house. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped lightly onto the dirt path. She was already committed to this course of action. It was too important to turn back now. She just had to be extra careful to not alert Ariana’s guard dog.

----------

After his rounds Fenris had found Ariana in her room. She was attempting some of the simpler hair styles that Orana was so adept at, but found she made tangled messes rather than braids. He shut the door quietly, and his face was nothing short of tortured.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he fell to his knees and nuzzled her swollen belly. “I shouldn’t have spoken that way.”

“It’s alright, Fenris,” she soothed and gently stroked his cheek. “You spoke your mind and that’s all I ever want from you.”

He turned his head and placed featherlight kisses on her palm causing a shiver of arousal that hardened her nipples and sent a bolt to her nether regions. She whimpered softly and that seemed to spur him onward. He captured her wrist in his hand and trailed kisses up her arm until he was standing before her. His hand slipped down to caress the curve of her waist and he nipped her tender throat.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” he growled and tugged on her skirt for emphasis. “I wish to see my lover’s body.”

Her heart throbbed at the acknowledgement, and she quickly complied so that she was wholly naked. The fireplace had long gone cold, and gooseflesh rose on her arms. Fenris chuckled and swept her off her feet and climbed onto the bed with her, shedding his own armor as he went.

As soon as she were splayed on the bed before him he descended on her most intimate parts. Ariana moaned and raked her hands through his white hair as he eagerly feasted on her as though he were a man starved and she was a four-course dinner.

“Fenris,” she breathed as his tongue lathed attention on her tender pearl. He purred at the sound of his name and send a small vibration through her core that caused her body to jerk. His hands came up and held her hips down.

“Don’t move,” he rasped. “I need this.”

--------

Ceres left the gate ajar so that she could make a quick exit if need be. When she entered the house, she listened intently for any other movement. She checked the library first, then the dining room, then the sitting room. As the minutes ticked on, she began to grow irritated. Where was that whore? When she reached the top steps, she didn’t even bother looking at Danarius’ door. There was no way the Ferelden bitch was in there. As she crept down the hallway, she heard muffled sounds coming from Ariana’s room. She held her breath and slowly opened the door and almost shrieked with glee at what she saw.

---------

The temperature outside cold but Ariana and Fenris were dripping sweat as their naked bodies joined on the bed. Fenris sat upright with Ariana in his lap, with every roll of his hips he drove his cock deeper and she gasped each time.

“Fenris,” she moaned as she kissed him.

He groaned delightedly, trailed his hands up to wind them in her hair, and gently scratched back down. The sensation of her body shivering on his cock was pure torture, but it was one he adored.

Suddenly he shifted their bodies so that Ariana was on her back and he was able to fully slide inside of her. She arched her back and he kissed her deeply to swallow her loud moans. Her ankles hooked behind his back and she urged him to speed up with her heels. He eagerly obliged and pushed himself up so he could see her writhing in ecstasy beneath him. The aphrodisiac high of seeing her pleasure was unmatched and he arched his back as he drew closer to his own release. Ariana murmured praises and stroked him everywhere her hands could touch. She hadn’t yet orgasmed, and she seemed driven that he should have his own first. Using every ounce of self-control he shuddered in pleasure as he climaxed and gasped as his cock twitched in time with his heartbeat. As he bent down to give her another deep kiss, he happened to look up to the door. His heart clenched when he saw that it was ajar and a single blue eye peered in at them. Then the eye was gone, and he heard a familiar giggling racing down the hallway.

“Ceres!” he snarled and leapt off the bed. He didn’t even bother to dress as he ran full speed to catch the demon woman.

“Fenris?!” Ariana called after him frantically.

Ceres was already in the foyer when Fenris reached the stairwell. He grabbed the banister with one hand and launched himself forward but he was still too slow. She slammed the front door behind her and when he pried it open he found a busy street and nothing more.

He roared a string of curse words and punched a marble column. His hand hurt, but it was the least of his worries. Just as he was dashing upstairs Ariana appeared wearing a peacock green robe.

“Was it really Ceres?” she asked with hands folded against her chest.

All he could do was nod, and Ariana leaned against the wall in shock. “What do we do?” she whispered.

“We pack,” Fenris answered, grasping her hand, and pulling her against his chest.

---------

Ceres sat in the dark carriage and laughed maniacally. She hadn’t killed Ariana, but she had a death sentence for that woman none the less. Watching Ariana debase herself with a slave was titillating on its own, but the fact that it was Fenris was even more delicious. Maybe she would get lucky, and Danarius would execute them both, and then he would return to her with arms wide and take her by his side.

She was so busy enjoying her victory that she didn’t notice that she was not alone. After a few moments, she pulled aside the curtain just a bit to see the bustling market outside. She imagined which stores she would buy her wedding gown and jewels. Only the best for Danarius’ loving wife. When she sat back the curtain flapped and she saw a boot on the floor across from her foot. Brown leather. She pressed herself against the carriage seat and pulled the dagger from her cloak.

“Who are you?!” she demanded. The carriage wheels hit a bumpy patch and the curtains parted briefly once more and she saw a glimmer of red hair, pale skin, and a green tattoo. She never heard the answer, but deep down she already knew.

Later when the carriage pulled up to Hadriana’s estate the apprentice magister stood outside waiting for news of Ceres’ mission. As the minutes ticked by her irritation surged from the delay. Then with a snarl she pushed past the driver and ripped open the door herself. The stench of blood assaulted her nose, and she staggered back. The interior of the carriage was coated in it from ceiling to floorboards. Ceres lay crumpled on the floor with her ribcage open. Her heart was missing and single lock of silver hair had been placed across the gaping hole. The carriage driver peered over Hadriana’s shoulder and gagged at the sight.

“W-what do you want me to do, mistress Hadriana?” He asked after wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.

“Take the carriage away and burn it,” she answered with a soft sigh. “I tired of her petty games anyway.”

---------

“And you’re sure she’s dead?” Ariana asked anxiously.

“I cut out her heart myself,” Mikael answered, his tone both proud and somber.

“Lucky, bastard,” Fenris muttered, and Ariana gently smacked his shoulder.

“If anyone among us deserves that honor it’s him, Fenris,” Ariana pointed out.

Fenris sighed and gently kissed Ariana’s temple. Suddenly feeling like a third wheel Mikael looked to the railing of the gazebo, and let his eyes trace the dormant vines that snaked around the banister.

When he had returned from eliminating Ceres he stood under Ariana’s window and threw small stones to get her attention. She had come down to see him as she clutched a dress to her chest while frothing like a madwoman babbling about needing to get away today. After several minutes of reassurances Mikael managed to talk both Ariana and Fenris down.

“So now what?” Mikael asked.

“Now we wait,” Ariana replied simply.

Both men looked to her curiously. Even though she shared much of her plans with them there were many details left unaccounted for that she stated would be revealed in time.

“Where do you want me?” Mikael inquired when he realized there would be no further explanation.

“Wait at the house where you found Ceres,” she answered. “I’ll send for you when things are ready.”

Mikael nodded and bowed before Ariana’s hand shot out and gently touched his shoulder.

“Don’t bow,” she said gently. “You’re a free man again and you need not bow to anyone, least of all me.”

He chuckled took her hand in his before placing a chivalrous kiss on her knuckles. “I will strive to break that nasty habit then.”

Fenris growled and Ariana looked to see that his eyes were angrily roving over Mikael. She caught his eyes and gave him a reassuring smile and he immediately went at ease. Mikael made his exit through the still open gate and as soon as he disappeared Fenris groused, “I don’t like him.”

“You never did,” Ariana teased and brushed the hair from his eyes.

“True.” He snickered.

“Things are going to go quickly now,” Ariana said softly. “Do you think you’ll be ok?”

Fenris snorted and gave her an almost cocky smile, “Knowing that you’re waiting for me? I’ll be more than ok.”

----------

Two days later Danarius made the announcement that he’d be leaving for Seheron the following day. Selvig had brought him over a dozen missives in that time each one proclaiming his property was in jeopardy and needed its owner at once.

The morning dawned and the house was already awake before sunlight streamed in through the windows. Ariana and Fenris were down in the slave’s hall saying their goodbyes.

“You promise you’ll get plenty to eat, right? Babies need lots of good food to grow,” Meredith asked, and doted like a mother would. Ariana found her own tears flowing as the older woman gave her a kiss on the head.

Adrian gave her a hug followed by a package of lemon frosted cookies before stepping back to stand with Meredith. As Meredith sniffled, he raised his arm and pulled her close. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she did not move away.

Over the next twenty minutes every slave in the house came forward and embraced Ariana. They gave their thanks, some even gave small gifts, before they all dispersed to perform their duties. Finally, it was Giselle, Orana, Nero and Selvig.

“I guess there’s no use staying if you’re gone,” Nero said with a confident swagger as he approached her.

“No, but you’ve done me and my child a great favor,” she answered with a genuine smile.

“Well it was fun while it lasted,” he shrugged. “Thanks to you I can buy my sister and we can get out of this city like we’ve talked about for years.”

Ariana blinked in surprise. “I thought you were happy here.”

“I was happy with my work,” Nero informed as he shook his finger. “I was not happy being a slave, and knowing my sister was to become a prostitute as well when she turned ten made me that much more eager to get us free.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Ariana said softly, her words getting caught in her throat.

Nero gave her a final lascivious smile before he went to his room to fetch his belongings.

Orana and Giselle looked to each other and held hands when Giselle addressed Ariana, “We’re going to Starkhaven together miss.”

Ariana looked between the two and smiled broadly. “I’m glad neither of you will be alone. You’re both wonderful women and I’m honored to have met you.”

Orana squeaked and practically tacked Ariana in a large hug. “I’m going to miss you, mistress!”

“Orana…” she gently chided and cupped the elven woman’s cheek in her hand. “Those aren’t our roles anymore.”

“I will miss you, A-Ariana,” Orana stammered.

Ariana’s beamed and pulled her former maid, confidant, and friend into her arms.

“I will you all of the luck in Thedas,” she murmured.

The two women broke apart and Orana and Giselle exited the kitchen.

Then it was Selvig.

“Have the arrangements all been made?” Ariana asked as she wiped away her tears.

“Every last one, Ariana,” he replied humbly. “Down to the last detail.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “At first, I didn’t know about you, but I’m glad to see my early fears were misplaced. You’re a good man Selvig.”

He blinked several times at the compliment. It was the first he had ever received from someone who was not a slave. It felt nice. He chose to not bow as he knew that she was all the happier for it. Instead, he embraced her before going upstairs to check on Danarius.

Finally, she turned to Fenris. He wore a new set of armor and gauntlets specially requisitioned for this trip. His heart thundered in his chest. They were parting and he wouldn’t be there to protect her when she was her most vulnerable. A million bad scenarios flitted through his mind, and it felt like they would break him, but this was how it needed to be.

“Promise me you won’t die. I can’t bear the thought of living without you,” he said as he cupped her head, the gauntlet gently scratching her scalp.

“I don’t make that promise unless you do,” she responded, her eyes alight with determination.

“Nothing is going to keep me from you,” he growled, and pulled her into a fierce kiss that took her breath away.

When they pulled apart, they rested their foreheads together and Fenris stroked her belly, their child.

“I will find you,” he promised.

“I will wait for you,” she answered.

Suddenly, Fenris leapt back and stared at her in a panic.

“Fenehidis what was that?” he demanded, and she broke down into peals of laughter.

“That’s our baby!” she said once she could finally breathe again. He stared at her dumbstruck and she stepped towards him and pulled his hand forward. His palm was bare and she rested it firmly where he had felt the kicks before. They were light, but unmistakable and Fenris looked to her in awe. For the next few minutes Fenris and Ariana shared the joy of feeling their child move together, but all too soon it was over. They walked hand in hand through the slave hall one last time. At the stairs that led to her room Fenris left her, and he went to the ones that led to the foyer. They then took their separate places in the final act of the play they needed to perform together.

---------

Danarius was gone. He had barely grunted in Ariana’s direction before ordering Fenris to pick up a piece of luggage and follow him. Fenris looked once last time to Ariana, and she saw a desperation there that she wished she could soothe. She just hoped the red handkerchief she gave him, that was currently tucked inside of his gauntlet, would help. Then the doors closed and as soon as the carriage pulled away the real work began.

Three hours later Mikael arrived in a carriage with the Pavus crest on the doors. He opened the door for Ariana and grabbed her bags with a broad smile. However, when he attempted to take his place on the poles Ariana frowned and demanded that they share the carriage together.

The dock loomed large. According to her schedule Danarius had already set sail an hour ago so he should be nowhere near their ship. Despite that fact her eyes darted around as she walked to “The Silver Maiden” with Mikael trailing behind her with their luggage. She held her head up high as she approached the steward at the end of the gangway that led to the ship that would take her to freedom.

“Lady Aquinea Thalassia?” he asked with a raised brow. “And ‘Augustus’?”

Ariana smiled demurely. “My dear friend has booked me a cruise with my lover,” she purred and ran her hand over Mikael’s bare arm. You will find the accompanying letter supports my statement.”

He absently went over the letter before his eyes practically popped from his head and he read it three more times.

“Right this way, Lady Aquinea!” he choked as he practically ran up the plank to get to the deck. “I will take you to your cabin right away.”

Their room was one of the best on the ship. The door had carvings of topless mermaids, and the inside was a scene from a palace. The massive bed sat in the center of the room. It had black silk sheets, thick white comforters and fluffy pillows. A bottle of champagne sat on a small table with two glasses and a bouquet of blood red roses. Ariana and Mikael both froze as they realized this was a bridal suite and as such there was only one bed.

“I hope this is to your liking, my lady,” the steward said with an obsequious bow.

“It is wonderful, thank you,” she said with a tight grin.

When he left they both stood and appraised the room. There was no couch or chair.

“I guess it’s the floor for me,” Mikael chuckled.

“Sorry,” Ariana muttered, her cheeks bright red.

“It’s fine,” he interjected. “I would rather not have Fenris hunt me for the rest of my life.”

Ariana laughed, the sound was soft but after a few moments it abruptly turned to sobs. She cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle her cries, but it was no use. She suddenly felt so alone. She wanted Fenris. With a soft sigh Mikael approached her and slowly, gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“I know I’m not Fenris, but I will keep you safe,” he murmured. “You’ll see him soon enough.”

She nodded fiercely and after several minutes was able to calm herself down. She pulled a handkerchief from the small purse that she carried and dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Mikael. But now I want to do something other than stand here feeling sorry for myself.”

“Well I’m starving, any idea where lunch is?” Mikael asked as he looked around as though it would magically appear.

“I believe they have some food on deck now so let’s go see,” she answered with a small smile, and he took her arm and guided her to the upper deck.

Slaves wearing almost nothing carried trays with delectable goodies. After they ate their fill the ship began to set sail. Ariana stared hard at the coast of Tevinter as it grew smaller. She felt like she needed to keep an eye on it just in case the ship betrayed her and turned around. She needed to see it disappear from her life forever.

“You’re quiet,” Mikael said as he came to stand at the railing next to her.

“I just hope everything goes well,” she retorted.

“Orana get away ok?” he asked. “She always seemed like a nice girl.”

“Orana got away,” she replied with a nod. “Orana, Giselle, Adrian, Nero, Meredith, Selvig… everyone is getting away.”

He froze as he started at the horizon which was turning a deep orange.

“Everyone?” he inquired when his tongue began to work.

“Yes, I bought every single last slave from the house and set them free,” she replied with growing resolve. “Everyone has a ticket and some money to set forth and have the life that they want.”

Mikael chuckled and that grew to full booming laughter until he was holding his sides and gasping from the tears that streamed down his face.

“What’s so funny?” Ariana asked indignantly.

“You,” he answered with a smug smile. “You turn the world upside down and have the audacity to ask, ‘What’s so funny?’”

She clamped her mouth shut and turned away as she pouted.

“How did you do it?” he finally asked. “That was no small feat.”

“The money I won in the card games,” she answered. “I sold the jewelry, and with all of the gold I was able to buy everyone their freedom and scatter them to the four winds where Danarius can’t touch them.”

“You can do all that with just the money from one card game?” Mikael looked distressed and flabbergasted.

“In Tevinter lives are cheap and so are morals,” Ariana said bitterly.

Silence fell between the two as the orange gave way to pink and then indigo. She shivered from the cold and Mikael offered his hand to escort her into the cabin. She was quickly losing the war on sleep and he tucked her in before taking a blanket and making his bed on the floor in front of the door. As he fell asleep he wondered which of the Elvhen gods had set him on the path he found himself this time.

------

Seheron, One week later

Sweat ran down Fenris’ neck from the sweltering heat of the jungle. It was still an hour before they reached Danarius’ property which was no more than a glorified slave trading port. He had received it forcibly from Ceres at their last encounter.

Fenris’ eyes slipped once more to the palanquin that Danarius and two other magisters rode in. It was supported by six burly slaves who were panting under the weight. The air was thick with tension as the magisters laughed and discussed their plans for once they get to the estate.

Another ten minutes passed. Soon they would start running into patrols and their plan would be over before it started. Two guards slipped forward in the procession until they flanked the palanquin doors. They tightened their grip on their polearms and shared a look with the bearers who nodded in understanding. Erimond’s guard was three feet in front of Fenris and seemed to be watching the tree line. The last piece of Ariana’s puzzle was falling into place.

Selvig diverted Danarius’ unprotected messages to her, and she would write out instructions to be acted on. The guards on this endeavor were all selected for the specific task of staging an uprising to get Fenris away and hopefully kill Danarius in the process.

Everything was coming down to this. Years of pain and torment under the thumb of this despicable bastard. Fenris took several deep breaths to center himself. Once it was all over he could see Ariana. He would stowaway on a ship and make it to Kirkwall in time for the birth of his child. Everything was going to be fine.

His brands flashed as he leapt forward to attack Erimond’s guard; the signal to begin the assault.

“Fog war-!” the guard sputtered, his throat filled with blood, as Fenris liberated him from his heart.

The bearers dropped the palanquin and the mercenary guards rammed their polearms through the windows and wrenched them open. Amladaris screeched as the weapon raked across his corpulent belly, not a grievous wound though. Fenris turned just in time to dodge Amladaris’ guard who broke off into a run down the path that led back to civilization. An arrow through his skull stopped his escape. Another arrow sunk into the mercenary to his left, and another narrowly missed Fenris’ side. He looked up and saw a hail of arrows coming down from the jungle canopy and he dove into the palanquin as they thunked onto the roof like so much rain.

“Fenris! What in the Fade are you doing?!” Danarius roared. He had no time to answer when the door was ripped off it’s hinges and he saw three faces staring back at him. One was elven and the other two were qunari. There was only a split second to make a decision, and Fenris realized there was only one choice to make. He glared up and met Danarius’ eyes. If he was going to die here it wouldn’t be in vain.

“You stupid fool, attack!” Danarius bellowed as though he were commanding a dog and pointed to the warriors outside who were watching the events unfold with interest.

Fenris twisted his body and struck wildly at Danarius, his brands glowed as white as the sun, but suddenly they changed. His hand phased back to solid, and his gauntlet tore across Danarius chest, but it was not a killing blow. Fenris screamed as his brands flared red, and he collapsed onto the floor. Amladaris sneered as tendrils of potent red magic snaked from his fingers and into Fenris’ body. His brands were a conduit of agony and there was no escape.

“I made you slave!” Danarius snarled, he motioned with his hand towards the fog warriors and as though struck by an invisible fist they flew back several feet before hitting the ground.

No longer in immediate peril Danarius stood over Fenris and poured his own magic inside of him. This pain was more refined like a surgical blade rather than a hammer. His muscles clenched and something snapped in his right leg. Danarius’ foot came down on his shoulder and he felt another crack.

“This looks fun,” Erimond purred, and a third magic scratched against his brain. This one was inelegant like a dull knife, but it sawed down each line and curl of his brands, nonetheless. The sounds of battle outside grew to a fevered pitch as the estate guards joined and began to push the fog warriors back.

“I should just kill you here,” Danarius hissed. “But I won’t. No. I’ll break you and break you again until you remember nothing but the pain I give you. Because you’re mine Fenris, and you will never step out of line again.”

Fenris grit his teeth and balled up his fists. His mind was torn with the screaming thought that he wanted to beg for the pain to stop, and the counter thought that he would die before he gave Danarius the satisfaction of hearing him plead for his life again.

Before Danarius could say another word the palanquin rocked to the side as it was struck. All three magisters halted their onslaught and then a massive qunari appeared at the doorway wielding a huge hammer. The qunari wound up again and slammed down on the roof which buckled but did not fully break.

“We’re going to die!” Amladaris squealed and pressed himself into the velvet seat behind him.

Fenris flickered in and out of consciousness. He watched with hazy eyes as Erimond and Amladaris managed to open the other door and raced out. Danarius paused though and looked between freedom and Fenris. He did not want to leave him behind.

“Come on!”

Hands grabbed Danarius by the robes and hauled him outside. Fenris vaguely registered a shadow over him as he finally fainted.

-----------

When he awoke it was dark outside, and the crescent moon was high. There was barely enough light to see anything even as his eyes made out his surroundings. It was a tiny shack barely big enough for four bedrolls to fit in together. The bedroll beneath him was thick and smelled of lilies. Suddenly the door banged open and he bit back a cry of pain as he sat up. His leg and arm were bandaged in splints.

“You shouldn’t do that,” a voice spoke, but the language wasn’t human. It wasn’t elvish though either, and to Fenris’ shock he could somehow understand it.

“Why not?” Fenris asked, his tone more curious than defiant. This was clearly not Danarius.

The person stepped into the light and it gave Fenris pause. It was a qunari male with both horns ground to nubs and capped with silver.

“You are injured,” the qunari said in the common tongue.

“I need a healer. I need to leave and find Ariana,” Fenris ground out as he attempted to stand. The shattering pain in his leg brought him back to the ground with a roar of agony. It was broken. He wasn’t unfamiliar with broken bones especially with Danarius as a master, but it was usually fingers, wrists, feet or ribs. Never big bones. With how immobilized his shoulder was he got the feeling his collar bone had been snapped as well.

“I tried to warn you,” the qunari said with a dogged sigh.

“So you did, and I apologize,” Fenris gasped. “I just need to leave straight away.”

The man frowned and shook his head, “We can’t let you leave.”

“What?!” Fenris barked, he sat up as far as his leg and shoulder would allow and he bared his teeth and this stranger who held him hostage.

“Not only will you not be able to leave for several weeks due to your injuries. You know where we are and could easily return with soldiers later.”

“I promise I wouldn’t do that,” Fenris pleaded. “My lover is pregnant. I need to get to her. She’s the one who tried to free me.”

The man hummed in contemplation, “We thought it strange that the guards began to attack the carriage before we arrived, and that you killed the man in front of you. Why did you do that?”

“My master is-,” Fenris began.

“Was.” The qunari interrupted forcefully. “If you have truly escaped then he was your master. You’re a free man now.”

Fenris went silent at the truth of his words. His eyes filled with tears at that awe inspiring thought. Now perhaps his life could finally begin.

“My master was a Tevinter magister. I was his personal slave for years. He…tormented me. Until I fell in love with someone, and she worked to free me, free all of us.”

“Who was this woman?” the man asked with a curious tilt of the head.

“My master’s wife,” Fenris replied finally.

A chuckle rumbled from the qunari. “Your pregnant lover is this wife, correct?”

“Yes,” Fenris replied forcefully. “And I will do anything to get to her.”

“I will bring your pleas to the elders in the morning,” the qunari said solemnly. “I’m not wholly unfeeling to your plight but I cannot guarantee miracles.”

“I will pray for a miracle then,” Fenris responded, and sank back onto his bedroll, the weight of his exhaustion hitting him full force. Before the qunari had left the cell he had already fallen back into a dreamless sleep.

---------------

Danarius stormed into his house practically spitting fire. His carriage was not waiting for him at the docks and the page he sent to his manor returned stating there was no reply. He had to take a public buggy and now he was fit to murder.

When he reached the doors he paused, it was slightly ajar. Snarling, he slammed the doors open fully and strode inside challenging any would be trespassers. What he saw shocked him to his core. His manor had been sacked. Paintings and furniture too large to carry were destroyed. He stepped lightly over the shattered remains of the oak table that had sat in his entry way for decades. A painting of him and Ariana which hung above the stairs was defaced. Or at least half of it was. His side was shredded and covered in vile looking substances whereas Ariana’s half was as pristine as the day it was finished.

“Ariana! Selvig!” He bellowed, but there was no reply. He ascended the stairs and went to her room. It was empty save for the bed which had been stripped of its coverings. He rounded to his room which fortunately, he had sealed prior to leaving. It was still intact and judging by the blood stain on the floor in front of the door some idiot had tried to overcome his magical barrier. He hoped their death had been painful.

He tore through the house looking for his wife or butler but as he went downstairs to the slave’s quarters a chilling realization hit him. Every room was empty, every cupboard was bare. He stood in the kitchen and stared at the layer of dust that had settled on the table. He was alone.

Instantly his hand shot out and he set the table ablaze with a well-placed flame spell. A smoldering splinter imbedded itself in his arm. Absently he pulled wood the size of his pinky out and dropped it to the ground. Everyone being gone was a nuisance, but his pregnant wife’s disappearance was a critical issue. He had to find her as soon as possible before she gave birth, and his son was out of his reach forever.

An hour later Erimond and Amladaris were in his library. Amladaris held a wicked looking dagger uneasily and frowned at his colleague.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked slowly.

“I need to know where my son is,” Danarius hissed. “I can’t let that bitch take him from me.”

“How do you know she wasn’t kidnapped?” Erimond scoffed.

“I just know it,” Danarius seethed. “There was no note or sign she struggled. No, I have a feeling she walked out of here of her own accord with anything and everything she could carry. I should have locked her in her room when I left.”

“Very well,” Amladaris said with a solemn glance.

They began to chant an old ritual of searching. Danarius stood on a glyph made of salt and the air around crackled with magical potential. He held a compass made of dragon stone with a golden dial that lazily spun in circles.

“Blood of his blood, blood of his son. Find his child and show us the way!” Amladaris cried out before slashing the blade on Danarius’ forearm. Danarius didn’t flinch as thick drops of blood welled up and dripped onto the glyph below. The salt stained pink and suddenly began to glow with an unearthly light.

All three of them watched eagerly as the compass picked up speed and began to whirl so fast that Danarius struggled to hold it. With a loud crack it suddenly shattered in his hands and the glyph exploded, sending Danarius flying into the wall.

“What happened?!” he demanded when he came back to his feet.

Amladaris stared at him in horror, but Erimond dared to laugh. “It seems that child, is not your child after all.” 

Danarius glared down at his burned hands and felt a chilling sense of calm.

“Apparently I have an entirely new reason to kill that woman then,” he said softly. Straightening his back, he attempted to smooth down the charred remains of the front of his robe. “Come, let’s see if we can track that thieving whore down.”

Chapter Text

Fenris ----

One night after escape…

Fenris stood with his body braced against a qunari that was a full head and half taller than him. She wasn’t the same one from last night and cracked grey horns twisted up from her forehead. When she had arrived at his cabin in the morning she had growled that he was to get up and follow her. Gritting his teeth he attempted to comply but instead pitched forward with a pained shout as his leg gave out again. She caught him and tsked loudly that this was not how she wanted to start her day.

So now they were before the council. The qunari from last night, two humans and an elf. Each one wore a grim expression and studied Fenris with mild curiosity.

“I’m afraid we cannot entertain your request,” one of the humans announced. He was shaven bald and the skin around his eyes crinkled as he spoke.

“Why not?” Fenris spat. “I have done nothing wrong, and I swear I would never reveal your location to anyone!”

“He is not our enemy,” the qunari councilor interjected. “He was a slave as many of us were before we became fog warriors. He was in the process of escaping his master when we attacked.”

The rest of the council muttered amongst themselves, sharing looks of understanding and resignation.

“We already extended you a courtesy and brought you here to tend to your injuries due to the…unusual circumstances in which we found you,” the human said. “I’m afraid that is where our generosity must end. If you wish to join our cause you’re welcome though.”

“Please,” Fenris pleaded. “I have a lover pregnant with my child. She escaped just as I did and I need to go to her. I can’t abandon her after she worked so hard to free me.”

The two female council members shot angry glances at their male counterparts with the human one growling. “That should be taken into consideration.”

“He could be lying!” the youngest member snapped. “He would say anything to leave and an unborn child is just the thing to manipulate us.”

An uneasy air filled the room and Fenris hung his head. “I swear on my life that I am telling the truth. She’s due in Solis and I must be there.”

“That’s less than three months away,” the elven women said. “His injuries might heal before then.”

Everyone looked to the leader of the council. An elderly human with a beard down to his navel and bushy eyebrows that seemed to weigh his brow down.

“He may leave.”

Fenris felt as though he might collapse from relief as he gasped. “Thank you.”

The councilman waved his hand to dismiss Fenris who felt lighter than air as he followed his guard with an extra spring in his lopsided step.

“You’re very lucky,” the qunari woman said with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t waste our generosity.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fenris stated. “I will do anything to be with Ariana.”

---------

Ariana----

Two weeks after escape…

When the ship arrived at Kirkwall’s dock Ariana was going stir crazy. After being able to do nothing except sit and think for weeks she whipped herself into a lather several times a day. Finally, Mikael had acquired a deck of cards and he had her teach him how to win at Wicked Grace the way she did. He was an apt student and most nights he would return to their room with a bag of gold. The last night on the ship Ariana just kept mulling it all over. She didn’t know how long it would take Danarius to get to his property in Seheron. Was attack a success? Was Fenris freed already? When could she have him by her side once and for all?

The sun was high when the ship finally nudged into its space in the harbor.

“It’ll be nice to stand on ground that doesn’t try to come up at me,” Mikael groaned and rubbed his cheeks to wake himself up. Ariana had been up all-night pacing and sighing which kept him us as well.

“I agree,” she said. “You’ll stay with me a little longer, right?”

Her blue eyes looked at him with concern that bordered on the frantic as she bit her lower lip. Not for the first time he felt regret for his attempts on her life. He owed her at least this much.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me,” he promised and took her small hands into his. “I’ll even stay by your side until Fenris takes my place.”

Tears brimmed and she nodded as the first few began to spill. “T-thank you, Mikael.”

“We have completed docking the ship. Please form orderly lines to disembark.” A bored voice droned from above deck.

“That’s us,” Mikael said and hoisted her luggage over his shoulder. “Now tell me where I can put these down!

“There’s a tavern my uncle brought me to once when he went to a card game. I think he was trying to sell me to pay some of his debts,” Ariana said and set forth. Mikael hesitated for a moment, wondering if she was joking.

“What’s this place called?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“The Hanged Man.”

Ariana had to pay a sizable amount to gain entrance to the city for her and Mikael, but if it bothered her, she never showed it. They passed through the gallows, and she refused to look at the grand structures lest she start worrying about Fenris all over again. Their baby gave her a few solid kicks and she smiled, placing her hand over the spot.

“Almost there, sweetie,” she cooed.

“Almost where?” Mikael asked, clearly confused.

“I was talking to the baby,” Ariana laughed. “But we’re almost to the tavern. Afterwards I have a few important errands before we rest for the day.”

“I can keep up with you can,” Mikael declared.

When they reached the tavern Ariana briefly paused. The hanged effigy out front was disturbing, but even more so was the overwhelming stench that wafted through the closed door.

“Umm is this really the best idea?” Mikael inquired. I’m sure we could get nicer accommodations than this.”

“Danarius would expect me to be in cottage in High Town or perhaps even the guest of some relocated Ferelden noble. He would never think to find me here,” she said boldly although the words rang somewhat hollow.

“Alright,” Mikael groaned as she pushed the door open.

When she entered a few people went quiet nearest her, but for the most part she was ignored. Just as she wanted.

“Can I help you miss?” the bartender asked, he leaned to look over her shoulder he raised his eyebrow at Mikael. “A room perhaps?”

“A room would be wonderful. Two beds. Three days should do it,” she replied with a sweet smile. A woman with mocha colored skin and a blue bandana turned to watch her intently.

“Three days? Two beds?” the bartender parroted. “We have the occasional long term guest, but the only rooms I have left are single beds and by the hours.”

Ariana sighed and reached into her hair. She unfastened a barrette that had a diamond the size of her thumbnail surrounded by pinhead sized aquamarines. Laying it on the counter she looked the man in the eyes and said, “I’m sure this will help you find what I need.”

His mouth opened and shut like a carp, and he scooped the jewelry into his hand while frantically nodding his head. “Yes, my lady, yes. I’ll have it within the hour.”

“Thank you,” Ariana said with a nod. As she turned to leave the other woman came around the corner of the bar and grinned at her salaciously.

“Can I buy you and your man a drink? I’m not used to seeing a Dalish within the city,” she purred.

Ariana subtly adjusted her cloak to try and hide her belly and she pointedly looked at Mikael.

“I don’t want a drink,” he insisted with a shake of his head. “I just want to finish things up and get some rest.”

“Sorry,” Ariana said to the woman. “You’ll have to ask him another time.”

“What about you, little flower?” the woman asked. She drew closer, and reached up to stroke Ariana’s golden hair where the barrette had just been. “I’m a woman of varied tastes, and you look good enough to-.”

She pressed too close. Ariana’s eyes widened and she leapt back before whirling on her heel and dashing out. Mikael hurried after and didn’t look back to see the woman standing with her hand pressed against her belly and a panicked look on her face.

“Everything ok?” Mikael asked when they got out of earshot of the tavern.

Ariana was huffing, and trying to catch her breath, “She felt the baby. I just know it. We can’t stay there.”

“Hey, hey,” he said and darted in front of her, and held her gently by the shoulders. “We don’t need to panic yet. You don’t know for certain if she knows. You don’t know if she knows anybody that it would matter to tell. She’s a woman in a seedy tavern, and she’s most likely not part of the Antivan Crows. Just…try and relax. It’s better for the baby if you don’t panic.”

Ariana nodded and felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she couldn’t let them fall. She needed to keep it together for her baby and for Fenris.

“Ok,” she murmured. “Let’s go to High Town then.”

--------

Fenris ----

Two weeks after escape…

“I’m not an old man,” Fenris said. “I can move on my own.”

“Last time you said that you ended up with a face full of your own pillow,” the qunari woman named Asaara snickered.

“If you’ve come to poke fun at me, I’m not in the mood,” he groused.

“Clearly, but someone who stays in a cramped shack for days on end with nothing to do isn’t much fun to begin with,” she said.

He looked up to see her holding a solid ‘T’ shaped piece of wood in one hand.

“What’s that?” he asked, cocking a brow.

“A taste of freedom,” she retorted. “Unless you’d rather count the slats in the ceiling again.”

Fenris grunted and used his good arm on the wall to slowly draw himself to stand on one leg. He wobbled slightly but stayed upright this time.

Asaara stepped forward and handed him the crutch, it was the perfect height to fit under his shoulder snugly. Now with a sense of mobility Fenris brushed pashed her, pausing only to utter. “Fifty-three.”

When he wrenched the door open, he took a deep bracing breath of fresh air. It was early morning, and the air was misty, with butter yellow ribbons of sunlight cutting through the haze. A faint breeze brought the scent of a sweet and familiar fruit.

“What’s that smell?” he asked absently as he attempted to place it. It wasn’t something he’d ever seen in Danarius’ house.

“Dola is cooking some “Acka Acka”,” Asaara replied, coming to stand beside him. “The fruit’s just now ripening, and it has the most wonderful smell.”

“I remember it,” Fenris whispered, a bad twinge at the thought. Something that betrayed the tantalizing flavor.

“Oh? It’s native only to Seheron. I guess there’s a chance that someone might export it but it’s a finicky fruit and if you eat it too early, you’ll get a bad belly.” Asaara said.

A memory from his past slammed into him, the colors and sounds screaming at him from the recesses of his mind. He sucked in a deep breath and his body went rigid.

A young boy, 5 or 6, was crying and tugging on the long skirt of his mother. His stomach hurt and his mouth stung from the light pink fruit he was still clutching in his right hand. She was washing a pot and turned to sigh at her little one. “Oh Leto, what am I going to do with you?”

“Leto,” Fenris mumbled when the jungle came back into view, and he saw dew drip from the eaves of a neighboring house.

“Leto? Who is that?” Asaara asked, blinking her silver eyes in confusion.

“No one,” Fenris shook his head almost violently. “Lead the way. I’m sure you had a plan in mind when you brought me the crutch.”

“That I did,” Asaara grinned. “Follow me.”

Fenris hobbled after her. He wore a simple linen shirt and pants that went down to mid-calf. It was chilly in the morning air, but it wasn’t intolerable, and by the heat of the afternoon he knew he’d sweat right through it. His armor and weapons had been stripped of him, but the one thing they did allow him was the red handkerchief Ariana had given him. He had it tied around his wrist and occasionally, when his anxiety got the best of him, he’d bury his nose in the soft folds and imagine he was nuzzling her. Asaara once caught him, but she never teased or mocked him.

They walked for about ten minutes, in which time Fenris’ collar bone hurt the most, as it was constantly jostled by the crutch. But Fenris wouldn’t show weakness and only occasionally grunted in discomfort. As they drew nearer to her destination Fenris caught the scent of lilies and something so herbal it was almost medicinal. An herbalist or apothecary seemed like the most likely thing, but when Fenris finally reached the spot he shot Asaara a withering glance.

“The baths, really?” he growled.

“You smell like a week old dead ram,” she snickered. “It was either this or I drag you down to the ocean.”

“Fine,” he said. “But I’m going alone.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I have a qunari mate already. I have no interest in your scrawny elf body.”

She got him a bar of herbal soap, towel, bucket, and a bristle brush. Fortunately, this early in the morning there was no one else there. He shut the door behind him and eased himself down onto one of the taller stools. The process took much longer than it should have due to his injuries but by the time he donned clean clothes and walked out his hair was white again and he smelled much nicer.

“You look almost civilized,” Asaara quipped.

“I bet you think you’re fun at parties,” he retorted. “Now that I no longer offend you, what now?”

“Let’s find you something to do,” she said and led him towards the small village that his shack was on the outskirts of. “If you’re going to be here for a few months you might as well be useful.”

They wove through the streets which to Fenris’ surprise were crowded with people of all ages and races. It was a bustling community and not just a band of grizzled warriors hiding in caves in the jungle. A small group of giggling, screaming children blazed past him towards a market stall that was selling sweet smelling fried buns. His heart ached for Ariana and his child, and it only served to strengthen his resolve.

Asaara got him a fat bun, it was covered in a spiced sugar mixture and when he took a bite he was surprised to find a rich cream inside. He devoured it in three bites, not realizing how hungry he had been.

“You’re really thin,” she observed. “We’ll need to put some meat on your bones before you go.”

“Fattening me up?” he glowered. “Sure, you won’t just eat me?”

“You’d be too stringy, like bad goat,” she snickered. “You need food to heal, and the sooner you heal the sooner I can stop being your nanny.”

“You’re a nag more than a nanny,” he shook his head, wincing as his collar bone creaked in protest.

“I used to be a Tamassran for the Qun,” she stated. “I am a nanny, teacher, healer, arbiter, counselor and most certainly I am a nag.” She smirked at her last words and with a chin jut towards a small cabin in the market district she began walking with the expectation he would just follow.

Outside the cabin was unassuming. It had a thatched roof, a rocking chair on the porch and several dried flower garlands hung across the windows and above the door frame. When Asaara opened the door Fenris’ nose was assaulted with the scent of flowers and herbs. They were pungent and even acrid. From ceiling to floor were bundles of flowers, branches of juniper, various satchets of herbs and walls of potions.

“Celene I have an assistant for you,” Asaara called out and from the back room and elderly woman with cataracts appeared holding a fistful of dandelions.

“Who have you brought me, child?” Celene inquired, peering vaguely in the direction of the door with her milk-white eyes.

“The newcomer,” she answered. “He needs a job to keep him occupied and off my horns.”

“I heard about him!” Celene exclaimed. “A runaway slave in search of his pregnant lover. Quite cute too from what I heard.”

Fenris wrinkled his nose in irritation, but the women merely laughed. As their mirth died down he arched a brow and asked, “What am I to do here? I am not a mage or an herbalist.”

“You don’t need to be an herbalist to grind herbs,” Asaara replied. “That shouldn’t aggravate your injuries.”

Celene nodded and went to clear a spot at the only table in the room which was piled high with stacks of stained parchment that had weights on top. “You can sit here dear. I’ll bring you what you need, and you just use the mortal and pestle to make my pastes.”

Fenris shuffled forward and eased himself into the chair. With a relieved sigh he stretched his broken leg under the table. His shoulder was barking at him, but getting off the crutch slowly soothed it.

“In pain?” Celene asked gently.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I can handle it.”

“Very well,” she said with a nod. “I have some medicine if it gets too bad though.”

Asaara bid them good bye and told Fenris she’d get him at sunset. Celene bustled about the cabin grabbing handfuls of herbs and flowers before presenting Fenris the assortment. He was surprised at how she seemed to pinpoint every item she needed despite her lack of eyesight.

“How do you know exactly where to get what you need?” he asked as he stuffed the stone bowl full an began grinding away.

“When my eyesight started going I organized everything in precise detail. It may look like chaos to you, but to me it’s a well thought out system,” she replied as she took the weights off the pages and slowly peeled them apart. They were covered in dried flowers and she sat at the table with him and a needle and thread. The silence was punctuated by Fenris’ grinding and Celene’s humming, her voice was beautiful and Fenris found it soothing as he fell into a calming rhythm. Once he was done she took the mortar, scooped the paste onto a stone tablet and smeared it into thin strips to dry. She cleaned the bowl and pestle, returned it, and grabbed another slew of plants for him to process. They spent the entire day that way and Fenris found himself enjoying the quiet calm of things. At one point he leaned against the wall as he worked and soon dozed off. When he awoke the mortar was on the table and a soft blanket that smelled of flowers was over his body.

“You’re awake,” Celene observed, still sitting at the table, and making her garlands.

“I apologize,” Fenris mumbled and pushed the blanket down on his lap. “I didn’t realize how tired I am.”

“Healing takes a lot of energy,” she soothed. “Our healer said your injuries were extensive and you will take time to recover.”

“I’ll be fine,” Fenris insisted. “I just need to get to Kirkwall.”

“In time,” Celene said. “Just be patient, although I can tell that is not one of your virtues.”

Fenris hmphed and resumed his work. Soon the sky was turning candy pink and a knock sounded on the door. His nag was back. Asaara escorted him back to his shack and gave him a large bowl of stew with a few soft rolls for dinner. He looked at her warily and she smiled.

“Good work deserves good food. Besides if you recall I want to fatten you up.”

Fenris contemplated the steaming bowl of stew in his hands and felt a spark of gratefulness towards Asaara and the rest of the fog warriors.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “It looks delicious.”

“I’m leaving your door unlocked tonight in case you need to relieve yourself. I trust you won’t run,” she said.

“No, I will stay,” Fenris promised as he took a bite of the still warm bread.

“Good, I will see you in the morning,” she said and left him to his meal.

With his belly overfull Fenris laid on the bedroll, careful not to jostle his broken bones too much as he tried to get comfortable. After a minute he realized he’d need to ask if he could wash the blankets because as Asaara had said – they smelled like week old dead ram. His eyes fluttered shut and he was pulled into a deep sleep where he was in the countryside with Ariana living in a cabin that was surrounded by fields of wild flowers and their child was playing in the grasses nearby.

Ariana ----

“So what is the plan now?” Mikael asked after Ariana sold the last of her jewelry to a stingy Dwarven merchant in Hightown. Despite only arriving that morning she had been constantly on the move, and had barely stopped to eat the food he bought for her from a kebab stall.

“I think it’s time I visit my dear uncle,” Ariana replied, her voice dripping with contempt.

He blinked a few times but fell in step behind her as she turned towards Lowtown. Her face must have been like thunder because he noticed with some small amusement that people seemed to scatter when she approached.

When they reached a tiny hovel at the outskirts of the district Mikael wrinkled his nose. This didn’t seem like the home of a man made rich by selling his loved one to a magister. Ariana stepped up to the door and faltered. Her shoulders trembled, and just as Mikael was about to ask if she wanted to leave, she raised her fist and levied three solid pounds on the door. The thin wood jumped and shuddered with the force of her strikes. It was a wonder that she didn’t just break it down.

“Go away! I don’t have your money!” a voice snarled from the other side.

“I don’t need your money, uncle. I need your attention.” Ariana replied coolly.

The door suddenly flew open, and the infamous uncle Gamlen stared at his niece as though he had seen a ghost.

“A-a-ariana,” he stammered and poked his head outside to look around. “I never expected to see you again.”

“Clearly,” Ariana replied narrowing her eyes.

“Is your husband here with you?” he asked casually.

“No, he is not here.”

Gamlen’s face broke into a predatory smile and he waved for her to enter his shack. “Please, come in! We have so much to catch up on.”

“No,” Ariana snarled. “I will not come in. I will not share a drink. I will not commiserate with you about fond memories.”

“Then what do you want?” he inquired, clearly losing interest in the conversation.

“I want to help you,” she practically cooed. “I am going to send you away, but it’s ok it’ll be a wonderful place. Filled with so many opportunities that you could never have if you stayed in this filthy city.”

Gamlen’s eyes widened as she said the words he had spoken to her a lifetime ago. “I don’t think I can. I have obligations to fill here. I-”

“This is not a negotiation,” Ariana cut in. “You will pack your things and follow me to the stables. I will put you on a carriage and send you far away from this place, and you will never return.”

“Does this mean you’ll pay my gambling debts?” he asked, suddenly hopeful.

Ariana laughed dryly and shook her head as though he had told an incredible joke. “No. Those are yours to keep. Think of it as incentive to never show your face in this city again. It’ll take your debt collectors awhile to realize what has happened which will be enough time for you to settle into a new town and start over.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Her expression turned icy as she took a step closer to her uncle. He shirked back and she smiled bitterly. “In honor of my mother’s memory I will do this last thing to take care of you, and I will take solace in the fact that I will have treated you better and more honorably than you did me.”

Gamlen blinked slowly and his mouth opened and shut like a fish gasping for air.

“My offer expires in one hour uncle.” Ariana said as she turned to leave. “I expect to see you at the stables before the time is up.”

----

Not long after Ariana and Mikael stood at the stables on the north side of Kirkwall. Ariana was as far away from the horses and manure as possible. She held a scented handkerchief to her nose and inhaled deeply.

“You ok?” Mikael asked.

“Incredible sense of smell,” she explained weakly. “One of the perks of pregnancy.”

He nodded absently and watched as a carriage pulled by a massive chestnut gelding ambled on its way out of town.

“I’m here!” Gamlen groused loudly from behind the pair.

They turned to see Gamlen clutching a small pack which contained all his possessions. He was wearing a cleaner set of clothes and his hair had been combed with some sort of cologne.

“So, I see,” Ariana said flatly. “Come we’ll buy your ticket.”

“No no no, you just give me the gold and I’ll buy it. I don’t need you looking after me like a wetnurse,” he snapped.

“Hand over money to you and just expect that you won’t turn around and go drink it away? No, that’s not how this works uncle and the sooner you understand that the easier it’ll be,” she snapped. Gamlen flinched and his eyes widened. This wasn’t the same meek woman who arrived on his doorstep almost two years ago. Broken with grief over her family and eager to please the last relative she had in the world.

“Fine,” he growled.

After purchasing the ticket, the three waited for the carriage to be taken from the barn all the while Gamlen sighed and grumbled about how inconvenient this all was for him. Ariana refused to rise to the bait, and Mikael bit his tongue to keep from biting the crochety old man’s head off. Finally, Gamlen was inside the carriage with the pack on his lap. He refused to look at Ariana as though he were a petulant child and as the he pulled out of the city Mikael realized the man had never said a word of thanks for saving him from the debt collectors once and for all.

“Ungrateful prick,” he muttered.

Ariana chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t need his gratitude. My joy comes from knowing that I will never have to see his detestable face ever again.”

“I get that,” Mikael nodded. “Now what?”

“Now we go rest,” she replied, feeling the weight of the day suddenly come down on her full force.

“You look like you need a nap,” Mikael chuckled. “Do I need to carry you?”

She scoffed at his offer tantalizing at it may be, “I’m not so infirm as to need that.”

The stench at The Hanged Man had not improved but after being at a stable Ariana felt a bit more resilient. A worker took her and Mikael to their room and she was satisfied. It was small, the beds had barely enough room between them for her to walk sideways but they would both at least be on a mattress. The sheets and blankets were clean and eagerly she took off her cloak and climbed between the covers. Mikael set their bags down and watched amused as she curled forward slightly to hold her belly and it seemed she fell asleep within minutes.

Quietly he took one of his bags of gold from his pack and went back to the common room. He wondered if he could rustle up a game of Wicked Grace with one of the patrons. To his delight a dwarf with red hair half up and an impressive display of chest hair was currently embroiled in a game with a bald dwarf, a blonde human male and the human woman from before. When the red headed dwarf laid down the winning hand the others at the table groaned.

“Varric do you ever lose?” the woman groaned.

“Rivaini I have lost more gold than I am comfortable admitting,” Varric replied with a laugh. “Tonight, I just have good luck.”

“May I play as well?” Mikael asked, stepping forward.

“Oooh it’s you,” Rivaini cooed and scooted over to make room on the bench beside her. “I’d love if you’d join in.”

“Buy in is fifty gold,” Varric said with a nod.

Mikael plucked the correct amount from his pouch and handed it to Varric before sitting on the side opposite of the woman. She pouted and adjusted herself so that when she leaned over her breasts practically spilled from her top.

“Down Rivaini,” Varric said. “I sense you’re trying to climb the wrong tree.”

“I like a good bit of wood,” she smirked, not breaking eye contact with Mikael.

With a sigh Varric dealt the cards and Mikael brought his winning streak to an end. Hours later Mikael was sipping an ale and it was down to him and Varric. The woman whose name he discovered was actually Isabela had taken the other human at the table back to her room and the bald dwarf had folded just a short while ago.

“So, what’s a Dalish doing with a beautiful woman in a seedy place like this?” Varric asked as he took two cards. “In separate beds no less.”

“A man has his secrets,” Mikael answered as he kept his hand.

“Secrets? Who stole the First Enchanters staff is a secret. You’re the head of a downright scandal,” Varric chuckled. “But I respect your privacy.”

“Thanks,” Mikael said. “We won’t be here too long, we just need to find a place to settle.”

“Before the baby is born you mean?” Varric inquired as he laid his hand down – four swords.

Mikael froze and his hands were glued to his hand – a dragon high straight flush.

“I think you’ve won this one,” he mumbled and stood as he grabbed his gold.

“Hold on,” Varric said, holding his hand out as though to calm the anxious elf. “I’m not telling anyone else and as far as I know the only ones who know are myself and Rivaini.”

“How did you know?” Mikael whispered.

“Rivaini – Isabela, felt the her belly and I had to ask myself why a woman would go around with a cloak so tightly pulled around her shoulders,” Varric explained.

“Just…don’t tell anyone,” Mikael pleaded. “It’s to keep her safe.”

Varric nodded, “Her secret is safe with me.”

Mikael thanked him and retreated to the room where Ariana was still sound asleep. He locked the door tight and went to bed with his weapons under his pillow. Ariana had been right, they couldn’t stay there, but where could they go?

The next morning they sat on their respective beds and ate a meager breakfast of tough meat and twice cooked vegetables. Mikael gave half of his food to Ariana who devoured it gratefully.

“What’s the plan for today?” he queried.

“Today I find work,” she answered as she ate the last morsels. “I don’t have much money left.”

“I could work as a guard,” Mikael offered. “That would help bring us some gold. Plus I have winnings that can float us awhile.”

She smiled at him and took his hand in hers, “I would appreciate any help you can give.”

A wave of affection overtook him. If he ever had a baby sister, he imagined she’d be like Ariana. Kind, cunning and tough when it counts. He squeezed her hand before leaving the room so she could get changed into clean clothes for the day. Although she didn’t have her jewels anymore, she wanted to look more than presentable to a future employer. Her dress was forest green, and she used steel pins to create a half bun hairstyle where a curtain of her golden hair cascaded down her back, almost to her waist.  When she exited the room Mikael was waiting, leaning against the opposite wall and he gave her a tired smile. They locked the door and set off.

Ariana had a singular skill and that was healing. There were few healers in Hightown but they took one look at her and the Dalish behind her and refused to even talk. It was nearing noon and they were no closer to finding her work than they were before. Fortunately, through inquiry she found an organization who specifically helped displaced Fereldans. When they arrived Ariana nearly broke down into tears when she saw her own countryman and a woman came from behind the counter to give her a hug. Mikael hung back as the women talked but he stiffened defensively when the woman asked, “When are you due?”

“Just over two months,” Ariana replied. “I need a job until then at least. Preferably one I can work at afterwards too.”

“What can you do?” the woman inquired, as she went to a book she had on the counter. “I can you get work as a washerwoman but there’s a lot of heavy lifting and the work is sporadic.”

“Actually, I’m a healer is there any work in that around here?” Ariana inquired, her voice hopeful.

“There’s a clinic in Darktown,” the woman answered. “It’s not the safest place but the healer there is a good man and he helps all who are in need.”

“Sounds perfect!” Ariana exclaimed. “And he needs help?”

“There’s always need of a good healer,” the woman chortled. “Head to him and tell him Eunice sent you. That’ll help I think.”

After receiving directions Ariana and Mikael hurried to Darktown. It was indeed a dangerous and seedy place and Mikael stuck close to her with weapons drawn. When they reached the clinic Ariana straightened her clothes, rewound her bun, and confidently opened the door. Her greetings were cut short by the loud sounds of screaming.

“Hold him!” a strawberry blonde man roared as three men held down a fourth who was flailing and fighting them with all of his strength. “I can’t heal him if he’s hitting me!”

Through the throng of bodies Ariana made out large gashes and puncture marks on the patient’s torso and legs. The healer caught sight of her and shouted, “I’m afraid I’m rather busy madam. If you’ll take a seat, I’ll gladly help you when I’m through.” He dodged as the patient’s fist nearly collided with his jaw. “Damnit!”

“Can I help?” she asked, attempting to be heard over the din.

“I have it!” the man ground out and channeled a blue magical aura that began to heal the wounds. The injured patient screamed and this time his punch landed its mark sending the healer sprawling. One of the three men cursed as the patient began to break free.

In a fit of insanity Ariana ran forward despite Mikael’s shout of protest and she shot her hand out between the bodies of the men and felt her mana coiling and pulling from the veil. A green tendril snaked from her fingers and sought out the wounds on the patient. Up close she saw that he must have been attacked by several dogs. There were tears and large teeth marks all over, and a flap of skin on his thigh was missing. The man moaned loudly but began to calm as the pain was numbed. The ones who held him down stepped aside so that she could fully stand in front of them. Each wound filled with a green light that dimmed as it sealed shut. Within minutes he was left with only scars and he lay sweating and exhausted on the wooded table. Someone patted her on the shoulder, and another person said their thanks. The healer lurched to his feet and stared at her incredulously.

“Who in the Fade are you?” he demanded, causing her to shrink back. He gathered his thoughts, sighed and shook his head. “I apologize that sounded much angrier than it should have. Please let’s go speak somewhere more private.”

He took her to a far corner of his clinic and motioned for her to sit on a chair by another examination table.

“Who are you?” he inquired. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“My name is Ariana,” she said with a polite head bow. “I was told by Eunice to come here for a job as a healer.”

“Eunice? Well, I’ll have to thank her with a bottle of wine for finding me a competent assistant,” he chuckled. “Where did you learn to heal?”

“My father taught me,” she answered. “We lived in Lothering before the darkspawn wiped it out.”

“Father? So, you’re an apostate?” he asked, his eyebrows raised practically to his hairline.

“Is that a problem?” she suddenly felt her guard raise.

“Not at all! I’m an apostate as well,” he said with a shake of his head. “I find that those who haven’t been under the yoke of the Circle have a wider range of talents.”

“I am pretty narrow scoped I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I excel in healing but am only so-so at the rest.”

“Well then you worry about healing and if it comes down to it I’ll worry about the fireballs,” he chuckled. His gaze became more appraising them as he studied her. “You have a duality to you right now. By chance are you pregnant?”

Ariana nodded and pulled her cloak open to reveal her baby bump.

“Would you like an examination?” he asked.

She weighed her options. She hadn’t been examined by anyone since the attack, refusing to let the midwife anywhere near her.

“Yes,” she finally answered.

He helped her lay on the table and his hands, covered in that blue aura, swept over her belly. Gently he rested his hands on either side and gently pushed her belly up and down. She grunted at the sensation of her baby pushing against her lungs, and wondered if that would be her future as they grew. In protest her baby kicked hard at the offending hands that disturbed its rest. The healer finally declared, “Your belly is rather small, but your child is healthy. You really need to make sure you’re eating well.”

“I’m trying,” she said, making a mental note that she needed to get some food when they were done. They had been so busy she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and now thinking about it she was quite hungry.

He helped her from the bed, and she smoothed down her skirt.

“My name is Anders,” he said sheepishly. “I realize I should have said that before putting my hands on your body.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Anders,” Ariana giggled. “And no harm done. It’s nice to know my baby is doing well.”

“How long are you wanting to work?” Anders inquired.

“As long as I can,” Ariana insisted. “Even after the baby is born if possible.”

“Well, this isn’t a nursery, but we could put a crib in the corner where we have you work,” he thought out loud.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “I won’t disappoint you!”

“I don’t believe that you will either,” he smiled. “Welcome to my clinic Ariana.”

--------

Fenris –

One month after escape…

Fenris awoke in his shack slowly. Last night the healer had used some of his healing magic on his collar bone. Now it ached horribly but it was no longer broken. His leg was another matter. They couldn’t fully heal it since the break had gone clean through, but they were able to shorten his healing time from a few months to hopefully only a few more weeks. His nose was buried in a tattered scrap of red fabric. The handkerchief of Ariana’s was stained with dirt and plant residue, at this point her scent was only a memory but it didn’t stop him from falling asleep nuzzling it every night. As he sat up he retied the cloth as eased himself onto his good foot. Grabbing his crutch, he headed to the baths and began his daily routine.

Although she checked in with him multiple times a day Asaara no longer hovered over his shoulder and after advocating for him to the council Fenris was given permission to move freely about the village. The crisp air filled his lungs and he felt refreshed. There was a familiarity to Seheron that he couldn’t place, but sometimes there were flashes in his mind. Images and voices that spoke of a time before his brands. Another time it might have frightened or angered him to be reminded of things that had been long buried. But now he saw his past as something to move beyond rather than dwell in. He had a growing family now – that was more important than the black haired woman or the redheaded girl who appeared to him like apparitions only to disappear just as quickly.

After the baths it was back to work with Celene. She had promoted him from grinding and now his duties included making garlands, cleaning bottles, and grabbing things from high shelves for her. When he arrived, there was a hearty breakfast waiting for him and he devoured before getting to work making a garland of dawn lotus and royal elfroot. Celene had lived over sixty summers, raised five children, and was a font of knowledge. In perhaps greater detail than necessary she educated him on caring for a pregnant wife and subsequent newborn. She showed him which herbs could be used to increase milk supply to which he was grateful that she was blind and unable to see how red his face became when she casually discussed the condition of his lover’s breasts.

“I know you’re going to be pent up when you see her, but you have to take her condition into consideration. No wild lovemaking,” she informed him, causing him to stab the needle partway into his pinky and shout in pain.

“What?!” he spluttered as he pulled the needle out.

“Sex, dear,” she explained as though he were dense. “You can’t just climb on top of her and go-.”

“I got it!” he snapped and recoiled. “I’ll take her comfort into every consideration.”

“Good,” she nodded, and continued to de-seed a mountain of hensbane. “Although sex is quite healthy for a pregnant woman so you shouldn’t withhold from her if she asks for it.”

“Please stop,” Fenris pleaded. “I am not prepared to discuss this with you or anyone else for that matter.”

Celene chuckled but said no more on subject much to Fenris’ relief. Late in the afternoon Fenris cleaned the table off and put all of his tools away.

“You must like having the use of your arm back,” Celene observed.

“It still hurts like I was run over by carriage, but I am grateful,” he confirmed, reflexively he raised his arm and stretched the aching muscles. They had already started to weaken even though it was only a few weeks of disuse, and the healer had shown him exercises he could do to alleviate it.

“Your leg shouldn’t be too far behind,” Celene said, attempting to soothe him. “You’ll be with your woman and child before you know it.”

“I just…want to be there when the baby is born,” he said quietly. “I don’t want her alone for that.”

Celene sighed and a tic formed in her cheek as her lips were pulled into a frown. “I can’t say for certain what will happen, but if you do miss the birth don’t destroy yourself over it. You’re doing your best to get to her, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

Fenris brooded on that long after they said goodbye and he took a plate of dinner to his shack. He ate in silence. The succulent goat might as well have been ashes for all that he was tasted was bitter on his tongue. Laying the plate aside he leaned against the wall with his broken leg stretched out before him. He had never felt so betrayed by his own body before, and briefly he openly hated the frailty of the mortal body. The healer said a few more weeks, perhaps a month. That plus his voyage would put Ariana at about eight months along by then. He should have enough time although not by much.

He fell asleep in quiet but woke up to chaos. He sat upright and heard loud shouts and whoops passing by his shack. Firelight from held torches peaked through the gaps in the boards that made up his walls. His hand reached for a weapon that wasn’t there and he cursed his bad luck. All he had was a plate and a fork, but that wouldn’t stop an onslaught. The horde moved on and soon the entire village was up and responding to the caterwauling of the mix of men and women who had arrived.

“The raiders are back!” a delighted voice called out and more voices joined the din.

In a fit of morbid curiosity Fenris got to his feet and hoped to the doorway where he peered outside. He was too far away to make out details in the dark distance but there had to have been a group of near twenty people, a mix of races and genders, and many of them were carrying loot.

Fenris grabbed his crutch and made his way to the village. No one seemed to pay him any attention, they were too focused on their victors. The leader of the raiders was a male qunari who rose to almost eight feet thanks to his wicked curved horns. Asaara darted from the crowd and leapt into his arms with a fierce kiss.

“Kadan, I missed you,” the male rumbled and they rubbed foreheads affectionately.

“I was always with you,” she chided, placing her hand over his heart. “In here.”

The council came from their various dwellings, many of whom were still in their nightclothes, each had a smile on their faces.

“What did you bring us this time, Kas?” The elder asked as he approached.

“A trove!” Kas laughed. “The qunari raided a slaver port just north of here. Some of the bastards tried to flee with their belongings into the forest but we caught them.”

Two qunari stepped forward carrying a heavy chest. A human male tossed down what must have been an expensive rug, and a trio of elven woman laid a net down they had filled with clothes of fine craftsmanship.

“This will buy a lot of food and supplies,” the elder nodded, his eyes were filled with pride. Several people came from the crowd and began to sort through the items, laying them down in piles. A finely made black jacket with silver embroidery caught Fenris’ attention before it was buried under a pile of dresses.

“This calls for a celebration!” one of the younger councilmen announced and the village cheered in agreement. Casks were rolled out of the supply shed and soon trays of dried meats and cheeses were passed around. Fenris politely declined everything but the ale and took a long drink of the foamy beverage. It tasted of hops and citrus.

“Who let you out of the box?” Kas chuckled as he approached with his arm around Asaara.

“He’s a model citizen,” Asaara explained. “While you were gone he was given leave as though he had been born here.”

“Glad to hear it! You sure we can’t convince you to stay? We could always use a strong warrior in our ranks, and I saw the way you fought your former master. That kind of passion is needed around here,” Kas stated.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. There was something familiar about this qunari. Finally it dawned on him and he smirked. “You were the qunari with the hammer.”

“Guilty,” Kas shrugged, subtly flexing his muscular shoulders. “I’m also the one who carried you here, but I’ll pretend you thanked me for that already.” He winked at Fenris and laughed.

“Thank you, for saving me,” Fenris said, honestly and from the heart. “If it weren’t for you I’d be dead or worse.”

“What’s worse than death?” Asaara asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Being on Danarius’ bad side,” Fenris ground out. “My master was not one for kindness or mercy.”

“We have seen that. The lyrium branded into your skin was enough for our healer to label your former master as a madman, and she was one of your strongest advocates to the council,” Kas said with a nod. “What even is the point of them?”

Fenris stilled, how honest should he be with these people? They were strangers but they also had been kind beyond measure and because of them he had a chance to be with the woman he loved.

“They turn my body into a weapon,” he answered carefully.

“A weapon?” Asaara repeated, incredulously. “How so?”

“This is not the best place for this discussion,” Fenris said warily as he looked to the bustling crowd filled with precocious children that had been allowed out of bed to see the victors.

“In the morning then,” Asaara stated. “We will take you before the council and you can explain things in more detail. I don’t think we’ll have to lock you back up, but it’d be good to know exactly what you’re capable of.”

“Alright,” Fenris sighed, he was not looking forward to this. He finished his ale and headed back to his shack. The revelry lasted until past dawn, and it kept him up the entire time.

Hours later he stood before the council, Asaara, and Kas. Everyone looked surprisingly refreshed, which was a marvel to Fenris who figured he looked like a downright mess.

“So, Fenris,” the elder said. “It has come to our attention that those white marks on your body are not just mere cosmetic enhancements.”

“No, they are infused with lyrium and give me special abilities,” Fenris said in a calm even tone.

“They allow you to be a ‘weapon’,” the young male councilman said. “Is there a reason you never mentioned this before?”

“It didn’t come up,” Fenris replied with a shrug. The council did not like that answer and he saw lips purse and eyes narrow. “I have no intention of using them. I have no desire to hurt anyone here, you’re not my enemy – Danarius is.”

“If he had wanted to use them he could have easily done so when he had a single guard,” one of the women said contemplatively. “I do not believe he would mean us any harm.”

“What exactly do they do?” the elder asked, his head cocked curiously.

Fenris looked around and saw the wooden chest on the floor and jutted his chin towards it. “Is that locked?”

“Yes, but it’s nothing we can’t pick,” Kas shrugged. “One Elim sleeps off his hangover it’ll be opened in no time.”

“I can do it for you,” Fenris said. “Pick it up for me.”

Despite its size and weight Kas lifted it easily and held it chest high for Fenris. Leaning his weight to keep his right arm as free as possible Fenris mentally opened the brands. He poured his anger for Danarius, his impotent rage against his leg, and his primal desire to be with Ariana into them and felt his skin tingle along the curving paths. A flash like blue lightning crackled across his chest casting the world in shadow. Rearing his hand back he phased it out and slammed it forward into the wooden chest. Kas grunted as the chest rocked back against him. Fenris gripped the cold metal of the lock and squeezed it until the ghost of sensation pricked into his palm of the sharp metal digging in. Experimentally he tugged, but it didn’t budge. He needed more. Gritting his teeth he flooded his brands with more of his anger, but it still wasn’t enough. His hatred wasn’t enough for once. A flash of Ariana’s face filled his mind and his heart fluttered for her. A pulse shocked his brands and the lock wriggled. A shift occurred in his mind and instead of his anger he poured his love for Ariana and their unborn child into his brands. They flared bright like the sun and his eyes glowed. A wild surge of power raced down his arm and he wrenched his hand out of the chest. In a hail of splinters a gaping hole was left where the lock had been. He dropped it to the ground with a heavy clank and stepped back from Kas. As he calmed down his brands faded, but this time he was not hollow and angry. He felt strangely at peace.

“If he had wanted to kill us he could have,” a female councilmen said. “I do not believe he is a threat.”

“Nor I,” said the second female.

“I must say that I don’t either,” the elder said.

The other councilmen nodded and murmured their agreements.

“Then it’s settled, Fenris you may go about your duties. Nothing is changing, but nothing is to be said about what happened here to anyone. Understood?” The elder inquired, his face a mask of calm.

“I have no desire  to tell anyone, I assure you,” Fenris answered with a polite bow.

“Very well, be off with you then,” the elder waved him towards the door.

Without looking at anyone else Fenris turned and walked out of the building. He was hungry and he had a long day ahead of him.

Chapter Text

Ariana ----

One month after their escape…

Ariana had been working at Anders’ clinic for a few weeks now and she had never felt so useful in all her life. When she lived with her parents, they refused to let her get a job citing that an apostate setting up shop so near the wilds might get her branded as a witch and the templars would hunt her down. They stated they wanted to keep her, and her sister Bethany, safe but so often she felt stifled. Then under Danarius’ rule she could no more get a job than she could have said no to his advances. Here she had a purpose and was helping people which made her heart sing every time someone left her better than when they arrived.

A young boy no older than twelve was her current patient. He had been brought in by his mother who hovered over her baby and held his hand as he fought down his urges to scream. His foot had gotten caught between stones down at the docks and he twisted as he fell, breaking his bone in half. Ariana smiled gently at him.

“It’s ok to cry,” she said softly. “It’s just me and your mother, we won’t judge.”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “My father wouldn’t cry, and neither will I.”

Ariana nodded and held her hand over the wounded leg, his thigh was a bit swollen, but she was grateful the bone did not need to be set. The veil twisted around her fingers, stretching, and morphing to fit her hand like a glove. A soft green light illuminated her palm and the healing magic moved from her to the boy. He shuddered and his teeth clacked as the magic found the break and began to knit it back together. A snapped femur was a difficult thing to fix, but Ariana had been delighted the first time she’d been able to heal one in its entirety. Anders had praised her and said that he couldn’t have done better himself. Since then, she’d become the unofficial fracture healer.

As soon as the leg was healed the boy flexed his foot and broke into a wide smile. “It doesn’t hurt anymore!”

“Thank you, thank you,” his mother said through tears as she pulled her child into a hug. She then looked at Ariana with a pained expression. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to pay you. I have six mouths to feed at home and things are stretched tight as it is.”

“That’s alright,” Ariana smiled. “Give what you can and if you can donate more to us in the future we will gratefully accept!”

The woman nodded and handed over one silver and seven copper, not even enough to buy a loaf of fresh bread. Ariana held down her disappointment and refused to stop smiling until after the duo left the clinic. Afterwards she sighed and went to Anders who was carefully making potions.

“They couldn’t pay much,” Ariana said sadly.

He looked at the coins and grunted in frustration. “You deserve so much more than that.”

A swift series of kicks and wriggles surprised her as her baby seemed to wake up from a nap. She rested her hand over the bulk of the activity, and she nodded. “Hopefully the next ones will have more money.”

“We can only hope,” he said as he straightened up. “Are you well? When did you last eat? You can sit if you need to. I’ll take the next case.”

Smiling, she waved aside his concerns, “I ate about an hour ago, cheese and apples since I know you’ll ask. I feel just fine, the baby is just dancing around.”

“May I feel?” he asked, an innocent enough request.

She nodded and moved her hands to frame where the strongest kicks were landing. Anders came from behind the table and rested his large hand on her belly. “Your little one is quite lively,” he chuckled. She didn’t notice the way his thumb caressed her or how he lingered just a moment longer than needed. She was too focused on her baby to see the way he looked at her.

“Ariana,” he said, his voice dropping low. “I wondered if maybe you’d-.”

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by loud clanging that bore down the passage behind his door.

“Oh, for Maker’s sake,” he growled as the door opened. “This better not be another raid.”

The door swung wide open, and two people entered wearing armor. One was female with red hair and a headband with the town guard armor on, and the other was a male with long black hair wearing the armor of the templars. He cradled his arm which dripped blood from the gaps in his gauntlet.

“What is it now?” Anders snapped. “You came to ‘investigate’ me just last month!”

“Watch your tone,” the redhead said. “This isn’t anything of the sort.”

“Then what do you want?” Anders asked, his guard never lowering.

“Samson was stabbed on patrol near here, and needs healing,” the woman stated.

“A templar being healed by apostates?” Anders sneered. “What is the world coming to?”

“Anders!” Ariana scolded. “We help anyone who comes through these doors. Those were your words.”

He visibly deflated and folded his arms. “You’re right.”

“Come sit on the table,” Ariana said brightly. “I’ll see what we’re dealing with.”

Samson did as he was asked, and the guard followed close behind. Carefully the two worked together to get his gauntlet off and the guard held it as she watched Ariana intently.

Ariana leaned forward and winced, the damage wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either. The knife had gone nearly clear through his arm, but fortunately it missed all the major vessels and tendons.

“I’ll get this healed in no time,” Ariana said with a resolute nod.

“I think Anders should do it,” the guard declared. “It’s not right to tax a pregnant woman like this.”

“It’s no trouble,” Ariana reassured her. “I know my limits, and this won’t reach them.”

“Let her do it, Aveline,” Samson said. “Anders has too much of a bone to pick with us for me to be comfortable.”

“Very well,” Aveline sighed.

True to her word it didn’t take more than a few minutes for Ariana to heal the wound completely. Samson smiled and curled his fingers to test them out. “They work perfectly!”

“Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?” Aveline fussed the same way Anders had earlier. On the one hand it was sweet how much people cared about her and her baby’s health, but on the other the continued fretting sometimes made Ariana want to tear her hair out and scream I’m fine!

“Please don’t concern yourself with me,” Ariana said with a shake of her head. “We’re just fine so no worries!”

“Do you work here often?” Aveline queried.

“Almost every day,” Ariana answered. “Though sometimes Anders has me making poultices and potions rather than healing.”

Aveline nodded and pulled a small pouch from her chest plate. She counted out five gold pieces and handed them to a shocked Ariana.

“Take a few days off,” she said. “I know the workload this clinic gets, and you should have a rest.”

“Thank you,” Ariana whispered. This would buy her a lot of food and pay the rent on her home for weeks.

“Of course,” Aveline nodded. “Do you need an escort today? I can have one of my men here in the evening.”

“No, I’m fine. I have protection already,” Ariana answered. That first day she had healed the man with the dog bites she didn’t realize she was healing the son of a local crime lord. Ever since then she was given safe passage through Darktown. She was almost mugged once but the attacker had mysteriously been yanked into the shadows mid-threat and she heard nothing from him again.

“Captain, we need to get back to our patrol,” Samson pointed out as he slipped his still bloody armor back on. “And I need to find somewhere to wash this thing off.”

“You’re right. Let us be off then,” Aveline sighed and just as she turned to leave a memory flashed in Ariana’s mind.

“Wait…” she said and held her hand out. “Do I know you?”

 “I don’t think so. I am very good with faces and yours doesn’t ring a bell,” Aveline replied.

“No, I know you! You were near Lothering during the darkspawn attack two years ago. You helped me flee. I was there when your husband…well,” Ariana trailed off suddenly feeling horrible for bringing up such a bad memory.

“You were that girl?” Aveline queried, bewildered. “I remember we found you trying to fight off a group of darkspawn. Your family had been killed, and you were all alone.”

“And I was pinned down by a hurlock and you came swooping in and cut its head clean off,” Ariana said excitedly. “I remember that as if it were yesterday.”

“How have you been?” Aveline asked. “I never saw you after the boat.”

“Captain…” Samson groaned. “We need to go.”

“Right, right,” Aveline sighed. “I still wish to catch up though. I’ll be back in a week to check up on you. Please be sure to get some rest in the meantime.”

“I will!” Ariana promised as the guards quickly exited.

“That was interesting,” Anders observed as he approached Ariana from behind. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s a lot of money that she gave you.”

Ariana attempted to give some of it to him, but he shook his head in refusal, “I want you to keep it all. Pay your rent, buy food, buy something nice for the baby before they’re born.”

“I do still need to shop for clothes and a crib,” she thought out loud.

“There you go! Now it’s getting late, and you should head home,” he said, his hand stroking across her back as he withdrew it. She found the gesture odd but dismissed it as friendly affection. She’d never had many friends growing up isolated on the outskirts of Lothering so she couldn’t tell if his behavior was standard or not.

Ariana gathered her cloak and fastened it around her shoulders. Her belly was getting too large for the charade though and there was always a small swell beneath the fabric that was noticeable. Hurrying from the clinic, she went through Darktown unhindered and made her way to the Alienage. Since she was about to bear a half-elf offspring, she was told in no uncertain terms that she would have to live there when the baby was born. She also had Mikael around and their options were limited to The Hanged Man or the Alienage. One plus side is that she doubted Danarius, or his cronies, would ever expect to find her living in such a place.

Her home was tiny in comparison to what she had before. It consisted of a kitchen that opened right up into the bedroom. There were no doors except for the front one, and there were no interior walls either. A sense of pride filled her though as she approached her familiar green door with paint flaking to reveal weathered wood. This was her home, and she earned it.

“Oh! Back already Ariana?” her neighbor asked cheerfully.

She turned to face the young elven woman with faint brown vallaslin, and short black hair. “Hello Merrill. It’s near nightfall and my work is done for the day.”

“Nightfall? Have I been cooped up all day then?” Merrill frowned. “That’s why I’m so hungry. Would you like to share dinner with me?”

“Sure,” Ariana nodded enthusiastically. “Let me grab my food and I’ll be right over.”

Her offerings were meager, a stale loaf of wheat bread and a small wedge of cheese wrapped in wax paper. Merrill never complained or commented though, and Ariana always came away full. Merrill’s clan often gave her a bit of meat they hunted and food that they foraged. Tonight, there was some kind of fowl along with tubers they dug out of the marshes. As Merrill cooked Ariana studied the Eluvian that her friend was painstakingly trying to fix. She felt resonations of magic inside that always sent uneasy chills through her heart.

“When is Mikael coming back?” Merrill inquired as she piled food on both of their plates.

“Sometime next week,” Ariana replied. “The merchant was going to Starkhaven so they should be on their way back already.”

Mikael’s gold had already run out and he had been banned from any Wicked Grace game in Kirkwall save for Varrics’. Varric only played once a week though and if Mikael showed up most of the players would withdraw before the first hands were dealt. So, he was a mercenary now and guarded caravans or escorted wealthy individuals. At first the jobs were hard to come by since he was Dalish, but once he proved his skill the offers of employment came rolling in.

“I can’t wait,” Merrill giggled. She had developed quite a crush on Mikael who had taken to flirting casually in response. Ariana sensed some chemistry between the two, but she had vowed not to interfere.

They ate their meal and laughed together like old friends. Merrill had been the first one to greet her when she had moved in, and the one who didn’t make her feel like a ‘shem’. Afterwards Ariana went home and locked the door tight behind her. She changed into a nightgown and slipped into her bed. Once alone, she rested her hand on her belly and began to cry.

“Fenris…where are you?”

Fenris ----

Six weeks after their escape…

Fenris was fit to murder. He resisted the urge to send his fist through the next thing or person that came within reach of him.

“What do you mean it’s not healed yet?” He seethed.

“I’m sorry, ser,” the healer babbled, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I can only do so much.” He was a young man of nearly twenty and his face still bore youthful pimples which made him look immature for the task he was entrusted with.

Fenris clenched his fists and snapped. “I’ve eaten well, rested a lot, and I’ve drank the foul concoctions Celene has offered me. So why isn’t it healed?!”

“These things can take months,” the healer said weakly. “I can only estimate based on the examinations I give you. It will just be a little bit longer.”

Fenris only wished he wasn’t sitting on the table he longed to flip into the wall. If Ariana were here, she’d be able to fix his leg no problem, but this was the fog warrior’s most talented healer. Anyone else with healing skills had shaken their heads and stated that they could do no better.

“I don’t have time,” Fenris said quietly. “I need to get to Kirkwall now. Isn’t there something you can do?”

“I’m sorry ser,” the healer said with a slight bow. “I can’t help.”

Fenris snarled, grabbed his crutch, and left the healer’s hut. Rain pelted down on him, a perfect complement to his mood, and he had to step carefully as the mud was already half up his ankle. Asaara had said the rainy season was starting, and Fenris had been introduced to this delightful weather when one morning he woke up to find that he, and his bedroll, were soaking wet as the rain leaked through the slats of his roof.

Not wanting her charge to suffer, Asaara had arranged for Fenris to have a bed in the male barracks. It was specifically for the bachelors in town as homes were given to mated/married pairs and those who had a specialized job. Mostly it was full of raiders and guards, but they had only been welcoming when he showed up still dripping wet. It was quickly becoming a common state of being, and Fenris was glad that it was at least warm. He didn’t want to get sick on top of everything else.

He headed towards Celene’s house. She had graduated him to making poultices and so he no longer had to stitch flowers together, a fact his pincushion fingers were delighted about. His life had fallen into a routine – wake, eat, work, eat, sleep. It was all so mindless that his brain kept nagging him and wandering to Kirkwall where Ariana and their child now lived. He never doubted that she managed to escape, she had been too meticulous in her planning to fail. The only reason he wasn’t with her was that she never anticipated fog warriors would attack their caravan.

Although he tried to focus on his task a paranoid thought entered his brain and caressed his fears. What if he reached Kirkwall and she was gone? What if Danarius found her? What if she moved on to another city because he wasn’t there? What if she had already forgotten him?

“You’re brooding again,” Celene observed. She was stripping bark off a willow branch with surprising dexterity for a blind woman.

“I can’t help it,” Fenris replied. “I keep thinking.”

“Think of good things then. Stop worrying you won’t see her again and think of what you’ll do first,” she said as her razor-sharp knife sliced the bark into paper thin sections.

“I’ll give her the biggest kiss,” Fenris smiled. “Then I’ll fall to my knees and kiss her belly as well. I’m sure by the time I get there she’ll be near her time.”

“What next?” Celene inquired.

“I’ll take her to meet Varric. I befriended him last time I was in Kirkwall, and he writes the most terrible books. But she adores them, and meeting their author would definitely make her happy,” Fenris answered as he carefully tied the linen pouch with a light blue ribbon.

“You’re a considerate man,” Celene said with a nod. “She is lucky to have you.”

“I feel like I could do more,” he murmured. “When I was a slave, she cared for me despite my rank in society. She loves me more than I have ever experienced, more than I feel I deserve.”

Celene set the knife down and thunked the branch on the ground with a pointed stare at him. The moon white discs of her eyes were haunting, but he couldn’t look away. “We are all deserving of love, Fenris. Perhaps the circumstances of your birth have compelled the Maker to give you a gracious and loving woman.”

“The Maker has done me no favors,” Fenris spat. “If he truly wished to free me from my misery then he could do so instantly.”

“He works in mysterious ways,” Celene retorted cryptically. “When you least expect it, you may feel his eyes on you once again.”

Fenris shook his head and once again withdrew into himself to brood. Celene did not try to pry him out of his shell this time, and he finished the day without saying another word. A peal of thunder sounded overhead, and a flash of lightning illuminated the world around them. A sudden feeling of dread formed in Fenris’ heart. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what yet.

The storm raged through the day and night. The sense of impending doom would not abate and Fenris fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning the rain had let up. Kas and Asaara brought him breakfast, and the couple ate and visited while Fenris mostly picked at his food. The foot at the end of his broken leg itched and he wriggled his toes to try and alleviate it.

“Do you need me to tickle your feet?” Kas rumbled, reaching over with his thick grey fingers.

“No!” Fenris snapped and yanked his leg up. An ache in his muscles was all he felt, there was no sharp agony.

“Fenris,” Asaraa gasped.

“My leg…” he marveled.

The three of them tore into the plaster that encased his thigh and soon chunks of it were strewn about the room. Once exposed he experimentally lifted his leg and bent it. He nearly wept. It was healed and now he could leave.

“I thought the healer said I needed more time,” Fenris whispered, for once he was more relieved than angry.

“Joffrey isn’t always the best at healing,” Asaraa said sheepishly. “There’s a chance his examination was wrong.”

Before Fenris could open his mouth for an enraged rant Kas interrupted him, “I think this calls for a celebration!” Kas stood swiftly and pulled a shaky Fenris to his feet. He would need to get used to being on both legs again. A loud whistle like a bird call pierced their happy moment and both Asaara and Kas went still.

“What’s wrong?” Fenris asked, looking between the two.

“Invaders,” Kas answered. “Someone is getting close to the village.”

The whistle sounded again, louder, and more insistent.

“They’re close!” Asaara shouted and they tore out of the house. Fenris followed them with a shaky leg, but the qunari pair outpaced him and soon were gone.

“Damnit!” Fenris panted, his leg ached, and he felt useless.

A clanking symphony sounded around him, coming from all sides of the forest. Turning to where the sound was the loudest, his heart stopped.

Danarius.

It was as though the air in Fenris’ lungs had turned to ice and he choked on the frigid breath. Danarius stood before him with no less than thirty guards.

“Fenris,” his former master purred. “Delightful to see you.” Red magic crackled up his hand and his teeth were bared in a vicious grin. “I have need of you, little wolf. Now come.” He threw down a familiar item and Fenris warily picked it up. His gauntlets with their wicked claws and bare palms. This was not his usual set though these were new. Each tip had been sharpened into a fine point and even the knuckles were wrought into blade sharp edges. Perfect for ripping and tearing. As though compelled by a mind not his own, he put them on.

“We’re leaving now,” Danarius stated. “But you’ve been a naughty wolf while I’ve been away, haven’t you? I see your friends have a problem with our conversation.”

Fenris turned to see all the raiders and many of the villagers had come out and stood behind him in solidarity. Asaara and Kas were at the head of the group wielding a sword and a hammer respectively.

“Fenris, kill them,” Danarius ordered. “Every last one of them down to the smallest child.”

He turned to face the fog warriors fully, his brands flickered like a sputtering flame.

“Fenris…” Asaara warned. “What are you doing?”

“Yes, what are you doing?” Danarius sneered. “I said kill them now!”

Fenris curled his fingers and tested the lightweight feel of his gauntlets against his weakened hand. The pain of his broken bones still resonated in his mind as well as the memory of who caused them. Danarius believed he still controlled his ‘little wolf’ no matter what he had done. Kas readied his weapon and leveled a steely gaze at Fenris, his lips curled into a feral grimace.

“FENRIS!” Danarius bellowed.

“NO!” Fenris answered and spun around. “I refuse!”

Perhaps in another life he would have obeyed. Even now he felt the years of conditioning nearly forcing his body to act. However, this was not that life. He had Ariana waiting for him, a woman who suffered alongside him, who loved him despite his flaws, and was about to bear him a child. He would not submit. He would not betray the people who had nursed him back to health. He would escape this madman once and for all or die trying.

He lunged towards Danarius and instantly guards surrounded the magister. Fenris cut through two of them in quick succession, channeling his brands and ripping their throats out. The sound of the fog warriors joining the battle echoed all around him. Asaara came alongside him, and they became a whirlwind of death that no foe could stand against. Flashes of grey hair appeared amongst the black helmets of the guards and Fenris pressed on. Danarius was attempting to break from the fray and Fenris was in pursuit. Just as Danarius cleared the throng of embattled bodies a pair of guards grabbed Fenris and wrenched him back.

Fenris roared and fought against his captors. Danarius craned his head to see behind him and didn’t notice the log his foot inevitably caught on. He pitched forward with an indignant shout and sprawled in the thick mud. More guards flooded the clearing and Fenris felt dual swords pressing into his throat like scissors. A surprised yell sounded behind him as a shadow went over his head. He looked up to see Kas leaping past the group, holding his hammer in both hands, as he came down on Danarius like a vengeful demon. Danarius screamed, the sound delighted Fenris to no end, but the magister managed to twist his body out of the way, and the hammer only came down on his leg. A second scream, louder than the first rang through the clearing, and the fog warriors battled harder. High pitched whistles sounded from the tree line and a dozen arrows sunk into Kas’ chest.

“No!” Asaara wailed as her kadan collapsed to his knees. Weakly he attempted to strike Danarius with his hammer again but tipped over from the weight. His body didn’t move again. On either side of Fenris the guards blew apart in a hail of gore and blood and the swords around his neck fell away. A hand grabbed the back of his tunic and hauled him away from Danarius. He attempted to fight but Asaara snapped through her tears, “You want to get out alive, yes? This is your chance.”

“My chance is there!” he said as he watched guards pick up his broken, limp former master.

“Kill him and you die like Kas. Leave and you’ll be able to see your own kadan,” Asaara choked. The fog warriors parted for them. They were pushing the guards back, and many of the enemy lay dead in the thick mud.

“I’m sorry,” Fenris said quietly.

“Say sorry by living,” she muttered.

They wound their way through the forest for hours, many times it seemed they went in circles, and they reached the docks by nightfall.

“I’m covered in blood,” Fenris said as he stared blankly at the ships.

“Bathe in the ocean,” Asaara scoffed. “I leave you here. There is a cache behind the fishmonger’s store in a blue crate. Take it and take our well wishes with you.”

“Thank you, I could never have-,” Fenris turned, and his mouth snapped shut. She was already gone, having melted into the forest as though she were indeed made of fog.

Obediently he walked away from the docks until they was no longer in sight and used the salty water to rinse himself off. Once satisfied he went to the crate she spoke of and found a bag containing the black shirt with silver stitching inside, pants, and a small pouch of gold. Carefully he donned the clothes and threw his linen ones away and put his gauntlets in the bag before slinging it over his shoulders. He approached the dockmaster with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Can I help you, ser?” the man asked warily as he took in Fenris’ appearance. He was dressed finely but the brands were jarring.

“I wish to sail for Kirkwall,” Fenris said in a posh Tevene accent, the kind he’d heard nobles speak for years.

“Of course, ser!” the man nodded and ushered Fenris into his office where he had several ledgers laid out.

“When were you wanting to go?”

“As soon as possible.”

The dockmaster ran a finger along the pages and nodded, “I have a ship the Siren’s Call. She’ll be putting out to sea at dawn. Is that acceptable?”

“Most acceptable,” Fenris smiled. His mind was racing with excitement. He was finally going to see Ariana. They were finally going to be free together.

“Ah here’s the captain as I speak,” the man exclaimed and stood straight. “May I present Captain Isabela.”

Fenris turned to see a familiar smirking face. He resisted the urge to scowl as the woman looked him up and down.

“Fenris isn’t it?” she queried.

“Do you two know each other?” the dockmaster asked, looking between the two.

“Not as well as I’d like,” she purred, stepping towards him but Fenris moved so the chair was between them.

“As well as you ever will know,” he said evenly.

She shook her head and her eyes glimmered with amusement before she addressed the dockmaster, “I came to tell you I need to sail early. There is to be another storm coming and if I wish to avoid getting stuck here, I need to leave within the hour.”

“Oh, this is wonderful timing then! This young man wishes to charter a voyage to Kirkwall on your ship!”

“Two weeks alone on a ship with a handsome elf? Perhaps I should be the one paying,” she grinned.

“How much for a cabin?” Fenris asked, feeling worn down and exasperated.

“Thirty gold,” she answered, suddenly all business. “For another ten though I can give you a room with a bed instead of a hammock.”

“Hammock is fine,” Fenris said as he pulled the right amount from his pouch and handed it to her. She examined the coins and gave ten to the dockmaster.

“Let’s be off then,” she said and led Fenris to her ship which was busily getting ready to depart. She left him in the hands of her first mate who escorted him to his cabin. Once inside he sat on the edge of his hammock. The joy of the moment was tainted with sadness. Kas was dead, and Danarius was most likely still alive although broken. A look of scorn formed on his face as he hoped Danarius had a long and painful recovery although he very much doubted it. As the night stretched on his eyelids grew heavy and eventually, he laid down on the canvas hammock and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Ariana ----

Six weeks after their escape…

Mikael escorted Ariana to the clinic before he and Merrill set off to visit her clan. The two had been getting closer, and Mikael had said more than once that finding another clan was a balm for his soul. He lived in the Alienage though and when he was in town he still clung to Ariana’s side as a guard. At this point everyone assumed he was the father of her baby, and she only corrected two people on that matter. The first was Merrill. Before she knew that little fact Merrill had soundly slapped Mikael when he had tried to flirt with her. She attempted to shame him for being so bold with a pregnant ‘vhenan’ at home. Ariana had a good laugh at that and set the record straight. Afterwards Merrill had warmed to Mikael almost instantly when it was explained who Fenris was and how Ariana was waiting for him.

The second person was Anders. A few nights after she began working with him, she had been waiting for Mikael to come get her from the clinic and Anders had said, “It’s nice that the father of your baby dotes on you so much. I bet you feel very safe when he’s around.”

“Oh, he’s not the father,” Ariana said almost absently, already trusting him. “The baby’s father is named Fenris. I’m waiting for him to get to Kirkwall so we can be a family together.”

He had casually probed for more details, and she described Fenris with the same dreamy voice as a teenager with their crush. Smiling and nodding throughout, he bid her goodnight when her escort arrived.

Today at the clinic though it was busier than ever. There had been an accident at the dock where part of the rotted wooden pier gave way. There were several broken bones, gashes, and concussions. Ariana hardly had time to sit and had to scarf her meals down in record time between patients. When the last of the patients had been taken by their friends and family back home Anders approached her with concern etched on his face.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked softly.

“Yes, why?” she countered, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“You keep holding your back,” he explained, his eyes traveling down her body to her large belly which she had given up covering with a cloak already.

“Just some twinges is all,” she smiled. “I feel like in the last few weeks my back has been aching so much more.”

“Well, your little one has grown,” he chuckled, and reached out to caress her belly where small feet usually danced. “I think I’ll get a chair for you to sit at when you’re working on patients.”

“Please don’t,” she said, enjoying the feeling of his warmth seeping into her skin. He often asked to touch her belly, and she always said yes. He explained that due to the darkspawn taint in his body he’d never father children, and so she’d gladly given him the small glimpses that he would otherwise miss.

He stepped a bit closer and pushed a lock of her hair from her face, it had come loose from the bun she wore. “I want to take care of you.” He murmured.

Something felt wrong, and she took a small step back to break all contact between them. “I’m fine Anders I promise.”

Anders winced suddenly and grabbed his right ear as though protecting it from a loud sound.

“Anders?”

“Just a headache is all,” he groaned and screwed his eyes shut.

“I can get you some medicine,” she offered but he shook his head almost violently.

“Won’t help. Just need time,” he gasped. His eyes snapped open and she swore that she saw a vaporous blue gleam inside of them before it winked out.

“Why don’t we get you sat down?” she asked as she attempted to usher him to one of the tables.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Anders rasped, his voice holding a strange echo.

“Who?” her eyes widened.

“Fenris, you’re too good for him,” he continued, and she flinched as though struck.

Her eyes stung and at that moment, Mikael appeared. When he saw that she was on the verge of tears he glared daggers at Anders. She quickly bid Anders farewell and hurried to Mikael’s side. The elf wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her down the dark corridors. He refused to let her look back at Anders’ face which was awash with agony.

“Did he hurt you?” Mikael asked gently as they walked through the streets of Darktown.

“No, he just brought up Fenris is all,” she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Mikael sighed and held her tighter against his side. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“I know,” Ariana said softly, but deep in her heart a kernel of fear was taking root. What if he really wasn’t coming?

------

The next day Ariana was very quiet and tearful all morning. Anders tried to leave it alone but found that he couldn’t when he heard her sniffling for the third time in an hour.

“What can I do?” he asked gently as he approached her.

“Is there a chantry I can go to?” she replied, her blue eyes were bloodshot and the handkerchief she held was damp.

“Chantry? Yes, do you want me to take you?” he inquired.

Nodding she grabbed her cloak, and he escorted her to Hightown. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Anders asked.

“I need to get some things off my chest,” she answered. “Things that I am ashamed of or that hurt greatly.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to tell me anything,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, Anders,” she sighed. “Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to do so.”

He looked down at her with a conflicted expression but said no more. When they reached the chantry doors Ariana looked at him curiously. “Coming in with me?”

“I think not,” he replied with a bitter tone. “The chantry and I have never seen eye to eye.”

She nodded and a young acolyte pulled the heavy wooden door open for her.

The inside of the chantry reminded her of her home in Lothering and she found comfort in that. This place was much grander, but the smell of melted wax and the sound of the canticle being read was the exact same. She had never been one for religion, but she felt like she needed a bit of faith right now.

“Can I help you?” a soft voice said behind her. She jumped in surprise and turned to see an elderly woman with a kindly smile dressed in chantry robes.

“I-I don’t know,” Ariana stammered, suddenly feeling out of place.

“I see you are with child,” the priestess said gently.

As though protecting her baby Ariana rested both hands on her belly and nodded.

“You and your babe are safe here, my child. Now what do you need from the Maker today?”

“I want to go to confession,” Ariana replied quietly after a few moments of silence.

“Ahh confession is good for the soul and heart,” the priestess said and ushered Ariana to the far end of the chantry where cherry wood doors led to the confession booths.

“You take a seat in here, and someone will be on the other side in a few minutes,” the priestess said before leaving Ariana to go find someone to help.

Ariana sighed and sat on the small bench that spanned the width of the tiny chamber. A small ornate grate separated her from the priestess on the other side. She felt the distinctive shift of her baby followed by a strong wriggle.

“You’re quite energetic today,” she said and stroked where most of the movement was concentrated.

“Well, I am fortunate in that I’m an early riser,” a low brogue voice chuckled from the other side of the grate. She didn’t remember seeing a priest in the common area, but they weren’t unheard of.

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I like talking to my baby when we’re alone. I like to pretend they can hear and understand me.”

“A mother’s love is a sacred thing. Even if the words are not clear the love in your heart certainly is,” he answered.

Ariana contemplated that for a moment before suddenly remembering why she was there, “Bless me father for I have sinned!”

She saw the shadowy profile of the man next to her: A strong jawline, straight nose, and she could smell the lingering incense that clung to his robes like a heady cologne. He gave a knowing nod and replied “The Maker forgives all that come before him with a contrite heart. Please tell me of your sins.”

Ariana’s eyes filled with tears and in a shaky voice began her story. The priest commented occasionally and provided absolution throughout, but he mostly sat and listened as she spoke.

“So now I’m pregnant and waiting in this city for the love of my life to return to me. Every day that goes by though I worry more and more that he has died, wasn’t able to free himself, or has chosen to live a life without the burden of a me or a child,” she finished and gasped through her teats. She missed Fenris, every night she prayed and hoped that he would just step out of thin air and hold her.

“Unfortunately, my child, I am a priest and not a soothsayer so I cannae answer where your lover is at or what is in his mind,” the priest said. “I can see the pain in your heart for the sins you carry, but I also see that you carry the sins of another as though they were your own.”

“What?” Ariana asked, confused.

“Your husband is a terrible, evil magister and he did everything in his power to make those under him suffer. You tried to shield his slaves from that but when you failed you felt as though you were responsible for his sin.” The priest continued, his voice becoming stronger with his conviction. “You freed the slaves he tormented. You work in a dangerous part of town to provide care and healing for those lowest in society. What penance can I give you that you have not given yourself?”

“It doesn’t feel like enough!” Ariana cried out, and her fists clenched in anger. “What can I do to stop these feelings from swallowing me whole?”

“The Maker absolves you of your sins, my child,” the priest said softly. “He loves you, and your bairn, unquestioningly, unflinchingly, and unreservedly. Now, with the forgiveness of your creator the only thing left to mend your heart is for you to forgive yourself.”

It felt as though everything crashed down on her at once and she wept. The door on the other side opened and the priest was gone. When she finally composed herself, she stepped outside of her booth and almost ran into a handsome man on the other side. His nape length brown hair, and tan skin made his blue eyes even more vibrant in contrast. He handed her handkerchief which she used to dry her cheeks.

“I thought the fathers and mothers who perform confessions are supposed to keep anonymity,” she said, and attempted to hand back the handkerchief which was politely refused.

“Well, I’m a chantry lay brother at the moment,” he said with a small grin. “As such I bend the rules from time to time.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He nodded and took stock of her. “How far along are you?”

“Over eight months,” she replied quietly.

As though deciding something the man nodded, “The chantry boy in me wishes to bid you a good day and send you off with the Maker’s blessing, but the gentleman in me demands I not let a pregnant woman wander the streets at night.”

“Night?!” Ariana gasped and looked up to see the moon shining through the stained-glass windows. “I came in her just after lunch…”

He chuckled, the sound was warm and low, and said, “You had a lot to get off your heart, and that’s okay.”

Normally she’d refuse but Ariana was worried about the reports of strange murders that seemed to be popping up here and there.

“Yes, please take me home,” she said softly, and he fell in step behind her.

Along the way she learned his name was Sebastian, and that he was rather new to the chantry life, having been a prince of Starkhaven before his entrance into the holy order. When they reached the Alienage, he gazed around the area with mild curiosity. He did not appear to be judgmental though and he simply took her to her door and bid her goodnight. Offering her his hand he gave a blessing to the Maker to watch over her and her bairn.

----------

The rest of her work week passed much the same. Eight days after she went to the church it was officially Ferventis. Her baby was due in a few weeks and her anxiety was reaching a fever pitch. There was still no sign of Fenris, and every day that passed her hope dwindled. The stress was making her back pain flare up and it had kept her up the previous night.

In an effort to cheer her up one afternoon Merrill took her shopping for baby paraphernalia. She didn’t know what color to get so Ariana purchased clothes in soft yellows and pastel greens. There was a blanket stitched with flowers and rabbits on it that was perhaps too expensive, but she had to have it anyway. She had kept some of the gold Aveline had given her for this occasion, so she decided to splurge. After the clothes, the blankets and cloth diapers they searched for a crib. One immediately sang to Ariana. It was white painted wood with a frilly white canopy. She managed to haggle the shopkeeper down and soon she and Merrill were carrying her purchases back to the Alienage. The crib was in two parts with Merrill carrying the larger sides.

“You’ve tidied up again,” Merrill observed when they entered the home. The place was spotless, and Ariana looked almost embarrassed.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” she admitted. “So, I cleaned instead.”

“Nesting,” Merrill laughed. “Pregnant women often do that when they’re time is near.”

Ariana shook her head. “I’ve nearly a month left. I wonder how many times I’ll ‘nest’ until then.”

They laid out the clothes on Ariana’s bed and she felt a warming in her heart as she picked up the perfect outfit to bring her baby home in. When she held the soft, tiny shirt in her hands she gasped, another wave of sadness overtook her.

“Oh, love what’s wrong?” Merrill asked, rushing to her side.

“Where is Fenris?!” Ariana screamed as the dam burst inside of her and she sobbed between gritted teeth. “Why isn’t he here?”

“I’m sorry,” Merrill winced as she stroked Ariana’s back. “Maybe something has kept him.”

“Like being dead?” Ariana said her voice rang hollow. “What if I underestimated Danarius? Fenris could be dead on Seheron, and I’ll never know.”

“From what you’ve told me he’s a strong man,” Merrill said. “I’m sure if there’s anything that’s keeping him from you, he’s moving heaven and earth to get past it.”

“It’s so hard waiting,” Ariana whispered.

Merrill drew her into a hug, and they held each other tight. “That’s why you have me, Mikael, and soon your little one will be part of your life. You won’t have time to think or worry then.”

Ariana nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks, “You’re right. It’s not like I can do anything else. I can’t exactly go and look for him.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Merrill chirped. “The Keeper teaches us that from a young age.”

“Maybe I need to go talk to them. I could use a crash course in patience,” Ariana smiled.

She and Merrill began to put together the crib. Merrill held the base as Ariana maneuvered the mattress into place. Just as she was pushing it down and squishing it into place, she felt a sudden pop inside and warm fluid trickled down her leg.

“Oh no,” she gasped.

“Oh Ariana,” Merrill murmured, her hands flew up to her mouth.

“But Fenris isn’t here yet,” Ariana said weakly.

“But soon your baby will be,” Merrill tried to give her an encouraging smile.

They quickly grabbed her cloak, spare gown, and the baby’s clothes. The first real contraction hit Ariana as they were at the door, and she braced her hand against the rough wood as she groaned. Merrill held her hand and attempted to soothe her.

“Breathe…breathe through it.”

Once she had recovered, they hurried to Darktown, stopping occasionally for Ariana to get through her contractions. The door was locked but Merrill beat on the thin wood until a very perturbed Anders appeared.

“What is-?” His question was cut off by Ariana moaning and gripping the door frame as another strong contraction hit. “Get in here now,” he urged.

He took her to the back of the clinic that doubled as his home. The door opened into a nice little kitchen and beyond it was a doorway that he gently guided her through. In it was a rumpled bed, and she realized Anders had been asleep.

“No, I can’t… this is your bed,” she stammered. “I can be out there like the others have been.”

“I will not have you give birth on a cold examination table,” he insisted as he motioned for her to sit. She had to admit the bed was more comfortable than the tables, and nicer than hers at home. She took off her wet gown and settled back against his pillows. The scent of him surrounded her, and it was unmistakably male with undertones of herbs and soap.

“How often are the contractions?” he asked, resting his hands on her belly to examine her.

“I don’t know,” Ariana answered.

“About every fifteen minutes,” Merrill replied, excited to have the answer. “She had four between the chantry bells.”

“Well, we could be here awhile then,” Anders sighed. “Did your water break?”

“Yes, that’s what seemed to start all of this,” Ariana nodded.

“Try to get some rest,” Anders said. “This could take all night.”

Ariana groaned loudly and this time it was from exasperation rather than pain. Merrill went to sleep on the couch, and Anders made himself a bed on the floor next to Ariana. “I’ll be here if you need me,” he said softly.

The clinic was closed the next day, and just after sunset Ariana brought a son into the world. When she was cleaned up and nursing her baby Merrill crouched by the bed.

“What’s his name?” she asked and ran her finger across the blanket that covered his back.

“Camilo,” Ariana replied resolutely.

“A Tevene name, not Fereldan?” Merrill inquired.

“It means ‘born to freedom’,” Ariana whispered and kissed her child’s chubby cheek. Although he was early, he was healthy, and only a little smaller than normal. His ears were swept into fine points like Fenris, but he had a crop of black hair that matched Fenris’ eyebrows. Vaguely Ariana wondered if his hair had been black before the brands.

“He’s beautiful,” Anders said with a smile as he fluffed fresh clean sheets over her legs. “You were magnificent Ariana. I could not have asked for a better patient.”

“You’re too kind,” Ariana blushed. “All I did was scream and push.”

“But you didn’t break my hand!” Merrill said, holding up her slightly swollen fingers. “I’d say that was a success.”

Ariana giggled and looked to Anders, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll get up here in a bit and Milo and I can get out of your hair.”

He shook his head vigorously, “Please stay as long as you need. There’s no rush – I can sleep on the couch!”

“Are you sure?” she asked, settling back against the pillows, and giving him an exhausted smile.

“Quite,” he said, turning and shaking his head as though there was a buzzing in his ears. “Please take all the time you need.”

He left her then to make them some dinner. Merrill stood and stretched her sore limbs. “I think I’ll head home myself. Congratulations Ariana, and welcome to the world Camilo!” Once alone with her son Ariana lay back against the pillows and marveled at the life she and Fenris had created.

Fenris ----

Two months after their escape…

Fenris stood at the railing of the ship as it pulled into the harbor. He had been avoiding Isabela like the plague and was about to vault twenty feet down onto the pier when she appeared from the decks below. However, she just breezed past him and waited for her sailors to lower the gangway. She made a beeline for the dockmaster and showed him her papers. A fat coin purse exchanged hands as she gave the man a scintillating kiss on the cheek. Fenris rushed past her and towards Lowtown. If anyone could help him it would be Varric, and he knew just where to go to find the dwarf.

The Hanged Man had not lost its lack of charm Fenris observed as he approached the decrepit building. Just as he got to the door it flew open and the bartender threw a drunk patron into the dirt.

With a face like an angry storm, the bartender snarled. “Next time I see your hide you’d better bring the money to replace that table, or I’ll have the guards lock you up for vandalism.” He slammed the door shut and the soused man stood up and promptly vomited at Fenris’ bare feet.

“Wonderful,” Fenris said dryly as he stepped beyond the retching man.

As he entered he was hit with the familiar scent of sour sweat and ale. Casting a glance around he groaned internally, Varric was not here. The bartender was bent over the fragmented remains of the table and Fenris walked up to him with his head held high.

“I’m looking for Varric,” he said.

“He’s out,” the bartender grumbled.

“When will he be back?”

“Later.”

“Do you have a time?”

The bartender sighed loudly, turned, and faced Fenris head on, “I don’t know. Now either buy a drink or rent a room or I’ll throw you out as well.”

“You’re a happy fellow, aren’t you? A room it is then,” Fenris said and gave him the appropriate amount.  He then went to sit at Varric’s unofficial table and sighed. There was a deck for Diamond Back laying there and he began to play a singleton game Varric had taught him last time he was in Kirkwall. He growled in frustration as he kept losing to the deck and shook his head after his fifth loss.

“Well, well, it seems as though you’re everywhere that I want to be. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be flattered,” Isabela said as she sat across the table from him.

“What are you doing here?” Fenris groused as he laid the dragon of diamonds over the angel. Luck seemed to be changing for him.

“I came to see my friends, meet some new faces, and apparently chat with you,” Isabela answered.

“I’m not-,” he began.

“Interested,” she finished with a raised hand. “I’m all too aware of that. Now what are you doing here?”

“There’s a man I’m here to see. He may be able to help me find someone in this city,” Fenris answered, setting down his cards. He was one move away from winning and he could taste the victory.

“Who might that be?” Isabela inquired with a raised brow.

“Broody!” Varric called out as he came upon his table. “I see you’re back in Kirkwall. Did you get another night off from your master?”

Fenris stood, shook Varric’s hand, and gave him a small smile. “I have no master now. I’m actually looking for someone and wondered if you could help.”

Varric sat in his chair, leaned forward to place his elbows on the table, and with a nod he said, “Talk to me.”

Then Fenris proceeded to tell them both the story of Ariana’s plans, their escape from Danarius, and his recent encounter with Danarius at the fog warrior’s home. He ended everything by stating that Ariana had come to Kirkwall and should still be in the city. His words grew more desperate as he spoke, and his anxiety was palpable.

“What did this lovely lady look like?” Isabela asked slowly.

“She has blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She’s shorter than me and by now should be getting close to her due date,” he answered.

“And is she traveling with a Dalish man?” She followed up, and Fenris frowned.

“How did you know?” he demanded.

“She was here about a month ago,” Varric answered. “Just for a few days though then she left, and I haven’t seen or heard anything about her since.”

“Nor I,” Isabela chimed in.

Fenris nearly tore his hair out. He was so close yet so far, and it was driving him mad. Somewhere in this fetid cesspool of a city the love of his life was living and waiting for him to come to her side. He needed to find her, and now.

“I need to go,” he muttered and made to leave.

“Woah, hold your horses there!” Varric exclaimed. “We’re going to work together to help you.”

“’We’?” Fenris asked, confused.

“I’m joining in the hunt too,” Isabela said with a nod. “I don’t think it’s right for a woman to be separated from her lover, especially not while pregnant.”

“Where shall we go first?” Fenris asked, suddenly realizing that he had no idea where anything was in this city except for Ceres’ former manor and the Hanged Man.

“Well, a baby needs clothes, and such so let’s go find one of those merchants and ask them if they’ve seen anyone matching her description,” Varric said as he stood.

They headed to Hightown, where the finest merchants were, and they quickly learned that Fenris lacked the finesse for asking important questions, however he refused to let Varric take over for him.

 “I’m looking for a pregnant woman!” Fenris growled as he accosted yet another merchant who looked at him with bewildered wide eyes.

“I have none,” the human with an Antivan accent said as he glared at the nearly rabid Fenris.

Varric held up his hands to try and stop the pacing elf, “Look, broody, you can’t just go telling people you need a pregnant woman. You’re going to get us in trouble with the–.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

“Guards….” Varric sighed and shook his head. “Ok let’s all keep cool now.”

Fenris stood on edge as a pair of men approached, both male. One was a guard with shaggy brown hair and impressive sideburns. The second was a templar with short blonde hair.

“I’ve received reports that a suspicious individual has been bothering good citizens and demanding they turn over a pregnant woman,” the brunette said and folded his arms.

“Not any pregnant woman,” Fenris snarled. “A specific pregnant woman. She’s a blonde human, with sky blue eyes, and should be due any day now!”

“What’s she to you?” templar asked with a raised eyebrow.

Fenris stepped up to the man, and the guard drew his weapons. Varric and Isabela seemed to hold their breath and then he pleaded.

“She is the love of my life, and the child is mine. If you know anything, then please tell me.”

The two men looked to each other, each with a conflicted look that vacillated between professional indignation and pity.

“There are a lot of women who would meet the description you’ve given,” the templar shrugged. “How can we possibly narrow that down?”

“She’s also got a Dalish guard with her,” Varric interjected. “If that isn’t unique enough then I don’t know what is.”

“Dalish?” the guard asked and cast a glance at the templar.

“She might be at the Alienage then,” the templar confirmed what his cohort had been thinking. “It’s past Lowtown, just look for the signs.”

“What’s an Alienage?” Fenris queried.

“It’s not a good place, broody,” Varric sighed. “It’s where society segregates elves from the rest of us. They’re packed like sardines in there and if something breaks the local human leaders leave it up to them to fix it, but don’t provide the supplies to do it.”

Fenris’ heart sank at the thought of his Ariana living in such conditions but that only drove him forward. As they wove through the streets, he caught sight of Ceres’ former manor. It stood seemingly abandoned, and a flash of satisfaction ran through his mind at the knowledge the harpy was truly dead. Within the hour they were in the Alienage and it was just as bad as Varric had said. The houses were worn down and many of them were breaking apart. Several of the elves milling about had a sadness to them that weighed on the heart. Varric questioned several people who were wary of these newcomers, but finally a young male pointed to a set of houses, each with a different colored door and told them which one to go to.

It felt as though Fenris’ heart was about explode with yearning as he stood at the green door. He tapped his knuckles on the door and held his breath. Nothing happened. He knocked again, louder this time and once more nothing happened. Finally, he knocked so hard the door practically came off its hinges.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat a door. You’re going to break it down!” A woman barked at him from the red door on the right.

Fenris whirled around to see a young elven woman with tattoos and black hair. Her eyes widened at him, “Fenris?!”

“Do I know you?” he asked slowly, with one eyebrow raised.

She rushed to him and grabbed his hands in hers. “Ariana has talked of you endlessly! How could I not recognize you? Oh, Milo is your spitting image!”

“M-Milo?” he stammered, his mouth dry like a desert.

“Your son!” she chirped. “He was born two weeks ago. Ariana tried to hold out for you, but Milo had other plans.”

“I have a son,” Fenris murmured as his mind reeled from the information.

“Yep, and he’s a real sweetheart. You’re going to be so happy when you see them,” she declared.

“Where are they?” he asked almost frantically.

“They’re at Anders’ clinic in Darktown. Follow me and I’ll take you there,” she turned and jogged out of the Alienage. The trio followed her into the depths of the city’s dregs and Fenris briefly wondered what Ariana was doing down there.

At the door to the clinic the woman, whom he now knew was named Merrill, pulled the handle for him and ushered him inside. “Go on!”

He stepped into the clinic and surveyed the room. A male in mage’s robes was scrubbing blood off a wooden table. He glanced up at Fenris and all the color drained from his face. Past him Fenris saw a familiar woman. Her blonde hair was woven into a long braid that hung over one shoulder, her eyes were focused on the ingredients she was weighing carefully, and she hummed a sweet melody as she worked. There was a crib next to her and she frequently looked inside it with adoration.

“Ariana,” Fenris croaked. He had lost the use of his tongue for a moment, and he fought to regain control.

Her head shot up and she gasped. “Fenris?”

“It’s me Ariana,” he nodded, walking towards her. “I’m here.”

She dropped everything, practically leapt over the table, and ran into his arms which were held wide open for her. Their lips crashed together, and they sank to their knees holding each other as though the other might disappear if they let go even for a moment. When she pulled back from the kiss, she saw the tears he allowed to fall freely.

“I told you nothing would keep me from you,” Fenris said softly, his hand caressing the back of her head. “It just took me far longer than I expected.”

“You’re here now, and that’s what matters,” she reassured him. He rested his forehead against hers and stroked her cheek. “I love you, Ariana.”

She jerked back in surprise, “You’ve never said that Fenris.”

“Before I was a slave and I felt that I was unable to profess my love. I thought it would only bring misery as though the words might curse you. But now I’m free and I know I can say it to my heart’s content. So again, Ariana, I love you dearly,” he confessed.

“I love you too Fenris,” she whispered and buried her face into his shoulder. She didn’t want this moment to end. She wanted desperately to live in this little world they had together.

Varric, Merrill, and Isabela left for their respective homes, and Anders went as far away from the happy couple as possible. He leaned over another examination table and hung his head as though being scolded.

A soft whine cut through their touching moment and Ariana smiled. She pulled Fenris to his feet and escorted him to the crib. Gently, she lifted a squirming newborn from his mattress, and presented him to Fenris.

“Fenris, please meet your son Camilo,” she said, her smile both nervous and excited.

“Camilo…’born to freedom’,” he marveled as he took his son into his arms. Merrill had been right, Camilo looked so much like him from his nose to pointed ears, and when those tiny eyes opened to look at him, he grinned wide. They were blue like Ariana’s and full of sleepy curiosity. “A wonderful name for a wonderful son.”

He held Milo so carefully after a moment Ariana giggled, “Relax Fenris, you’re not going to break him.”

“I’m just not sure what to do,” he admitted.

“Love him, and the rest will come naturally,” she said. He leaned forward and captured her lips once more and she sighed in delight. This is what she had been waiting for – they were finally reunited, and nothing would ever tear them apart again.

Chapter Text

Ariana carried a small bag of baby paraphernalia, while Fenris held Milo. She kept glancing sideways to watch him complete the task with great care. His back was ramrod straight, and he held Milo like his son were made of Antivan glass: precious and liable to break if you blow on it too hard.

“You can relax a little,” she chided gently.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Fenris retorted, his shoulders stiffening when Milo began to squirm. Turning towards his father’s face, Milo opened his mouth and began rooting on his Fenris’ neck.

“What’s he doing?!” Fenris barely repressed a shout, but his panic was evident.

“He’s hungry,” Ariana laughed. “Come on, we’re almost home, and I can feed him then.”

“You have milk at home?” He inquired.

“More like I carry it with me wherever I go,” she winked and stifled a giggle when Fenris peered down at the bag as though impressed.

“Must be heavy,” he remarked.

“You have no idea.”

When they reached her familiar green door, Milo began to snuffle and whine. Hurriedly, Fenris shut the door and passed him over to Ariana. She went to the bed and began to unfasten the side bindings of her dress and breastband. Fenris cocked his head when her heavy breasts were freed, and he watched fascinated as Milo latched onto one nipple and settled instantly.

“Oh, that’s what you mean.”

“Haven’t you ever seen breastfeeding?”

“The slaves and lower classes feed their infants this way. Magisters tend to hire others to do it for them.”

“To each their own, I guess,” Ariana shrugged.

They fell into a comfortable silence except for the sound of Milo’s swallowing. Fenris sat beside Ariana on the bed and leaned his cheek against her head.

“I had been so worried I’d never see either of you again,” he confessed. “Yet here I am, the luckiest man in the world.”

She sighed contentedly, “I think we’re both lucky to have made it this far. I have never felt so free.”

“So long as I’m alive, you and Milo always will be,” he vowed.

They shared a long lingering kiss, and after burping Milo and teaching Fenris to change a diaper, Ariana made them a meal. She pulled chipped plates from her single cabinet and laid them on the counter. On each one, she filled with grapes, a wedge of cheese, bread with jam, and dried strips of meat. The vendor never told her what it was from, and she knew better than to ask.

As she busied herself with her tasks, Fenris looked around the hut she called home. It was threadbare and worn. The plaster was peeling and coming off the wall in chunks. The floorboards creaked, and the door had visible holes in it. Winter would be here soon, and the idea of her and Milo being here distressed him. He was planning to secure a safe, warm home for his family.

“You’re brooding again,” Ariana observed, bringing the laden plate over. It had the same amount of food she would eat over three days, but this was a special occasion, so she decided to indulge.

“Thank you,” he murmured and dug in. They shared stories of their misadventures while apart, and Ariana began to tear up when he recounted how he’d been injured.

“I wish I’d been there,” she said sadly.

“As much as I would have loved your healing, I am glad you were safe and far away from there,” he insisted. “Danarius found me, and had you been there, I don’t want to think what would have happened.”

She reached across the table, and he reflexively gathered her hand in his.

“We’re together now,” her eyes were filled with tears, but she was smiling. “Nothing is going to tear us apart.”

That night, they slept, limbs entwined, on her tiny bed. Fenris had to hold her tight so she wouldn’t fall out, but she was content with that. His back was pressed against the cold wall, but her warmth kept the chill away.

“I love you, Ariana,” he murmured into her golden hair as he kissed the top of her head. “I will never leave your side again.”

***

The following morning, Fenris went about getting breakfast while Ariana fed Milo again. He felt groggy from being woken so many times in the middle of the night, but he couldn’t imagine how exhausted she must be. His heart dropped as he opened the cupboard and saw how empty it was. After doing the mental calculations, he realized she had given him most of her food the previous night. He would have to talk with her about saving the food for herself later. For now, he would keep his mouth shut and be grateful for his sweet lover’s generosity.

He cobbled together a meal and gently refused when she tried to share. He knew she’d need a lot of food to keep her milk supply up, and he was used to being hungry.

Just as she finished the last of the dried meat, a loud knock startled them from their little world.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Ariana gasped, handed Milo to Fenris, and ran to open the door.

Fenris cocked his head and heard a woman’s deep voice on the other side.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Just a minute, Aveline! I’m so sorry. I forgot about you taking me to the clinic today,” Ariana motioned for the woman to enter, and Fenris cradled Milo close. He didn’t know who this stranger was and was ready to keep his son safe.

“It’s quite alright. I know there’s been a lot going on,” the one named Aveline paused when she saw Fenris standing by the kitchen table, holding Milo in his arms. “Hello…I’m not sure we’ve met.”

“Aveline, this is Fenris!” Ariana beamed and went to his side. “He finally made it!”

“I see,” Aveline stated, gauging the elf before her. “I’m delighted to meet you, Fenris, and glad you could make it. Ariana here has talked of little else.”

Ariana’s hand rested on his shoulder, and he felt his anger melting away. He looked to see her loving gaze, and his heart swelled with love. “It was not easy, but I was not going to stop until I made it to Ariana’s side.”

“Will you be walking Ariana to the clinic from now on?” Aveline inquired, tilting her head.

“Only when she wishes it,” he answered. “If, say, on a day like today, she wants to walk with a friend, then I’ll see her in the evening when I pick her up.”

“I’d like to go with you,” Ariana murmured. “I’m sorry, Aveline.”

“Not at all,” Aveline chuckled. “I’ll see you another time then. It was nice meeting you, Fenris.”

***

The mage at the clinic was less friendly than Aveline. When Ariana kissed Fenris goodbye and walked away, he felt the pinpricks of being watched.

“Fenris,” the mage said in a clipped tone.

“The one and only,” Fenris replied, standing taller and straightening his back.

Slowly, the mage’s eyes trailed up Fenris’ body, from his bare feet to his unkempt white hair.

“You’re not what I pictured,” he said as he repressed a scowl.

“And what might that have been?” Fenris spat, folding his arms and feeling his hackles rise.

“I don’t know,” he replied before absently motioning to Fenris. “Just…more, I guess. Ariana talked of you endlessly, so I expected a man more godlike than…you.”

A bolt of rage ran through Fenris, but the mage smirked and returned to his tasks without allowing for a response.

“Ok, I’m usually done by sunset, so could you…Fenris? Is everything ok?” Ariana asked as she approached him and tied an apron around her waist.

“Of course, my love,” he answered, a bit louder than needed. “I’ll be back by sunset.”

“Thank you!” she sighed and embraced him. “I am so happy you’re here.”

He wound his arms around her and caught the eye of the mage, who was now glaring at him.

“Be safe,” Fenris said softly.

“I will,” she promised, standing on her toes to gently kiss his lips.

He resisted the urge to deepen it. To make it a gesture of passion and desire. It would still be weeks before they could couple again, and he didn’t want to tempt himself too much. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers and peered into her blue eyes. After a few moments, he tore himself away; there was somewhere he had to be, and he didn’t want to be late.

***

“You want to do what?” Varric asked incredulously. “Broody, if you need a better place to live, I’ve got connections. Even if you’re an elf, I know places that will look the other way for the right coin.”

Fenris shook his head. “No, thank you, Varric. This is something I really must do.”

“You realize this is tantamount to suicide, right?” Isabela scoffed as she downed the last of her ale. “You’re proposing to steal the manor of a Tevinter slaver and live there like it’s your own.”

A small, dark smile crossed his lips. “I have it on good authority that slaver is dead. She won’t be missing it.”

“Even so,” Varric sighed, wiping his face with his large hand. “How do you expect us to just…take a manor?”

“By any means necessary,” Fenris replied with a casual shrug. “Nothing is more important to me than Ariana and Milo, and what they need most right now is a safe home.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” Varric grumbled. “When do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow night.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent planning, and when the sun descended to the horizon, they had their plan of attack. Fenris hurried off to Darktown, not wanting to be late, and leaving Ariana alone with that mage a moment longer than necessary felt interminable. He made a quick trip to the market first, and when he pushed into the clinic, he had a bag laden with food hanging from his shoulders.

“Anders! I said enough!” Ariana snapped.

“You don’t understand, though,” he rasped as he pursued her around the examination table. “I’ve known men like him. He’s not going to stay. You need a man who isn’t half mad dog!”

“How dare you!” She screamed, and Milo began to wail. “You have no idea what kind of man Fenris is, and you have no right to judge him!”

She feinted to the left, but he was there. He grasped her wrist before pulling her against his chest. “Please, Ariana, see reason.”

“Let. Her. Go.” Fenris snarled as he bore down on the mage.

Ander’s eyes snapped to him, and Fenris momentarily saw a blue-white vapor pouring from them.

“Abomination!” he hissed and began to channel his lyrium brands. If only he had his gauntlets.

Ariana tore from his grip and gathered Milo from his crib and her bag.

“Anders, this is it. I quit,” she said acidly, going to stand at Fenris’ side.

“B-but I didn’t mean…I mean, I wasn’t trying to”

“Enough!” she shoved her hand in his face. “Let’s not embarrass ourselves further and just leave things like this, alright?”

Fenris put a protective hand on her back and guided her into the corridor. She held Milo against her chest, stroked his back, and sang a soft song until he calmed down.

“What happened?” Fenris asked carefully.

She shook her head, and tears welled up in her eyes. “He just went off. We delivered a baby earlier today, and he just…withdrew. As I packed Milo up, he said he’d be a much better father than you.”

Fenris bared his teeth and turned to storm back to the clinic, but Ariana stopped him. “Please, Fenris, let’s just put this behind us. I don’t want any more trouble.”

Fenris came to a halt, and his nostrils flared as he snorted an angry breath. “The only reason that abomination is still alive is because of your generosity, Ariana. I will never pretend otherwise.”

A bolt of unease went through her heart, and she held Milo closer. She was not afraid of Fenris, though. She knew he’d never hurt her. Instead, she worried that he wouldn’t be able to hold back one day and wind up in chains again.

They reached the shack soon after, and as she began to feed Milo, Fenris began to fill the cupboards with food. Her eyes widened as his pack seemed bottomless, and her belly growled when she saw the fresh strawberries he had left on the table.

“Fenris, that’s too much,” she breathed.

“You’re a young mother with a baby that has a healthy appetite. You need food for milk and strength,” he retorted as he made her a plate of food. It was all finger food. He sat next to her on the bed and fed her morsels with a smile on his face.

“I feel a bit silly,” she blushed when she finished a bite of cheese. “I can feed myself.”

His thumb stroked over her pink lips, and his eyes were full of hunger unrelated to food. “I know, but I like taking care of you both.”

Her hand landed on his thigh, and he felt his body respond eagerly. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten what her touch felt like, what her body tasted like, what it felt like to be joined in passion. He barely stifled a groan, but still, her eyes looked down to his lap.

“Oh!” she gasped, and her cheeks went red.

“Sorry,” he groaned, his hand attempting to cover his hard length as best as possible. “It’s hard to control around you, especially after all this time, and knowing we can do it whenever we want.”

“But I-“

“Can’t right now. I know, and that’s alright. I received some sage advice during my time with the Fog Warriors,” he smirked. “I’ll wait as long as I have to, and I know it’ll make it all the sweeter when we finally couple.”

“Just know I’ve missed you too,” she said shyly. “And as soon as we can, I’ll let Auntie Meril watch Milo for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” he smirked, leaning forward and brushing a kiss against the throbbing pulse in her throat. “I applaud your faith in my stamina.”

She shuddered as his lips met hers again, and their tongues entwined.

“Ariana,” he murmured, his voice husky and desirous. “The things I will do to you when we’re able.”

She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. He sat upright and watched her curiously as she put their now milk-comatose son into his crib. Then she came to kneel in between his legs, and his eyes widened.

“W-What are you doing?” he groaned as she unfastened his pants and eased his aching cock from its confines.

“Well, if you can’t have all of me, then I want you to have part of me,” she teased as she gathered beads of precum on her thumb and stroked it down his impressive length.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t mind waiting! I wouldn’t want you to push your-ngh-!”

His sentence was cut off by her taking his cock into her mouth without warning. She braced her hands on his thighs and began to bob and work him down as far as she could. His stomach muscles clenched as he watched her devour his cock, and by the sounds of her moans and sighs, she was loving it.

“Gods, Ariana,” he groaned as a ball of fire settled low in his stomach. She bobbed faster, and he gathered her golden hair up to watch. His other hand stroked her head, neck, back, and anywhere he could touch.

She blinked her watery blue eyes up at him, and this time, when she moaned, he felt it all the way to the root of his cock.

“Venhedis!” he hissed. “Wicked woman!”

She came off him with a delicious pop and smiled at him with puffy lips. “Shhh, you don’t want to wake Milo.”

Then she swallowed him up, his back bowed off the chair, and he muffled his shout. Fortunately, she only tortured him for a few more minutes before she redoubled her efforts. The fire roared higher and became a vortex of pleasure. Soon, he was thrusting, and his legs shook from the impending ecstasy. With her next hard suck, he exploded down her throat and bit his cheek so hard a coppery taste flooded his tongue. She pulled back and licked her lips, looking like the cat who got the canary.

“That was amazing,” he breathed, feeling boneless and sated.

“Thank you,” she giggled. “I’ve imagined quite a bit what we would do when you returned to me.”

Smiling, he pulled her up and into his arms. Reverently, he stroked her hair and took a steady breath. “Thank you for waiting.”

She squeezed him firmly and answered, “I would have waited forever if that’s what it took.”

They spent the rest of the night talking, and when she finally grew tired, he carried her to bed. Laying her down, he felt a welling of love in his heart. Never in his life had he felt so complete, and he had this exceptional woman to thank for it.

Milo stirred in his crib, and Fenris carefully picked him up and held him close. He rocked his son in his arms and hummed a low tune that had been locked away in his memories. Looking out at the crescent moon, he vowed that by tomorrow, they would have a better place to live.

***

The following day, Ariana was restless. By noon, she had cleaned the small space three times, and as she geared up for number four, Fenris grasped her hand that held the broom.

“What troubles you, my love?”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and worried about it as she contemplated her answer. “I just feel rudderless, is all. I've worked at the clinic almost every day since I came to Kirkwall. Without that, I don’t know what to do.”

“You could heal people on your own without Anders,” Fenris offered.

She sighed and shook her head, “I wouldn’t want to poach work from him.”

An annoyed tic feathered his cheek. He didn’t give a damn about the abomination who so brazenly tried to take his place, and any inconvenience Anders faced was a bonus.

“What are you going to do today?” She queried as she changed Milo’s diaper.

Suddenly, he balked. He needed to meet up with Isabela and Varric by nightfall, and with Ariana now at home, he didn’t know how to hide it from her.

“I was going to go…out later…just to walk around.”

Her brow furrowed, and she turned to face him with hands on her hips.

“I’m not oblivious, Fenris. You’re up to something. What is it?”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed. “I think it’s time you met a friend of mine.”

They packed some essentials. Ariana placed Milo in her Dalish sling, and they all headed for the Hanged Man. When they arrived, Ariana’s eyes widened. “Your friend spends time here?”

“He lives here, in fact,” Fenris answered, holding her hand. He hoped Varric would be there and they wouldn’t have to wait for Maker to know how long.

As they stepped inside, Fenris’ eyes scanned the room. To his annoyance, Isabela was at the bar with eyes full of hunger for a man with short black hair. She looked up and flashed him a flirty smile, which he didn’t reciprocate. Her smile grew bigger when her gaze slid to his side and saw Ariana.

She left the man sputtering and confused and walked languidly over to the couple.

“Well, Fenris,” she purred. “It seems like you are one happy family after all.”

“I’m here to see Varric.” his voice was frigid.

“Mmm, he’s in his room but should be out soon.”

“Fenris, did you want to introduce us?” Ariana asked, her eyes flitting between the two. Anxiety gripped her chest at the friendly way Isabela approached him, and briefly, deep in her heart, she wondered if, at one point, he’d been friendly too.

He heaved a beleaguered sigh and motioned between the two. “Ariana, Isabela. Isabela Ariana.”

“Pleasure, dear,” Isabela smirked at Fenris. “When we went to that clinic in Darktown, I thought Fenris would have a heart attack.”

“Oh?” Ariana looked at him and saw the pained expression.

“Yes, I can tell you that he was a husk of a man before we found you.”

Fenris growled.

“Huff and puff all you want, but you hold yourself higher, and you don’t look like you have a stick up your ass anymore…well, no more so than usual.”

Ariana snorted with laughter and slapped a hand over her mouth as she dissolved into giggles.

As Fenris was about to reply, he saw a familiar red-headed dwarf take his usual seat. Varric surveyed the room, and when he caught sight of Fenris, he motioned for the trio to come over.

“Broody, nice to see you,” he said, then turned his attention to Ariana. “And this must be the lovely Ariana, the woman of legend who stole this melancholy elf’s heart.”

“Guilty,” she said demurely. Milo began to fuss, so she adjusted the sling to bring him to her breast. Covertly, she moved her dress and breastband aside for him to start feeding.

“Ariana, I would like you to meet Varric Tethras, the man who singlehandedly kept me sane during my time here in Kirkwall.”

“Varric Tethras!!!” Ariana nearly shouted. “The author of ‘Swords and Shields’?!”

Varric winced and motioned for her to be quiet. “Hush now, if word got out that I wrote those books, I’d lose all credibility here.”

“But they’re wonderful!” she continued to gush. “I’ve got books one through six, and I can’t wait for the next to come out.”

He smiled warmly and leaned forward, “You’re in luck. I just got a copy back from my publisher. I’d be happy to sign and give it to you.”

The joy on her face was palpable, and Fenris couldn’t help but smile. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her temple.

“Is that why you came here?” Varric inquired. “For her to meet her hero?”

“Not quite,” Fenris replied, looking at Ariana’s curious face and down lower to the content newborn in her arms. “I want to tell her about our plans.”

***

“Fenris, you really don’t have to do this,” Ariana pleaded when they had finished divulging their master plan.

They had retired to Varric’s room, where she sat in a chair, holding the brand-new book.

“I do,” he insisted. “Now that I’m back, first and foremost, I need to provide for you both, and the first step in that is to get you out of the Alienage.”

She looked down to the floor and frowned as though deep in thought.

“it’ll be alright,” Varric reassured. “I had a few people scout out the place. Some slavers are squatting there, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Varric’s right,” Isabela piped up. “Give us tonight, and by tomorrow, you and Milo will have a brand-new home.”

“No,” Ariana said with a resolute shake of her head.

“Ariana, I really must insist-“ Fenris began before she cut him off.

“No, I mean, I’m coming with.”

Chapter Text

“What?!” Varric gasped.

“You can’t be serious!” Fenris shouted, standing so quickly his chair clattered to the floor.

“Good for you, dear.” Isabela smiled and raised her empty glass in salute.

Cradling her snoozing baby closer, Ariana leveled a steely gaze at Fenris and felt the backbone she’d slowly been rebuilding harden. “I won’t be left out of this, Fenris. You can glare and demand all you want, but it won’t work on me.”

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “Who will watch after Milo while you’re helping us?”

“Merrill. She loves babysitting, so she’d be delighted to help.”

“But what if…you know…something happened to you?” Varric muttered, reaching up to rub his neck.

“You said it yourself. It’s ‘nothing you can’t han-‘”

“No!” Fenris growled and forcibly turned Ariana’s chair to face him.

Leaning down so they were a breath apart, he caressed her cheek, and his moss-green eyes looked into hers desperately. “Any risk, no matter how small, is too much. I just found you, and I won’t lose you again.”

She sighed through her nose and grasped his wrist. “I can’t watch you go off without me again. I need to be by your side the way you need me safe at home.”

Both lovers frowned, and their eyes sought the other, looking for any crack in the armor, but there was none. Each one was resolute in their stance.

“I’m not that weak woman from Tevinter,” she continued softly. “I’ve grown stronger, and I know I can help.”

Fenris withdrew his hand, and a wave of cold filled her heart. He refused to look at her now, and she saw the painful weight on his shoulders. Slowly, he murmured so quietly she nearly missed it, “I never thought you were weak.”

“Then let me come with!” she pleaded. “I want to be by your side and not stuck at home worried that something else will rob us of our short time together.”

A moment passed, and he didn’t move, then another and another. Then, he finally spoke, “Very well, but please stay safe for all that is holy.”

She hooked his chin with her forefinger and drew his face up. His eyes were brimming with tears that he refused to let fall. Gently, she kissed his lips, and his arms encircled her.

“Well, I think that’s settled then,” Varric said cautiously. “Meet us outside the manor at eight.”

------

Night fell, and the four huddled under a trellis of ivy that had been left to grow unchecked. This manor must have once been a symbol of beauty and luxury, but now the gardens were overgrown, the fountain had run dry, and several of the windows were cracked.

“Are you ready?” Fenris asked Ariana, not for the first time.

“More than ready,” she smiled, testing the weight of her new staff. Fenris had acquired it through Varric’s contacts in Hightown. It was perfectly balanced, and the head was wrought iron spikes that shimmered with ice magic. It already felt like an extension of herself.

“Milo?” he inquired fretfully.

“Passed out in Auntie Merrill’s arms,” she smiled. “He’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. We’re both going to be fine.”

“You’re right. Because I won’t rest until you are,” Fenris vowed.

“If you two lovebirds are done cooing, I’m ready to get on with this,” Isabela griped, her eyes were ever watchful for movement in the shadows.

Fenris growled but motioned for the group to move to the back of the estate, where a root cellar door was located. Varric made quick work of the lock, and they all descended into the darkness.

Once Ariana’s eyes adjusted, she found the world a complete mess. There were remnants of crates and barrels everywhere. Old tubers were on the floor in various stages of rot, a single oak cask was tipped over, and vinegary wine was now sticking her feet to the brickwork.

“Oh gross,” she whispered, prompting Fenris to shoot her a warning look.

They walked in a line to the stairs leading upward. A soft glow and stark shadows moved across the wall above their heads, and they could hear voices as they approached the base of the stairs.

One look made her heart fall. The wooden stairs must have been nearly a hundred years old, and she could already imagine the cacophony they’d make when stepped on.

They all played charades to form a plan, which, much to Fenris’ distraught dismay, concluded with Ariana going up first.

He bared his teeth, motioned to her, then to the stairs, and shook his head, but it was already decided.

Carefully, she sheathed her staff and grabbed onto both handrails. Using her arms to swing and her legs to jump, she cleared the first three steps and managed to hold herself almost aloft. The closer she got to the top, the better she could hear the voices.

“That Ceres knew how to live it up,” a guttural voice said as their lips smacked.

She went up another two stairs, and this time, she barely held her toes on the stair’s edge. It was so rotted that it was nearly cracked in half.

“Too bad none of those slave girls are left,” a raspy voice tittered. “I could do for a nice tight fuck right now.”

“They’re in a better place now,” a third voice hummed. There was only a minute’s pause before the trio erupted in laughter. “I don’t care why that crazy bitch wanted them, but she gives me the creeps.”

Another small hop, and Ariana had to duck her head down to avoid being seen above the landing. She knew she needed to hurry, but there was something about their conversation that she was riveted to.

“What was it?” raspy inquired. “Her scraggly hair, the mad dog eyes, or the fact her patron is-“

“What do we have here?!” A fourth man entered the space, which Ariana had now identified was a kitchen. Her sweaty palms nearly lost their grip, and she panicked that she had been caught.

“You don’t get to hoard the booze for yourselves. Bring the rum and everything else to the front room, now.”

The voice was authoritative, and the people began to move. Bottles clinked together, and several footsteps plodded away. Just as Ariana felt like she could take a breath, a figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

“I think I saw another crate of aggregio parvali in the cellar! I’ll go check!” He was huge. The simple black robes he wore were stretched tight over his barrel chest and he needed to walk at an angle to climb down the stairs. His eyes widened when he saw Ariana, but before he could speak, blood gushed from his mouth.

Ariana jerked in surprise and saw a thick crossbow bolt sticking out of his neck, pinning him to the wall. She blanched when she looked back at Varric, who was loading a new bolt. He had narrowly missed her back. Fenris looked fit to murder as he paced in front of the stairs, looking up at her frequently.

She managed to haul herself up to the landing and got down into a crawl. Slowly, she headed for the mouth of the kitchen. There was a sprawling sitting room with half a dozen couches and chairs, many with a slaver in it already. As she ticked up the count, she felt almost relieved - only seven.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She thought as she returned to the staircase to communicate with her companions.

A low chuckle rumbled behind her as she stepped onto the first stair.

“Looks like we missed one.”

She whirled around and came face to face with a wiry man with a jagged scar down his face and yellowed teeth sticking out of bloated gums.

“Come here, girlie, I’ve got some friends who want to meet you,” he chuckled darkly, and his hand shot out to grab her.

CRACK.

She swung her staff, and the metal end struck his temple, sending him crashing onto the table. He slumped to the ground and judging by the dent in his skull, he would not be getting up again.

The familiar scent of lyrium filled her senses, and she didn’t have to turn around to know Fenris was behind her. How he got up the stairs so quietly, she’d never know.

“That was too close,” he muttered, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

“Fenris, you need to stop worrying about me,” Ariana chided. “I can take care of myself.”

He growled non-committally and kept watch while Varric and Isabela made it up to the kitchen. There was no sign the slavers had been alerted, and by the raucous singing, it appeared the partygoers in the foyer were already deep in their cups.

“Ready?” Isabela inquired, mostly looking at Ariana.

“As I’ll ever be,” Varric sighed as he readied Bianca.

Fenris brandished a huge sword he had acquired, and without fanfare, he ran headlong into the room.

Two were dead before they knew what hit them. Just as the rest of the slavers were getting on their feet, a shot from Bianca felled one. Ariana froze a man to his spot, and Isabela ran up to him with her daggers. Within minutes, all of the slavers were dead, and when the last one dropped, Fenris gave a loud sigh of relief.

“It is done,” he declared. “The house is ours.”

“Not the choice of décor I’d go for,” Isabela quipped as she peered around the gaudy space.

“Ugh,” Ariana wrinkled her nose.

“Not exactly the self-portrait I’d want, but to each their own,” Varric commented.

From floor to sixteen-foot ceiling was a statue of Ceres. She was naked with a useless scrap of fabric swirling around her body. A couch was facing right at it, and all over the floor was…

“Is that…cum?” Isabela’s eyes widened at the large, dried puddle that could only be described as a group effort.

“I’d think if anyone would know here, it’d be you,” Fenris sniped. Now that the threats were gone, he wrapped his arm around Ariana’s waist and wasn’t about to let go.

Isabela shot him a flippant smile and sauntered to him, swaying her hips with each step. On one dainty finger, she produced a ring of keys.

“Sassy talk for a man who needs the keys to the castle. Varric can’t keep coming here to let you in after all.”

Fenris attempted to swipe it from her hands, but she danced out of his reach.

“Thank you, Isabela,” Ariana said sweetly, holding out her hand. “Milo and I will sleep better with these in hand.”

Isabela winked at Fenris, “See? That’s how you get things done.”

He frowned, which prompted her to laugh, “Enough of your witty banter. I think it’s time to celebrate. Hanged man, anyone?”

“No, thanks,” Ariana smiled and nestled back against Fenris’ chest. “I’m going to head home to get Milo now that we’re through.”

“Now remember,” Varric tutted. “This is your home now…once you get rid of the bodies and the garbage.”

Ariana’s face paled, and Fenris kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take care of all of it. Next time you set foot in here, it’ll be worthy of you both.”

Her cheeks reddened, and he drew her up into a tender kiss. When they next looked up, they saw Isabela pulling Varric out the door.

“I love you,” she said softly.

Heaving a sigh, he turned and gathered her in his arms. “I love you, too, Ariana.”

“ARIANA!” A voice screeched from down the walkway. They bolted outside, the crisp night air sweeping dried leaves around their feet.

Before she could motion for the person to be quiet, she recognized Merrill, and seeing her with empty arms, her blood ran cold.

“Merrill! What’s wrong? Where’s Milo?” she demanded, feeling her legs go numb.

Doubling over, gasping, and coughing, Merrill sobbed. “He was taken! They just broke my door down and took him.”

“Who? Tell us now!” Fenris bellowed.

“I don’t know!” she shook her head frantically. “There were ten of them. Men in leather armor. A woman was with them, ordering them to take Milo.”

“What did this woman look like?” Fenris asked, trying now to keep his voice even.

“Dark hair, scary eyes, she was human and talked with a Tevinter accent. The men they called her ‘Riana.’”

Fenris clenched his jaw so hard he felt a tooth chip. His armor creaked as every muscle in his body tensed.

“’ Riana’…could it be they said ‘Hadriana’?”

“Oh! Yes, that’s it! Hadriana, do you know her?”

Ariana screamed, loud and blood-curdling, expressing all of the rage Fenris echoed. Suddenly, she whirled around and pointed her staff at the large statue of Ceres. The veil pulled tight and tore around her like rending silk, and a thunderous boom nearly knocked them all off their feet. A bolt of lightning shot out and struck the statue right in the breasts, exploding it in a hail of stones.

“Maker’s balls,” Varric murmured. “And you were worried about her?”

Fenris met her eyes and saw the anguish beneath the anger.

“No, never again.”

Despite finally receiving the recognition from her lover that she had been waiting for, she couldn’t enjoy it.

Nodding, she lessened the grip on her staff and took a steadying breath.

“Let’s go get our son back.”