Fall (part one)
HE made his way down the dark streets of Hightown, the cold rain soaking him to the skin. He could have stuck to the arches and awnings that dotted the noble district but he chose not to.
He let the rain fall.
For three days now the storm had battered the city of chains. Even the most stubborn of torches in Kirkwall had finally been doused by onslaught. The driving rain hammered down on the black cliffs of Kirkwall. It seemed that nature wished to see Kirkwall washed away into the sea, one moment soaking everything, and the next, merely spattering the cobblestones. One minute it would pour, the next it would drizzle, then it would pour again.
He did not care. He trudged down the street not caring about the weather, what did a little rain matter? It was only a discomfort, and he was no stranger to discomfort and pain. He was trying to make sense of his troubled thoughts, and the pounding of his heart, even as his spiky leather armor grew more uncomfortable by the moment, his silver hair becoming plastered to his head, and the water dripping from his nose and the points of his elven ears. The markings on his skin flared slightly against the deluge. The lyrium offered no protection, merely responding to the swirl of emotions that haunted him this night.
The rain did not matter to Fenris, he simply did not care.
He made his way home, home to the abandoned mansion he had claimed from his former master, his enemy. He returned to the darkness of its shadows, the comfort of the cool loneliness.
Fenris shook his head.
It was better this way, in all his time alone he had never felt so conflicted. He had not been so conflicted since the day he had slain the fog warriors who had protected him so long ago. The day he realized he could no longer be a slave.
Fenris almost laughed at that.
The plain and simple fact was he was still a slave. He was a slave to vengeance and anger. The collar he now wore was around his heart, not his neck. He had killed his master's apprentice, that should have brought him peace, but instead he was still troubled, still bound to what Danarius had taken from him all those years ago.
He shivered, blinking his eyes against the deluge, his arms went to his chest, rubbing it, trying to keep warm as he trudged through the storm, much as he had done on many a cold and lonely night. Back then it had been easy. He had been alone. He had only had himself to answer to, to fight for, with Danarius' hunters always on his heels. He had drawn strength from those storms. If they could not bring him to his knees, Danarius never would. He let those storms swallow him whole, taking comfort in surviving their rages…
Tonight…it brought no comfort.
He had sought out Hawke, trying to find peace of mind, after Hadriana, after seeing all those slaves butchered to give her the strength to face them. He had went to her door and stood in her presence.
Why had he done that?
Had he wanted forgiveness? Absolution? Permission? He could not say for certain. He had crushed Hadriana's wicked heart, and still felt no justice, only hate and emptiness.
Talking with Hawke had always made him feel better in the past, but tonight, she was not free to talk.
Tonight, she was not alone.
The abomination was there, and there were nights he knew, that the man never left.
The mere thought brought a growl to his lips.
Fenris did not trust him, no matter what Hawke thought. He held his tongue because the monster was useful and he did not wish to be cast out from her company. He…he was…
He shook his head.
He had felt drawn to her, from the very moment they had first met in the Alienage almost three years ago. Marian Hawke was everything that he was not. She was strong, happy, and free…
It was that beauty, that strength that held him here. Not the companionship, not the threat of Danarius, not even having a place to call his own.
It was her.
It had always been her.
She had bound him to her with the fewest of words, all she had to do was ask and he would have been hers, without fear and without resistance.
It seemed he was still a slave, he had just traded one set of painful chains for another, and yet she did not see him as hers.
She never had.
She had chosen the abomination. She had taken Anders into her life and into her bed, and now here he was…lost to his chains again, bound in ways that were more painful than any punishment Danarius could have devised. He could still see her standing there, in the foyer of her estate, he could still see her face, that pale creamy skin, those blue sparkling eyes, the way the light played off her raven black hair.
We are friends, Fenris, she had said, her voice thick with concern, perhaps even pity.
It was the one thing he did not want from her, what he had never wanted.
Pity was not something he desired.
Friends?
He had turned away then, not wanting her to see him like this.
They were friends…
I don't think I know what that means, he had said.
He had fled out into the storm. He let the rain drench him, hoping it would wash away the anger and confusion. Hoping that it would cleanse him of this desire to have the one thing he never could.
He let the rain fall.
It did not help.
He turned down the side street that led to the mansion, his mansion. Three years had passed and still Danarius had not come to try and take it from him, no one had tried to take it from him. He sometimes wondered what his former master was waiting for. He was not going to run this time. He had grown weary of it.
He would turn and face the tiger. Either he would fall, or his master would.
None of his noble neighbors bothered him; if they cared about the elf squatting in the old place they made no complaints to the guard or anyone else in power. He kept to himself, and they minded their own business, of course, his involvement with Hawke didn't hurt.
He set his mouth into a grim line.
He would likely spend the rest of the evening with a bottle of Aggregio, he might even pull out the book that Hawke had given him, practice his reading…
Fenris shook his head.
Even now he found himself unable to stop thinking about her. Her reading lessons were a kind gift, one he was grateful for, more than she could know. He…enjoyed their afternoons together, sitting on her small couch as he tried to conquer whatever book she placed in front of him. It had been a tough battle at first, but slowly the world of the written page was finally opening up to him. He…
He paused…as still as a statue.
He had arrived at the estate and knew immediately that he was not alone.
His markings tingled ever so slightly; he could almost taste the magic in the air, magic that should not have been here. Everything seemed in order, but Danarius had taught his little wolf long ago to sense when a mage came calling, especially when they used their powers to force their way into a place they were not wanted.
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
The rain paused, it became a drizzle, but he was now more than soaked. He felt cold and uncomfortable, but more than that, he felt the flicker of hate in his breast.
He could not harm Anders. Hawke would never have allowed it, but whoever this was…this hunter.
A feral gleam came to his eyes.
He could harm this fool…and feel not a whit of shame for doing so.
He drew his great sword as thunder rumbled overhead. His elven ears twitched with excitement, lowering in anticipation of blood and the kill to come.
He would savor this violence; drown himself in the blood of an enemy.
Maybe that would give him peace.
He pushed the door open, blade at the ready, he was greeted by the shadowed filled vestibule, and in the room where he slept several candles were burning, candles that had not been lit before he left.
"I know you are there, hunter," he spat, his voice think with venom, "Come out and face me…if you dare!"
A single figure appeared from his room, his markings flared, he drew strength from the lyrium preparing for battle.
It was then that it his uninvited guest spoke, and the night changed completely.
"He…hello F…Fenris."
It was a voice he had not heard in almost three years, and never expected to hear again. It was not harsh or cruel, into was soft like silk, warm like honey, but also tinged with fear and sadness.
Fenris powered down, his markings faded back into his skin.
He stepped forward, no longer looking for a fight. She was armed, he could see the staff strapped to her back, but she made no attempt to draw it. She knew what would happen if she tried to attack him, not that she ever would.
She was one of the few mages that he could say that about.
He looked at her face, it had barely changed in the last few years, a small mark on her chin, her raven black hair had grown longer too, almost down past her shoulders. The only difference he could see was her eyes. They were cold and flinty; the shy innocence he remembered was long gone from those eyes. The girl had barely aged, but her eyes reflected the weight of many years.
"I…I let myself in, I'm sorry," she murmured, "I…wa…was t…trying to get out of the r…r…rain."
He could hear her teeth chattering, she wore no cloak, only a blue and silver gambeson with leather leggings. Knee high leather boots and elbow length gloves completed her look. Water dripped from her face and nose. The sigil of the white griffon that graced her shoulder looked gray from it's time in the rain.
Fenris frowned.
Perhaps not entirely gray, he could see the blood stains, some black some dark maroon, but that did not surprise him.
Being a Grey Warden was not safe or gentle work.
He sheathed his blade, and gave her a disapproving look.
His eyes narrowed.
"Bethany," he growled.
"Ye…Yes?" she answered.
"What are you doing here?"
She gave him a wan smile.
"I…I had n…nowhere else t…to go."
"What about your family?"
For a brief moment anger flashed in her honey brown eyes.
Fenris paused; it seemed she was unwilling to answer, at least right now.
Not that he blamed her.
He shook his head, she looked worse than he did by far. How long had she been out in the storm? Why had she not made for her family?
Good questions all, but he would not likely get the answers he sought standing in this vestibule dripping all over the place.
Fenris sighed.
"You're going to catch your death like that," he said.
She shrugged dismissively, something in her eyes said that catching her death was not such a bad thing.
His ears twitched with curiosity, but knew that there would be a better time for questions.
He motioned for her to follow.
"Come with me."
She nodded and fell in step behind him. He listened to her footfalls, the soft tread of a seasoned hunter. Not like the steps of the girl he remembered at all. She was a predator now, only two breaths away from going on the prowl.
He felt his old battle senses stirring, but quickly willed them to be calm.
He had nothing to fear from Hawke's little sister. She might have been a mage but she was not his enemy. She had even tried to help him once, offering him her advice on how best to catch her sister's eye.
It had not worked out in the end. Perhaps Hawke blamed him for not protecting Bethany better in the deep roads? Perhaps she blamed him for Bethany getting sick?
If she did, that would likely explain why she had chosen to bed the abomination. He had given her sister a chance at life while Fenris had failed to keep her from the reach of death.
He had failed Hawke.
He had failed Bethany.
Yet now, Bethany had shown up here, in his home.
Her words haunted him.
I have nowhere else to go.
Why would she thing that?
Her family was just down the street.
There would be time to ask her about it soon, once they were both dry.
Outside the thunder rumbled, and the roar of water hit the roof, the deluge resumed. Once again nature did its best to wash Kirkwall away.
And here they were a Grey Warden and an escaped slave.
Alone.
Together.
Outside the rain continued to fall.
A storm raged outside.
While the storm raged within.
…And the rain continued to fall, separating two lost souls from the rest of the world.
Two souls broken by pain and anger….
Two souls…ready to fall.
A/N: This one has been in my head for a while now. It is not going to be a long story, but it might go mature before it is done so I decided to make it a stand-alone, three or five chapters at most. If you want to hear the rest shoot me a review. You know I always like them.
DG