"An elf?" Leaning her elbows on the rail of the low balcony, Hadriana looked out across the courtyard. The space below was crowded with slaves and spectators, a makeshift arena for Danarius' contest.

He reclined behind her now, crossing his legs with a laugh. "He is called Leto."

"And it seems he has bested another of your men." As Hadriana watched, one of the figures in the center of the ring fell to his knees, raising his eyes to the other with a wicked sneer. Leto hefted his sword – still seeming much too large for his leanly-muscled form – before tossing it uncaringly aside. It was a boot that he raised to the other man's head, a swift kick sending him sprawling into the dirt.

The crowd roared as the victor raised his arms, but it was another sound that reached Hadriana's ears. The chuckle started deep in the elf's throat, rasping and bitter, swelling to a roar as he turned full circle. Flicking dark and wild hair from his eyes, his gaze met hers. Leto grinned.

"Hm." She hid a start as Danarius appeared beside her. "The trials are nearly complete. Only Asrus remains." He raised his hand, signaling for the field to be reset.

"They will not have a rest between bouts?"

Danarius chuckled. "Asrus is rested. But let us see if this elf is worth the weight of your stares."

He settled back into his chair as the men took their places, but Hadriana remained at the rail. Asrus was even larger than the last challenger, had already bested half of Danarius' slaves that day. This Leto had taken an even share and the two were the only challengers that yet remained. Danarius was not one to waste good slaves – none of the bouts had yet been fatal – but she could not help but feel a flutter in her stomach as the elf charged the much larger man. Pity? She scoffed. It would simply be a pity to be cheated out of such a fine prize.

Shaking her head, she returned to her seat at the magister's side. "Asrus would make a fine bodyguard."

"Leaving the elf to your devices if he falls?"

Hadriana laughed.

"I know well enough of your... proclivities. But whichever man becomes my champion – trust me when I say that he will become a thing that even you would be loathe to touch."

"Is the ritual truly so terrible?"

The magister chuckled to himself. "The pain will be beyond imagining. You will see for yourself. Perhaps then you will count the slave for fortunate, for he will remember nothing of it."

"Truly? Why would they compete for such a thing?"

"Honor? Position?" Danarius shrugged."But even slaves are more practical than that. I have offered a boon." He nodded to the courtyard, watching as Asrus dodged a wide swing. Leto fell to his knees with the desperate force of it, but he regained his feet before the other man could recover his balance. "Your Leto fights for the freedom of his mother and sister. It would truly be a shame to lose the girl, but I begin to see the value in the exchange." His brows drew low, watching the elf with a hunger that shamed Hadriana's own.

Below them Leto darted wide, taking Asrus in the back to the head with the flat of his blade. The larger man staggered, dropping his weapon. But he threw himself forward, putting all his weight behind a wild swing of his meaty fists. Leto was forced to drop into the dirt, losing his own blade as he rolled aside to land flat on his belly. Knees and elbows tensing beneath him, he pounced upward like a cat, scooping up Asrus' own sword to bring it round and press the tip to the man's throat. Both were crouched but Leto unfolded slowly, straightening to look down the length of the steel as Asrus sank to his knees. The moment seemed to hold, the elf's dark brows drawing low. Even after Asrus gave the two-fingered sign of surrender, he held him there a moment more, glorying in the power of it.

"Leto!"

Hadriana did not realize that she was again leaning hard against the rail, gripping the iron with white-knuckled fingers. But Danarius was at her side now, watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Control yourself, woman." Again, he raised his voice to the crowd. "Leto, nai mordoi!"

The elf subsided, tossing the blade into the dirt. But he laughed then, the chuckle again becoming a roar, tossing back his head as the roar became something like a howl. Danarius seemed to take great amusement in this. A wave of his hand and the crowd broke, some to clear away the blood of the day, others to corral the losing slaves. As Hadriana watched, a pair of elven women pushed through the guards, throwing themselves upon the champion. He embraced them almost offhandedly, doing little to soothe their tears. His eyes were fixed still upon the balcony, on Danarius, on her.

But the magister was already making his way inside; she had to lift her skirts and step quickly to reach his side. "Danarius..."

"We perform the ritual tomorrow. He will remember nothing." He kept his eyes ahead, sparing her only the smallest of smirks. "Just do not damage him permanently."

The home of a magister was a fine thing indeed. He had never seen much of it beyond the yards, the slave quarters, but laying now upon his back in this well-apportioned room, Leto had to laugh. It was a cell still, but if he was to be Danarius' personal bodyguard, the man would want him close at hand. Perhaps it had been a trophy room once, tapestries of Tevinter victories, carvings of the hunt worked into the very stone, an impossibly large wolf's head stuffed and mounted above the bed. Folding his arms behind his head, he stared up into the beast's dark, dead eyes.

He had been allowed to follow Varania and his mother as far as the gates. They were ushered out without ceremony as night fell, loaded with what few belongings they had. His mother had been silent, almost unwilling to meet his eyes and Varania had barely been able to speak for her tears.

"Why do you weep? You have your freedom."

She had not answered him, sparing only a fleeting embrace as she shouldered her pack and stepped out into the night. He had wanted to call after them. All that he had fought for – a lifetime of fighting – and they had not offered one word of thanks. They would realize one day, he told himself, they would return to throw themselves at his feet. But here is where he was appreciated, here is where his talents were given their full worth. He had returned to the magister's estate with his head held high.

Now, though, he was left to wait. Danarius had told him little of the ritual, save that it would be performed at first light tomorrow. It was a magic not seen in an age, he would be a warrior without equal, stronger than any that had come before him. Was this impatience, then? An eagerness to jump headlong into a new life when the old one had failed him so bitterly?

Perhaps it was. But it was not this thought that roused him.

The knock at the door was merely perfunctory, the mage letting herself in and pushing it closed behind her. Propping himself up on his elbows, Leto smirked. Hadriana's eyes took this time in reaching his, moving slowly over the length on him, sprawled there beneath the wolf's head.

"It suits you. You will make a fine pet, I think."

"I could say the same to you." He sat forward, but this only brought him in range of her arm, the slap leaving a ringing in his ears.

"Know your place, slave. I am apprenticed to your master."

Leto ran the back of a hand cross his mouth. "You are not yet a magister."

"No, I am not." She sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "And what of you? Do you know what it is that you will become?"

"Nothing that I am not already."

Throwing back her head, she laughed. It was a long moment before she recovered herself, running idle fingers through her hair to smooth it. She had felt him watching her. "Such pride. What did Danarius tell you, I wonder? That you would be a great warrior? A living weapon? And all because you bested a few slaves."

"I did more than that."

"Oh, yes. The noble sacrifice." She leaned close, forcing him to lean back beneath her. "But what did he tell you of the ritual? Of the pain?"

"I am no stranger to pain."

She smirked for the rasp in his voice, for the lingering weight of the words. "This will be unlike any other. Magic and flesh made one, burning and beautiful... exquisite." Running her fingers along his arm, she breathed deep, burying her face against his neck.

Leto opened his mouth to laugh, but it twisted into a choking hiss. The pain laced sudden along his arm, seeming to linger even as he jerked away from her. Smiling down at him, Hadriana waggled her fingers, let him see the sparks crackling there.

"Ah. You see? Perhaps you are not so strong as you think."

"I was... surprised. I do not trust magic."

"And yet you would give yourself over to it, you would serve its masters. Do you know what it is that you defend?" Her fingertips seemed to glow now with a deep red heat, moving to his chest to trace the seams of his jerkin. Hadriana sat her full weight on his hips, rocking with him as he gasped and bucked, the leather crackling and splitting beneath the fire that she trailed along his chest. It opened a deep gash, the skin beneath reddening, but she was not gentle as she slid her hands into the hole and ripped the armor down the middle. Running palms across his now-exposed chest, she smiled to herself as that touch turned cold.

Again Leto jerked, his skin hardening and prickling beneath the ice, but he forced himself to still, pinching shut his eyes to feel the softness of the bed beneath him.

"There." She leaned low, teeth nipping at his ear. "Much better."

"So it is true what they say about you and Danarius' slaves."

It was Hadriana's turn to hiss. But she rocked forward, lifting herself to slide a hand between them, chuckling as it slipped beneath his breeches. She found him there, cupping him entire, squeezing to bring new pain, piercing, burning, electric. Leto screamed.

She did not relent, the sparks arcing and crackling between his legs, the spasms that took him unbidden, impossible. And she held him still, hushing him with whispers across his belly, her tongue lapping at the sweat beading there. Another stroke of her fingers and he was lost entire, his hips arching from the bed as the magic swelled its last.

Hadriana fell with him as he collapsed, burying her laugh against his chest. "I am disappointed."

With a growl Leto lunged forward, twisting to pin her beneath him.

But she only ran her fingers through his dark and fallen hair, brushing it aside with a wondering tilt of her head. "But this is not why you were chosen. They say your prowess lies elsewhere."

The door opened as if at some unspoken command and Leto found himself sitting back in surprise. An elf stood there, his dark features pointed and sneering, his thin form swaying as he stepped into the room and smiled down at his mistress. Vaen, Hadriana's favorite. He was no guard, this one, nor even truly a slave as the rumor told. He had a way of knowing things, a cruel skill in negotiation that was said to rival her own.

Hadriana showed no embarrassment at being found in such a state, pushing Leto off of her with a firm hand to the chest. Rising smoothly to her feet, she straightened her robes, stretching out a hand to allow for Vaen's lingering kiss.

"So this is Danarius' new champion?" He straightened from his bow with an appraising smirk, suddenly making Leto all too aware of his ripped tunic, of the stains on his breeches.

"It is."

"Mm. I am almost sorry that I missed the contest."

Laying an affectionate hand on his arm, Hadriana chuckled. "But that is why I called you here. I would have you see for yourself."

"My mistress is too kind." He moved forward, laughing with her as Leto backed away and stumbled against the bed.

But Hadriana moved round, pulling the remains of the leathers from Leto's shoulders, her hands moving insistently to his breeches even when he tried to pull away. "Come, come. This will not do."

He stiffened, allowing her to undress him without taking his eyes from the other elf. That grin grew wide and crooked, but Leto did not flinch. Hadriana returned to Vaen's side when she had finished, the pair of them taking a moment to study him.

"And what would the mistress wish of me?"

"Ooh." Vaen pursed his lips. "He is eager. Biddable, even."

"I would not bet on it. But do not tremble so, little one. I would merely have you do what it is that you best." She took a step back. "I wish to see you fight."

He blinked. "Fight?"

"I quite enjoyed your performance this afternoon. I wish to see more." She nodded to the other man. "Vaen."

He sneered anew, chuckling with nervous surprise. "Mistress..."

"Your advantage seems hardly fair, Vaen. Disrobe. Now."

His eyes narrowed, turning their hate on Leto. But he complied without a word, letting his robes fall slowly and stiffly. He wore nothing beneath, his body pale and unmuscled. Leto turned his eyes away.

Hadriana lay back on the bed beneath the wolf's head, crossing her legs as she propped herself amongst the pillows. "Begin."

Leto almost had to laugh at suddenly finding himself circling another naked man, but the glare in Vaen's eyes left little room for humor. It was he that lunged first, a clumsy jab that Leto sidestepped with ease. He whirled with the passing, slapping the other man on the back with the flat of his palm. It would sting, surely, but Vaen gasped as if his flesh had been opened. Hadriana chuckled.

Again they circled, this time in the other direction. Leto crouched low, keeping just out of reach as the other man mirrored him. It seemed the lesson had been well learned, for Vaen made no move to attack him now. Leto feinted left, spinning to the right in the final moment but Vaen was quicker than he expected, grabbing him by the elbow and jerking upward. He followed the momentum, leaping clear before the arm could twist, but the loss of balance spun him round, allowing Vaen to land a firm slap on his rump.

This seemed of particular amusement to Hadriana, who clapped her hands together. "Point to Vaen."

"Enough." Leto dug in his heels, lunging low to take the other elf by the throat. He lifted him with ease enough, letting him feel his toes leave the floor before slamming him back down into the tiles. There he leaned over him, saw the gasp struggling to escape beneath wide and panicked eyes. His grip tightened.

"Leto." Hadriana made no move to rise from the bed, her whisper calm but firm. "None doubt you. Let him go."

He complied with a growl, watching the other man come to his feet.

Hadriana leaned forward. "Now. Take him."

"What?"

Slowly she rose, moving toward him on swaying steps. "Your prowess in combat is unmatched. You have a taste for victory; I saw it earlier today. And you expect to be rewarded."

Leto's eyes flitted sideways, regarding the other elf. He did not see Hadriana's hand pull back, balling into a cruel fist. It landed hard against his stomach, sending him falling gasping to his knees.

"But you forget. You are a slave." She jerked his head backward by the hair, her knee taking him beneath the chin. "You fight because you are commanded to. There is no pride. No reward. You will do whatever I command."

He spat, pushing himself up where he had fallen. But again Hadriana's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him to rest his face against her thighs. She petted him, whispering soothing words before stepping back to let him fall.

"Vaen. Take him."

Leto did not register surprise at the thin fingers on his shoulders, digging pinching as they dragged him toward the bed. He could not say if Hadriana helped, but her eyes never left his, leaning beside him as he was deposited facedown on the coverlet. Her touch he recognized before the pain began, Vaen's rending grunt almost lost beneath the crackle of her fingers along his spine. But Leto bit his lip. He would not cry out. Not for her.

"Such pretty flesh. It would almost be a shame to spoil it."

Heat now, and cold. He could no longer tell which spells she wove, whether the skin burned or froze. Color and lightning flickered on the edge of sight, blinding him, but still he did not scream. He barely noticed when Vaen pulled away, sinking back amongst the pillows. Only Hadriana lay beside him, smiling patiently as his eyes opened.

Panting, Leto smirked. "I thought that you... were going to show me pain."

She flew from the bed with a growl, grabbing him by the ankles to drag him to the floor. Standing above him, her fingers worked quick and cutting patterns, jerking upward as he writhed. His back bent, arms spreading wide, his toes curling as the floor disappeared beneath him. No longer did she touch him, but her magics held him still, threatening to crush the breath from him. He could not have screamed for her if he wanted to. And suddenly he wanted nothing more.

Hadriana paced in a slow circle, raising her eyes to his. "Pain you will see. Pain that even I can not bring you. But I promise that the ritual will not bring an end to it, I promise that you will beg, that each day bring more pain than the last."

"I will not beg."

"A promise that you will not remember." She laughed. "Did Danarius not tell you? The family that you gave your life to save? Your pride, even your hate... tomorrow you will remember none of it. You could pass your mother in the street and not know her. Danarius could bid you kill her and you would not flinch."

He struggled, but she only paced closer.

"And they will forget you, too, with time." A wave of her hand brought him slowly back to the earth. He would have collapsed – at last collapsed – but her magics held him still. Hadriana leaned close, whispering as her lips found his. "After tomorrow, you will be only what we make you. And I swear to you, you will beg me to kill you before the end."

Her part in the ritual was simple, her magics merely added to the whole. Most of the magisters stood with bowed heads, studying the elf laid out on the table between them, but Leto's eyes were only for her. It was not until Danarius joined them in the circle that they fell closed, his head tilting back as he steeled himself. When his master named him Fenris – his "little wolf" – she could not help but smile.

So familiar now, those screams. She had drawn them from him again and again to mingle with her own. Together they had watched the sun rise from that wolf's head bed, witnessed the final morning of a small and meaningless life. But those screams had been nothing to these. Hadriana found herself flinching away, but she was unable to take her eyes from the strange and shining patterns spreading across his flesh. She breathed deep of the burning stink, watched the tendrils rise from his scalp, light and pain burning away even the color of his hair.

And still he fought – fought to rise, fought to scream through the fire on the air. She caught Danarius' eye across his writhing form, shared a deep nod with the magister. None of this would matter in the end, but Hadriana meant to enjoy the moment.