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Wavering Resolve

The further south they traveled, the more the heat tapered off but seemed to dog their footsteps within the next hour. Despite the soupy air slowing their pace to a snail's crawl, they didn't dare make camp for the following three, long days. Finally, drawing near the Dales, Bethany's complaints grew insufferable.

The share of luggage she towed dragged along the ground behind her and the fabric finally caught on a sharp rock and spilled the contents all over the forest floor.

Outraged, hot, tired, and slightly delirious from lack of sleep, Elesee took a long look at the ground.

"I'm tired." Bethany threw out the excuse before her older sister could say anything, her voice tight and defensive. She took a step backwards at the seething glare shot her way.

"Didn't I tell you the bag would rip, Bethany? Now you've ruined a whole week of rations. Ruined!" The rogue hurled one of the fruits into the trunk of a mossy tree where it exploded on impact, sending juices flying in all directions.

"It's just a little dirt," the mage muttered too softly for her sister to hear.

"And you're the one who has gotten sleep while we stood guard. I'm just as tired as you, if not more so. You're not the one who was nearly killed twice in the past two weeks, once by her own sister."

The anger immediately recoiled at the flare of shame upon the words registering on Bethany's shocked face. Elesee made a sputtering attempt to apologize but the words had already hardened her sister's face.

"I already apologized and you said it was fine!"

Fenris stood behind Elesee, his arms folded across his plated chest. The metal was scorching against the tender flesh of his inner arm, but he ignored the pain to make his point clear. "Oh yes, let's just excuse your temper tantrum just because you're a mage and didn't mean to hurt anyone with your magic. Is that it?"

Elesee's face was animated when she turned to Fenris. "It has nothing to do with that Fenris! It's that she is being selfish—"

"As are all magi."

"Sometimes people cannot look past a harmless assassination attempt," Zevran said loudly to Bethany.

Elesee's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her face turning an unhealthy shade of purple as she looked between the three. She finally tossed her arms in the air and spewed out a long string of curses before stomping along the hillside towards a small nest of trees.

"Where are you going?" Bethany trilled.

"To get away from you and hunt up some damned food!"

The mage clapped her hands together and threw the empty knapsack against a pillow rock. "Yay! We get to make camp. I'll get the fire going!"

Fenris shot her an angry glare when flames streaked out of her fingertips. "It's already too hot out here and you want to make a fire? Are you asking for the Templars to find us?" He muttered a 'stupid girl' as he gathered the supplies for a tent from the bags.

"What is your problem with mages, my friend?" Zevran inquired innocently while watching the fellow elf work.

Elesee rolled her eyes as she could only imagine what Fenris's reply would be before the sounds clipped off with her long strides away.

Annoyance still zinged through her blood, hot and peppery. Her hands shook when she scaled a tree. Normally she would use her tracking skills to hunt down the prey but the anger was making her footfalls heavy and loud. The wildlife was sure to be scared away by a pissed off rogue flailing daggers angrily around without much precision.

Soon they would be in wild territory—Flemeth's territory—and she would have to kill the old witch as part of her oath. It begged the question of: how was she going to kill an immortal creature?

She sighed and dug her heels into the bark. What did her father used to tell Bethany when negative emotions were tainting her mood?

Elesee closed her eyes in concentration, willing her father's words to surface.

'When you start to feel the darkness bring you in, stop everything—everything—find that little shining light in your memories to bring you home again. Whatever brings you the most peace and calm…'

So… calm. That would be easy enough, right?

With her eyes open a slit she gazed heavenward to the swirl of cottony clouds bleeding out into the night and her mind wandered.

x

She was somewhere else. Somewhere cool and climate-controlled, as was most everything else in this place: a stale tepid that had her teeth set. Ferelden was either boiling hot or glacial in temperature, unlike this walled off city carved into the cliffs of the Waking Sea. Something about this stale, recycled air was starting to get to her.

"You don't look well, messere," Orana noted as she cinched the leather band through the last loophole in Elesee's corset. "Is there anything else I can get you today?"

Elesee raised a dismissive hand in a sweeping gesture. Most days her manners would dictate more civility towards her manservant, but the rigidity of the boned corset and the duties that were keeping her jailed, she felt her etiquette slipping.

"Master Fenris is waiting—"

"What have I told you about calling me that, Orana? I am nobody's master nor are you anyone's slave." Though he had cut the girl off his tone was not unkindly.

To make sure she was presentable, more for her lover than anyone else, she checked herself once more in the mirror before looking in his direction. He carried a large basket and was busy rummaging through its contents. The tendrils of white hair swept over his forehead, masking the weary look she knew was etched into his features. Or perhaps it was her sense of fatigue that had translated onto his face.

Orana made a grand, sweeping bow towards him on her way to the door. "I am very sorry, messere. I will try to do better next time."

"Will you do something for me Orana?" Fenris inquired.

"Yes." The response was immediate.

"You did not even stop to ask what the favor was."

Elesee found herself holding back a grin as the conversation had the same flavor as one they had held long, long ago. The smile faded into a sigh as she realized how long she had been stuck here in this home away from home.

Refocusing on the conversation, Fenris had one gloved hand extended towards Orana. Her eyes were wide at whatever Fenris had just said. She nodded and took the item in his hand and strode out of the room without another word.

"What did you just say to her?"

"I did not speak loud enough for you to hear. But—I'm surprised—usually you hear these things anyway."

"You know how I am, Fenris. Sometimes I don't even listen to myself as I'm off somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away from this city and all its needy inhabitants."

His green eyes darkened and intensified the luminous stare. She knew he worried after her state as of late… Really, since the Chantry and Orsino, Meredith, no word of or from Bethany…

"I know, before you even say it. Please don't worry. I'm just—I am just pressured right now. I have so many duties I don't even have time to be standing here talking to you."

"Yes you do," he insisted, drawing closer to her. He settled the basket on the ground beside them as he stood with his breastplate rested against the thick corseted front of her dress. She tried to look away from his all-seeing stare but found herself immediately drawn right back into the haunting gaze.

"I really don't. I have a meeting with the—"

"Shh." His finger silenced any other words she may have uttered. He placed the gentle underside of his gloves against her cheek to draw her face back to his. His mouth was so soft against hers, the slightest brushing of skin against skin. Just enough to tickle. To draw a small fire through the stone that had filled her veins.

"I'm suffocating, Fenris."

For a moment she had thought the words but his responding nod revealed her having spoken the sentiment aloud.

"I know."

Elesee drew away from the sweetness in his voice, turned her back to him. She did not want him to see the terror that had filled her from the inside out. How afraid she was.

"The Divine is supposed to be here within the week. Rumor has it that she has plans on making me helm the war against the mages. And now, with the threats of Tevinter's wrath, I just—don't know. I don't want to deal with them or with the blighted Templars. Seekers have been petitioning to be let into Kirkwall for weeks now. I can't deal with this, on top of the situation with the Circle… and Bethany."

"I know."

His breath was cool on her neck, his hands steady on her shoulders as he simply held her. One arm snaked around her middle as he rested his defined chin on the base of her neck. She allowed herself to simply exist there beside him, a dust mote floating in the light of the sun.

Then, as every day since the city had enlisted Hawke as the Viscount, he suggested, "We could always leave." As he spoke he brushed his sculpted cheekbones along her neck. Some of the troubles of the day eked away with these tender touches.

"I've heard Orlais has great weather this time of year," Elesee joked, her hand only a half gesture in the direction of the dim gray rain pounding outside the window.

"Let's do it, Hawke. Go far away where these troubles will not ever touch us again."

"Fenris, I can't just—"

"You are as I was once. A slave kept in a crystalline kingdom. Eventually the glass shatters, Elesee, and you become something you were never meant to be: broken, a shell of your former self. I will not stand by idly and watch you break. Even if it is a slow process. I love you too much to see that happen."

He had never uttered the words, at least, not out loud. It was then that they began their plan to escape Kirkwall and the impending war with hopes of a better tomorrow.

x

And there it was.

The spark of light that had kept her spirit alive and strong. Having found the sense of joy and peace once more, Elesee opened her eyes to a bruised sky and found that her strength had renewed, her wavering spirit reinforced, and her resolve intact.

x

The remaining three had already assembled the makeshift camp in the hour Elesee had been gone.

Though sleep was a siren begging him to enter its singsong embrace, Fenris fought the ache with every intention upon staying away until he was sure Elesee had returned safely from her hunting expedition. This journey had far too many close calls for his liking.

His restlessness must have been a living thing as Bethany emerged from her tent to join him at the fireside. He would not admit his being glad Hawke's younger sister had the foresight to strike up the fire, but the temperatures had dipped severely low as the heat of the day had been leeched away by the night and he wriggled his calloused toes and let the fire work its warmth against the chill.

"This night is most beautiful," Zevran commented as he emerged from his tent.

"Oh, Maker!" Bethany gasped. "Zevran, put some clothes on!"

Fenris had already swung his head in the direction of the oncoming assassin, not trusting the man to his backside. The sight that greeted him was burned into his eyelids even after he immediately shut them: a Zevran completely exposed, save a pair of very scant braies.

Zevran took his time in slinking into the barren spot beside Bethany (he could only hear the fellow elf moving around, he took no measure of time to actually peer at the man's whereabouts any longer.) Having avoided the scene altogether, Fenris was unaware of Zevran's unnecessary show of flexing his muscles and shaking out invisible knots in his sheen of frothy blond hair.

Making sure to keep his eyes fixed to a point where he could not even see the slightest hint of a bare leg, Fenris scooted uncomfortably against the exposed dirt to where some of the luggage had been stowed. He withdrew a sharpening stone and a polish cloth.

"Ah, that is much better. Thank you for allowing me to sit here, mea bella. This reminds me of a different camp sitting around a different fire."

Fenris began to inspect and sharpen the Blade of Mercy's dulled points. His emerald eyes flashed dangerously when his eyes—unthinking—flicked to the Antivan's face. The look was noticed and returned, a challenge for a challenge. Hackles rose along the former slave's neck but a sadistic smile had crossed his features. In this light, the sparks zinged in a dazzling display from the metal meeting the stone.

Compared to muscles, this made a much better threatening exhibit.

But it was then that Fenris remembered the assassin's nakedness. Before the man could even allow the thought of trying to fight him with such little clothing, the warrior bested his pride and lowered his eyes.

Bethany sounded unsure when she said, "I just hope Elesee isn't still irritated with me when she returns."

It took Zevran a minute to respond, perhaps to be sure that the submission was genuine. "Do you want advice, bella? Before you get hurt, you must leave."

Incredulous, the mage demanded, "Why should I leave?"

"Because, in some time, the truth will come out. Your sister—she does not trust you. Nor will she ever. She will always believe you are going to kill her. Until, one day, she will be—what is it?—confused? No, consumed. She will be consumed with the thought."

Wanting to interlude, to tell the assassin he had best keep his opinions of Elesee to himself, Fenris threw down the grinding stone. He thought better of eyeing the half-naked man again and picked up the polishing cloth while, very quietly, grumbling to himself.

Bethany lowered her voice. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"Perhaps."

The soft smack of two delicate hands clapping together excitedly. "Ah, so the rumors are true! Zevran… you truly were at the side of the Warden? Is she as beautiful as they say she is? As daring? Did she really rip the heart out of the Archdemon and eat it?"

The assassin chuckled but there was no other response.

"You have all these stories and won't tell me the juiciest of them all? Why did you leave the Warden's side?"

Fenris shook his head. He could see the answer practically spelled out in front of Bethany's face. The girl, though having changed from Kirkwall, had still the aptitude of a child when it came to social interactions. Though he supposed he could claim no better.

"Oh, Zevran. No! You didn't! You tried to kill Nara? You tried to kill the Grey Warden!" Bethany's voice rose in tempo and pitch until it reached a shrill resonance that reverberated through his skull. "And you fell in love with her! Don't even try to tell me you didn't, I can see it right there on your face. The same puppy eyes Fenris gets around my sister. It's so romantic!

"Did she know? Is that why you couldn't kill her?"

"Well… She is very skilled." The Antivan was slow to answer, his voice stripped to an emotion Fenris had never would have placed on the man, given his personality. "I would say the plan to kill her was there…"

"Bah!" Zevran shouted and made Fenris jump and nearly slice his hand in half. The sword clanged to the ground and the elf shot a glare in the Antivan's direction, not that he would have noticed. "I am done speaking of this. Anyway, what about that one and your sister? What is the story there?"

This time Fenris did look up and meet Bethany's chocolatey-orange eyes dead on, clashing with the embers of fire reflected in his incandescent glower. "I'd prefer you didn't."

A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. Any chance the mage had at torturing him. Fenris hung his head, seething as the two continued the conversation despite his dispute.

"If this one is as… talented as he tries to claim—"

The former slave interjected hotly, "I never said—"

"—then why can't he defend his woman? She did mention earlier that she has nearly died twice in a short time. Is this correct?"

Fenris stood, his fists balled. Naked or no, he would kill this Antivan, even if it meant soiling his hands to do so. "This conversation is over."

Zevran appeared completely lax, not moving a single hairsbreadth, unthreatened by the elf's threat. The silvery eyes were on Fenris's face, challenging as he practically purred, "I also have made notice that he does not romance her. How has she fallen in love with this Brood King, dear Bethany? Does she not need someone a little more… cheery?"

Completely oblivious to the shaking warrior on her left, or the completely snide assassin to her right and the insurmountable rise in testosterone, Bethany recited, "Once my sister makes up her mind about something, it would take an act of the Maker to change her mind. My sister… she's very maternal, though she would never admit to it. She sees someone hurting, she makes them feel better. She sees someone wronged, she will be the hand of their vengeance. She sees someone dying, she will fight the Maker to keep their soul in place.

"So when she saw how Fenris was all alone in this world, she probably wanted nothing more than to be his friend. Elesee tends to see beyond the surface of what people want seen, all the armor and bullshit. Fenris had a lot of armor but she saw right into his sweet little puppy heart and, being a rogue, knew the exact right points in the armor that are weak and she exploits them. So it was easy for her to swing right in past all the blockades Fenris had in place and go right for the kill.

"Anyway! She is very patient so it was only a matter of time before: BOOM! But then Fenris left and there was this mage, Anders, and he was in love with her, too. She had entertained the notion at first of being with him but he was really crazy and—"

Fenris couldn't take anymore. "Enough! The past is the past. Let's keep it there."

Now the assassin drew his body up into a half-squat, bunching the muscles in his legs as if he were ready to spring. "So says the man who cannot relieve his own past."

"And you aren't?" Fenris shot back, his stance braced to take any impact of the elf's body impacting his own. "You claim to be all-knowing in the ways of romancing a woman, but look where you are now. Running from yours.

"Tell me," the warrior snarled, eyes blazing, "did Nara know how you felt before you left?"

"Did Elesee know before you left?"

The string of tension drawn to a thread, it finally snapped at that and Fenris had lunged for the Antivan before something very heavy thnked into the side of his skull. Stars swam in and out of his field of vision before he shook the fog away and righted his stumble. The rock that had been flung at his head still tumbled a little down a slope after having sailed off his skull.

"Fenris, what are you two doing? Didn't I tell you earlier we're not killing our guests?" Emerging from the shadows, Elesee flopped down a string of hares tied by their ankles. Her eyes were critical on Fenris's face and he felt shame for behaving as he had and—blight on everything!—letting the Antivan get to him once more. When would he learn? Her eyes went white-rimmed at noticing Zevran's lack of wardrobe. "For the love of Andraste, put some clothes on, Man!"

Unable to stand it any longer, Fenris placed a hand over Elesee's wrist. Such idle touches were becoming more familiar to him, but always he had the sense of dread in the back of his mind something terrible would happen if he touched her the wrong way. He swallowed down the fears rising to the surface and murmured, "We need to talk. Alone."

A hint of trepidation in her voice, Elesee said softly, "All right, Fenris. Let's get in the tent." To her sister she called, "Bethany, can you skin those rabbits up and make a stew? Don't even start to make a face. You were the one that ruined the food in the first place."

He followed her into the tent, knowing he would have to bear his mind once and for all.