Chapter Text
Fenris didn’t know where he was going to stop now. He wanted to go as far south as possible, as far from Seheron and Minrathous and Denarius as possible, but with news of the Blight reaching him… No, he could not risk it. No matter how well it might deter his master from coming after him. Potentially, he could become a Warden, but… No, the Joining… He would be a Warden for life or likely die. He wanted to lie his own life, and that was not going to happen with the Wardens. What he needed was a big city where he could at least have a chance of getting lost in the crowd that was far south, but out of the Blight’s reach.
The elf asked around for a map, and eventually set his eyes on one. Kirkwall… Full of refugees, or so the rumors said. The City of Chains wasn’t exactly appealing, but… It was something. Worst comes to worst, he can just… Break into Danarius’ mansion and wait for his master to come for him, and kill him there. Or he could join the city Guard, or do mercenary work and just get a place in lowtown. There were possibilities, and a lot of people to hide among. It was settled, he’d head for Kirkwall and see how well it went. He wouldn’t stay if he was recognised or he couldn’t find enough work to sustain himself, or he stuck out too much in the masses.
So he bought his supplies and set out, aiming for the mountains he could see on the horizon. His feet were somewhat unsteady still- several days on a ship could do that when one was used to being on land. It didn’t take too long for him to get his bearings, though, and day by day the peaks grew closer, and eventually he was navigating the foothills around them. South- go south and don’t look back. Look forward and think about how he’s going to survive on his own. He was free now- or at least as close to free as he could get without… He shook his head and growled at himself under his breath. He couldn’t afford to dwell on that right now. How was he going to settle, and yet also not, in Kirkwall? The city was overcrowded as it was, there was not room for him where he would likely be able to afford it. He’d have to replace his armor- it made him too noticeable but… That was expensive, and he liked this armor. The Fog Warrior had given him this armor. He could at least afford them the respect and honor of keeping it. He owed them at least that much for turning on the the moment his master said playtime was over.
He could also repay them by being free and staying that way. And he would. He had to. He would not go back to that life, he was a person now, not property, a bodyguard, a weapon to conduct his master’s whims. Not a prize or a pet or a trophy to be ogled at. No more.
That was what he thought when he reached Kirkwall, anyway. As he built a small, tight network to help him hide, doing mercenary work and sleeping in a new place on the ground, wrapped up in a cloak practically hugging his greatsword and using his folded belt as a pillow for all the pouches it had. He did not have a lot, and he could not find a place to pay for, for he could surely outpay just about anyone living in the slums with the pay he got from just about working himself raw day by day, but he hadn’t the heart for it at all. He could not evict a family of their meager belongings and security for his own comfort- the cobblestones and stench weren’t any worse than lying in Danarius’ lavish bed after their evenings .
And then Anso gives him grim news. Narby his usual alcove in the alienage, slavers had set up a den in one of the houses, capturing the small family living there and having already shipped them off to Tevinter. Apparently, they’d been sent after him. Danarius knew he was here, and there were men in his mansion too- possibly even the magister himself, or his apprentice. Terror and anger rose from the bottom of Fenris’ gut and into his throat and he was certain for a moment that he would be sick. The dwarf explained he had a plan- part of one, at least- and that they may be able to find out where Danarius was and how much he knew if they could get into the Slaver’s den and get their hands on the orders they were addressed. But they’d need help, and Anso didn’t know who to go to. There were rumors of someone named Hawke, someone who’d worked with Meeran- someone they both knew and… Conducted business with from time to time.
This Hawke character had recently left his employ, but he would easily be able to get a hold of them and send them their way. Before that, though, Fenris didn’t want a complete stranger powerful enough to fell or subterfuge a slaver’s den knowing his personal life. Not when they could turn on him at any time. He would reveal himself from where he would watch from atop one of the hovels if the need or want arose. If they proved to be trustworthy, he may add them to his network.
So Anso played the jumpy, clumsy merchant- not that that was terribly far off from his character- and convinced them, as well as the three others with them, to help him “get his merchandise back for a pretty penny”.Fenris followed them to the Alienage along the line of rooftops and watched and waited as they went inside. Hawke, as it turned out, was a man. Tall and broad with a mouth to run from what the elf had seen of his conversation with Anso.
Slavers flanked the door, coming from the rest of Lowtown, and Fenris saw from his perch as more gathered as backup and even a large team separate from the main force by the door to… Capture him. Or, who was supposed to be him right now. Fenris was suddenly more than glad to have someone else be in there right now. He could take care of the large team just around the bend if he was careful. He was also somewhat relieved Hawke had three other people with him, because this was… A lot of slavers, and Fenris would rather a stranger not die of be enslaved while unknowingly doing his dirty work.
Well, at least he could help. As soon as the leader of the second large group left to check on the scene Hawke was now making just outside the hovel, he descended on his men, and took a certain amount of his raging emotions out on the last one, sending him bleeding and staggering to tell his master things had gone utterly wrong. Fenris had decided while his hand was somewhere in the tenth unfortunate soul’s chest that he would, indeed, reveal himself and what he needed help doing. He needed to get into Danarius’ hightown mansion and confront whoever was there, provided whatever documents he found with the hired help or the slaver captain confirmed what he and Anso both suspected here.
Impressions, he had to make an impression, he thought as he approached the corner where his latest victim was collapsing in a pool of his own wretched blood. He… Was good with impressions, he’d been told by many. Especially if it involved some level of intimidation and making it very clear that he was not some meat-headed grunt.
“Your men are dead and your trap has failed,” he said easily as he stepped over the still-wheezing body on the ground and stepped leisurely down the stairs to stand between Hawke and the slaver captain. He allowed his enemy a final word- a poor choice of “what”- and lit up like a lantern, removing his heart from his chest with practiced ease and detachment. He then turned to Hawke and his companions, relaxing somewhat when he saw wariness, but not outright fear or the gross interest that people back in Tevinter had always shown. Curiosity, but not… that .
“My name is Fenris, if I had known Anso would find someone so… capable, I would have introduced myself sooner and… Taken a more active roll,” he introduced himself. This was the part he was not as good at. The talking, being social. He was definitely not a people person.
“My name is Hawke,” the man Anso had hired for him said with a wary, though friendly smile. “And you must be the… Clearly not a slave since… Yeah… That they were looking for… Yeah. Sorry, I’m usually better at this but you kinda just… Ripped a man’s beating heart clean out of his chest. Wow.”
Fenris snorted, what a turn of events. Hawke with all his smooth words with Anso was being more awkward than Fenris , “that does… happen quite a lot, unfortunately.” He knelt down and pilfered the man’s orders from his pockets and flipped through them as he turned back to Hawke- he could not read, but these strangers did not need to know that. He would take them to Anso. “What did you find in the house?”
Hawke frowned and shook his head, “nothing, and we’re not terribly fond of being tricked.”
“My apologies. I sincerely thought there would be something there- otherwise I would not have… put others in danger,” he sighed heavily and turned away, tucking the papers in his belt pouches.
“What did you expect to be in there?” Hawke asked further, and it touched a nerve in the back of Fenris’ mind.
“It does not matter, it wasn’t there,” he said a bit more stern than he would have liked to for what he wanted to say next. “I… would ask for you further assistance. My master may be in his estate in Hightown, and I would not go to confront him there alone.”
“He tricks us and then asks for more help? Against a magister, I’m assuming?” one of Hawke’s companions, tall and blond and raggedy looking, “Hawke, I don’t know about you or the others, but this doesn’t look very good to me at all.”
Hawke studied Fenris, who tried his best to look earnest. He needed this help, he needed to be free and this man seemed trustworthy with the task. He could not afford to waste time looking for someone else to help. The taller man seemed to see something that decided for him, because he smiled an open and friendly smile, like they had known one another for months, and nodded, “we can help. Just have the when and where sent to…” he rooted around his person and used his leg to write down an address, pressing the scrap of parchment into the elf’s hand, “here. I’ll be sure to be there with help.”
“Hawke,” the blond man from before started, “he could betray us- this could be a trap.”
The scruffy man with his faded Ferelden accent shook his head, “that has yet to be seen, Anders. You don’t have to come along.”
That seemed to shut the man who reeked of Darktown up, and Fenris cleared his throat, “I’ll have the information sent to you as soon as possible. Thank you, Hawke.”
They parted ways, and Fenris made good on his word- now he could only hope this Hawke character would make good on his in return.