In the meantime, Fenris' sister, Varania, was coming to Kirkwall.
Fenris and Aveline broke the news to Abigail.
“Your sister's coming?” Abigail said in surprise. “You found her?”
“I'm still not so sure we did find her,” Aveline said, her tone dark. She and Fenris exchanged a look. “But there is at least someone who says that she is her.”
“I cannot have this hanging over my head,” Fenris said. “I must confront her—or the trap she has set.”
“She seems to have come alone,” Aveline folded her arms. “Or at least, an elf matching a description disembarked from the ship Fenris named.”
“I need to know if it's a trap,” Fenris growled. “But we have no more information.”
“How did you find her?” Abigail asked.
“It took some doing,” Aveline said. “Hadriana didn't exactly leave us with much to go on.”
“We managed,” Fenris said. “She was in Qarinus—or at least, someone who claims to be my sister was.”
He paced back and forth. His hands were free of gauntlets (over the years he had forgone his habit of wearing armor everywhere), and he shoved his fingers into his mouth, biting down viciously on his fingernails.
“Stop that,” Aveline muttered. “You'll hurt your hands.”
Fenris glared at her but stopped biting his fingernails.
“Where are you going to meet her?' abigail asked.
“I named the Hanged Man,” Fenris said. “Varric will be there, and I told Isabela to be there also—I don't want to get caught in a trap with no backup.”
“Should we ask Merrill or Anders?” Abigail asked.
Fenris shook his head. “No mages,” he said. “In any case, the witch—the witch is busy,” he faltered over 'witch,' his title for Merrill. He'd reacted very oddly to Merrill bringing home her Clan, disapproving of her being in charge of so many people, but confused that they trusted her at all.
“What about Anders? A healer--”
“Tevinters know how to counter spirit healing,” Fenris snapped. “A nasty skill they picked up somehow—a counter-spell to spirit healing is frequently taught in Tevinter Circles. He would be useless.”
Abigail grimaced.
“It's a bad country that counters healing spells,” Aveline said, shaking her head.
“Tevinter is certainly a bad country, at that,” Fenris said.
So, just Fenris, Abigail, Aveline, Varric and Isabela would be there.
They went to the Hanged Man in the day. It was strangely empty, with only Isabela at the bar watching the room with a narrowed eye. Varric was nowhere to be seen, but he was surely there somewhere.
“Leto?” a redheaded elf at one of the tables looked up when she saw them. “It really is you.” her shoulders slumped when she saw them. She wore a long, Tevinter-style dress of cream-colored cotton.
They approached her.
“Varania?” Fenris breathed. “I—I remember you. We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked...”
Aveline put a hand on Fenris' shoulder. “What did you call him?” Aveline asked.
“Leto,” Varania didn't meet their eyes. “That's your name.”
The hairs on the back of Abigail's neck stood up. “Fenris...” she growled.
Fenris' face soured. He shook his head and stepped back. At the bar, Isabela got to her feet.
“Varania, you have about a minute to prove this isn't a--” Aveline started, then stopped. Someone had appeared at the top of the stairs.
Fenris' face when utterly gray under his dark skin.
“My little Fenris,” the man coming down the stairs had an oily voice, dripping with false sweetness. “Predictable as always.”
Danarius was tall and sallow-skinned, very thin with gaunt eyes and cheeks. He crackled with magic, the aura around him making Abigail's stomach drop.
“I'm sorry it came to this, Leto,” Varania said.
Fenris shook his head and stepped backwards. “You lead him here,” he snarled. “Of course--”
“Don't blame your sister, Fenris,” Danarius came to stand beside Varania. “She did what any good Imperial citizen would.”
“Proves the worth of the Imperium, doesn't it?” Varric had materialized from somewhere to stand next to Abigail. Isabela, who stood on Aveline's other side, nodded.
“Slavers,” Isabela shook her head in disgust. “What a good legacy you lot have going on.”
Danarius surveyed the group. “Are these your new masters, then?” he asked. “A pirate, a dwarf, a Guard—and the Champion of Kirkwall.” he raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.”
Aveline drew her sword.
“Fenris belongs to no one,” she declared. “And you shall not touch him!”
Danarius looked at her lazily, as if she were not worth his time. “The Guard, then, I see,” he drawled. “Do I detect a note of jealousy? The lad is rather...skilled, isn't he?'
“Shut your mouth, Danarius,” Fenris snarled, his markings lighting up. Before Danarius could retort, Aveline had slammed him with her shield.
“Filthy slaver,” she spat. She was flung back by a spell, to land heavily on the other side of the room. Fenris roared and charged Danarius, to come up against a magical barrier. He slammed into the barrier, his lyrium marks lighting up, and the barrier faded and cracked. Danarius looked shocked, and Fenris had a look of grim satisfaction on his face. He hit the barrier again, and this time it shattered.
Fenris lifted Danarius by his throat. “You are no longer my master,” he snarled, and jammed his hand into Danarius' chest.
Danarius' body fell, to collapse in a heap on the floor, surrounding by a spreading pool of blood.
“Fenris,” Aveline was at Fenris' side.
“Are you alright?” Fenris asked, noting the bruise on one side of her face.
“Me? What about you?” Aveline demanded. She reached out to touch his shoulder but he pulled away, to turn on Varania.
“I had no choice, Leto,” Varania said, holding up her hands and stepping back.
“Don't call me that,” Fenris snapped.
“You actually are his sister, then?” Abigail asked.
“Some sister you turned out to be,” Varric scoffed, shaking his head.
“He was going to make me his apprentice!” Varania insisted. “I would have been a magister...”
“You sold out your own brother to become a magister?” Fenris demanded.
“That's not exactly likely,” Varric pointed out, exchanging a look with Abigail. “How many elven magisters do you see?”
“You have no idea what we went through!” Varania snapped.
“No, because that slaver filth ruined Fenris' memory,” Aveline told her, pointing her sword at Danarius' corpse. “He can hardly sympathize with your plight if he can't even remember it!”
“You don't know what I've had to do since Mother died,” Varania said. “This was my only chance!”
Fenris moved forward, but Isabela grabbed his shoulder. He turned to snarl at her, and she glared at him.
“I know what it's like to feel like there's no options,” Isabela said to Varania. “But there's always a different choice, you understand? This—was a bad one. You're just bloody lucky it didn't turn out as bad as it could have.”
“Lucky?” Fenris hissed, his markings flaring again.
“Don't be an idiot,” Isabela snapped. “She's in the same place you were—doing awful things for awful people because she doesn't see any other choice. You'd want to hurt her for that?”
“I want to wipe her miserable hide off the face of the earth,” he snarled.
“Don't,” Isabela pushed him back.
“Isabela, after what she did--” Aveline started, but Isabela interrupted her.
“And I suppose every choice Fenris ever made was the right one?' Isabela said, hands on hips. “We just saw him shove his hand in someone's chest! Granted, that bastard had it coming, but who's to say he's never hurt someone who didn't deserve it? Fenris and this woman are the bloody same.”
“Fenris...” Varric spoke up. “I know how hard it is to believe, but the last thing you want to do is hurt your family.”
“You wanted this,” Varania said, and they all looked at her.
“What?” Fenris snapped.
“The—the markings,” she nodded at him. “You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won—you used the boon to have Mother and I freed.” she curled her hands into fists. “I didn't want any of this! Freedom was no boon to us—you received the better part of the bargain!”
Fenris stalked forward again, face twisting with rage, and Isabela stood between them.
“That's it,” she said. “Fenris—out. Varania—why don't you come with me? Last thing we need is a family squabble that can end in explosions.”
“Squabble?” Fenris and Varania both burst out at the same time, then looked at each other oddly.
“She sold me out—to Danarius!” Fenris snarled.
“She brought that bastard slaver here,” Aveline said. “She doesn't deserve your—compassion.”
“Look—Danarius is dead,” Isabela pointed to his corpse. “Right there, and Fenris is perfectly fine. No one's asking you to hug Varania—just to not kill her. Before today, you didn't even think she was real! You thought that Hadriana bitch had just made her up! What does this even matter to you?”
That stopped Fenris cold. “I...” he stammered, and couldn't seem to get the words out.
“Let me deal with her,” Isabela said. “And you lot get out of here. Varric—you do something about the body.”
Fenris and Aveline left. Varric sighed. “Right,” he said. “Why am I the person you turn to when you have a dead body?”
“Should I not, and put you out of business?” Isabela laughed.
“I—who are you?” Varania asked, eyeing Isabela with a wary gaze.
“Captain Isabela,” she said. “And I know a thing or two about situations with no good outcome.”
Isabela lead Varania out of another entrance than the one Aveline and Fenris took, leaving Varric and Abigail alone.
“Well,” Varric said with a sigh. “Gonna have to pay off the owner a lot to let any of you set foot here again.”
Abigail looked down at the body with faint disgust. “All this trouble, just for one person,” she said. “It doesn't make sense.”
“You heard him,” Varric said. “He had a—special interest—in our broody elf.” his lip curled in revulsion.
“I'll go see how Aveline and Fenris are doing,” Abigail said.
“Probably a good idea.”
Aveline and Fenris were not far away, talking quietly to one another. They were both still angry, Aveline's cheeks flushed and Fenris clenching and relaxing his hands.
“Abigail,” Aveline caught sight of her.
“Isabela left with Varania,” Abigail explained.
Fenris growled to herself. “She should have let me kill her,” he hissed.
“Abigail, I should have--” Aveline started.
“What, Aveline?” Abigail cut her off, suddenly very tired. “Arrested her? Danarius is slippery enough that she probably wasn't actually doing anything illegal.”
“I would have found something!”
“Break more laws, sure, that would've helped,” Abigail snapped. “Listen—let it go. Danarius is dead, Isabela came up with a solution—everything's fine.”
“None of it is fine!” Fenris snarled.
“You're alive, aren't you?” Abigail asked. “Danarius is dead, and you and your sister are both free. What's the problem?”
“She betrayed me—she sold out her own brother for power, like any other mage!”
Abigail looked at him, her expression cold. “I am going to ignore that,” she said. “Because I know that you're angry, and not thinking through this. But I want you to pull yourself together, and realize that you are alive, Danarius is dead, and you have family—family who is also alive and free and perfectly well.” she glared at him. “Do you understand me?”
A look of understanding crossed Aveline's face. “Abigail,” she started. “This isn't about--”
“Do you know what I'd do for a sister who was free?” Abigail snapped. “A brother who isn't dead? Take your blessings where you can get them, Fenris, and let it go.”
Aveline and Fenris looked at each other.
“Do not expect me to speak with her,” Fenris spat.
“I wouldn't.”
“Isabela can deal with her,” Aveline said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Fenris—she's not our problem.”