Everything was quiet for a few days, until Abigail happened across Fenris and Aveline arguing with each other outside the barracks.
“What happened?” Abigail asked.
Fenris folded his arms. “I told you, he would not accept it,” Fenris said to Aveline.
“He is in our city—they broke our laws!”
“What are you two talking about?
Aveline sighed. “More trouble with the Qunari,” she said.
“Oh, not again,”
“Yes, again,” Aveline said.
“Two criminals took refuge with the Qunari,” Fenris explained. “They converted to the Qun. Aveline wished for the Arishok to allow the Guard to take them.” he glared at Aveline. “However, they were only there because the negligence in the Guard in the first place.”
Aveline rubbed her forehead. “The laws are murky,” she said. “And if the two lads really did have a complaint that was ignored—I need to speak with my own men about it.”
“What did they do?” Abigail asked.
“They attacked and killed a man,” Aveline said with a shrug. “According to them, he had forced himself upon their sister. They reported him to the Guard, and apparently we did nothing about it.” she glared at Fenris. “Vigilantism is illegal, however, and that's apart from attacking the man.”
“The Arishok refused to hand them over,” Fenris said. “Which I believe he is within his rights by the laws of the Qun.”
“This is Kirkwall, not Par Vollen!” Aveline said.
“Do you really think it a good idea to antagonize them further?” Fenris demanded. “You know the Viscount doesn't have the stomach to fight them should he need to—and the Guard would hardly be able to stand up to them should they prove hostile.”
“I don't care how good their military is, they're not backed by Par Vollen,” Aveline snapped. “They're not an official diplomatic group, so they don't have immunity, so they are subject to our laws, not theirs.”
“So...you left the criminals there?” Abigail asked.
“For now.” Aveline said with a scowl. “I'll see if I can do anything else about this...”
“I would recommend not doing anything about it for now,” Fenris said. He and Aveline went up the steps to the Keep, arguing with each other the whole way. Abigail left them to it.
Things were quiet again for some time until Fenris ran into slavers again. They'd found where he lived, somehow, and he had fought his way through them until he got to Abigail's.
He didn't even bother knocking, just kicked the door in and slammed it behind him. He was covered in blood, naked sword gripped tightly in one hand.
“And what a pleasure it is to see you too, Fenris,” Abigail drawled.
“Hadriana,” Fenris gritted, slamming his sword down on a nearby sidetable.
“I beg your pardon?” Abigail said, delicately picking the sword up and placing it on a proper weapons rack.
“Hunters,” he snarled. “Found me—Danarius wasn't with them, it was Hadriana who sent them.”
“You need to slow down, and back up,” Abigail said. “Who is Hadriana?”
Fenris slammed a fist into the wall. “Danarius' apprentice,” he was shaking, Abigail noticed. “I was a fool to think I was free—they'll never let me be!”
“Why would he send his apprentice after you?” Abigail asked with frown.
“She probably volunteered to please Danarius—she would sell her own children if she thought it would please him.” his mouth was twisted into a scowl.
“Where is she?” Abigail asked, taking her armor off its stand and beginning to strap it on. “Do you know?”
“There's a system of caves outside the city,” Fenris explained. “They used them to hold slaves when Kirkwall still belonged to Tevinter.”
“And she's there?”
“Yes,” Fenris snapped. “We must go quickly, and find her before she has a chance to prepare, or flee.”
“We should get some help, first,” Abigail said.
“Aveline and Isabela,” Fenris said. “None of the others.”
“Any particular reason?”
“The others would take too long. Aveline and Isabela are the most trustworthy.” he stalked back and forth while Abigail finished putting on her armor and grabbed her staff.
“You don't think Carver's trustworthy?”
Fenris snorted. “Not enough.”
“Take your sword,” she gestured to where she’d put it. “And we’ll go find them.”
They left, Fenris going to get Aveline and Abigail racing for Isabela. They quickly reunited and Fenris and Abigail explained the situation, and they set off for the caves outside Kirkwall.
The slaver caves were occupied, fires burning and lanterns lit. Oddly, they seemed to be built on ancient dwarven ruins, Tevinter architecture mixing uncomfortably with a strong dwarven base.
“They're still here,” Fenris growled at seeing the lights. “Good.”
There were more slavers inside, and corpses bled dry for their blood.
“Hm,” Aveline prodded a body that had been carelessly laid on a table, the last remnants of blood dribbling from open wounds in the throat and wrists. “Wonder what Merrill would have to say about this.”
“Probably a lengthy talk about the minutiae of blood magic, actually,” Isabela said. “She'd tell you if you asked. Or even if you didn’t ask.”
“I hardly wish to hear about it,” Fenris snapped.
Deep in the tunnels, they found one lone elvhen woman, cowering against a back wall. She was blonde and very thin, her cheeks and eyes hollow. She shook when they approached her.
“Easy,” Abigail said, holding a hand out. “You're safe.”
“Are you hurt?” Fenris asked, pushing ahead of Abigail. “Did they touch you?” his eyes raked over her, checking her for injuries, but he didn’t come closer than a few feet.
“They've been killing everyone!” the woman burst out. “They cut Papa, bled him...” she brought clenched hands to her mouth.
“Why? Fenris asked. “Why would they do this?”
“The magister, she said she needed power,” the woman said. “Someone was coming to kill her!”
Fenris looked away.
“This isn't your doing,” Aveline murmured to him. He avoided her gaze, hand tightening around his sword hilt.
“We tried to be good,” the woman turned and began to pace. “We did everything right, she loved Papa's soup, I don't understand...”
“Some things don't need to be understood, dearheart,” Isabela said, her tone gentle.
“Is the magister still here?” Abigail asked. “We need to know.”
“I—I think so,” she said. “She was preparing for battle, she said—I think she's very frightened!”
“She has every reason to be,” Fenris growled.
The woman gasped. “Please, don't hurt her!” the woman begged. “She'll be so angry if you hurt her!”
“This must be awful,” Isabela said. “I'm sorry this happened to you.”
The woman scrubbed at her cheeks, her voice choked with tears. “Everything was fine until today!”
“It wasn't,” Fenris said, his voice soft. “You just didn't know any better.”
She looked at him. She was a little taller than he was, but she still somehow managed to look up into his eyes instead of down. “Are you going to be my master? If you kill her?”
“What?” Fenris exclaimed. “No!”
“But—I can cook, I can clean,” she said, almost indignant. “What else will I do?”
“There's lots of jobs someone with those skills can do, and be paid for it,” Abigail said.
“There's an awful lot of ships who could use a good cook,” Isabela pointed out. “As a matter of fact—I'm in need of one, actually.”
“You still don't even have half a crew,” Abigail pointed out.
“So she'll be one more,” Isabela said with a shrug. “If she wants to. How about it?” she asked. “It's not the best job in the world, but I'm going to have to say that getting paid at all probably beats not getting paid.”
“I—oh—thank you,” the woman said, blinking.
“Wait here,” Isabela said. “We'll come back, clear out the rest of those slavers, and come back for you. Stay out of sight.”
The woman nodded.
They left, the explore the caves further.
“You will pay her, yes?” Fenris asked Isabela.
“Of course,” Isabela said. “Why shouldn't I?” her tone implied that she thought he should know better.
“I—you are right. I am sorry.”
“It's only natural to be concerned,” Aveline assured him in a soft voice. “That poor woman has been through enough.”
“Perhaps if—I had not attacked so openly--” Fenris stumbled over his own words, and clenched his fists.
“You know yourself what these magisters are like,” Aveline said. “It would have happened someday, even if not today.”
“Yes. I know.”
Most of the slavers were cleared out by now, having gone to the front of the caves to be cut down by them.
“What kind of magic can she use?” Abigail asked. “This Hadriana woman? Merrill showed me some ways to counter blood magic spells--”
“Hadriana's spells will be far more powerful,” Fenris gritted. “And...clumsy,” he admitted. “Explosive.”
“Interesting,” Abigail murmured. “Are all magisters like that?”
“Those who practice blood magic, yes. They enjoy showing off, letting all who see them know their power. They do not feel the need to learn anything other than power.”
“When you say explosive, does that mean I need to do anti-fire spells, or--?”
Fenris ground his teeth. “Do what counterspells the witch taught you,” he said. “If you truly must.”
“We know a lot of witches,” Abigail said, her tone forcibly light. “You at least have to clarify which one you mean.”
Fenris snorted, and they continued to move.
They found Hadriana at the back of the cave systems. She was surrounded by fresh bodies that she reanimated aggressively, like she was a puppetmaster and they the marionettes. She managed to down Aveline by making a wound tear open on her leg, but before she could do too much damage, Fenris got her staff away from her and slammed down on her collarbone with his sword, breaking it.
She collapsed to the ground with a cry, her marionettes falling as well. Fenris raised his sword again, this time to strike a more deadly blow.
“Wait!” the woman held up her hands. “You do not want me dead!”
“There is only one person I wish dead more,” Fenris snarled.
Abigail looked down at her, expression glacial. “I hardly think I much want you alive, either.”
"Agreed," muttered Isabela, and Aveline nodded.
“I have information,” Hadriana hissed, clutching at her collar. “I will trade it in return for my life.”
Fenris snorted, still not lowering his blade. “What, the location of Danarius? What good will that do me? I would rather he lose his pet pupil.”
“You have a sister!” Hadriana exclaimed. “She is alive!”
Fenris froze, and his sword slipped from his hands to land with a clang on the floor.
“Liar,” Isabela said.
“Fenris, don't listen to her,” Aveline said with a hiss of pain, as she tried to stand on her bad leg. Isabela tried to help hold her up, but Aveline was a lot bigger than she was, and they both staggered a bit before Aveline had to sit back down. Isabela tore a strip from her tunic and began to bind up Aveline’s leg.
“You wish to reclaim your life?” Hadriana said, ignoring them. “Let me go, and I will tell you where she is.”
“She is lying, Fenris,” Abigail said, her tone icy. “She’s lying to save her skin.”
Fenris didn't say anything. His eyes were very wide, white showing all around the iris.
“If you want to know who you were, you'll let me go,” Hadriana said.
“Fenris...” Abigail warned, as Fenris stepped closer.
“Tell me,” Fenris said, his voice harsh. “And I will let you go.”
“Fenris, don't,” Aveline said.
“I have your word?” Hadriana gasped.
Fenris leaned down close to her. “You do.”
Hadriana let out a breath and closed her eyes. “Her name is Varania. She is in Qarinus, serving Magister Ahriman.”
Fenris tilted his head. “A servant. Not a slave.”
“She's not a slave.”
“I believe you.” his brands lit up, the Veil twisting and responding to his manipulations, and he drove his hand into her chest. She gasped, and her eyes rolled up in her head. He pulled his hand out, leaving a gaping wound, his hand covered up to the elbow in gore. She fell backwards, very dead.
He straightened up and retrieved his sword.
“We are done here,” he growled.
“That woman was a bloody liar,” Isabela said. Abigail came to help her support Aveline, and they both managed to get the larger woman on her feet. “Tell me you didn’t believe a word of that rubbish!”
“Fenris...” Aveline said, hissing with pain from her bad leg. “What are you thinking?”
“Danarius could have set a trap,” Fenris snarled, pacing back and forth. Aveline was moving slowly, and he seemed unwilling to leave, but didn't want to slow down. “He could have sent Hadriana to tell me about this—sister--” his lip curled into a sneer. “Even if he did not, trying to find her would be suicide. If Hadriana knows about her than Danarius knows...” he trailed off.
“Exactly,” Aveline limped on, Abigail under one arm and Isabela under the other. “But I am sure there is some way to find out if she's real or not.”
“I don't buy it for a moment,” Isabela said.
“Neither do I,” Abigail agreed.
“But if she is real, we should search for her,” Aveline said.
“What good would that do?” Fenris demanded. “Even if we found her, who knows what the magisters have done to her? What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?”
“Quite a great number of things, actually,” Abigail said, raising her eyebrow.
Fenris growled.
“Even if they did something to her,” Aveline said, with a glare at Abigail. “If we found her, we could help.”
“We've put up with you this whole time,” Isabela pointed out to Fenris.
“Isabela!” Aveline hissed. “We could either find the real woman, or we could deal with the trap Danarius set. Either way, it would be a good idea to look into it.”
“I--” Fenris paused. “I need to go.” he hurried out of the caves, out of sight.
“Damn,” Isabela muttered. “Should we go after him?”
“He can take care of himself,” Abigail said. “Anyway, neither of us can carry Aveline alone.” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I don’t know more healing,” she told Aveline.
Aveline just sighed. “I’ll find him when we get back to Kirkwall,” she said. “Hopefully he won’t do anything too stupid.” she stared after where he had gone, expression concerned. Isabela exchanged a knowing look with Abigail.
They left the caves, and found the elvhen woman sitting near the entrance. She brightened when she saw them.
“You're back!” the woman got to her feet. “I thought—I thought Mistress had killed you—”
“Us? Not to worry, dearheart, we got rid of her,” Isabela said with a grin and a wave with her free hand. “Now—why don't we get out of here and actually learn each others’ names?”
The woman tried to help hold Aveline up as well, but Aveline waved her off. The woman wrung her hands, not quite sure what to do with herself.
“Where did Ser Fenris go?” the woman asked as they left the tunnels.
“You know his name?” Abigail asked.
“Yes,” she nodded, her expression solemn. “I knew him a long time ago.”
“He went on ahead,” Isabela said. “Well—I'm Isabela, that's Aveline, and that's Abigail. And what's your name?”
“Orana.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Aveline said. She winced, bumping her bad leg.
“Oh, Mistress, please, let me help!” Orana implored, again trying to come to Aveline’s side.
“No,” Aveline waved her away. “I’m fine.”
“She has us,” Abigail said. “We can carry her.”
“I'm sure staying here isn't fun,” Isabela told Orana. “Come on—it's just a short way back to Kirkwall.”
“Mistress, if you just let me look at it—I’m sure I can do something--” Orana worried her hands. “I’m no healer, but I...” her lip trembled. “I should do something!”
“It’s quite alright,” Aveline assured her. “We know a healer. You don’t have to do anything.”
Orana still seemed very uncertain, but joined them as they went back to the city. Abigail brought Aveline to Anders' clinic while Isabela brought Orana to her ship. Anders fixed Aveline's leg with some minor complaints (“You slashed the tendon here—this is bloody ridiculous, you do understand that?”) and everyone returned home.
It was the middle of the night when Fenris came to see Aveline in the barracks.
“What are you doing here, Fenris?” Aveline asked.
“I...” he looked at her leg. “Are you...well?” he asked.
“I'm fine,” she assured him. “We went to Anders and he patched it up.”
Fenris scowled at the mention of Anders, but he didn't say anything about him.
“What about you?” Aveline asked. “Are you alright?”
“I—have been thinking of what happened, with Hadriana,” he stumbled a bit over his words. “I took out my anger on you, and the others. I was—not myself. I apologize.”
“No apology needed,” Aveline assured him. “Anyone would be angry about that. If some slaver brought up Wesley...” she shook her head.
He glanced at her. “Wesley was your husband, yes?”
“Yes.” Aveline sighed. “What about you? I was—we were worried when you took off. We didn't know where you'd gone.”
“I—needed to be alone,” he turned away and began to pace. “When I was a slave, she reveled in tormenting me.”
“You don't need to tell me this, Fenris,” Aveline told him softly.
He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now...”
“But she didn't. Not in the slightest.”
“I wanted to let her go, but I couldn't.”
Aveline frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Seeing her again—knowing she was there—this hatred, planted inside me, knowing it was they who did it—it was too much to bear.”
“It would be difficult for anyone to do,” Aveline said. “I can't say I approve—it's not exactly what I'd call legal.”
“Not particularly, no.” he waved a hand. “But I did not come to burden you further...”
“A burden isn't so heavy when it's shared,” Aveline told him.
He gave her a tiny smile. “Perhaps. But I am not entirely sure of that.” he sighed. “No, but I did have another purpose for coming here.”
Aveline raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Your...job. For an official interpreter for the Qunari. Is it still available?”
“Yes,” Aveline said. “Have you reconsidered?”
“If I worked for the city, you would be able to assist me in avoiding Tevinter hunters?” he asked.
“Slavers are not welcome in Kirkwall, first of all,” Aveline said. “As far as we're concerned, you're a free man. If you work for us, you become a citizen of Kirkwall, which renders any potential ownership of your person void.”
Fenris’ shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit. “Then—I suppose I will do it,” he said.
Aveline smiled.