Okay, not a prompt, but I had this little story floating in my head today. I thought I'd share.
Fenris slashed through the last enemy, and watched silently as the man fell dead to the floor. He felt no remorse for killing filth like them.
He had been minding his own business, for once not on a job with Hawke, when he had come across a group of humans chasing a young girl down the quiet street that he had been walking down. They had stamped on the child’s ankle, making a snapping sound that he heard more than twenty metres away.
Outraged, he had approached to intervene. That was when he had recognised some of the men that had brought new slaves to his old master, and snapped. He attacked them without a second thought, letting his training as a living weapon take over completely. It didn’t matter that they were armed and he wasn’t; he tore them apart regardless.
Now that the slavers were dead, he breathed in deeply, letting his self control reign old instincts in. When he felt clam, he turned around, remembering the girl that he had rushed in to protect.
Wide eyes stared at him from a distinctly elven face. The girl was obviously from a nearby alienage, and had been snatched by the men, probably while she was performing an errand. She blinked at him several times before lowering her gaze at his blood stained gauntlets.
Not wishing to scare the girl anymore than he already had, Fenris pulled the clawed gloves off and clipped them onto his belt. Hoping that he looked less threatening, he slowly walked up to the girl and crouched down. He tried to ignore the heartache that gnawed at him when she recoiled, dragging her injured leg as she scrambled back.
“Please don’t be frightened,” he called softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The girl didn’t reply, but she stopped moving away from him. Taking it as a good sign, he shuffled closer to her and examined her broken ankle, being careful not to touch it.
He wondered if he should go to Hawke and see if apostate could heal the damage, or if Merrill might agree to help. But, he realised that, if they weren’t at their homes, he had no idea where either of them would be. He could send them a message, but there was no telling when they’d receive it, or when they’d be able to come.
Sighing in frustration, he concluded that all he could do was to get the girl back to the alienage. But, with a broken ankle, there was only one way to get her back.
It was times like these when he hated the magister even more for branding him with lyrium. But, as Hawke had said once: desperate times, desperate measures.
“Come on, let’s get you back to your home,” he offered, holding out his hands.
The girl stared fearfully at him for a moment, before cautiously reaching out to him. He gently took her hands and placed them on his shoulders as he turned round. His managed not to hiss as he felt her tiny weight on his back, moving her arms to cross over his throat. He hooked his arms behind her knees so she wouldn’t slide off, and then stood up.
“By the way, what’s your name?” he asked, turning his head to look at the girl as best he could.
“Maria,” the girl replied quietly.
“Maria,” Fenris echoed, giving the girl a small smile. “I’m Fenris.”
The journey back to the alienage was mercifully uneventful. As they walked, he saw several groups of people slouched around in the alleyways. But thankfully, they were all probably sleeping off last night’s drink.
It wasn’t until the alienage gates were in sight that he saw Tiffany Hawke. She was approaching the alienage, and she was carrying her staff-sword, and the blade was covered in blood. He wondered what she had been up to, but ignored the question to call out to her.
The apostate spun round and stopped when she spotted him. As he drew near enough to read her expression, he saw that surprise was quickly replaced by a stoic mask that she couldn’t quite hold, her lips curling up slightly as she observed the girl on his back.
“Hey there, Fenris. Who’s your friend?” Hawke asked curiously.
“Maria,” he replied. “She had an encounter with slavers in Lowtown’s back alleys. Can you heal her ankle? One of them stepped on it.”
“Certainly,” she assured, her tone serious.
She instantly approached the limp and awkwardly positioned foot. He listened to her mutter a healing spell and was soon done. He carefully put Maria down and watched the little girl test her healed foot. Then, certain that it was fixed Maris ran back into the alienage, calling a quiet thank you just before disappearing out of sight.
“So... you’ve been taking out slavers today as well, huh?” Hawke inquired.
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Fenris asked, not bothering to answer her question. “Why didn’t you ask me to join you?”
“I was contacted around midday by the alienage elder that they were having trouble with slavers,” Hawke explained. “Everyone’s been helping out. I did go round your house, but you weren’t there. I left you a message, though.”
“I... I see,” Fenris replied, unsure of what else to say. “I’ve been wondering around Lowtown all day.”
He paused. He knew that he had just accused Hawke of leaving him out of the loop intentionally, not in so many words, but still. He knew he should apologise, but he had no idea how to say it.
“Well, sounds like Maria was lucky you were down here,” Hawke noted. “There was one group that kept giving us the slip.”
“Where are the others?” he asked.
“Hn, probably down the tavern by now,” Hawke suggested, chuckling slightly. “Care to join, me?”
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Oh, Fenris,” Hawke called as they walked, a mischievous smile working its way onto her face. “You giving a little girl a piggyback ride? Very cute.”
“If anyone finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it,” Fenris noted.
“Don’t worry,” Hawke assured him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
)
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:devil:
