The Champion

            Mel wasn’t sure why she was here, wasting her afternoon drinking when she could be on the Wounded Coast.  She had even said so to the damn dwarf who was partially responsible for dragging her here, but he had ignored her protests and attempts to pull her wrist free of his hand.  She should’ve remembered that dwarves were actually quite strong.

            Fen was still hunting out of area and Mel hadn’t seen her mage friend for a while so she had decided to visit Merrill that morning for a few hours to see how she was adjusting to life in the city and to provide fresh meat for the alienage market.  The visit had been pleasant to start but then they had argued about Merrill’s use of blood magic and Mel had gotten frustrated enough to the point of stomping off when Varric and Isabela had shown up.  Sensing the mood, dwarf and pirate had decided that they both needed some good fun and that’s how the four of them had ended up in the Hanged Man, drinking and sharing stories in Varric’s rooms.

            As hours passed, the tension Mel and Merrill’s argument had brought vanished and Mel began to enjoy herself, although she wouldn’t admit that to anyone.  She was still trying to figure out how she felt about the pirate.  Isabella had shared her story with them but Mel couldn’t shake the feeling she was holding something back, something very important.  She also couldn’t miss the flirtatious looks she shared with her friend and how Merrill would blush under the pirate’s gaze.  Mel narrowed her eyes at them, feeling protective of her friend.  For now she’ll leave them be as she can see that Merrill was happy.  But she would keep an eye out as well.

            When the four of them found their cups empty, Mel volunteered to retrieve another round.  “Four more,” she told the bartender.  She leaned against the bar counter as she waited and tapped her foot to the lively music.  She remembered dancing with her brother and the servants’ children many years ago and the happiness she had felt the past few hours dimmed slightly.

            “Hey there little lady.”  Mel glanced to her right at the slurred words and saw that it was a young, handsome man wearing fine clothing.  A drunk noble.  Oh joy.  She turned back from him.  “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this?”

            Damnit.  I’m not “little”!  “Drinking with my friends.”  She shot the man a warning look when he drew closer, but he stupidly ignored it.

            “I could take you some where nice you know?”

            “I think I’ll just stay here.”  Suddenly, something landed on her ass and Mel froze.

            The man’s hot, smelly breath hit her next as he whispered in her ear, “My bed is much better than the cots here.”

            Mel kept her eyes forward and struggled not to cut the offending hand off right then and there.  “Get.  Your hand.  Off.  My ass.  Now.”

            “No need to act coy with me.  I’ll make sure you are well -”  Mel whipped around when the man’s body vanished and his words were cut off.  She stared in shock at the sight of the warrior elf that held the drunk by the throat and pushed him against a wooden post.

            “She said no,” Fenris growled, his lyrium brands beginning to glow.

            “Get your hands off of me!  How dare you -”  Fenris tightened his grip, silencing the man.  He leaned his face closer, glaring into the terrified man’s eyes.

            “Apologize.”

            Perhaps if the man was a little less drunk, he would’ve been more careful with his words.  “She never said no.”

            Mel snapped out of her frozen state at the warning glint in the elf’s eyes and quickly stepped forward.  Varric would kill them both if they bloodied his favorite tavern.  “How’s this?  No!”

            The noble man’s eyes filled with rage at the rejection.  “No one says no to me!  I am the son of -”

            This time Mel cut him off.  “If you were the Maker, I would still say no!”

            Fenris was losing what little patience he had left.  “Apologize,” he repeated, his voice making it clear that there would be no third request.  What liquid courage the man had quickly vanished and after he stuttered out an apology, Fenris released him and he ran out.  Mel prepared herself for a lecture when the elf turned to her, but was surprised to see concern in his eyes.  But just as she allowed herself to relax, that concern vanished.

            “You should be more careful.”  Mel glared at him and opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.  “Your drinks are ready.”  He moved past her and ordered himself a drink while she took the tray her order was on.  He followed her back to Varric’s rooms and surprised her again when he moved ahead to open the door for her.  She glanced at him as she passed but his expression remained blank and her attention was soon claimed by Varric when he greeted Fenris and called for a game of Wicked Grace.  Mel gave Fenris another glance when he claimed the seat next to hers but when his face still revealed nothing, she turned her attention to the cards in her hand and split it with keeping a wary eye on the pirate as she explained the rules to Merrill.

            They weren’t far into their game when the door banged open and two women and a man entered.  Marian saw their cards and immediately damned a hand.  Anders moved to seat next to her and Mel noticed how tense Fenris was.  And the glare he was aiming at the mage.  Mel gave the man her own look of disapproval as he had brought his staff with him.  No one in Lowtown was fooled by Anders’s claim it was for his “limp” and she knew that it was only a matter of time before a Templar called him out during the day.  Thankfully, Varric had convinced Merrill to leave her staff at home.  Two people with staffs would’ve drawn too much unwanted attention.

            Mel looked up when she noticed the other woman hadn’t taken a seat and was instead staring at her.  She raised a brow at the Captain of the Guard.  “Yes?”

            Aveline narrowed her eyes at her.  “You’ve created quite the reputation for yourself.”

            Fenris moved his glare from Anders to the Captain and she widened her eyes in surprise at the action.  She had thought he felt the same of the vigilante as he did of Anders, but he looked ready to attack if she made a wrong move towards the young woman.

            “I’m not sure how.”  Mel glanced at Fenris, also surprised by his actions.  What is with him tonight?  “Selling meat and furs isn’t really worth much talk.”

            Aveline sighed and took a seat.  When Fenris saw she wasn’t there to make any accusations or arrests, he relaxed and turned back to his cards, as if nothing had occurred.  “Just try not to cause me too much trouble,” the Captain begged.

            Mel smirked.  “I would Captain, but trouble tends to find me.”  Fenris let out a snort, earning himself an elbow to the side.  Mel hissed, forgetting about that stupid armor he wore and shot Varric a look when he chuckled.

            Aveline glared in frustration at Marian, who tried to look innocent.  “You aren’t the first to say that.”

            With that, they returned to their game.  Mel soon learned that Aveline and Isabela didn’t get along at all as they spent much of the game trading insults until Marian told them both to just shut up.  Fenris and Anders also didn’t keep their distaste for each other secret, though their method was much quieter and only consisted of glares over the table.  Mel still tired of it quickly and nudged the elf next to her at one point, indicating for him to quit it.  She figured he would ignore her, but he surprised her yet again by keeping his attention only on the game.  Marian shared how she and her sister, along with Aveline and Anders, had snuck into their family’s old estate and retrieved her grandparents’ will, learning that everything was supposed to go to their mother, not their uncle.  That was why Bethany was not with them tonight as she had decided to stay home and help her mother with her plans to petition the Viscount to get the estate back.  Amazing just how many secret nobles there are running around Thedas, Mel thought with a small smile to herself, thinking back to her days in Ferelden.

            Once Marian had finished her story and Fenris won the first hand, Varric turned to Mel.  “Why don’t you tell us a story, Kitty?”

            Mel paused in her deal of the new hand.  “What did you call me?”

            Varric shrugged.  “Just trying out an option.”

            Mel didn’t even look at him as she resumed dealing out the cards.  “Veto.”

            “How about Red?  Never really got an answer on that.”  This time Mel glared at him. “Take that as a no.”

            “Kitty, Blondie, Sunshine, Daisy… What am I?” Aveline asked.

            “Beg your pardon?”

            “You have a nickname for everyone but me.  Why?  Oh and Anders, you keeping trying to peek at my cards and I’ll find the nearest Templar.”

            Varric shook his head.  “That’s not true.  There’s Bianca.”

            “Hey, I don’t have one either!” a slightly drunk Marian shouted.  Anders slowly moved her drink far from her reach.

            Aveline rolled her eyes.  “Crossbows don’t count.”

            “Well, now you’ve hurt her feelings.”  When the Captain just looked at him he shrugged.  “Haven’t thought of a good one yet.  What do you think of Red?”

            “You just tried that one on her!”

            “Well then, you think of one and let me know.”  Mel let out a laugh and the dwarf turned back to her.  “So about that story…”  Varric watched as she thoughtfully stared at her hand, curious to see if she would willingly share a bit more about herself.

            Mel wasn’t an idiot.  She knew the dwarf was trying to get her to open up about her past and she was just as aware of the fact that she was growing too close to a few in the room.  Is that so bad though?  You miss having friends to talk to – of the two legged variety.  She got an idea of a story she felt comfortable sharing.  “I’m sure you’ve wondered how Fen and I met.”

            That got everyone’s attention.  Isabela leaned forward, making sure to keep her cards well hidden.  “Fen?”

            Merrill nodded.  “On’alamelan.  He is a red lion.”  She giggled, a little drunk herself.  “He’s a big softy.”  Mel used a hand to cover her smile.  Fen would be so annoyed by that description.

            “Ah yes.”  Isabela smiled at the mage before focusing back on Mel.  “I’ve heard about this legendary beast.”  She smiled what appeared to be a charming smile, but Mel thought there was also a sense of coldness about it.  “Interesting name,” the pirate continued, glancing at the white-haired elf sitting next to Mel.  “Is that not confusing?  Fen, Fenris…”

            Mel rolled her eyes and ignored her.  Instead, she shared with everyone her rescue of Fen when he was a cub from a bunch of smugglers and how he has been by her side ever since.  “I’ve read about red lions,” said Anders.  “And they don’t care for humans.  Except for maybe as food.  So how did you tam-”

            “I didn’t tame him,” Mel snapped.  She took a calming breath and gave the startled man an apologetic look.  “Fen is as wild and free as the rest of his kind.”  She smiled, “And Fen would rather eat boar over human.”

            “Then why does he remain with you then?”  Mel turned to Fenris whose eyes held another question she couldn’t read.

            “I don’t know,” she answered and truly she didn’t.  Fen was both an exceptional hunter and fighter, clearly able to take care of himself and yet he still remained with Mel.  He was fiercely protective of her, yes, but red lions were typically lone creatures and, as Anders had pointed out, would rather avoid humans.  But Mel had accepted long ago that the great cat was just as mysterious as he was fierce and she didn’t see the point in questioning the most loyal friend she has ever had.

            The focus returned to the game with light conversation for another hour or so.  Mel found herself answering more questions about Fen and she surprised Varric when she willingly talked about her time in Lothering with Marian.  The dwarf also kept an eye on the elf to her left and he was glad to for if he hadn’t he would’ve missed the multiple instances where Fenris would glance at Mel, almost too fast to be noticed by another.

            But the conversation wasn’t to remain light and friendly for long and soon the two mages were arguing about blood magic, much to the annoyance of the other players.

            “Why would you deal with a demon?” Anders demanded.  “How big of a fool are you?”

            Merrill shot him a glare, “I needed his help.  He was really very nice about it.”  Mel fought the urge to roll her eyes.  She already had this argument earlier today, she really didn’t want a repeat.

            Anders threw his hands in the air.  “Of course he was!  He’s using you to get a foothold in a mortal brain!”

            “He’s not wrong Kitten,” added Isabela, earning a surprised glance from Mel and Merrill.

            “He’s a spirit,” stated the stubborn mage.  “He offered me his aid.”

            “You’re hardly one to criticize,” said Fenris as he asked the dealer for another card.

            His comment redirected the human mage’s attention and anger.  “And what about you?  You ever going to stop harping on the mages here?”  Marian elbowed him and shook her head, but was ignored.

            Fenris glared at Anders and snapped out a response. “No.”  Mel frowned but kept her eyes on her cards.  She really didn’t want to get involved in this argument.  Especially when she was sitting next to the elf whose hatred of mages was well known and could magic his fists into people’s chests.

            “They aren’t what you saw in Tevinter!”

            “The moment they are free, mages will make themselves magisters.”  Only Varric and Isabela noticed how Mel’s hands slightly shook and anger flickered in her eyes.

            “They are slaves!  You should want to help them!”

            Fenris’s gaze warned of violence and Ander’s eyes appeared on the verge of glowing.  No one was bothering to look at their cards anymore.  Fenris laid his cards face down and leaned forward.  “I don’t” he spat, venomously.  Mel flinched at his absolution and earned herself the attention of all, including that of the battling mage and warrior.  Ah shit, she thought, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

            “What about you?” asked the mage.  “Do you think mages should be locked up?”

            Mel kept her eyes on her cards a moment longer but eventually met his.  “No.”  She noticed Fenris lean away from her slightly at her answer.

            Apparently Anders had too and he decided to push this a little further.  He had also noticed how the elf was around the woman and he didn’t see the point in wasting an opportunity to get under the irritating elf’s skin.  Just returning the favor, he thought bitterly.  “Care to clarify?” he asked.

            “Anders,” warned Marian but it was too late.  Mel knew she had to answer, because not to would raise too many more.  But she also knew that the same would happen when she did answer.

            She took a deep breath and said, “I believe that out of all that are born in this world, mages are handed the worst cards.  They are born with powers that are both a gift and a curse, but instead of being provided support and guidance, they are feared and persecuted.  Which in my opinion only makes things worse and has created this never ending cycle of hate.  Mages shouldn’t be locked up for something outside of their control.”

            Fenris abruptly stood up, jolting the table so badly it caused a few of the drinks to spill, and left, slamming the door behind him.  It was silent for a few minutes with half the room glaring at Anders and the other half looking toward Mel with concern.  Just when she was thinking about leaving as well, Varric ordered another round of drinks and cards and for another hour they were able to slip back into light conversation and the occasional insult.

            Eventually though, Mel called it a night.  Varric offered to walk her home which she laughed at and rejected, saying it was a little late for him to walk to and from the Wounded Coast.  She said goodbye to the others and gently patted Anders’s shoulder when he attempted to apologized, indicated there were no hard feelings and exited the dwarf’s rooms.

            Anders’s attempted apology, no doubt Marian’s idea, had Mel thinking about Fenris and his departure.  She was confused how she had felt by his exit.  It had hurt.  In the past when she encountered those who hated mages, she would feel anger and had no trouble arguing with them.  But with Fenris, while she had felt a bit of anger when he expressed his hatred of mages, she also felt the desire to keep her opinion to herself, to not argue with him and his reaction to what she said had hurt her.  Normally she wouldn’t care if she pissed someone off enough that they left, actually if such an argument didn’t end in a fight she thought of it as a win, but with him her chest had hurt at the slamming of the door.  What the Void is wrong with me?  He’s a complete ass!  His opinion shouldn’t cause me pain, I should be pissed off that he wants people like my brother to forever be locked up! 

            Mel exited the Hanged Man and abruptly stopped when she saw who was waiting just outside, barely visible in the street torches’ light.

            “I thought you went home,” she said, surprised to see the elf she had just been thinking about in front of her.  And not looking as enraged as he had been when he left.

            Fenris was leaning against the wall, his sword on his back and his arms crossed.  He stared at her a moment then shrugged.  “I knew you would refuse the dwarf’s offer to walk you home.”  He frowned.  “Which is foolish as Kirkwall is even more dangerous after dark.”

            Mel felt herself relax at the familiar topic and disapproving tone and rolled her eyes.  “I live out on the Coast, too far for Varric to follow me out and return before light.  Besides, I know he has some of his ‘associates’ keep an eye on me while I’m in the city.”

            Fenris decided he needed to talk to the dwarf later about that.  If she could spot them, then potential attackers could as well.

            Mel continued, smiling.  “Despite what you believe, Fenris, I am very capable of taking care of myself.”  With that, she turned sharply on her heel and made to walk away.  However, strong arms came around her but before they could trap her, she dropped to the ground, slipping out of them.  She then swept her leg out and behind her, knocking away those behind her.  She drew a hidden dagger from her boot and jumped onto the fallen body, straddling it and holding the blade to her assailant’s throat.  She smirked down at the elf.  “How uncomfortable is it, laying on your sword like that?”

            Fenris narrowed his eyes at her but she could see his approval in them.  “You’ve made your point.  Get off,” he grumbled.  Mel’s eyes widened and her face reddened when it dawned on her what their position was.  She hurried off the warrior, missing how he too was blushing.

            She sheathed her dagger back into her boot and pretending to brush dirt from her leathers.  Then she looked back at Fenris.  “So, convinced I can make it home just fine on my own?”

            “No.”

            Mel sighed in defeat and once again began walking, this time with Fenris walking beside her.  “You and Fen are too alike,” she muttered.  Fenris remained silent but she caught him smirking out of the corner of her eye.

            As they made their way through Kirkwall towards the city’s main gates, they kept silent but would glance at each other when they believed the other wasn’t looking.  Both were deep in thought.  A couple of times, Mel thought about giving him the slip, not just because she knew it would irritate him but because he made her nervous, being this close to her and them being alone for the first time.  It only made her more nervous trying to understand why he made her nervous.

            “I would like to apologize.”

            Mel looked at him in surprise.  She never thought he would apologize for… what was he apologizing for exactly?  “Why?  What for?”

            Fenris kept his gaze ahead and unreadable.  “For how I acted the other day.”

            Mel almost stopped moving at that, but instead just stumbled along.  “You’re apologizing for saying that I had no business stepping in between that elf and guardsman?”

            He shook his head.  “No.  I apologize for how I delivered the message, not the message itself.”

            She sighed.  Of course not.  “If you’re not sorry for the message, why be for the delivery?  At least it was honest.”

            “It wasn’t.”  Mel opened her mouth to ask what he meant but fell silent when they approached the city’s gates.  As they passed the guardsmen on duty, she kept her head down but mentally cringed when Fenris looked them in the eye.  He’s just going to cause himself an unnecessary search when he enters the city again.  Once they were outside the city, he continued talking.  “I wasn’t angry because I believe you don’t know what you are doing or how to protect yourself.”  Mel looked away from him but not fast enough that he didn’t see the hurt in her eyes at the reminder of his words.  He softened his voice.  “Those were words said in anger, ones that I myself do not believe.  I do however believe it was foolish to defend him alone.”

            “That was why you were angry?”

            Fenris paused before answering, “Not exactly.”

            “Then why?”

            “I don’t know.”  Mel glanced at him sharply, but couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.  “But I shouldn’t have allowed my anger to grow as strong as it had.  For that, I apologize.”

            Mel stared at him a moment.  “That was hard for you wasn’t it?”  He shot her a glare and she smiled.  “I accept your apology.”  He grunted in acknowledgement and they continued on in silence again.

            Fenris’s thoughts returned to what was said in the tavern and he felt himself become irritated and then angry thinking about mages and her opinion.  He attempted to keep these feelings to himself but he must’ve failed as Mel asked, “Now what?”

            He glanced at her before focusing ahead again.  “What?”

            “You’re angry again.  I’m almost certain that I haven’t done anything within the last few minutes, so what is it?”  When the elf warrior remained silent she continued.  “I’ll just keep bothering you and we still got quite the walk.  Unless you want to go back?”

            Fenris almost smirked at her obvious hint.  Instead, he kept his expression serious and asked, “Why do you support mages?”

            Mel froze in her movements for a moment before continuing on.  “I believe I’ve answered that.”

            “No.”  Fenris grabbed her arm and brought them both to a stop.  He stared at her intently.  “You didn’t.”

            Feeling her own anger resurfacing, she ripped her arm out of his grasp.  “Why the Void do you care?”

            “You know the evils they do!” he shouted.  “Yet you support blood mages and abominations!”

            Mel invaded his personal space and poked his armored chest.  “First of all, I know the evils some mages have done.  Secondly, I’ve befriended mages who have made poor decisions and I’ve made my stance on those quite clear.  Merrill and Anders are good people and I won’t condemn them for actions that have harmed none but themselves.”

            “For now,” he growled.

            “And third!” she continued, talking over him.  “The worst evil I’ve experienced was at the hands of someone with no magic.  And the kindest of actions from a mage.”

            Fenris saw tears in her eyes and felt his anger begin to drain away.  He didn’t what to make her cry, he just wanted to understand.  Or make her understand.  “Who?” he asked softly.

            Mel’s eyes widened as she realized what she had almost revealed and stepped back.  She chose to remain quiet and began walking onward.  Fenris followed behind her, hating the sense of guilt he felt.  He ran an armored hand carefully through his hair as he realized he might’ve caused her to close herself off again.  Venhedis!  I’m not like the damn dwarf.  I don’t know how to get information from a person without bringing pain.  He watched her for a moment and decided that perhaps in order to convince her to share why exactly she felt the way she did, he should share a little bit more on why he hated mages.

            “Danarius used to have me pour drinks for his guests.  Usually wine.”  He noticed her slightly turn her head in his direction and continued on.  “He liked how nervous I made them.  But one day, there was this one magister that wasn’t nervous about my presence.  He watched me like a cat watches a mouse, his eyes lingered on my markings.”  Said markings glowed faintly at the memory.  They had stopped walking and Mel was facing him.  “He and Danarius spoke of trivial things as they drank and his eyes never left me.  Eventually Danarius revealed the other magister’s purpose and mine in that moment.”  He clenched his fists.  “Using the lyrium within me, the man performed a blood magic ritual to summon a demon and bind it to him.”

            “Why did he need to use you if he used blood magic?” Mel asked softly.

            “This demon was very powerful and blood magic wasn’t enough.  He used blood to bring forth the demon and my markings to bind it.  They used the blood of a slave girl.  A maiden I believe.  No more than fourteen.  Slaughtered her as you would a pig.”  He looked away from Mel.  “I heard later that the demon proved too strong for the mage after all and possessed him.  He – it was killed but only after murdering a merchant and his family.”  He closed his eyes as his markings flared for a moment and he felt the stabbing pain it always brought.  They snapped open what he felt fingers touch a lyrium line and saw Mel gently tracing one.  He watched in fascination as her touch didn’t add to the pain and even seemed to sooth it.  She didn’t speak until he had calmed and the markings dimmed.

            She stepped back and dropped her hand, not understanding why she had done what she did.  “I can understand your hatred of Danarius.  I can understand your hatred of Magisters.  But I cannot understand your hatred of all mages.  The wrongs of the few shouldn’t condemn the many.  Not all should be distrusted.”

            “You show a level of distrust with many in Kirkwall,” he pointed out.

            “I prefer the term cautious.”  Her eyes seemed to cloud over and she stared blankly past him.  “And I have cause here.”

            “Unlike Ferelden,” he pried, thinking about what Hawke’s sister had shared with them.

            Mel waved her hands in a so-so manner.  “I was cautious there too.  Maybe not as much but still cautious.”

            “The Blight is over.  You could return.”

            She looked back toward Kirkwall and shook her head.  “No.  I can’t.”  Before Fenris could question her further, a low roar sounded.  While he tensed up and his hand moved to grip his sword, Mel smiled and turned to face the tree line.  “Fen’s returned.”

            Soon enough, the great beast stalked his way out of the brush and shadows, approaching them.  He gruffed in greeting and rubbed against Mel.  She ran a hand through his striped fur and asked, “Good hunt?”  The beast gave another gruff, earning a laugh from the rogue.

            “Translation?” asked the elf.

            “That was a yes,” she said.  Fenris wondered just how she was able to know that.  The red lion turned his gaze unto the warrior and he felt as if the animal was looking him over before giving him a nod of approval.

            Fenris looked at the trail ahead and back toward Kirkwall.  “It would appear I no longer need to escort you further.”  Fen tilted his head in questioning.  “She had a habit of getting into trouble.”  The red lion huffed as if laughing and Mel shot them both a glare, Fenris’s more of a warning.  He smirked at her before turning to walk back toward the city.

            “Fenris.”  He stopped and looked back.  Mel was resting a hand on Fen’s head and smiling gently at him.  “Thank you for walking with me and sharing part of your story.  I’ll return the favor one day.  I promise.”