samahl | for fenris

for fenris

Magister Anguis had once belonged to an impressive Tevinter household. Once upon a time, the name had had weight and power behind it. Now, though he still had the title of Magister, it was widely known that his house was deeply in debt. He had sold most of his estate and slaves in effort to save face, keeping only a small house close to the edge of the Starkhaven border and three slaves; one young maid, a footman, and his most prized possession, a Dalish elf whom he kept close to him nearly every moment.

The Dalish elf was called Cervi by the Magister but that was not the name given to him by his Clan. It had been years since he had been called his given name and though Cyril kept it in his heart he was rather protective of who knew it. The two other elven slaves who tended to the house were teenagers, Cassia and Viridi, and even they knew him only by the name their master had given him.

The summer of 9:40 Dragon had been remarkable so far because the south had been plunged to chaos since the Nevarran Accords had been annulled. They were at war, with mages and templars bring death and fire every where they went. That and the tensions between the Empress and her cousin had boiled over into a Civil War that ravaged the Dales.

Chaos in the South brought profit for Tevinter, and Master Anguis had wanted to take advantage of that. He had been so desperate to regain his family's standings that he had even crossed the border into Starkhaven. He allied himself with mercenaries turned slavers and preyed on those caught up in the chaos. He was so set in the idea of finding a fortune by selling the disenfranchised that he had even brought Cassia, Viridi, and 'Cervi' with him - ignoring the fact that technically once they crossed the border the three were technically no longer in bondage. To him they were property, and always would be.

The night was warm, but not nearly as hot as it would have been north of Vyrantium. Cyril was finishing up setting up a bath that he and Anguis would have shared. Cassia and Viridi were cleaning up in the kitchen after creating a modest meal for their master. The Magister was in his study going over papers that tracked the transportation of the slaves his men had found.

He had no idea that those men were now likely dead, nor that the one who had attacked them had found information on him and his location. No one in the house would have dared to believe that the Magister would not make it through the night.

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Cyril felt as if every muscle in his body tensed at the idea. He wanted to go home, but the idea of facing everyone who once loved him was terrifying.

"I..." he started, but he wasn't sure how to continue. He couldn't say that he wanted to stay because he saw no live here, but he wasn't sure he could bring his damage back to his family either.

Fenris watched him, quiet, not pressing him one way or another.

"You do not need to decide right away. I will be moving off westwards tomorrow."

There's a pause, he tends to travel alone, he usually prefers it, but-

"...You may travel with me, for a while, if you wish. Until you have made up your mind."

Cyril looked up at Fenris, and for a moment seemed a little stunned. "Honestly? That wouldn't trouble you?" He really liked that idea, because Fenris made him feel safe. But he didn't want to impose on Fenris's mission or sanctuary.

"It's fine," he replied with a small, nonchalant shrug.

Mostly true. He would rather travel alone, but Cyril wasn't terrible company, and perhaps he could help the elf in ways no one else could. He had experience on his side- of getting free, of trying to find some vague sense of normalcy again. He could offer this.

"I may need to leave quickly, if I find a nest of slavers nearby- but I would not mind the company, for a while."

Cyril nodded. "And we could use the papers we took from the estate to track down some of them," he pointed out. "I can read Tevene, if any of them are written in it."

"That...would be useful. I can speak it, but I'm poor in my reading of it. I was already South, by the time I started to learn to read, and that was in common."

He wishes he'd learned a little more, now- when it came to Tevene- it would make following the paper trail easier, for certain.

"Perhaps I could teach you and make things easier for you," Cyril pointed out. At least some good should come of the education he had no say in receiving.

"Certainly. It would help pass the time, and it would be somewhat helpful for the future," he offers a smile. "Thank you."

Cyril nods and presses his lips together in thought, considering the direction to two teenagers had left. "When were you planning to leave?"

"In the morning, first light. Best we get some rest before we start travelling, it might be a while before we get a decent bed again."

And he never wanted to overstretch Sebastian's hospitality- no matter what the Prince said otherwise, he always felt like he was intruding.

Cyril nodded, acknowledging that, though he wasn't sure how much sleep he would be able to get. He hadn't slept at all during their trip to Starkhaven. He didn't want to dwell on that though, preferring instead to focus on the future.

"I'll make sure that Cassia and Viridi are settled in tonight then, and that they're set with everything they need." He seemed as if he was going to leave, but then he paused and considered Fenris.

"Please don't leave without me," he asked, voice gentle.

The tone surprised him, the quiet need there. He wasn't used to such sincerity- or at least, the sincere desire to be around him. Honestly, he wouldn't have blamed Cyril for sneaking away in the night, or just avoiding travelling with him altogether. He inclines his head in agreement, in assurance.

"...You have my word.

Cyril offers him a grateful smile and then disappears to spend time with the other two slaves who had lived with the magister.

The next day he's ready to go at dawn, and meets Fenris. He looks a little tired around the edges, but ready to leave.

Fenris, as promised, is in the courtyard. He's making a final check of his pack, making sure he has everything he needs, light traveller as he is. When he notices Cyril, he inclines his head in greeting.

"Ready to move?"

Cyril has a pack of his own. Despite his tiredness, he offers Fenris a smile and nods.

"It's been a long time since I was nomadic. Hopefully I haven't forgotten everything," he teases lightly, mostly in a self-depreciating sort of way.

The other elf gives a soft huff that's almost laughter.

"We will soon see if you perish in the next few days or not."

He's...probably joking. He sounds like he's joking.

Cyril looks amused by the joke, so he clearly takes it as a joke. "If that happens, please bury me near a tree. I do need to be Dalish in some way, even if it's with my burial."

"Can I use any kind of tree? Does it have to be one of those...um. What're they called? The alienage ones?"

He sounds amused but he's also a little serious too. He has no idea how you Dalish, sorry, Cyril.

"The Vhenadahl?" Cyril asks, and chuckles. "Nah. It can be any old tree. Though, if you happen to find a talking one, that would be pretty good too. Then it could sing of the beauty that was lost with my demise." He seems to enjoy being able to tease Fenris and joke with him.

"And the beauty of the man who buried me."

That does cause a light blush to cross Fenris' cheeks, as he lets out a low, amused chuckle. This was...nice, he found he truly enjoyed it. Enjoyed Cyril's company. Relaxing more every day with him.

"I doubt I would go that close to a singing tree, but if that's the song it would sing, I might make an exception," a smile. "All for you, of course. To sing your memory, and suchlike."

"Oh of course, you aren't the type to worry about the trees singing about you," Cyril teased. "Maybe instead they'll talk about your giant ... sword." And he really shouldn't have made that sound so suggestive, and yet here they were.

A loud, surprised laugh escapes him. He genuinely hand't been expecting that.

"I'm not convinced many people would want to hear that song."

"I might," Cyril comments, still teasing more than anything though. "But I've been told I have a thing for giant swords."

"Is that the case? Duly noted."

There's a small up-curl of his lips at that, perhaps a little appraisal.

"Well, we aught to get moving."

Cyril nods at that. "Lead the way. I'll follow you," he replies. He shifts his pack just to make sure he's ready to head out.

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