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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"That's sound enough logic."

He appreciates Cyril sees that, that he doesn't want to be in the way- that he doesn't feel like he's losing out on some revenge- Maker knows, that's what Fenris lived and breathed for so long. He's glad to see it hasn't sunk as deep. Not obviously so, anyway.

"When I have dealt with this band, I can help you train, if you would like. Regain some muscle strength."

Cyril brightens up at the suggestion. "Will you? I'd think I'd really like that. It would be wonderful to feel as if I can regain some of the power I lost..."

He trails off as he realizes how true that statement is and then looks a little embarrassed at having just said it outright.

"Plus, I'll never say no to seeing you work your body." Adding a flirt brought the conversation back to a place he felt comfortable.

"Of course, I'd rather you be able to defend yourself, should anything happen."

He laughs, awkward, but certainly not unwelcome.

"Well. Thank you. I can say very much likewise."

Cyril raises his brow at that, amused at how easily Fenris responds to the flirt in kind. "It's always reassuring to know when there is mutual appreciation," he says, leaning a little closer to Fenris as if he enjoys the presence of the other elf.

Fenris tenses, just for a moment, but allows Cyril near. There's an element of coiled spring to him, but it's not overly obvious. He's learned to control it. He smiles, a lopsided affair.

"Oh, there absolutely is."

Cyril looks as if he might want to respond in some way, but a sound from the woods - that of one of his traps setting off - draws his attention. He pulls away then to look over towards the noise.

"I should go look at that," he says before standing. "Don't go anywhere," he teases a bit before disappearing to find the trap.

He'd been watching Cyril intently, on the cusp of...something, when the noise broke the moment. He clears his throat, moving to sit upright again.

"Yes...of course. I'll wait here."

Cyril gives him a smile before heading into the woods and is gone for only a handful of minutes. When he returns he has a couple of rabbits. He seems impossibly proud of something so simple, but the fact that most of the traps worked makes him feel confident in the abilities he had thought he had forgotten. Then he takes to the task of skinning and preparing the animals, something else he manages to remember how to mostly do on his own and which gives him more moments of pride.

He had been relying pretty heavily on Fenris until then. The thought that he can do something on his own is reassuring. Once the animals are finally being cooked on the fire and he's washed his hands he settles next to Fenris again, and still seems pretty pleased over everything.

"Maybe starting over won't be as difficult as I thought..." he admits after a moment.

Fenris sees the pride across Cyril's features and can't help but smile. It's something he should be proud about. He lets Cyril get to work, not interrupting - leaving him do it himself, allowing him that moment of pride, of contribution.

"You seem to have a very good handle of it, my friend."

"Hopefully they taste all right," he says, grinning still. He feels better than he has in a long time, and he isn't even sure why. It's such a simple thing to be able to do.

"You are putting your stomach on the line for me right now."

"I am certain they will be fine," he offers Cyril a smile. "I have the utmost faith that you will not poison me. I'm offering you some hard-earned trust on this."

Hard earned indeed, but Cyril has earned that much.

Cyril chuckles softly. "Oh good," he says, playing up seeming relieved. He does feel a weird flutter in his chest at being told that Fenris trusts him.

"I'll try not to disappoint you."

Fenris offers him a smile in return.

"I am certain that you won't."

And he finds that he's surprised he means that. His faith in the other elf has certainly grown plenty.

Cyril doesn't reply to that right away. Instead, he smiles and looks at Fenris for a moment before he looks away.

"I feel like it's been a long time since I could have that," he admitted after a moment. "It's nice to have someone to count on, and who counts on me too."

"I have to admit, there is a certain level of...comfort to that."

And so, he let the conversation lull into silence, occasionally offering some small conversation as their food cooked, and then was eaten. It was at the end of the meal, satiated and content, that he spoke again, offering a smile.

"That was marvellous, my compliments to the chef."

Cyril chuckles a bit. "I am hardly that, I think, but it served its purpose." He seems pretty satisfied himself.

"It is good to know I can still manage it though. There are so many skills that I was raised with, skills engrained in me since I was a child, that I haven't put to use since I was taken. A part of me always worried that all of it would have faded by now." He paused, considering the woods around him for a moment.

"There are a great many things about my people that bother me, but there's good there too, I think." He shrugged. "At least I hope so, or else there was a lot that I tried to cling to that would end up being meaningless."

Fenris is quiet for a moment, mulling that over. He's never been a fan of the Dalish. They've always felt very holier-than-thou, and their continued purposeful ignorance towards the plight of the city elves has always rubbed him the wrong way. They love eleven kind and their ancient ways, but are uninterested in helping the elves that need the most help- it's very two faced.

Hell, Cyril had ended up into slavery, and a genuine worry for Fenris is that if they should actually find his clan, that they'd turn him away. Damaged goods, tainted by city life. No longer one of them. It's something he hopes won't happen, but his prior experience suggests very much otherwise.

"Hmm. It is good to have meaning in your life. And your survival skills have certainly served us well."

He decides to not comment on the Dalish as much as possible, that's likely the best course of action currently, he thinks.

"Have they? I feel as if I've been clinging to your side as if I was a scared child who has never stepped outside before," Cyril replies, offering Fenris an apologetic smile.

"I feel as if even my feet need to remember their calluses."

"You're doing better than you realise, I assure you. I would make it no secret if I thought you were slacking in any way."

Not one to sugar coat the truth, is Fenris.

"That, my friend, will come with time."

He feels reassured at that thought and offers Fenris a smile as thanks. He isn't really looking forward to this taking time, but he knows if he were talking to someone in his situation he would suggest patience as well. It's just more difficult to apply that to himself.

He doesn't really reply to this verbally though, allowing them both to fall into silence again to enjoy the night. It's still unusual how comfortable he is with silence around Fenris.

Silence is always comforting to him. It allows him time to breathe, to process his thoughts, put them in order. He lived so much of his life, moment by moment, day by day, only caring for the whims of Danarius, and how those could change with the wind. Freedom, true freedom, once the man was dead, gave him more time for introspection. He was glad of it, and glad that Cyril didn't object to it.

For the rest of the night, Cyril stays quiet. He only really communicates when needed to ensure that the camp stays safe, but for the most part he seems content with the sound of the fire and the woods that surround them.

Finally, he seems to think it's time to tuck in. "I suppose I ought to try to sleep. This time at a decent hour..." He still feels embarrassed at everything he had admitted that had been causing him to not sleep.

Fenris occasionally got up to check the perimeter, but aside from that, was happy with the comfortable silence between them. Still, night does some, and sleep was still necessary. They had a lot ahead of them.

"That would be wise," he offers a smile. "I will sleep near you, if that still helps you."

"It does," Cyril replies with sincerity. Later, he'll probably worry that he showed a tad too much honesty here. "Having you near always helps."

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