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 blinks a couple of times, then after a moment he shakes his head. He seems to slowly be catching up to the fact that Fenris honestly thinks that selling sex is a problem. "Fenris, that's just sex. It doesn't wear me out. It can even be fun, if I find someone I actually like." He rubs at his eyes as he tries to reassure. He doesn't want to make it seem as if he doesn't understand why people might think of it differently, even if there are times he forgets that is the case. "I understand why you might be opposed to the idea and I won't force you to use the coin if you'd rather not, but please don't worry about me when it comes to that. That's really not a big deal to me and it's the only way I know how to earn gold."

He sighs and deflates a bit. "I don't want to sleep because I don't want to wake up." His voice sounds a little hollow, as if admitting this is giving up. In a lot of ways, he assumes it is.

"There are better ways."

Ways that don't echo his life as a slave, slipping back into that existence. Maker knows, he understands that it's difficult, to step away from that- he just wishes Cyril could see that. That he could understand he was worth so much more than that.

Still, he listens, and he understands. His shoulders slacken, and he lets out a long, slow breath, hand moving to rub the back of his head.

"I see," there's another long pause, before he offers-slightly hesitant. "Is there anything I can do to help with that?"

Cyril shakes his head. "I'm not sure. You've already told me this isn't a dream, but I... I just have a hard time believing it. You are..."

He stops, takes a breath. "You are too much like someone I would dream up. This all feels too much like a dream I would have. I don't want to go to sleep here and wake up back there."

Somehow admitting he thinks his life right now is a dream makes everything too frightening. Perhaps putting words to the feeling is enough to make everything end.

"Oh."

Well, he hadn't been expecting that. Honestly, most of the time he assumed he'd be a being of people's nightmares, moreso than their dreams. He's not exactly the comforting sort by any means.

"Well. Would it help if I pinched you?" he's mostly joking. "I am unsure how to help, you wish to know you are tethered to this reality? That you are truly, not asleep?"

Cyril smiles at the offer to pinch him. It's thinks like that that make Fenris difficult to see as real.

"I... I don't suppose just letting me stay awake is an option?"

A smile tugs at the corners of Fenris' lips.

"I don't believe that will help you all that much, my friend. Not in the long run."

Cyril rubbed his face. "I suppose if this is a dream, and this is the end of it... I should probably face that. Living in a fantasy never ends well."

"It absolutely doesn't. Reality is the only healthy option, in the end, though I do understand where you are coming from, honestly."

He'd done his fair share of that- thinking he was living a fantasy, that if he wasn't careful, he'd wake up, collared and chained to Danarius' side.

"But, when you wake, I assure you things will be as they are now."

Cyril considers Fenris for a moment before speaking. "I wish I could believe you," he says after thinking it over.

After a moment, he pushes his body up, forcing it to stand so he can head to the room they booked. "I'm not even sure this will work. I can't turn off my mind long enough to relax. The idea that I'm not really tired, that my body aching is something else, something he's doing to me, that I'm going to have to wake up too... It's..." He trails off, not sure he can even find words to describe that fear.

"Nevermind," he settles on instead. "I suppose I should give it a try."

Fenris stands with him. Hesitant, he raises a hand, resting it on Cyril's arm. Touch, never anything he gave freely or gladly, it truly cemented the important of the moment.

"I will help you, if you so wish it. Would you like me to...remain there? To keep an eye out while you sleep? It is of no great burden to to me do such a thing."

Cyril seems surprised, but very grateful. He offers Fenris a smile in return.

"Yes. I'd like that," he admitted. "You being around always manages to make me feel safer."

That's...nice to hear, perhaps even a touch surprising, that anyone can find safety and comfort in his general presence. Mostly, it gave him some comfort of his own, that he could do something to help Cyril with his problems.

"Alright. I can do that. Come on, let's go up to the room."

Cyril nods, accepting that. He goes willingly knowing that Fenris will at least be there. Then they just have to get ready for bed. By the time he's settling in, he seems anxious but at least he doesn't look like he's going to fight it.

"Is this the part where I wish you sweet dreams?" he teases lightly.

Fenris could be truthful. He could tell Cyril that he hasn't had any sweep dreams since the Lyrium brands- that, in all honestly, he can't even remember a time he had sweet dreams. He doesn't though, the aim is to settle Cyril down, not make things worse.

So, instead, he moves to get into bed, a soft smile crossing his lips.

"I suppose. I wish the same to you."

"A tall order for us both," Cyril replied. There was a tinge of sadness to the sentiment, though he didn't see as if he really wanted to dwell on their reasons.

Instead, he settled into bed and tried to get his body to relax. It was much easier than he would have thought it would be. It helped that Fenris's presence ensured he felt protected, even if he couldn't quiet the fear that this would be the last he'd see of him.

Despite that, he drifted off not too long after. His body was too ready to embrace slumber to let him hold back for long.

Fenris doesn't sleep right away. He lies there for a while, watching Cyril drift off, watching his breathing deepen, his chest rise and fall. Cyril really is quite beautiful, he realises, watching the other elves face at rest. The thought settles on him and burrows into his chest, a fact that scares him more than any of the slavers he's faced, bar one.

Still, he watches Cyril sleep, until he feels his own eyelids getting heavy, as he drifts off himself, into his usual restless sleep.

Cyril sleeps much more soundly and for longer than he would have thought given how much anxiety he had felt about it beforehand. If he dreams he doesn't remember what they are were about. If left alone, he sleeps for nearly sixteen hours, having been much more exhausted than he thought.

When he wakes he still feels groggy but much better now that he's managed to sleep. He doesn't move for a while, though, as he takes a moment to process what he's seeing and experiencing.

He isn't back with the magister. He's still in this inn. He still doesn't have a collar on. This has to be real.

By the time Cyril awoke, Fenris had been up for a while, never one to sleep for long. He'd remained in the room, however, keeping his word. He smiled, as the other elf woke up, from his place watching across the room.

"You slept well. And as you can see, I am still here, and very much real."

Cyril offers Fenris a gentle smile as he pushes his body up. His hand moves to his neck, double checking that it is indeed bare. Then after a moment, his smile turns into a chuckle, which turns into a bit of a laugh.

"Yes, I can see that. And that makes it slightly mortifying that I basically called you my dream man..." he shares, explaining why he might be laughing - even though the pure relief in the sound of it is clear.

"I hope you can forgive me that bit of sappiness."

A smile flashes across Fenris' lips at the confession. He dared not admit it, but it made his chest feel a little tighter in the knowing of it. He hadn't allowed himself to feel like that for a long time- even his time with Isabella had been a dalliance, nothing more. He noticed the subtle touch at the neck, knew what it meant, and knew not to bring it up unless prompted.

"Well, that is something I think I can certainly forgive you for, it's an honour."

He stepped a little closer.

"How do you feel? You look better rested."

"An interesting side effect of sleeping," Cyril points out, still smiling as he teases Fenris gently. He moves to get out of the bed. "How long have I been asleep? Did I delay your journey for too long?"

He smiles at the teasing comment, a soft rumbling chuckle leaving his chest.

"It's fine, you haven't delayed it by that much- far more important you got some decent rest. Please do, let me know if you need this again, I'd rather you be at your best, than exhausted and frightened."

Cyril smiles fondly for a moment. "Thank you, but I'd rather you stab some slavers," he replies, still meaning it as a bit of a tease, even though the desire to get revenge is strong in both of them.

"So I'll get ready and we can head out, take up the mission once more."

"That much, I can absolutely promise you, my friend."

He nods, standing.

"Good, I can wait downstairs for you."

Cyril nods and lets Fenris go. Then he gets himself back in order and packs up anything remaining. He feels more awake and better the longer he moves. By the time he comes downstairs he seems energetic and ready to begin their journey again.

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oh no fenris <3

here to break your heart :3

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