wolfuncaged | IC CONTACT

IC CONTACT - DRIFT FLEET

FROM:

SUBJECT:

	KIRK	Fenris? It's me. Can I come in?
	MARIAN/CLOUD	Meanacing
	DORIAN	Well, I wasn't certain what to expect...
	JUSTICE	You seem to have escaped the planet unharmed.
	RIONA	You know, when someone is three sheets to the wind and suggests a threesome...
	RIONA	Fenris! It feels like ages since we've spoken.
	KIRK	ACTION
	MARIAN	Fenriiiiis
	ADALWOLFE	please tell me you didn't sleep with Isabela too
	ANDERS	:3
	MARIAN	This will do
	KIRK	Can we talk?
	MARIAN	You're a mess, Marian.
	ADALWOLFE	Special delivery!
	ANDERS	Maybe it will help with your face.
	HAWKE	Fenris? You there?
	VARRIC	Don't-- don't do anything.
	OCTAVIA	Hey, Fenris
	ELIZE	Fenris?
	JOVE	ACTION
	STEVEN	fenrisssssssssssssssssssssssss
	ROBIN	Listen, Fenris, I know you don't give a shit about me, but--
	FELIX	Fenris, I apologize for contacting you in this way, but I was wondering...
	JOVE	SO ABOUT COLE
	JOVE	STRAWBERRIES

TO:

SUBJECT:

	KIRK	About Anders
	KIRK	Kirk wakes
	KIRK	Kirk? Can we speak?
	MARIAN	Where are you? We need to speak.
	KIRK	You wish to speak
	HAWKE	We need to speak
	VARRIC	Varric. Varric. Varric wake up.
	JOVE	Jove. May I have a moment of your time?
	JOVE	Can we speak? Are you busy?
	HAWKE	Is there anywhere on this blighted hole we can find any decent alcohol?
	JOVE	I was spiteful and angry to you, and I owe you an apology.
	HAWKE	Hawke. Did you know the Inquisition have a demon?
	VARRIC	There is something I need to tell you.

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"A romantic comedy," Kirk clarified then with a humming sound beneath his breath, his eyes drifting over Fenris' back, following the path his lyrium made. Something so lovely, and yet it was so painful. The universe was a cruel beast to impose such irony. They looked like vines, or like they were following the pathways of his veins.

Slowly his hand rose, reaching out as of it to touch them, but stopped himself. "Did he ever write about how you got the lyrium?"

"This book has all our stories in it. Of course, it's his version of Thedas, so there are difference to the one I remember, but still-"

Fenris looks down at the book in his hands, tapping it with a finger gently.

"I- did not remember it myself, I still don't," his brow furrows softly. "But once we learned the truth of them from my sister, he did."

"You have a sister?" he asked, surprised by this revelation. He had never heard of Fenris speak of any of his family, and while hadn't assumed it meant he did not have one, he had also thought it meant Fenris had been taken from them very early and possibly didn't remember anything about them.

"Varania."

He doesn't say the name with any fondness or warmth. His voice his horribly cold, distant. She was his last hope to piece his broken mind back together and she stabbed him in the back.

"I was told of her by one of Danarius' lackeys," Hadriana, who had starved him and beat him and prevented him from sleeping- he is never sorry for ending her life. "I managed to get in touch with her and asked her to come to Kirkwall to...talk. But it turned out she wished only for power that Danarius could give her. She allowed herself to be bait in the trap he set for me."

Oh. So not a fond subject. It was obvious now why he had never spoke of her before. Kirk nodded quietly to this revelation, at first not sure what to say to that. He had never been so thoroughly stabbed in the back before, so relating to Fenris' pain or even trying to felt insulting. Gently, slowly, he reached out and placed his hand high on Fenris' back, hoping it was a comforting touch.

"They can't touch you here, Fenris. And even if they do come, I won't let them," he said, a quiet fierceness to his words.

Not a fond subject at all. His back muscles tense at Kirk's touch, but he doesn't push him off, at least. He continues to stare at the book.

"Unlikely anyway. I killed Danarius myself, and she ran away after Garrett and Varric convinced me not to do the same with her."

Not that it guarantees they'd never show up here. Felix told Fenris that while he was in the castle he does not remember visiting, Danarius had come there. Dead as he was, he still showed up. It's been a fear of his since then that the man may someday cheat death in the Fleet as well. Varania, he would find a way to deal with, but Danarius...he was a different story.

"Before she left, she told me the truth of the markings," his eyes shift to his hands, staring at the lines moving up his fingers. "I wanted them. I fought for them, so I could use the boon that came with winning to set her and our mother free."

His fingers curl up a little, there's a faint flash of blue, then they fade to white again.

"I let him do this to me."

Gently, Kirk's hands wrapped around Fenris'. He does not squeeze or otherwise try to immobilize his hands, his fingers are simply wrapped around the elf's, encompassing them, as if he might shelter them and by extension Fenris.

"You were trying to do something good, though. It's not your fault that Danarius was a cruel man," he said quietly. "You can't blame yourself for the wickedness of others, or for wanting to help your family. There's no shame in that, Fenris."

Fenris looks down at their hands, silent for a moment, listening to Kirk's voice. The man's words bring him back to himself, he was teetering on the brink of one of his darker moods. The kind it's much harder to drag himself out of. He's not done that for a while, here, where he's found something like safety- comfort. Family.

"It did nothing good for them. Freedom was no boon, she said. She and our mother suffered in poverty, and I wasn't even aware of their existence. I knew nothing but him."

Danarius had been his world- for so long. And for a large part of that time, he didn't fight it. Never even questioned it. He was less a fierce wolf and more a stupid dog on a leash. And others had suffered because of that.

"Good intentions don't always go right, it's true. But it doesn't mean you are bad for trying, for doing what you thought was right. We can't predict the consequences, not always. How could you have possibly known what would happen, when all you knew was that they were slaves? Or so I'm assuming, from what you've said."

He kept hold of Fenris' hand, his thumb tenderly brushing across the a silver lyrium thread.

"And if your sister is the one telling you that - she could have easily told you that to hurt you, because she needed you weak to give you over to Danarius. She could have lied Fenris, and if nothing else she was speaking from her own experience, not your mother's. Maybe your mother did struggle, but maybe your mother was happy for it - to struggle freely rather than under Danarius' thumb. Your sister's words are not gospel truth, and her ambitions were clearly far from pure."

"I don't know, I don't remember."

That's the frustrating part of this. If he had all the pieces of the puzzle, he'd be more comfortable with it. But he doesn't. His past is a gaping void to him. He doesn't even remember what his mother looks like, the sound of her voice. She's a blank face to him.

"She told me that after I killed him. After the threat was gone," he stares at Kirk's hand, exhaling softly.

Calm. Deep breaths.

"It hardly matters now. It won't change anything. It is what it is, and I won't get any more answers other than those."

"Even more motive just to hurt you. Her path to power was gone, so if she must suffer to her mind, then so should you," he shrugged. He saw the reasoning clearly, and honestly he thought Fenris had done the right thing. If his sister could not find happiness in her freedom, than that was her own fault and none of Fenris'. If it was so bad, they could have always returned to Danarius' service, after all.

But, there did indeed seem little point in talking about it further. Fenris would either decide to carry that unfounded guilt on his shoulders, or choose to let it go. Kirk could force him to do neither, but he hoped he had given him new perspective on the matter at least. He patted his hand and let go, reaching instead to pick back up the book.

"What's your favorite of Varric's tales?" he asked him, keeping close enough to offer the comfort of proximity, but not enough to crowd if Fenris decided he wanted more room.

"Perhaps."

Kirk would be right in his estimation. It's just one of the many burdens Fenris carries around with him. Something he will likely never have the chance to solve. He welcomes the change in subject, a smile playing across his lips.

"It isn't in this one- it's one of his fictional works. Hard in Hightown. Though he did, rather unsubtlely, put us all in it under different names. It's on the network, I believe."

Honestly, Kirk should be more mature as a thirty year old man, but even he had to snigger at that particular title. Which, he thought, was precisely the response desired. No one named anything that with the particular genre of romance or erotica and did not expect one to giggle.

He leered at Fenris and waggled his brows at him. "So did you get get lucky between the pages?"

That at least gets a laugh out of the elf. Alas, the factual is more more interesting the fictional, in that regard.

"No. I was just a surly bartender."

So basically his life now.

"Not such a bad position to be in. Bar tenders tend to know all the juicy secrets, right?" he said in an effort to console him, even if he wasn't sure Fenris needed it. He seemed the type not to quite appreciate having his fictional sex life laid out on a page.

He glanced at the other volumes Fenris had, leaning his shoulder against the elf's.

"Could I borrow a few? I haven't had the chance to read any of Varric's tales yet, but maybe I should."

"The ones that talk to their clientele do, I'm sure."

He doesn't really do that. Unless grunts and occasional glares count as conversations. He doubts it.

He smiles, waving a hand at the books.

"Be my guest. I'm sure Varric would have liked the idea of other people beyond Thedas enjoying them."

Edited 2017-03-08 22:06 (UTC)

Suppose that depends on where you are. Kirk's been in some bars where that's considered eloquent. Even deep and meaningful.

Kirk got up and went to the books, glancing at a few of the spines and picking out two of the books to start with. He smiled at them, looking back to Fenris and holding up the ones he'd chosen so he would know which he had taken.

"Anything good about you in either of these?" he teased him.

Fenris needs to go to these bars, clearly.

"Not me specifically," a smile curves the corners of his mouth. "But there's plenty of 'Ferris' in there."

He absolutely used fingerquotes.

He held up a book to his lips to hide the laugh, though it was clearly audible.

"No relation, of course. Purely a fictional character," he grinned broadly.

"Absolutely. Nothing like me at all."

Screw you, Varric. At least the elf sounds amused.

"Of course you won't mind if I come to you for clarification on a few things? You know, cultural differences and all," he continued with another quiet laugh. Fenris should absolutely take this to mean he would be teasing him about his portrayal in the novel, and said events.

He gets it, thankfully, and gives a soft scoff in response.

"Cultural differences, right. Of course, I wouldn't want you getting confused, now."

"Absolutely. I mean, if I get confused, I could end up saying the wrong thing to someone," he continued to laugh behind the book, his eyes sparking with their teasing.

"Maker forbid that should happen," the elf responds, with an amused, teasing eye roll.

"Oh yes, forbid," he nodded and exhaled a laugh before turning. "I should go, but I'll let you know what I think of the book when I finish it, shall I?"

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wolfuncaged - 2017-04-25 00:31 (UTC) - Expand

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