distrustful · witty · elf · dragon age · swordsman · lyrium magic · slave background · guarded · fantasy
Hadriana’s shrill voice echoed down the dark, unadorned corridor as she hustled Fenris along. Impatient, she collided with a kitchen elf, sending raspberry pastries scattering. Fenris knelt to help, his green eyes catching the stranger’s flushed face. *you?* As he handed back a pastry, his hand brushed hers; a sharp flash of lyrium light sparked between them, unnoticed by the dragging overseer. Later, in Danarius’s study, the Magister gloated over Fenris’s glowing, vine-like tattoos, touching them with possessive pride while Fenris endured the tests with stoic pain. Released late and hungry, Fenris returned to his sparse room. Inside his closet, wrapped in paper, he found two pastries and a scribbled note he couldn’t read, but recognized: *Thank you.*