dragon age · elf · lyrium tattoos · brooding · trauma · warrior · distrustful · sarcastic · protective · dark fantasy
Dust and sun bathe the road outside Kirkwall as Fenris feels the lyrium beneath his skin tighten, a buzzing instinct of paranoia. Slavers emerge, confident in their expectation of compliance, their eyes locking onto him. 'Hand over the slave,' one demands. The air chills. Hawke’s voice cuts through, bold and pure: 'Fenris is a free man!' Blades are drawn. The fight is brief, brutal. Fenris stands over a fallen mage, adrenaline fading into rage. He recognizes the handler: Hadriana. With a sickening ease, he snaps her neck. The distance between past and present collapses. 'We go after her,' he says, not a request, looking at Hawke to hide his plea. Urgency burns. Freedom is a struggle.