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fan_flashworks2024-02-24 08:07 pm
thehungrycity) wrote in fan_flashworks2024-02-24 08:07 pm
Entry tags:
Law/Lore Challenge: Dragon Age: Fanfic: Postliminium
Title: Postliminium
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: G
Length: 925 words
Relationship: Fenris/F!Hawke
Content notes: N/A
Author notes: Written for the ‘law/lore’ challenge in fan_flashworks.
Summary: Fenris meets Magister Dorian Pavus and learns of his liminal status within Tevinter law.
***
It was inevitable, after they answered Varric’s summons, that Fenris would eventually come face to face with the magister. Fenris and Sara were talking together near the fire in the Great Hall when Dorian swept over.
“Good day, Champion Amell. It is an honour to finally meet you.” He took Sara’s proffered hand and bent over it as though he were going to kiss her signet ring. When he straightened, he cast a calculating eye over Fenris standing beside her. “And you must be Fenris. Rather distinctive. I had heard of you back in Tevinter, but it was only after I arrived in Skyhold that I realised you had some… connection with the Champion of Kirkwall.”
He put the slightest amount of weight on the word, making it clear he knew something about the nature of that connection. Fenris kept his expression stony, but flexed his hand, waiting for Sara’s word to end this fool. Instead, she gently laid her hand on the inside of his elbow, a silent command to hold back. The magister’s eyes briefly flicked down to the moment of touch, no doubt categorising and filing it away for future use.
“Magister Pavus,” Sara said smoothly, “Varric spoke of you in his letter.” She did not look at him, but there was the faintest hint of reprimand in her tone. Fenris dropped his eyes and chin, and stepped back slightly to indicate he had heard and would obey.
“Flattering things, I hope. Champion, please do not be concerned. I have no interest in compelling Fenris’s return to Minrathous. Not all of us agreed with Magister Danarius’s… methods.”
“How did the Magisterium take the news of Danarius’s death?” Sara spoke as if she was discussing the weather, but Fenris was sure the magister would not miss the implied threat.
“It is understood that Magister Danarius publicly challenged the Champion of Kirkwall – and lost. That is well within the bounds of our legal code.” He sketched a small, ironic bow towards Sara. “There are no hard feelings, I assure you.”
“What happened to Danarius’s property?” Fenris asked, the question out of his mouth before he even realised he had thought it.
Dorian turned to face him. “The majority of it – his house and wealth – transferred to his heirs.” He paused for a moment before adding, as if offhand, “There was some dispute around one particular piece of property.”
“Me,” Fenris said. It wasn’t a question, but Dorian inclined his head in confirmation anyway.
“There are some who believe you now legally belong to the Champion, as she challenged Danarius for ownership. There are others who believe you rightfully belong to his heirs. I’m afraid the situation is unlikely to be resolved without the Champion making an appearance at court in Minrathous.”
“So I am neither free nor unfree,” Fenris said bitterly.
“Are any of us otherwise?” Dorian asked, and there were gentle creases in the corners of his eyes. “Liberum eligere vincula sua. It was a pleasure to meet you Champion, Fenris.”
And, with a quick bow, the magister swept away through the hall and towards the war room.
“Strange character,” Sara said in a low tone.
Fenris could not help but agree with her assessment. The Pavus family was rich and old, acknowledged as altus, descendants of the first magisters, with one of the finest lineages in Tevinter. Yet Dorian did not have the manner of an altus about him. Fenris did not understand his game.
“What did he say at the end there, in Tevene?”
“He said, ‘free men choose their own chains.’”
“Huh.” Sara turned towards him and, reaching for his hand, placed it on her lower abdomen. “Do you think he meant this?” she asked, her breath tickling his ear. “He seemed to know – or guess – something.”
“If he did, there are no chains lighter or more beautiful,” Fenris said, but his thoughts were on the information Dorian had volunteered.
Sara seemed to sense his distraction. She gently let his hand fall and said, “It must be strange, to hear news from home after so long.”
“It is,” Fenris admitted. “I did not think I cared for what was happening there, but now I find it matters that my status is being debated in my absence.”
“Dorian at least seemed… sympathetic, for a magister.”
“His sympathy means naught,” Fenris said, with a twist to his mouth. “If he will not act against us, that is enough for me.”
Sara was silent for a moment. “We can leave, if you’re worried.”
Was he worried? Fenris considered. Meeting Dorian made little difference. Any one of the multitude of strangers in Skyhold could be a Tevinter agent in disguise. While they had perhaps revealed more than they had intended to the magister, it was little more than had been captured in Varric’s outrageous book.
“No,” Fenris said. “We should see through what we came to do. But maybe, in future…” He trailed off.
“What is it?” Sara prompted.
Fenris frowned. He had spoken without thinking, caught up in a momentary daydream. It was certainly not something to be discussed here or now. Perhaps, not ever. They were unlikely to ever be able to travel to Minrathous to settle his status. He was unlikely to ever be truly free. But maybe the magister was right, and no one ever really was.
He shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”
Sara narrowed her eyes. “If you’re sure,” she said dubiously.
“I’m sure,” he said, and slid his hand back onto her abdomen.
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: G
Length: 925 words
Relationship: Fenris/F!Hawke
Content notes: N/A
Author notes: Written for the ‘law/lore’ challenge in fan_flashworks.
Summary: Fenris meets Magister Dorian Pavus and learns of his liminal status within Tevinter law.
***
It was inevitable, after they answered Varric’s summons, that Fenris would eventually come face to face with the magister. Fenris and Sara were talking together near the fire in the Great Hall when Dorian swept over.
“Good day, Champion Amell. It is an honour to finally meet you.” He took Sara’s proffered hand and bent over it as though he were going to kiss her signet ring. When he straightened, he cast a calculating eye over Fenris standing beside her. “And you must be Fenris. Rather distinctive. I had heard of you back in Tevinter, but it was only after I arrived in Skyhold that I realised you had some… connection with the Champion of Kirkwall.”
He put the slightest amount of weight on the word, making it clear he knew something about the nature of that connection. Fenris kept his expression stony, but flexed his hand, waiting for Sara’s word to end this fool. Instead, she gently laid her hand on the inside of his elbow, a silent command to hold back. The magister’s eyes briefly flicked down to the moment of touch, no doubt categorising and filing it away for future use.
“Magister Pavus,” Sara said smoothly, “Varric spoke of you in his letter.” She did not look at him, but there was the faintest hint of reprimand in her tone. Fenris dropped his eyes and chin, and stepped back slightly to indicate he had heard and would obey.
“Flattering things, I hope. Champion, please do not be concerned. I have no interest in compelling Fenris’s return to Minrathous. Not all of us agreed with Magister Danarius’s… methods.”
“How did the Magisterium take the news of Danarius’s death?” Sara spoke as if she was discussing the weather, but Fenris was sure the magister would not miss the implied threat.
“It is understood that Magister Danarius publicly challenged the Champion of Kirkwall – and lost. That is well within the bounds of our legal code.” He sketched a small, ironic bow towards Sara. “There are no hard feelings, I assure you.”
“What happened to Danarius’s property?” Fenris asked, the question out of his mouth before he even realised he had thought it.
Dorian turned to face him. “The majority of it – his house and wealth – transferred to his heirs.” He paused for a moment before adding, as if offhand, “There was some dispute around one particular piece of property.”
“Me,” Fenris said. It wasn’t a question, but Dorian inclined his head in confirmation anyway.
“There are some who believe you now legally belong to the Champion, as she challenged Danarius for ownership. There are others who believe you rightfully belong to his heirs. I’m afraid the situation is unlikely to be resolved without the Champion making an appearance at court in Minrathous.”
“So I am neither free nor unfree,” Fenris said bitterly.
“Are any of us otherwise?” Dorian asked, and there were gentle creases in the corners of his eyes. “Liberum eligere vincula sua. It was a pleasure to meet you Champion, Fenris.”
And, with a quick bow, the magister swept away through the hall and towards the war room.
“Strange character,” Sara said in a low tone.
Fenris could not help but agree with her assessment. The Pavus family was rich and old, acknowledged as altus, descendants of the first magisters, with one of the finest lineages in Tevinter. Yet Dorian did not have the manner of an altus about him. Fenris did not understand his game.
“What did he say at the end there, in Tevene?”
“He said, ‘free men choose their own chains.’”
“Huh.” Sara turned towards him and, reaching for his hand, placed it on her lower abdomen. “Do you think he meant this?” she asked, her breath tickling his ear. “He seemed to know – or guess – something.”
“If he did, there are no chains lighter or more beautiful,” Fenris said, but his thoughts were on the information Dorian had volunteered.
Sara seemed to sense his distraction. She gently let his hand fall and said, “It must be strange, to hear news from home after so long.”
“It is,” Fenris admitted. “I did not think I cared for what was happening there, but now I find it matters that my status is being debated in my absence.”
“Dorian at least seemed… sympathetic, for a magister.”
“His sympathy means naught,” Fenris said, with a twist to his mouth. “If he will not act against us, that is enough for me.”
Sara was silent for a moment. “We can leave, if you’re worried.”
Was he worried? Fenris considered. Meeting Dorian made little difference. Any one of the multitude of strangers in Skyhold could be a Tevinter agent in disguise. While they had perhaps revealed more than they had intended to the magister, it was little more than had been captured in Varric’s outrageous book.
“No,” Fenris said. “We should see through what we came to do. But maybe, in future…” He trailed off.
“What is it?” Sara prompted.
Fenris frowned. He had spoken without thinking, caught up in a momentary daydream. It was certainly not something to be discussed here or now. Perhaps, not ever. They were unlikely to ever be able to travel to Minrathous to settle his status. He was unlikely to ever be truly free. But maybe the magister was right, and no one ever really was.
He shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”
Sara narrowed her eyes. “If you’re sure,” she said dubiously.
“I’m sure,” he said, and slid his hand back onto her abdomen.