driftfleet | Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

[Fenris remains silent too, not even looking at Wolfe. Not out of any left over anger, or even residual bitterness. His eyes remain on his prisoner, watching him for even the slightest escape attempt. He doesn't trust the man as far as he can throw him, and if he tries to run, he intends to end it, quickly.

The man scuttles ahead, taking a long, winding way through the various dilapidated parts of the station, before stopping at what could at best be called a shop and at worst a dusty alcove. ]

Uh. It's here.

[They'll just have to talk later, then. Now is hardly the time anyway.

Adalwolfe peers into the gloom, not stepping too far let there be an ambush or a trap. If Varric or Isabela were here, they'd just know at a glance, but they're not. No use in wishing.

The mage turns back to their "guide", still appearing affably charming and smiling like knives.]

If there are any alarms or traps, now would be the best time to generously share that information.

[Or else. For a moment, Adalwolfe's armored hand sparks ominously, a small link of electricity jumping between his gauntleted fingers like a Tesla coil, then dispersing with the feeling of an oncoming storm.]

[Of course, Fenris doesn't need anything like that to see. There are benefits to being an elf, and seeing in the dark is one of them. So his eyes are just going to catch the smallest bits of light on offer and glow creepily. It probably makes the man move faster, at least.

The slavery makes a lot of whispered, panicked denials on any traps, from somewhere in the darkness as he rummages through his things, eventually producing a tattered book. ]

[That never ceases to creep him out, honestly. With Merrill or Fenris or even Pounce as of late, stalking around the floor of their bedroom and suddenly looking at him with ethereal green eyes that somehow peer right into his soul. The feeling crawls over his shoulders and raises the hairs on the back of his neck, making him miss most of what the slaver is babbling on about traps.

Wolfe just takes the book without any preamble, likely interrupting yet another denial as he flips through it to the most recent pages, looking for holding areas and dock numbers, places where they can kill the most slavers and free the most slaves. You know, make a difference in the community.]

This is good, maybe we don't have to kill you after all. There are less unsavory ways of making coin, you know.

[He snaps the book shut and tucks it under one arm, looking at the man with a satisfied air.]

I suggest you find the nearest charter ship and start on an illustrious new career. Before we change our minds.

Edited 2016-10-17 20:17 (UTC)

[Fenris shifts his stance, tenses. For a moment it looks like he's going to make a dive for the slaver anyway. Just tear his heart out right now- they got what they wanted, and Fenris feels they owe the man nothing. He takes in a deep, shuddery inhale, letting it out through his nose. ]

That suggests mine was changed to begin with.

[The man glances between them, before turning tail and booking it through the station. Fenris very almost goes after him, glaring at his retreating form. The elf has never been that great at second chances. Still. He lets the man live.

For now. Later? Perhaps not. He hasn't decided yet. ]

Bigger prey to hunt, Fenris. Stay focused.

[He holds up the book.]

This has enough information to take down what looks like an entire slaving ring. We can let one desperate little idiot go if it means taking out the people paying everyone. If no one's going to get paid for it, no one's going to deal in slaves any longer.

[He flips open the book, licking his thumb to flip the pages to something he's looking for, knowing he's being a bit sharp with the elf for all his remaining frustration over their argument. After a short moment, he casually gestures towards his staff and a mote of light starts glowing from the dragon's mouth so he can more easily see. A bit more page flipping and Wolfe's expression brightens.]

Ah, here we go. Look, the same name is listed on more than half of these payments.

[Wolfe holds the book up so Fenris can see.]

...You have a point.

[He'd still rather hunt the man down and end it....but no, Adawolfe is right. Bigger prey to hunt. Better to cut off the head of the dragon, than slice away at the dragonlings surrounding it.

He leans in to squint at the pages, his lips silently mouthing the letters, sounding them out in his head. ]

This is...actually brilliant. I- did not think of it...or at least that it was not possible. It seems you have proven me wrong.

[He stands back from the book again. ]

So this is the man we need to deal with.

Seems like. Let's see if there's an address.

[He flicks through the book again, characters dancing in the light of his staff, proud of himself for not crowing to Fenris about his clear right-ness. Hopefully it just scores him enough points so he'll be able to have a frank conversation with Fenris later. A calm one, preferably.]

Mm...

[He turns back to the inside cover, wondering if the slaver in question is stupid enough to put an 'if lost return to' inscription in the front. Of course he's not that stupid, to Adalwolfe's disappointment, but there are indented letters pressed into the flat cover with no ink. A transfer of the pressure from a piece of paper written on using the book as a surface.]

Huh. Do you see anything to write with around? I think I've got something.

[It sure does, somewhere a small Fenris Slightly Approves appears in the cosmos. Good job, Adawolfe, good job.

Fenris' brow furrows softly at the question, as he shakes his head. ]

I do not. I don't practise my letters away from the ship.

That's alright, I think I can make it out.

[Maybe. He squints at the inside cover, bringing it very close to his face to try and make out the letters by stafflight. He's lucky it's a small note or it would have taken him ages. As it is, he has to take several long minutes.]

I'm pretty sure it says Dock 94, 0200.

[Adalwolfe looks up for a moment, thinking, then at Fenris.]

If he's using military time, he may be a former soldier. We'll need to be ready. Not that I need to worry about you when it comes to these kinds of people.

[Fenris takes note of this, nodding once. ]

Hm. I'll be able to deal with them. They are badly organised at best, I doubt any of them would be able to stage any real resistance.

Edited 2016-10-18 21:15 (UTC)

You're probably right. They clearly haven't run up against any resistance here before in what they think is their territory. We shouldn't have too tough a time, especially with both of us.

[He pointedly looks at Fenris, knowing he's already trying to weasel out of having Adalwolfe along for whatever reason. Well, okay, not whatever reason, he could probably guess a few reasons quite handily, but that doesn't mean he's going to let Fenris walk alone into a den of slavers who might have anything from pointed sticks to laser guns. He may be frustrated with the elf, but he's not going to let him die, as unlikely an outcome as that is.]

[Fenris looks surprised, in all honesty. They hadn't ended things well, the last time they spoke. The elf had decided that Adawolfe had given up on him entirely. That the crack between them had turned into a chasm neither could breach again. ]

...You do not have to feel indebted to help me.

[His tone is quiet. Unsure. His anger, as it usually does, has simmered after the heat of the moment. Not that he's going to forget what Adawolfe said to him in a hurry- he's exercising caution there. He just didn't expect the man to risk his life to help him in any capacity any time soon. ]

I'm not, I just don't like these bastards any more than you do, nor am I going to let you walk into a dangerous situation like that alone. You might have a big sword and those tattoos, but it doesn't mean you can't be overwhelmed.

[He sounds like Aveline a bit, he knows. They'd rubbed off on each other after so many long years of friendship. Whenever they'd argued, Varric had always cheekily winked and lamented that 'mum and dad shouldn't argue in front of the children'. He'd stopped when Aveline got married, but it still amuses Adalwolfe.]

Even if I'm... frustrated with you, it doesn't mean I don't care what happens to you.

[There, he said it.]

[He DOES sound like Aveline a bit, and that thought brings a tiny upturn of his lips. There's comfort in it. That Adawolfe cares. He knows there are a lot of problems between them- but this is...something. He doesn't take it lightly, or without care. ]

I-

Thank you. The concern is...appreciated.

[He's not good at this. Words. ]

I would not wish harm to come to you, either.

[That is true, at least. Fenris does a lot of things, but lying tends to not be one of them. He's good at telling it how it is. ]

Oh no?

[That's surprising. Not because he thinks Fenris wishes harm to him specifically, but he's made his opinion on all mages quite clear and Adalwolfe's being a mage is so tied up in how he defines himself that Fenris thinking all mages need to be locked up or dead is tantamount to wishing him harm.

But that's not how Fenris means it. He's not sure the elf even sees his own hypocrisy. Mages are all dangerous and terrible. Except the ones he decides aren't. Only doesn't Wolfe himself feel the same about Templars? it has more to do with their personal experience that color their views than anything else.]

Sorry, that was uncalled for.

[He lets out a sigh, setting the book down for a moment and slouching against a convenient desk so he can look Fenris in the eye.]

Can we talk? I want to clear the air.

[He doesn't. Fenris' hypocarises are something he's never really paid attention to. He doesn't let himself think about them. Lest he confront the fact he lets magic into his life again at all, after swearing not to. Fenris doesn't lie to others, but that doesn't mean he doesn't lie to himself.

He lets out a slow breath, shifting uneasily. He knew it would come eventually. A part of him wants to bitterly shoot back that Wolfe stopped their last conversation, the anger flashes in his eyes, just for a moment. Then, just as quickly as it came, it dulls and the elf drops his gaze to the floor. ]

...If you wish.

I owe you an apology. I overreacted to your talking about Bethany. I know I get a little... well, a lot overprotective, considering, and regardless of what I think what went on, you didn't tell me that to make me angry. You were trying to comfort me, weren't you?

[He smiles. It's a little thin and a lot hurt, but that hurt is tempered by understanding that it wasn't Fenris' intention to make him feel that way. That's the thing about Wolfe is he can usually see himself in the position of the person whom he's talking to. It's why he always tries to follow a more diplomatic path. How would he feel if he were tossed in a Circle? If he weren't a mage and blood mages killed his family? Stole his entire life from him? He understands, and that makes it hard to stay angry. Hurt, no, he'll endure that to the end of his days, but anger he can't hold onto for long because intention always matters, and Fenris at least didn't intend to make him feel like this.]

So. I'm sorry. I know you must be having some complicated feelings too, considering Marian. I can't have made it easier.

[He looks up, surprised. He was expecting another lecture, by now he would have had to have spoken to Marian. Fenris imagined the man would have had some choice words about her- about how he handled her blood magic.

...But Adawlfe didn't, and for a second, the elf struggled to find words. Derailed. ]

I- yes. That was my intention. [A pause. ] I meant what I said about Bethany, Adawolfe. She is a fine woman. Back in my version of Thedas, she was the first mage to teach me that not all of you are like the monsters I knew in Tevinter. I am proud to call her a friend.

[His Hawke was a rogue, Betahny was the only mage in the family, after their father. Other than that, he had Merrill, Anders- neither of which he got along with, both of which had rather gaping flaws of their own. Bethany... Bethany was decent. She used her magic for the benefit of others, understood its power, and how important it was to control it. He misses her, in all honesty.

His mouth forms a thin line at the mention of Marian. He can feel his heart twist painfully, and he hopes it doesn't show on his face. ]

Marian is-

[He doesn't know what Marian is. He just feels betrayed and hurt and tired. He doesn't know how to handle her, how to handle all that has happened between them. He rubs his face, exhaling.]

Thank you. For the apology. I am sorry if I belittled the circle. It was not my intent.

I know, and I do appreciate your trying. Bethany always was a very special person, she had that effect on people, to sort of... I don't know, calm things down. Make things sort out in your head, and it had nothing to do with magic.

[He runs a hand back through his hair, looking off to the side for a moment, lost in memory instead of the conversation. He smiles tightly again when he comes out of it after a moment.

He didn't miss the mention of Marian garnering a reaction, if only because he notes that Fenris goes more still. He's usually very fidgety to Wolfe's recollection, checking his shoulders, the bottoms of his feet, looking around for anyone sneaking in behind.]

I talked to Marian, I think you should know. She's angrier at herself than anything, and she's told me she doesn't intent to use blood magic again.

[He levels his gaze at Fenris for a long moment, thinking hard, trying to put himself in Fenris' shoes. Or rather, his bare feet.]

It's the lying that hurts though, I'm sure. You've known her all this time and didn't know this.

[He does know a little about loving someone who betrays you, Fenris.]

...Yes. I believe that is a skill all of her own.

[Maker knew how many petty fights she defused. Especially when Garrett seemed wholly focused on fighting and arguing with everyone he came within five feet of. She had her work cut out for her, quite frankly.

Wolfe would be right. Fenris is usually fidgety, he has even more reason to be so now- with the slavers crawling everywhere. But Marian... it's enough to still him, to make him focus. He could have guessed she'd swear off it, but could he trust her to keep to that? He...honestly doesn't know, and it hurts him that he doesn't.

But he knows she's hurting more, and he can't stand that thought. ]

I did not. And neither, it seems, does the me in her Thedas. She hid it from me. So I could never decide how to deal with it on my own accord.

[She took that choice away from him, in not letting him know. ]

Fenris, you're a smart man, but also a vocal one. You've never made your disdain for the practice of blood magic a secret, and she'd used it well before she met you to protect her family. I'm not saying that was the right choice, nor that lying was either, but you can at least see how she'd be frightened of bringing it up, can't you?

[He shifts his weight, not quite pleading but close to. He feels like he's stuck in a proverb, the one about leading a horse to water but not being able to make him drink, and he treads carefully because of it.]

I don't know if I should be telling you this, but she loathes herself for ever using it. Desperation can lead anyone to the wrong choice, mage or not, but at least take into account that she has the sense to know it's wrong and want to stop.

[Another pause.]

And you have the chance to decide what to do now, at least. My advice is not to squander that chance. Even if you're angry with her now, it's not going to get resolved without talking about it.

[Fenris for his part listens. Really listens. Of course she'd hate herself over it. It had killed her mother...Adawolfe's mother, Garrett's too. That horrible part of their history seemed to remain the same.

He IS angry, angry that she hid it from him (yet knowing exactly why she'd do it) but he is already well aware what road anger takes him down. He already drowns himself in it regularly, if he succumbs completely...

Well. That's how Adawolfe ended up killing him. He didn't want to become that...some crazed rabid animal, just like Danarius wanted.]

...I know.

[He's tired. Tried of fighting with everyone. Tired of being so damn angry all the time. Tired of everything. He knows that time is never finite here. That one day, she will leave here- or he will, and that will be that. She'll return to her own Fenris and he-

Well. He'll just be alone, whichever way the dice fell. But he's not alone now, and that is something he knows he should be glad for.]

I'll talk to her. I- understand her reasons for it. I'm still angry but...

[He frowns looking off down a hallway, back to the shifting uncomfortably, then. ]

She deserves the chance to speak, at least. To clear the air.

[He'd expected a shut down, honestly. Thought he'd gone too far with their still complicated and fledgling camaraderie, or too late since the gloom of Wolfe's first admission to Fenris here in the fleet over how the elf's blood is on his hands already still hangs over them, but he's trying and what's more Fenris is trying and that undermines anything that Cole or Anders has said regarding whether Fenris is worth his time.

Wolfe brightens considerably, alight much like his staff despite the gloom.]

Thank you. I mean, really I'm not the one who should be thanking you, but on her behalf I suppose. Not that it's my place.

[Apparently he'd used up all his good words and now the drivel at the bottom of his conversational bucket is all that's left, but he can't help but be pleased. He stands off the desk, about to clap Fenris on the shoulder but thinks the better of it as touching Fenris suddenly never ends well and turns it into some kind of awkward brush through his hair instead.]

So! Glad we had this talk. Should I meet you at the entrance to the space-dock nearer the time?

[Fenris was teetering on a shut down. But many people have spoken to him, over the last few weeks, about his anger. What it will do to him if he lets it devour him. ]

I still have a long way to go.

[He can acknowledge that. It's still there, festering inside him, all that hate. Hate that Danarius and his ilk put there, hate that filled in the gaping holes in the memories of the person he was, before he became the wolf. It would be easier to succumb to them, but that would be letting Danarius win. Even years after the man being dead, he would still have a hold on Fenris- there would never be true freedom.

He watches that...awkward display, and a smile tugs at a corner of his lips.]

Thank you, Adalwolfe. I admit, I underestimated you. I am glad we had a chance to speak, also.

[He's not a complete mess of a Hawke after all, it seems. He gives a nod. ]

Yes, that would be a wise idea.

Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

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