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meowsgirldrawing · 5 months

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Fenris, meet Brivia...and her magic!

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“Let’s see here…” Dorian’s finger traces under his chin, brow deep in ponder as his eyes trail over the books, “Would ‘Serah Mastry’s Relics’ be a best match? Or perhaps ‘History of the Soulistic Elements’ serves better?”

The woman next to him thinks hard, thumbing through the first’s description.

“Maybe…the second? I was hoping to find out more on the Elemental factors, not really a collection in vagueness.” Hawke decides, nodding fairly.

Dorian’s reaction is nothing but understanding, putting away the others and helping her to find a few more. Never can be too safe- especially when dealing with the magical arts well known to both.

The only non-mage in the room stands meters away, posed against a wall pillar. His face, specifically his green eyes, is drawn into absolute boredom. And maybe a tad of untoned anxiousness. His fingers tap along his dark coat, his left foot- the one on the ground- taps silent beats on the floor, the rest of his body tense.

Fenris, while having moved on for himself from his past of Tevinter for the most part, still doesn’t enjoy being back in his ‘home country’. Maker knows how he and Hawke were even able to sneak into Minrathous just to speak with the former Inquisitor’s deemed best friend, all in the hopes of finding specific items for a friend of their own.

Honestly- A mage and a lyrium-adorned elf.

It would’ve sent tongues wagging and swords- or staffs- drawing if they had been seen.

Anyhow, after explaining the situation to Magister Dorian Pavus, an apparent ‘good’ Magister- Fenris remains to keep his eyes on him, no doubt the mage feels it so- he graciously guided them to one of his main libraries, quick to grab a good few well known on the shelves.

The elf is silent in his sigh, dreading how slowly time is passing. Hawke seems quite the opposite, given how she and Dorian burst into a small fit of laughter

His ear pricks up at footsteps.

With head-turning jadedly, his thoughts turn sour.

There's a young girl, who can't be older than 8, clinging to the hand of a servant elf. They pause somewhat in the doorway, at the little girl’s tug that has the older one bending down to hear her better.

Fenris feels a frown pulling at his already lowered lips. He doesn’t recall any mention of children. Recalling his knowledge of Tevinter in the past, children were only there as child slaves or, undecidedly fortunate or not, children of older ones. Even then, most didn’t stay in the hold older than 2 years old. Much less 8. Magisters’ usual tendencies involved the selling of such age groups for either extra coin, felt they were a waste of space, or had other Magisters offering to buy them for ‘reasonable’ prices for whatever reason they sought for. The youngest slave you’d see actually working when they were at the age of cognitive mindsets. 12 and up.

Any younger age was deemed too hard to deal with as they would have to ‘raise them’.

But…albeit this Magister Pavus doesn’t own slaves, at least- he was known to have freed all the ones he could in his family’s name, giving them the opportunity to still work but be treated as hired workers, or shown availability to leave and find work outside.

Then why is the little-

Fenris stares at the scene. The girl’s long, brown curls bob lightly. Her giggles faint to his ears as she points up at a picture, her mouth moving in a possible question perhaps.

The older woman flickers her eyes up, taking a good look, before turning back and answering whatever it was with a gentle smile.

They almost seem like mother and daughter.

Satisfied it seems, the two go forward, continuing their walk without a care.

Fenris remains ever curious.

Until now, he’s been in control of himself. Even his mouth.

Until now, “ Do your servants own any children?”

Hawke and Pavus pause in their search, both gravitating their heads swiftly in his direction.

A part of him winces. The other part doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dorian asks, a trimmed brow higher than default. Hawke blinks. Near crystal blue eyes danced between the two men.

“A child. I saw her walk past just now.”

Dorian stays confused, thinking for a good moment. Then starts laughing. It’s not loud, but it continues to startle Fenris, putting his nerves more… nerve-wracked.

“Oh! Oh, no. None of the Servants have any children. A rare moment in time it seems, usually-”

Fenris stopped listening. He stands straighter as his mind slips to the first thing.

Child labor.

Possibly not the worse thing to actual slaves, but-

The girl is barely 8. If she has no parents, then is he just keeping her for some sake? Perhaps easy persuasion for a servant. She is no human, the pricks of her ear were clear through the curls.

His teeth tense.

Varania was basically raised similarly, raised under a magister’s rule into learning the harsh ways to get around. And to be raised in this place, other than give the child somewhere that will give her a better upbringing-

Before he even realizes it, Fenris made it across half the ground between them. Dorian’s feet hasten him back, arms tensing, “Now- Ser Fenris-”

“Then are you keeping her here for some ulterior motive or do you not have a thought process at all?! Huh!?”

The mage flips to flabbergasted, a twitch agitated at the accusation. “Excuse me?! Brivia-”

“That’s her name? Such a little girl has no need to be in a place-”

“Fenris!” Hawke keeps to her spot mostly; her side bracing a bit in front of the Magister.

He’s not looking at her; seething straight ahead at the pompous wearing ‘ruler’ of this household. He knew it! Even some of the ‘nicest’ ones have something under their tainted sleeves.

His arm flies in a motion that has Pavus flinching and Hawke staring, hard. “You know what happened to Varania, Hawke! How are we so sure he isn’t putting that little one in a similar circumstance!” He spits out. Burning morphs under his skin, the familiar urge of his markings spark to life. Glittering the ground and the closest objects near him in a striking blue tone.

Hawke dips her gaze for a second, catching something behind him. It never clicks in his mind until a presence is closer. The tile a sheer couple of feet from him shifts. His marks crackle at something nearby.

Around he spins, a gauntlet flying to his sword’s hold where it rests in its sleeve.

The girl!

She’s…glaring- no seethes..up at him?

Her ears are pinned to her head as much as possible, full turquoise color glints in her pinched eyes, and her fists are at her sides. On rather an instinct, he recognizes the frost around it.

He follows the trail like a line; leading right down to his booted feet. It’s then he sees the ice threatening to touch. It gets worse as spikes slowly lift from the ground, pointing at his shins.

Fenris’s once furious demeanor flips like a switch. It turns blank, honest to Andraste herself- he barely mumbles, “..Huh?”

Brivia’s lips lift into a snarl. It could almost look..oddly cute. If his legs weren’t being threatened by impalement. God, Hawke’s rubbed off on him too much.

“Don’t. Touch. Papa.”

His green eyes blink. “...Uh…”

In a snap, it disappears, spikes lose their hold from her and start melting, and she skirts past him and up to the Magister.

Dorian has no hesitation in scooping her up, safe and cooing at her softly. Trying to calm her down all while she tightens herself around him as much as she physically can. He runs a hand down her back, soothing circles in repeat,

“I’m not ‘keeping’ her here. I’m raising her here.” He states, a quiet moment before his eyes turn from down at Brivia and then up towards Fenris. He looks like he’s short from glaring at him.

Fenris steps back, “ Wha..”

The probably not too much older man pitches his brow, the other arm holding a tittering Brivia, “I’m her father. I adopted her under a decision between my husband and I.”

“How?” Hawke can’t keep her gaze from the little girl, “I thought-” Her jaw is low.

“There were some laws that people tried to throw at me, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I had my own protection to throw back at them, so- rather unfortunate for them- they had no choice but to let me sign at the end.” His eyes swipe back to Fenris, “I have the papers if need proof.”

“..No-” His eyes are stuck on Brivia’s back. She’s trembling only barely; the strong persona she put up for so long before she cracked in her father’s arms.

Her father’s..arms.

Her father.

“......” Fenris doesn’t have a clue as to what to respond with.

“..I’ve heard bits and pieces of your past, Ser Fenris.” His eyes flick up, meeting the Magister’s.

Dorian’s eyes are full of as much understanding as he can. As much as he can in grand spite of their differences. Not a lick of pity.

Fenris can’t even steel his face. It’s wide-eyed

, likely a little furrow in them, mouth in a thin line. He swallows but keeps quiet.

Dorian leans his lower back into the desk, adjusting his arms. Brivia is breathing calmer now, just hiding in the crook of his neck, pushing down the short, fanned-out collar around the top of Dorian’s outfit. Still, his hand never lets off her back.

“My husband found Brivia during a job and brought her home to us. Not even 2 months later, and I was already getting the papers ready…” His mouth quirks, tilting down, “Isn’t that right, darling? “

A glimpse of her face and she’s pressing down a small smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fenris catches Hawke’s short fidgeting. Her gingerly tapping of fingers, eyes wide but in curiosity at the girl.

Brivia shifts, noticing it.

When he thought she would shy away from it, surely startled by them- she doesn’t. She moves slowly, yes, but eventually lifts her head high enough to see Hawke clearer. Her face was uncertain but just as curious.

A soft, gentle smile spreads on Hawke, “Hello~!” Dorian chuckles in the background as Brivia lifts a little wave. “Hi..” She whispers.

“That was a neat spell you just did!” Hawke can’t help but comment. Fenris’s head twirls, What-

Like- Did you not just see it pointing at my legs earlier?

“The scary elf startled you, huh?”

Hawke, I swear to the maker-

Brivia looks hesitant, a quick eye shift to Fenris then back at her. He holds any face change when she nods.

Hawke coos, lifting an inviting hand. Brivia takes less time now, giving in and grabbing her hand with a significantly smaller, freckled hand. Rubbing her thumb along the back and knuckles, Hawke’s smile remains ever soft. “I’m sorry about that, little one. I promise he didn’t mean to! Believe me or not, but he’s rather nice.”

“A little prickly-”

“But very nice!” Hawke swats Dorian’s arm.

The little girl, if she wasn’t as hesitant as before, she definitely was now. Her gaze turned to him but flickered down, then back up. She can’t seem to stay looking at him long.

Fenris steps only slightly forward. Brivia pauses, but, at Dorian’s help in adjusting, she shuffles in his arms until she’s facing Fenris more. The girl only continues to surprise him concludingly; her chin lifts, bridging high as if she’s suddenly unafraid now. Her eyes switch focus and her lips twirl into a soft pout.

Judging by side perspectives, Hawke catches her hand from flying to her mouth, swallowing her obvious giggle. Dorian’s smile keeps calm but proud, watching for Brivia’s reactions.

“..Hello..” As much as a small part of his attempts for the same voice Hawke used, his voice is soft, but preferably in volume.

“...Hi.” Brivia mumbles through her pout.

“I..” He can feel it, his cheeks heating up under Dorian and Hawke’s gazes. But he keeps his head up, determined to fix his mistake. “I apologize for my actions.”

He ignores the snort from Hawke, “I believed something that wasn’t true….I hope…you can forgive..me?” It’s odd, he’s heard children apologize after running into his legs in the rowdy streets of Kirkwall, never expected to be on the other side of it, minus the running into the legs of the obviously shorter girl.

Not that it’s a pride thing, he can apologize just as well as anyone with a brain. His mind just had never come up with this type of scenario.

Brivia once again pauses, a thoughtful girl at that, then her eyes dart a few centimeters from his face. Before he can glance behind him, more eyes on them perhaps? She lifts a hand, affably trailing it along her ear. “..Your ears look like mine.”

“Yes.” Fenris agrees. Not sure where this is heading.

Her hand breaks from her ear to hover in the air, slightly towards him. Both Hawke and Fenris see what she’s asking without a word.

“Darling,” Hawke says, knowing Fenris’s ideals on touching, “I’m sorry but I don’t think-”

Fenris one-ups her and leans forward, right enough so she can reach. It takes her a second, probably listening to Hawke, but soon he feels small, shy fingers tap on the edge of his ear. They thumb at the curve, where the pointy part resides. Noticing her increased wonder, he manages to give a soft flick. Her hand moves away, but a giggle escapes.

“How did you do that?” Her question tumbles out in the midst of her giggles. As Fenris resumes position, he can’t help the smirk on his face. It’s softer at the edges however, “You’ll learn in time, you won’t even know you’re doing it until someone points it out.”

Eyes that held uncertainty, a spark of fear overpowered by as much anger as a child can have when protective, now blooms in wonderment and surprise, a great lick of joy too. She spins as best she can to her father, patting his shoulder, “ Papa! Papa! Could I move my ears too?”

“Hm…” He playfully scrutinizes her ears, before tsking, “Might be a while, my dear. They are quite short compared to Ser Fenris here.”

Her lower lip puckers out a bit, a low pout as she plays with his collar, “Aww..”

Hawke’s giggle has Brivia look up again, “Buut…” Her fingers nip lightly at her ears, pulling ticklish giggles out again, “They are just as adorable.”

Fenris can’t help but smile, watching the sweet scene.

A Magister who bought and lost a slave.

A Magister who found and kept a daughter.

Two from the same world, both ending in happiness despite their difference.

“Agreed.” He says simply.

#dragon age #dragon age fenris #Brivia Pavus #dorian pavus #female hawke #Dragon age fanfic #Post tresspasser #Oc insert #Dorian is a dad #Magister Dorian

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