The Splintered Road - Chapter 19 - Ahrorha, Reinamarieseregon (2024)

Chapter Text

Happy Mother's Day, everyone.

I hope you have time to read with two chapters coming your way :)

I thank my fellow writer and friend Reinamarieseregon for proofreading these chapters. Your input has been fantastic. 💗

It is incredible how one fandom can connect people all across the world, and I am looking forward to more discussions about our favourite elves. ;)

I also want to thank all who are still reading this fic and have left comments and kudos.

Chapter 19



Three weeks later, in the countryside of Ferelden, somewhere between Denerim and Redcliffe, Fenris sat silently next to a small fire. After having awoken from another nightmare, he was nursing a bottle of alcohol. Not that he drank too much, but it took his mind off his dark thoughts. He couldn't allow himself to be drunk because he was hired to protect this small caravan of merchants and passengers to Redcliffe. The pay was lousy because he was an elf, but Fenris didn't care. It was a means to go from A to B, although he had no goal to reach.

The other caravan members quickly discovered his foul mood and left him alone. They didn't care either way; he was there to do a job, and Fenris gladly took care of the occasional bandit on their way.

Most nights, he spent silently at a private fire, mulling over the events that happened. Like now, he had woken up from another nightmare. He got them more often after he had killed Hadriana. They ranged from Danarius punishing him for killing his apprentice to seeing Yssil's lifeless body drained of blood because Danarius needed it to find and control him. Other times, Fenris had hurt her himself in a fit of rage.

Yssil... if there ever was a time he wanted to undo a day, it had to be that day. Guilt couldn't even describe the deep self-loathing he felt about what he had done. He should have never put his hands on her.

Fenris didn't know what came over him at that time.

It was like a haze of anger and violence had taken over his mind. He could only see betrayal and danger, even from the one person he trusted the most. The one he wanted to protect above all else. And he had grabbed her in a fit of rage.

His stomach twisted at the memory. He had lost control, and only he was to blame. This anger and hate were festering in him like a rotting disease, and he wished he could be free from it. It weighed on him like heavy shackles, and at this moment, they were heavier than the shackles of slavery he once carried.

He had used this anger for many years to survive, to best the hunters, to stay free, but this wasn't a way of living. He wanted to be happy, and he was for a moment. Until he had ruined it.

Fenris was sure Yssil would never forgive him, especially after what she had experienced in her life. The things he had thought about and screamed at her.

Now that he had time to think about the events, some things had become clearer to him.

He understood that Yssil was also a victim in this. She had been a means to an end for Danarius, one of the many materials used in the ritual that created his markings. He couldn't blame her for that. It was Danarius' deed, not hers.

Yet he couldn't shake one pit of doubt. Could it truly have been a coincidence that they met in the wild? Two random elves meeting each other... How could it not be a sick plot of Danarius?

Like the thing with his supposed sister, with how eagerly Hadriana spewed the information, he was sure it was a trap.

But there was also Hadriana's surprised reaction when she saw Yssil. It could have been faked, but he knew Hadriana was a lousy actor.

And thinking about how Yssil had treated and cared for him, and the patience she had shown him. Her love... It couldn't be an act.

He looked at his markings where the lyrium and her blood were trapped in his skin. It was no wonder his markings were reacting to her magic the way they did. Her blood answered to her magical energy as something familiar. It didn't reject her magic but welcomed it.

It was the total opposite of the magic of other mages that felt intrusive and painful, as it didn't belong there.

He suspected her blood had also helped him survive the ritual of receiving the markings. Her blood would have acted like a buffer against the extreme magic his body was exposed to. At least Danarius always boasted about the power required to create the markings. Fenris also knew there had been other subjects before him, failures that didn't survive. Danarius had more than once held lectures, where Fenris had to stand naked in front of Danarius' colleagues while they listened with great interest to Danarius' boasting.

Of course, Danarius never disclosed too many details for fear of others copying his success. The longer Fenris thought about it, the more unsurprising it was that Danarius would use blood. For one, he was a blood mage, but he was also fascinated with the history of the vallaslin. The design of the markings was proof of that.

But why did it have to be her blood?

Fenris also couldn't explain why Yssil hadn't sensed her blood when she came in contact with his markings. Wouldn't she know it instinctively, or was that only something blood mages could do? He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how he spewed the accusation towards her. She hated blood magic as much as he did. She would never...


Fenris reached for his bottle again, but it was gone. A steaming cup of tea stood in its place. He looked up and saw an old elven man sit down across from him, holding a cup of his own. Fenris knew the man had only joined the caravan a few days ago.

“I find that tea is a more enjoyable beverage on nights like this.” The man smiled and looked up at the stars.

Fenris observed him. There was nothing remarkable about the man. He wore brown travel robes, his long white hair was swept to the side, and his demeanour was very calm and composed.

Reluctantly, Fenris took the tea and sniffed it. He recognised some of the herbs. Yssil used them often in her blends.

“It is a soothing blend that my wife Senna used to make.” The old elven man explained. “Nothing that will make you drowsy, but something warm and good for the soul.”

“Used to?” Not smelling anything poisonous, Fenris took a sip. The tea tasted lightly sweet and was very fragrant. It reminded him of the ones Yssil made for him when he had drunk too much once again.

The man smiled, remembering his wife. “She was the love of my life. Sadly, she passed away three years ago.”

“I am sorry.”

“She had a good life, and I am grateful to have shared so much with her. But she had too much heart. The Blight took its toll on her. One day, she just didn't wake up from her nap.” He took a sip of his tea.

Fenris mimicked him; the tea was soothing, and he could feel his stomach was grateful for drinking something different than alcohol.

“Have you been to Redcliffe before?” the man asked.

“No, I haven't. It so happens this caravan goes that way.”

“I make this trip every year. My Senna's grave is close to Redcliffe. We used to live there, and she loved the rolling landscape and its nature. I visit every year to pay my respects. I am not Dalish, but Senna and I always tried to honour the old ways.”

Fenris face went sombre.

Would he do the same in a few years?

Anders had given Yssil only four years, one or two more if she got lucky.

“I know that look. You're concerned about someone. Someone you might have hurt?”

Alarmed, Fenris glared at the man. How did he know why Fenris was here? His hand automatically went to his weapon. But the old elven man raised his hand in a calming manner.

“My apologies. I didn't mean to alarm you. Let me explain. My name is Harlen. I am a healer. I work at the Loghain Asylum for former and current soldiers who have served during the Blight. Queen Anora established it after many soldiers suffered from the effects of what they encountered during the Blight and the battle at Ostagar. Many of them have the same look as you when they arrive.”

“You have a special place for soldiers?”

“Yes, many soldiers displayed troubling behavioural changes after the horrors of the Blight. You are not the first one I encountered who tries to hold the demons away with alcohol. And I mean demons in a figurative way. Many struggle with addiction, fits of anger and nightmares. It is not surprising. The Blight was a terrible ordeal that swept over Ferelden. People had to do things they normally would never consider. Many minds were left with scars that only slowly heal.”


There was something about the way Harlen talked that had a calming effect on Fenris. If Harlen had experience in treating anger, maybe...

“You... what you do with those soldiers. Does it cure them?”

“I won’t say it cures them. What one has experienced and seen can’t be undone. But we help them deal with their trauma and fears in a more healthy way. To not focus solely on what happened to them but rather on what life has to offer. We try to teach them to control their trauma and not let the trauma control them. It is not an easy process. We have only been operating for three years, and healing takes time, but we have had successes. Men and women who have reclaimed aspects of their lives that they lost.”

Fenris was intrigued, especially by the idea of taking control. He never wanted to lose control as he had with Yssil ever again.

“You are welcome to take a look and stay for a while,” Harlen said. “We welcome anyone who needs help, and you look like someone who could use it.”

“Is it that obvious?” Fenris huffed.

“You have been drinking every night, and I hear you whimper when you manage to sleep. Whatever burdens you is affecting everything in your life.”

Fenris couldn't believe he was considering going to a place of healing, but he was tired. Tired of this hate that resided in him. “I need some time to think.”

“Of course. We still have ways to go to Redcliffe, and we can talk more during our journey there. But may I suggest you try and stop drinking. Alcohol will only make things worse for you. I am willing to share my tea and evenings with you to keep your mind from the worst of the darkness.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“Of course, may I ask your name?”

“Fenris... My name is Fenris.”

“It is nice to meet you.”


Over the next two weeks, Fenris spent time with Harlen. Slowly, he opened up about his past. He kept it vague at first, but Harlen was a patient listener. Fenris could tell that Harlen had experience with guarded people, poking him just enough, so he said a little more. As much as Fenris had a habit of concentrating on the bad things that had happened to him, Harlen asked him about the good. What Fenris liked, what made him happy.

Yssil was mentioned in many such conversations, making Fenris only more aware of how much she meant to him.

During this time, Fenris also noticed his body reacting to the absence of alcohol. He had a rougher time than he expected, staying off the drinking. He knew he had built up a bad habit but never thought it would have such consequences. Apart from the mental desire, he had trouble sleeping, but Harlen kept him company, and his tea helped Fenris to calm his nerves. Rather than giving in, Fenris fell back on his training regime. He was a warrior; discipline and focus were something ingrained in him.

But he was glad the worst physical reaction was behind him when they finally reached Redcliffe.

However, Harlen warned him that he had to stay strong to not be tempted back into drinking. His body may have recovered somewhat from the drinking, but the most significant challenge was staying off the booze. He had to stay mentally strong and not fall back on old habits. But Harlen assured him he would learn at the asylum.

Being at their destination, Harlen invited Fenris to stay with him until he returned to his home at the asylum, and Fenris accepted. After talking so much with Harlen, Fenris wanted to give this asylum a try. He already noticed that talking with Harlen was calming and that Harlen's questions forced him to rethink his opinion about many subjects. Despite the nickname Varric had given him, Fenris had never realised just how much it was his habit to think negatively about a lot of things. And Harlen's questions forced him to look for something different.

Each conversation they had, followed a same pattern. One of them would bring up a subject, and Fenris would give his thoughts, which were mostly negative at first. Harlen then encouraged him to look at the subject differently and find something positive.

It was a strange way of approaching things, but somehow, Fenris was intrigued by this process. There were times things would get heated and defensive, especially if they concerned his past. But Harlen's calm demeanour managed to redirect his anger to more manageable proportions.


A couple of days after they arrived at Redcliffe, Fenris accompanied Harlen to his wife Senna's grave. He stood watch as Harlen cleaned it and said his prayers. Seeing the man so devoted to his late wife was both sad and beautiful. On their way back, Fenris' thoughts turned to Yssil once again.

“Do you believe in coincidence?” he asked.

Harlen thought for a moment. “I do. Most random events in life are not planned after all, like how we met. I didn't expect to meet someone whom I could aid.” He looked at Fenris. “But you have been hovering around that subject for a while now. Why does it bother you?”

Fenris didn't want to reveal too much about his markings, so he kept it vague. “I told you about my past in Tevinter. My former master still sends hunters after me to reclaim me. On one such occasion, I was suddenly aided by my... friend, but then we were strangers. I discovered later how much connection she had to Tevinter.”

“And now you are wondering if your former master has something to do with it?”

Fenris nodded.

“Let me ask you. The place where the hunters attacked you, was it an ambush?”

“No, they had been trailing me for days, and I turned to the forests to shake them off.”

“And couldn't Yssil have aided you sooner?”

Fenris looked at him, and Harlen gave him a knowing smile. “I guess it is her you are speaking of.”

“Yes, and yes, she could have helped me sooner.”

“So, if she was sent, why didn't she?”

Fenris didn't say anything in reply, so Harlen asked something else. “You told me you have been together for years since then.”

Fenris nodded again.

“Then why didn't she betray you sooner? She had your trust, lived in your home, and could have done a number of things to let your former master know where to get you. Come, let's sit down and talk about this.” Harlen sat down on a small wall next to the road. “It is my experience that people can fake many things. But spending years building a friendship, a relationship. That is a commitment. I can see someone do that out of ideology, like a spy. But to be just paid to do something, it had to be a pretty serious compensation.

And with how you describe her, I can't imagine her desiring something so much. You told me she lives an almost quiet life and is not as adventurous as your other friends. What would she, with her personality, gain from betraying you?”

Fenris was quiet. He could only think of one thing that Danarius could have offered, and that was an apprenticeship. But Yssil also didn't like using her magic. He had never seen a mage who relied so little on her powers. So why would she ever want to be an apprentice? Especially to such a foul master as Danarius.

He could imagine she would say yes to escape, but there was also the issue of her valuable blood. If Danarius had wanted to scheme something like this, he could as easily have picked a fake Yssil.

Fenris shook his head. Now that he had thought about it, he couldn't imagine anything Danarius had to offer. Not to her.

“There is your answer.” Harlen smiled at him. “You have learned to trust her. Trust your feelings. It is understandable and valid that you doubt sometimes. But I think that your doubt is misplaced this time.”

Fenris closed his eyes and took a long breath. “But I ruined everything. I was so angry, I couldn't see anything else. And I... I hurt her. She will never forgive me.”

“That may be the case.”

“So, what do I do?”

“I want you to know you are not the first who has hurt his partner in a fit of anger. And I don't know if this is a simple case of apologising. Especially because you are not over your anger yet. You are just beginning to try and approach things differently. Healing is a long and slow process. If I were you, I would write a sincere apology letter to her and explain where you are and what you are planning to do. Being honest is often the best course of action.”

“I will think about it.”

Harlen nodded, and they resumed their path, not knowing Fenris' plans would change drastically.


Fenris sat in the Gull and Lantern Inn that evening, waiting for Harlen. He was minding his own business when he overheard talk from the neighbouring table.

“Have you heard about Kirkwall?”

“No? Why?”

“There was a group of Qunari there. They tried to take over the city. Many are dead.”

Fenris immediately jumped to his feet. Taking a page out of Hawke's book, he went to the bar, bought two pints and went to the table.

“What is this about Kirkwall and Qunari?” Fenris sat down and gave them the drinks. It felt awkward and not as smooth as Hawke would have done it, but the two men didn't seem to mind.

“Oh, thanks, mate.” They took the drinks and continued their discussion. “It is the wildest story. Those Qunari were shipwrecked years ago and stayed put. No one knows why they didn't leave. And now they suddenly attacked. Killed a whole bunch of people, including the Viscount.”

“The Viscount is dead?” His table mate asked.

“They sliced off his head in front of everyone. Heard it tumbled down the stairs with his crown.” he motioned with his finger across his neck. “They would have killed a whole lot more if it weren't for that hero. He had a kind of bird name. He bested the leader of the Qunari in a dual.”

“Hawke? Was that man's name Hawke?” Fenris asked.

“Yes, that could be. Hawke, like the bird. He killed that beast despite it being twice his size. Got almost killed himself during the fight.”

“Didn't the other ox-men interfere?”

“No, they stood there and watched it happen. They didn't even flinch when their leader fell. Rumour has it that they just nodded to the hero and left. Suddenly, there was a ship, and they all boarded, leaving no trace but the burning rubble of the fights.”

His table companion huffed. “You can't trust those ox-men. What about the Templars? There is a Circle in Kirkwall, certainly they could protect the city.”

“They did. They protected the citizens, and their Knight-Captain was on the front lines. But that Viscount, he was stupid enough to allow Qunari to stay in the city in the first place. If you invite the enemy, expect trouble. You can't trust those horned beasts. First staying put for years and then attacking out of nowhere.”

Having heard all that he needed to know, Fenris managed to say. “Thank you.” He quickly made his way upstairs, where Harlen and he had a room.

Hastily, he started packing his things when Harlen came inside from bathing.

“Fenris, what is wrong? Why are you packing?”

“Kirkwall. The Qunari have attacked the city, and many are dead. My friends were involved in the battle. I have to return. I need to know if they are all right. I need to know if Yssil is all right.” Fenris strapped his gloves and armor on.

“Fenris, take a breath. Think for five minutes. Are you sure you want to go? You will have to face everyone much sooner this way.”

Fenris paused and sat down on his bed, thinking. It would take him weeks and a significant amount of money to return to Kirkwall. And yes, he would have to face Yssil and everyone sooner. And once there, what would he do? Would he just say hi and travel back to Ferelden to go to the asylum? That would take more money, money he needed in case he had to escape again.

Or would he stay in Kirkwall and try to face his demons alone? But he didn't know if he was capable and strong enough for that. What if he failed? What if he did something again that he would regret?

“You can send a letter. Ask everyone if they are okay.” Harlen suggested. “You were thinking about writing anyway as soon as we were at the asylum.”

Harlen was right; Fenris could write, but what to do if the news was bad. What if he could do something? And with the Viscount dead, there would be a power struggle in Kirkwall. With Meredith at the head of the Templar order, she wouldn't hesitate to take over. It could become more dangerous for Yssil to live there. But she needed to stay there because of Anders, and that abomination wouldn't run away from his blasted mage's plight campaign.


Fenris shook his head. “No, I have to go. I need to see her. I need to be there. The Templars will take over.”

“I understand.” Harlen got a piece of paper and wrote something down. “But are you sure you want to go this route?”

Fenris nodded. “Yes, I am sure. I will stay away from the drinking.”

“The drinking is only the beginning. Try to find someone who you feel comfortable talking to. Maybe another healer. Here, this is where I live. We can exchange letters if you are struggling with something. It isn't the same as staying at the asylum, but it may help. You are, of course, always welcome to go there.”

“Thank you for everything.” Fenris took the note and stored it safely away.

“You are welcome. You still have a long journey ahead of you. Remember, be honest with yourself, and there is no shame in asking for help. I wish you all the best.”

They shook hands, and Fenris left to make the long journey back to Kirkwall.


It took Fenris over two weeks to reach Kirkwall. First, he bought a horse to reach Jader; there, he boarded a ship to Kirkwall. He heard more rumours on the way. There were stories about many victims, damage to the city and civilians being trapped. It added to Fenris' nerves because he knew how bloody and ruthless a Qunari attack could be. But there was also hope. There were enough stories about Hawke's heroism in defeating the Arishok that he believed that his group of friends was okay. But still, he needed to make sure.

When he set foot on the docks in the early morning at the beginning of August, it had been over two months since he left Kirkwall, and returning here felt strange.

In such little time, the atmosphere in the city had changed. As he walked through the city, traces of the fighting could be seen everywhere. People were still cleaning up after the fires that had raged during the attack. Some buildings were damaged, and masons were busy repairing toppled walls and breaches. He also saw an increase in patrols of both City Guards and Templars, probably to show the citizens that they were back in control.

As Fenris approached the abandoned mansion, he took a deep breath. He was nervous about facing Yssil. He knew he had a lot to apologise for, and he felt that. But when he entered the mansion, everything was deadly quiet. Going to her room, he found it empty. Gone were her things, her plants, and some of the furniture.

Everything looked neat and clean but empty. Fenris squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he had pushed her away. She was gone, and it was his fault. Dejected, he went to his room. It was as he had left it, with the traces of his attack lying on the ground in a violent mosaic of shards.

He had no idea when Yssil had moved out, but knowing her, she wouldn't have lingered with him being so aggressive. For a moment, he was at a loss. He wanted to make sure she was alright, but what if she didn't want to see him? He didn't even know where she was. Heavy-hearted, he made his way to Lowtown to the Hanged Man. If anyone knew, it would be Varric.


Still early in the day, the Hanged Man was empty. Varric didn't sit in the common area, so Fenris went to his private room. Varric was seated at his table, surrounded by papers and letters. Fenris gave a quick knock to gain his attention. Varric looked up, and for once, he didn't have his usual easy smile. Instead, Varric's face went more serious.


It felt cold and distant that Varric didn't call him Broody. It was another indication of how much he had messed up.

“Varric.” He sat down at the table.

Varric sighed and gathered his papers, then took a good hard look at the elf. Fenris' body language was a reflection of his low spirit.

“Well, at least you feel bad about it.”

“I do. I know what I did... I wasn't myself.”

“What were you thinking, elf?” Varric raised his voice. “She has the same sh*tty past as you. Even if you were furious... How could you be furious at her? How could you do something like that?”

“I don't know. My anger, it took over. I couldn't control it... I know it is not an excuse. What I did is unforgivable.”

Letting out another sigh, Varric shook his head. “Well, Cherry made me promise not to say anything to the others. Of course, they know something went down, but she managed to hide the worst of it. But I warn you. If you ever raise your hand at her again, I will personally set Bianca on you.”

“I deserve nothing less. Is she okay, then? I heard of the attack.”

“She is.”

Fenris let out a sigh of relief. “What about everyone else?”

“Our little band is mostly intact.”

“That's good.”

“It was quite a mess. Turns out that Isabela's famed relic was the Tome of Koslun.”

Fenris looked bewildered. “That tome is sacred beyond measure for the Qunari. How did Isabela ever get her hands on that?”

Varric sighed. “I don't know. We hadn't exactly much time to discuss things. Tevinter mages were here to pick up that bloody thing. The Qunari joined the party, and Isabela snatched the book and disappeared.

You can imagine the reaction of the Arishok. Suddenly, he gave the order to attack, and the Qunari swarmed the city. It was clear they had planned this for years with how efficient they were. We fought our way to the Keep but were too late to save the Viscount. Hawke tried to talk to the Arishok when Isabela suddenly turned up again, tome in hand and returned it. She blamed Hawke for her change of heart.

We thought the matter finally settled when the Arishok demanded we hand over Isabela. Hawke wasn't so keen on that. In the end, they battled it out one-on-one. Hawke barely managed to win and was afterwards declared Champion of Kirkwall by Meredith. But the damage to the city was done. I guess you have seen the traces on your way here.”

Fenris nodded. “I have. Where was Yssil?”

“At work, she joined the dwarves in defending the dwarven trade district.”

Fenris smiled. “She barely could handle a genlock in the beginning, and now she takes on the Antaam.”

“At least you did a good job teaching her the blade.”

“Can you tell me where she lives now? I want to apologise to her. I owe her that.”

Varric shook his head. “It is not my place to give you that information. And she isn't even here at the moment. Hawke has taken her and Anders to Château Haine.”


“Another story. After the battle, Isabela broke things off with Hawke, and with all that Champion of Kirkwall thing going on, Hawke needed a break. So, he is aiding an elf in stealing something back. The Château is from some pompous Orlesian Duke. It is a good distraction for a heartbroken Hawke, and with Cherry being in the same boat, she went along. I suspect they will be gone for another two weeks, give or take.”

Fenris squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of regret hit him. Yes, he had broken Yssil's heart..., and he didn't know if he could ever mend it.


It took Yssil a little longer than two weeks until she finally saw the walls of Kirkwall again. She was glad to be home after the whole debacle at Château Haine. She had had enough of Qunari and Orlesians for a lifetime. Never had she imagined fighting Qunari so soon again after the Arishok decided to take over Kirkwall.

She had been in the dwarven trade district when the fighting started. The dwarves didn't care who was sitting on the Viscount's throne, but they hated it when something interfered with commerce, and a Qunari attack fell clearly into the latter category. So, almost everyone grabbed a weapon and set up perimeters to protect their stores and warehouses. Yssil had joined them. She had used her magic for the first time so openly, and she feared that it would have repercussions. Not that she cared at that moment; she just did her best. And the dwarves seemed to appreciate her help and healing magic. Afterwards, Gavil told her she wouldn't need to worry about the Circle; they would have her back.

When it all was over, she quickly checked on the others. Of course, Hawke hadn't sat idle during the attack, but Yssil was amazed that he bested the Arishok in a dual. That he was declared a Champion was an obvious result. Hawke saved a lot of nobles that day, elevating the name Hawke to one of great importance in an instant. Varric had told her Meredith wasn't too pleased, knowing Hawke's opinion about mages' rights. But the Knight-Commander did what was right.

Yssil was totally surprised by Isabela's involvement and her being the reason the Qunari were in Kirkwall in the first place.

Not wanting to face the heat, Isabela disappeared a few days later, leaving a confused Hawke behind. It was clear that he took her not trusting him at heart. Around this time, Yssil revealed she had moved out of the abandoned mansion. Everyone took it as a clear sign she had broken up with Fenris after his outburst, and Hawke took it upon himself to provide her and him with distractions.

“We dumped people need to stick together,” he told her one evening at the Hanged Man when he clearly had drunk more than his fair share.

And so she was invited to go to Château Haine to get distracted. A trip that resulted in Yssil developing a clear distaste for Orlesians. It was gross how they treated and looked at her like she was some plaything the Champion had brought with him. The Orlesians acted as if they were so superior it was almost laughable. The aura of decadence and fancy boredom that hung over the Château was on another level, like a bad, heavy perfume you couldn't get rid of. She couldn't believe how people could act that way, and she couldn't believe how easily Hawke and Tallis played along with it all.

Now, they were finally home. Yssil watched Hawke give Anders a cheeky kiss. That was another thing she couldn't believe. How quickly Hawke had switched from being dumped by Isabela to Anders. Anders had flirted hard with Hawke during the journey, and when they halted at an inn a few days ago, the two men sealed the deal. They acted like two love birds ever since. Seeing them so happy sent home how deep the wound was Fenris left in her. She missed him but with how he treated her, she wanted nothing to do with him. He knew everything about her, and he still accused and attacked her. He switched just like that. She fought against her tears, thinking about how he glared and screamed at her. Like all those years they spent together meant nothing.

With a heavy heart, she said goodbye to Hawke and Anders and went to her home.


“Yssil. You are back.” Feha greeted her, tending to her flowers in front of her and Gavil’s home. Yssil’s new home was close to theirs.

“Yes, I am. And I won’t be going away again anytime soon.”

“Was it that bad?”

“I now understand why everyone says ‘Orlesians’ so dramatically,” Yssil laughed. “They truly live in another world with how they act.”

Feha giggled. “They are obsessed by their decadence for sure. I don’t understand them either, but they have good money. Let me tell you a secret. Gavil uses the most absurd descriptions for his teas and herbal mixtures when he sells them to our Orlesian clientele. Like nettle tea is something for commoners, but ‘Fresh Sprouted Urticaceae First Pick’ is divine. It is the same thing and good for cleaning your blood, but it has to be fancy for them.”

“If they pay more, they can have a fancier name.”

“That they do, that they do. Oh, before I forget. That elven lad of yours came by a few times looking for you.”

“Fenris is back?”

“He is. Do you want me to tell him off and ban him from the store?”

“No, that isn't necessary,” Yssil said, shaking her head almost absent-mindedly. To be honest, she had not expected him to return. She thought he would look for a new place to stay; now, it was clear Danarius was still hunting him. A wave of uneasiness hit her, thinking about what he wanted from her. He had made his opinion about her more than crystal clear. And she was done with him, with how he acted and the accusations he spouted at her.

“Thank you. I will talk with him when he returns,” Yssil said with a forced smile. “Is it alright if I pick up my shift again in two days?”

“I will tell Gavil. Take a rest.”

In thought, Yssil went home wondering about Fenris. Where had he been the past months? And how should she act when she saw him? She was still angry, but her heart also ached thinking about him. She needed to steel herself when they would meet again.


Whatever Yssil expected, it wasn't what happened a couple of days later. She was at work when Gavil came in the back, saying Fenris was there to see her. Collecting herself, Yssil went outside to meet him in the alley next to the store. As soon as she saw him, she felt her anger and guard go up. Using it as a shield, she faced him.

Fenris shuffled nervously on his feet when he finally saw her. His heart clenched when he saw she glared at him with cold eyes. Gone was her ever-present smile and warmth, which he was so used to seeing from her.

“Hey,” he said, not knowing where to start. He had imagined seeing her again a hundred times, but now his mind went blank. “How are you?”

Yssil scoffed. “How am I? Is that really what you are going to ask?”

“No, I... I am sorry.”

“You are sorry?”

“I am. How I acted towards you, with Hadriana. I was not myself after the hunters ambushed us. I... I was very cruel to you. I am sorry for everything I did.”

She looked away for a moment, collecting herself. “Fenris. What you did...” she shook her head.

“I know it is unforgivable. I should never..., especially with you. I apologise.”

“I don't know if I can accept that.” She was surprised at how stable her voice was while her heart ached.

Fenris looked at Yssil. Her whole body language was defensive and closed off towards him. He had to accept it. He had broken a trust he didn't know he could mend. Harlen was right. It would take a lot of work if he ever hoped to regain any form of friendship. But he also knew he wasn't ready. He needed to change; he needed to get control over his anger.

“You shouldn't,” he said. “At least not now.”

What does he expect? Yssil questioned herself. Like this was something easy to fix. “I think it is best we go our separate ways. You can help Hawke like usual. They don't know what you have done; only Varric has seen it. The others think we simply broke up.”

“Thank you. I promise to do better. I know what I am.”

“No,” she breathed. “That is exactly what's wrong. You are not a what. You are a who. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see not the warrior or your markings. I see a man trapped. You are trapped by your past. And I have seen the other you, the man who is happy, caring and lives in the present. But the way you acted and just forgot everything we went through.” She shook her head. “I can't... I can't do this anymore. I wish you all the best.”

Feeling herself shaking, Yssil went back inside the store. She was glad with what she said to him, but it hurt. Seeing him again made it clear to her how much she still cared for him, but at the same time, he hadn't changed. She couldn't be with him as long as he was trapped in the past.


Defeated, Fenris watched Yssil go back inside.


He had lost her. A thick cloud of silence hung around him as the consequences of his actions slammed into him. He had chased the one who cared most for him away. And he couldn't say anything to make it better.

He wanted to tell her that he had stopped drinking, about Harlen, and how he wanted to change. But those were empty promises if he didn't persevere. She deserved so much better than anything he could give her. He needed to change, to gain control, and to let go of his past once and for all. Disheartened, he went to his next stop and apologised to Hawke for disappearing like that after Hadriana.


Shaken, Yssil went back to work. It was busy with deliveries going out today. Various places required a monthly shipment of herb blends and teas, like the Blooming Rose, which needed a tea that prevented births. The City Guard required a more potent blend to keep them awake and alert during their night shifts. Noble families had their personal blends, and the Chantry always asked for an assortment of milder teas for various ailments.

After making sure she was okay. Gavil asked her to accompany the deliveries to ensure all customers were still satisfied with their chosen products.

So it came that Yssil was in the Chantry a little while later. She had spoken to the sisters already and was about to leave when she found herself staring at the massive statue of Andraste, surrounded by a vast number of candles. A question lingered in her mind. Did the gods or the Maker truly exist? And if they did, why would they allow such chaos and cruelty to exist in the world?

“Yssil. It is good to see you. I suspected you were back, with Hawke having returned.”

“Hey, Sebastian. I am good, and you?”

“I am also well. I couldn’t help but notice seeing you in the Chantry more often in the last months.”

“I am here for deliveries. Many sisters order special blends from my work.”

“Ah, yes. You work for one of the dwarven merchants from whom we get supplies.” Sebastian turned to look at the statue of Andraste. “But I noticed you gazing at the statue of our dear Andraste on most visits. You know you can always talk to her. The Maker will listen.”

“I don’t look at her because I want to talk.”

“Why not? Many elves believe in the Maker. It may be that your past experiences have... soured your faith.”

Yssil felt very uncomfortable with what he was suggesting. “Excuse me?”

“Traumatic experiences in life can shake one's faith. But know that the Maker is always at your side.”

“I know you are trying to be subtle, but I wouldn’t call my life a couple of traumatic experiences.”

Sebastian quickly said. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to make it sound trivial.”

“I know you meant no harm. And I don’t know.” Yssil looked at the statue of Andraste again. “I guess I am wondering how people still can believe with everything going on in the world.”

Sebastian followed her gaze, though his look was one of pure devotion. “The deeds of mankind are not that of the Maker. The Maker can only guide us to trust in him and live according to Andraste’s teachings. Her faith is a guiding light to all of us.”

“I admire your commitment. I learned quickly to rely on myself with all the sh*t that has happened to me.”

“The Maker never gives us more than that we can carry.”

“If that is the case, the Maker can stay away from my life.”

Sebastian looked slightly taken aback.

“I mean no offence,” Yssil explained. “But all the things I had to endure. He or she can have them back. Also, if god cares about us so much, why is the world such a mess. When I look at the Blight. He punishes everyone for a few that supposedly wronged him. Then there is that stance of the Chantry about elves being further away from the Maker, stripping the Canticle of Shartan because it doesn’t suit them. And don’t get me started about magic and mages. I know the Chantry is run by humans and, thus, per definition, flawed by their nature. We have seen it with all this fanaticism around the Qunari. I just don’t know if god or gods exist or have ever existed. Like I said, the world is a total mess.”

“You are right; humanity is flawed. That’s why we must stand strong in our fate and trust the Maker.”

Yssil shook her head.

Sebastian smiled. “I see I won’t convince you today.”

“I doubt you will ever convince me.”

“Faith is not an easy subject for most. Would you allow me to bless you?”

She was unsure if a blessing would help, but this day could hardly get more difficult, so she accepted.


A few hours later, she regretted that thought. She would think twice in the future before accepting another blessing. For starters, the noble houses she visited had a slew of complaints about the blends that were precisely what they ordered. Of course, those complaints were accompanied by a string of racial slurs and accusations addressed at her. It took a lot of patience for Yssil to remain professional. Then, she was almost assaulted at the Blooming Rose by a group of patrons who thought she was one of the new girls.

In short, Yssil was tired and drained at the end of her work. But she wasn't finished for the day. She had an appointment with Anders for her check-up.

Anders was a little more upbeat this time and chatted with her during the exam. But things turned sour when he was writing notes in his log.

“So, I heard Fenris is back.”

Yssil took a long breath. This day was getting better and better.

“I hope you won't get together with him again now you have moved out.” Anders continued. “Hawke told me how he acted before he disappeared.”

“I don't plan to.”

“Good. The things he yelled at you. I knew he wasn't right in his mind. He is a man driven by his hate. I don't understand how you could love him in the first place. He let one bad experience colour his whole world?”

“What?” Yssil couldn't believe he had just said that. “You think a life of slavery is one bad experience? You can't be serious.”

“What I said isn't wrong. All he can see and think about is that Danarius. What could be so bad about serving a magister?”

She couldn't believe she was hearing right. “You hypocrite!”

“Why? He condemns all mages just because of his experience with that man.”

“You want to call years of forced servitude and abuse one bad experience? You have no idea what we faced as slaves. What if I called your life in the Circle as just one bad experience?”

“They are not the same!” Anders raised his voice. “ What mages suffer in the Circle's is inhumane cruelty.”

“And slavery is what, some sort of voluntary choice?” she glared at him. “You have no idea what it means to be a slave.”

“I do. I was part of the Circle.”

“Don't you dare compare your life to slavery. Do you even hear what you are saying? You are so absorbed by your stupid mages' rights that you can't see anything else.”

“Mages' rights aren't stupid!” He yelled. “You should support everything I try to do for our cause. If it were up to people like Fenris, all mages would be caged and enslaved. He would see you enslaved again. He is out of control.”

“No, you are out of control.”

“How dare you!” Anders' eyes started to glow. “I am actively working on setting us all free. You have no idea what it's like to be subjected to the Templars.”

“Yet, you still are okay after you escaped how many times? You are still alive and not made Tranquil.” Yssil knew it was a low blow, but she didn't care. Why were all people today seeing slavery as something trivial?

“YOU! You are as bad as a Templar.” Justice had fully taken over Anders, and he loomed over her.

“ANDERS!” Hawke suddenly appeared and pulled him back. “Anders, CALM DOWN! Yssil, go!”

Yssil didn't need to hear that a second time and quickly left.


If there ever was a day she should have stayed in bed, it was this day. Frustrated and tired, Yssil made a quick stop at the Hanged Man to talk with Varric, mainly about Fenris and what he had said to her. She planned to leave before anyone else arrived for the evening, but she wasn't in such luck. Hawke and a calmed down Anders came inside, followed by Fenris when she went down the stairs.

Yssil groaned; these were precisely the people she tried to avoid.

“Hey,” she said on her way out. She didn't want to talk any further, but Anders took her arm.

She glared at him, but he whispered. “We need to talk. Please. Outside.”

“Fine.” she jerked her arm free and walked past Fenris without looking at him.

Outside, she walked to a quieter spot with Anders following her; neither saw that Fenris went after them.

“What do you want?” Yssil sighed.

“I want to apologise. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I couldn't contain Justice. I am sorry.”

She huffed, another person, another apology. This day was the worst.

“Anders, this has nothing to do with Justice. It hasn't been for a long time. Whatever that thing is inside of you is no longer the spirit you knew.”

“I know. My anger. It changed him forever. I wanted to help a friend.”

“No, Anders. You did it for power. Justice could have returned to the Fade. You could still have met him in your dreams. He could have advised you as a friend should. But this thing. It convinced you to merge with it like a demon would have. If I were you. I would look for a way to separate you both.”

Anders was silent, so she said. “Thank you for the apology. I better go now.”

She went toward her home and groaned when she noticed Fenris trailing her. Knowing he would follow her until she was safely home, she continued. When she finally reached her door, she addressed him without turning around.

“Now you know where I live. Did you need anything else?”

She could hear him shuffling on his feet.

“No. Are you alright?”

Turning around, she honed a laugh. “Am I alright? Let me think. My former lover, who accused me of being a blood mage and working together with his bastard of a former master, returns after months with a simple apology.”

Fenris looked at his feet as he felt the sting of her words.

“Then I had a sh*t day at work. After that, I get into a fight with Anders, trying to defend my former lover against Anders' hypocrisy. And to finish everything off, you ask me if I am all right. No, I am not.”

He didn't dare look at her. He wanted to comfort her, but it was no longer his place.

“And what is it to you?” Yssil continued, her voice loaded with venom. “ You have clearly stated what you really think of me deep down. So please, just leave me alone.” She opened her door and slammed it shut.


Fenris stood a while in front of her door, defeated. Seeing her so hurt drove home how badly he screwed up. He wasn't the person she relied on any longer, and feeling that hurt.

He wanted to change that. At that moment, he promised her he would change—not only to her but also to himself. Determined and with a plan in mind, he went to see Donnic. Harlen had said he needed someone he could trust and talk to, and Donnic came to mind immediately.

He and Donnic had a heartfelt talk that ended with Donnic gripping Fenris' shoulder.

“Of course, friend. Whatever you need.”

Afterwards, the two men went to Sebastian, and that night, the three men cleared out the wine cellar, throwing away every single bottle. Fenris was determined to keep his promise to Yssil even if she didn't know what that promise was.

Over the following weeks, Fenris picked up his life. It was strange to go on without the constant support of Yssil. Where once she was an ever-present part of his life, there was now a glaring hole. It wasn't easy to deal with, and he caught himself longing for alcohol more than once, but he didn't give in to the craving. He was determined to change his life and become the person he wanted to be. He wanted to be free, not driven by the anger and hatred created by his past.

The thing Yssil said to him about not being a what but a who had cut deep. It resonated with what Harlen already tried to tell him. He had been so focused on the past, a past where he was a what, that it consumed his life. Instead, he wanted to become the person Yssil saw in him. And that wouldn't be easy.

At this moment, he had no hope of ever reconciling with her, but he wanted to become someone who could be relied on—a caring person who thought about the mundane things in life and not solely about the past. A person who was content, happy, and not driven by fear, hate, and anger.

Fenris soon realised just how difficult that change would be. Alone with his thoughts, he was his own worst enemy. Some days, he wanted to crawl out of his skin to escape the dark clouds in his mind. He longed for the fogginess that alcohol provided, but he managed to persevere. Instead, he drank tea and many nights, he found himself wandering to Yssil's old room, reminding himself of the happiness he once had.

But most of all, he was diligent in his training and the mental exercises Harlen advised him to do. It was challenging to do them, but luckily, he had some help. Donnic and Sebastian were a great support. From the start, he had a long talk with them about what he should do. Going to Ferelden to Harlen and the asylum was still an option, but in the end, Fenris decided to stay in Kirkwall.

In the short time he was back, Fenris could already tell the atmosphere and political arena in the city were shifting. And as he predicted, it shifted in favour of Meredith and her Templars. Everyone could see and feel the change that slowly settled in. Templars were seen more in the open, and the City guard felt the pressure of their ever-more-pressing demands. Even Fenris found himself being stopped and questioned on a few occasions when a Templar sensed the magic trapped inside his markings.

Fenris wasn't comfortable leaving Yssil alone in the city. He knew it was obsessive and selfish of him to stay because of her, but he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.


Having apologised to Hawke, Fenris soon went on missions again. And on the side, he began training some of the City Guards. Aveline had asked him to train Donnic and a few hand-picked guards. At first, Fenris was reluctant to agree, but Sebastian encouraged him. Once he started, he enjoyed the discipline.

He needed the occupation. It helped him build up a routine, and he felt like he was doing something productive in his life.

Fenris also started to write regularly with Harlen. Donnic helped him with the rather personal letters. He found it difficult to express his struggles and formulate what he needed to move on. But as more letters left Kirkwall, it became easier for him, mainly because he looked forward to Harlen's responses. Of course, it was not as helpful as having honest talks with the man, but it was something. The letters contained enough advice and encouraging words for Fenris not to become disheartened.

There was also something else that he did. He couldn't shake the thought and the hope that his supposed sister was real. Even if it was a slim chance, it was a chance for him to fill the void of his memory loss. He looked for ways to contact her in secret. Though he was sure it was a trap, something in him wanted it to be true that he had family. It was a risk he was willing to take in the hope of answers.

More than once, Fenris caught himself fantasising about the boy he once was. He wanted to get to know that boy, to know his dreams and hopes. A boy who trained hard to achieve something. He wanted to know who he was to his sister, to his mother and father, and how it came that he was chosen by Danarius.

He longed for an aspect of normalcy. Everyone had childhood memories, and he wanted to have them, too. For that chance, he would risk the potential danger of Danarius.


Fenris wasn't the only one who adapted to a life without the other.

Yssil had her own struggles. Somehow, it was easier when Fenris was missing. Now he was back, she had a hard time avoiding him. Deep down, she still cared for him, but he had shattered the trust between them, leaving a deep ravine between them. One she couldn't see mended in the future. That he was back resulted in awkward situations. She didn't know how she should behave when meeting him. Also, whenever Yssil joined the others in the Hanged Man, she would catch Fenris' longing looks, which she was so familiar with. Seeing him reminded her of all they had shared, but these memories often ended with the deep hurt he left in her.

It resulted in her spending less time with the whole group and seeing them more individually. Instead, she found herself spending more time with her colleagues and neighbours. It was nice living and working in the dwarven district. It was relatively safe for Kirkwall standards, and she was less targeted with racism.

Yssil wasn't the only one of the group facing an awkward situation.

Isabela showed up again and joined their group after making a sort of apology. She was sorry for creating the mess but also held a grudge for losing the relic and, with it, the leverage to gain the freedom of the men from her past. She seemed taken aback by Hawke's action of starting a relationship with Anders. Of course, Isabela acted as if she didn't care, but Yssil could tell she wasn't happy about losing Hawke despite her claim that it was just a casual fling they had. Yssil noticed that Isabela focused her attention again on getting a ship and dreaming of a life at sea with a crew.

With Hawke and Anders in a relationship now, Hawke took a stronger stance on mages' rights. This didn't go unnoticed by both Knight-Commander Meredith and the First Enchanter of the Kirkwall Circle Orsino. It was clear to all that they would try to use Hawke's influence with the nobles to shift their opinion in favour of one or the other.

In short, the dynamics in their small circle of friends had shifted, and although they all stayed friends, things weren't the same as before.

The Splintered Road - Chapter 19 - Ahrorha, Reinamarieseregon (2024)


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Chapter 19, “Mess”

Possum explains the rules of mess. Cal notices how the girls and boys are separated during mealtime as well. Cal also notices how the staff tables seem better than the student tables. The staff get gleaming utensils and glassware, while the students get dull utensils and mugs.

What happened in chapter 20 of Two Roads? ›

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Chapter 17, “The Dorm”

Possum shows Cal where he will sleep, and Cal wishes he was anywhere but at Challagi. Possum asks Cal if he is missing home. Cal says no, but then explains that he is missing the road. Cal and Possum have a brief conversation about Pop and Cal being hoboes.

Why do they walk at the end of their journey in Chapter 19? ›

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Chapter 19 Summary

Crash's parents both arrive home—it's only 5:20 p.m.—and Crash learns that Scooter will be staying with them indefinitely. Crash is overjoyed. Scooter, an ex-Navy chef, always cooks something delicious out of whatever he finds in the kitchen.

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Chapter 22, “Another Day at Work”

Cal is thinking about how he has written letters to his father but cannot send them because he does not know where to address the letters. Cal's work at the harness shop has caused calluses to form on the palms of his hands. Possum muses that maybe they can work in shoe repair today.

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Chapter 24, “Stomp Dance”

The boys sneak out into the woods, where they feel fully free of Challagi. Deacon, one of the guys in the gang, leads the gang in stomp dances and singing. The first night Cal joins the gang in stomp dancing, he is given the task of starting the fire, and the job sticks with him.

What happened in chapter 21 of Down These Mean Streets? ›

Chapter 21 Summary: “Hung Down”

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What happened in chapter 23 of the two roads? ›

Chapter 23, “To Help Indians”

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What happened in chapter 25 of two roads? ›

Chapter 25, “First Letter”

Cal recognizes Dakota and Blackjack, the two horses Pop and Cal helped the cowboys load onto the train to transport to Challagi. The Creek instructor approaches Cal, makes a comment about the pinto, Dakota, being familiar with Cal, and introduces himself as John Adams. Cal and Mr.

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Gist of chapter 10: Cal and Pop demonstrate their talent for handling horses. Their help wrangling the horses earns them a meal. Gist of chapter 11: Pop teaches Cal about survival at Indian school—march properly, eat quickly, and fight fairly. Cal continues to struggle with his half-Indian identity.

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Gist: Cal begins a friendship with Possum. Possum teaches him some Indian words; Cal shares his books. Possum shows Cal a safe place to store his valuables to protect them from school staff. Direct students to recall the second part of the chapter, starting on page 170 with “Follow me.”

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Cal catches a glimpse of students going into buildings and students working. The superintendent speaks at length about the animals in the livestock barns. Cal reflects that no students acknowledge his presence, and he is glad of that fact because he does not want to be there in the first place.

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Summary: Chapter 19

When Cuckoo sees him approaching, however, she says scornfully, “Ah, it is only the farmer!” Stung, Wang Lung angrily shows her a handful of silver. She quickly takes him upstairs to Lotus. When he sees the beautiful young girl, with her tiny hands and “apricot eyes,” he becomes mesmerized by her.

What happened in chapter 19 of The Dead and the Gone? ›

In Chapter Nineteen, on December 27th, the electricity comes on and after washing, Alex and Julie decide to again look for Bri. They reach the elevator and push the button, as Julie remarks the elevator should already be on their floor. Alex realizes the problem too late, and the elevator doors open to Bri's body.


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