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Although she knew that the pain would fade, Hawke couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Even thinking about the fact that Fenris had these markings ALL over his body, let rage grow deep inside of her. She would make sure that this bastard magister who called himself Master regretted what he had done to the elf.
The thought came from a part inside of her which was attracted by the warrior, in a way she had never been attracted by another man before. Another part inside of her, namely the part which had always been aiming for power, at least as long as she could remember, told her that in this case she would have never received the information that such a ritual even existed; a ritual that had created the man Fenris was today.
Deep inside of her a mixture of jealousy and adoration was evolving: Jealousy because the elven warrior had so much power and was still complaining always and everywhere about it; adoration because she understood now what he had experienced and how much strength it might have cost him to stay sane.
Her eyes went to her face in the mirror. It was the face of a woman who would prove that she could be as strong as Fenris. But contrary to him, SHE would be thankful for her new abilities.
When it was over and the pain disappearing – after minutes, or maybe hours – she was ramming the dagger into the desk top and watching what she had done.
Her fingers were shaking, and her heart beating wildly. Five lyrium markings were covering the back of her hand, ending at her fingertips; lyrium which she had injected into her skin during the last hours.
It had taken a long time until she had been able to get the Tevinter book she had been looking for, with the help of her own research and Isabelas contacts. It had been taking even longer to study it, in the evenings after missions.
But now, while winter was coming over Kirkwall and snow was falling outside, she had finally found the time to do it. Aveline was on a mission in Starkhaven, so her mother, who had already shown first signs of sorrow, would not be able to call the guard captain for help; neither did she know where her other friends lived. Well, except of Fenris, but Valerija doubted that Leandra Hawke would ask the runaway slave who lived in a borrowed Hightowner mansion for help. What would the neighbors say…?
Well, hat probably wasn’t very fair. Leandra had always treaded Fenris with gentleness. But she had also treated him like someone she did not fully understand and maybe also feared…
A sharp pain behind her forehead let Hawke grab the carafe standing next to her on the table and pour water into a glass. Cursing her weakness, she was lifting the glass to her mouth and took a sip.
Leaning back she closed her eyes. Breathing…. resting… only for a minute…
“VALERIJA!!”
Cringing, she opened her eyes. Her mother’s voice had woken her up. Leandra sounded no longer worried like the last times when she had come to her door, but close to hysteria instead.
Tired and irritated Valerija closed her eyes again. Her mother could not understand what it meant to be a mage, and that every weakness could directly lead to one’s downfall.
Her father would have understood. He had always asked her to find her limits, only to overcome them.
“Valerija, love!” This time there was a pleading sound to her mother’s voice. „I am really worried about you…“
„I am FINE, mother!” she hissed. “Just leave me alone, will you? I haven’t turned into an abomination if this is what you fear…”
Silence, followed by a sob and the sound of her mother leaving.
Valerija rubbed over her forehead. Later she would apologize, but right now she needed to find out if it WORKED. Would the lyrium in her system improve her skills??
She had always been like that; always looking to enhance her power, her abilities and her skills. Neither Anders, nor Fenris – her two biggest critics – understood that she wasn’t at any risk by this desire. She had rules, and she NEVER broke them.
All she wanted was more power out of her own body and soul, so no demons promises could seduce her.
When she was using blood magic, she did it always with her OWN blood.
And when she wanted to know how lyrium felt injected into her body, she made a self-experiment...
Her surrounding suddenly became blurred while her body started to process the lyrium. In the meantime she had completely lost her sense of time, so maybe her mother was right to be worried…?
Valerija was waking up after having fallen asleep again. Her hand was aching and felt strange, but when she looked at it, she saw that the wounds already had healed. Frowning, she watched the markings which could be seen clearly under her skin and tried to activate the lyrium.
At first nothing happened… and then everything at once. In front of her eyes, the lyrium was coming alive and covered her face with blue light while behind her the door to the balcony was ripped open and a furious elf stormed into her room, bringing snow and coldness with him….

Description

Although she knew that the pain would fade, Hawke couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Even thinking about the fact that Fenris had these markings ALL over his body, let rage grow deep inside of her. She would make sure that this bastard magister who called himself Master regretted what he had done to the elf.
The thought came from a part inside of her which was attracted by the warrior, in a way she had never been attracted by another man before. Another part inside of her, namely the part which had always been aiming for power, at least as long as she could remember, told her that in this case she would have never received the information that such a ritual even existed; a ritual that had created the man Fenris was today.
Deep inside of her a mixture of jealousy and adoration was evolving: Jealousy because the elven warrior had so much power and was still complaining always and everywhere about it; adoration because she understood now what he had experienced and how much strength it might have cost him to stay sane.
Her eyes went to her face in the mirror. It was the face of a woman who would prove that she could be as strong as Fenris. But contrary to him, SHE would be thankful for her new abilities.
When it was over and the pain disappearing – after minutes, or maybe hours – she was ramming the dagger into the desk top and watching what she had done.
Her fingers were shaking, and her heart beating wildly. Five lyrium markings were covering the back of her hand, ending at her fingertips; lyrium which she had injected into her skin during the last hours.
It had taken a long time until she had been able to get the Tevinter book she had been looking for, with the help of her own research and Isabelas contacts. It had been taking even longer to study it, in the evenings after missions.
But now, while winter was coming over Kirkwall and snow was falling outside, she had finally found the time to do it. Aveline was on a mission in Starkhaven, so her mother, who had already shown first signs of sorrow, would not be able to call the guard captain for help; neither did she know where her other friends lived. Well, except of Fenris, but Valerija doubted that Leandra Hawke would ask the runaway slave who lived in a borrowed Hightowner mansion for help. What would the neighbors say…?
Well, hat probably wasn’t very fair. Leandra had always treaded Fenris with gentleness. But she had also treated him like someone she did not fully understand and maybe also feared…
A sharp pain behind her forehead let Hawke grab the carafe standing next to her on the table and pour water into a glass. Cursing her weakness, she was lifting the glass to her mouth and took a sip.
Leaning back she closed her eyes. Breathing…. resting… only for a minute…
“VALERIJA!!”
Cringing, she opened her eyes. Her mother’s voice had woken her up. Leandra sounded no longer worried like the last times when she had come to her door, but close to hysteria instead.
Tired and irritated Valerija closed her eyes again. Her mother could not understand what it meant to be a mage, and that every weakness could directly lead to one’s downfall.
Her father would have understood. He had always asked her to find her limits, only to overcome them.
“Valerija, love!” This time there was a pleading sound to her mother’s voice. „I am really worried about you…“
„I am FINE, mother!” she hissed. “Just leave me alone, will you? I haven’t turned into an abomination if this is what you fear…”
Silence, followed by a sob and the sound of her mother leaving.
Valerija rubbed over her forehead. Later she would apologize, but right now she needed to find out if it WORKED. Would the lyrium in her system improve her skills??
She had always been like that; always looking to enhance her power, her abilities and her skills. Neither Anders, nor Fenris – her two biggest critics – understood that she wasn’t at any risk by this desire. She had rules, and she NEVER broke them.
All she wanted was more power out of her own body and soul, so no demons promises could seduce her.
When she was using blood magic, she did it always with her OWN blood.
And when she wanted to know how lyrium felt injected into her body, she made a self-experiment...
Her surrounding suddenly became blurred while her body started to process the lyrium. In the meantime she had completely lost her sense of time, so maybe her mother was right to be worried…?
Valerija was waking up after having fallen asleep again. Her hand was aching and felt strange, but when she looked at it, she saw that the wounds already had healed. Frowning, she watched the markings which could be seen clearly under her skin and tried to activate the lyrium.
At first nothing happened… and then everything at once. In front of her eyes, the lyrium was coming alive and covered her face with blue light while behind her the door to the balcony was ripped open and a furious elf stormed into her room, bringing snow and coldness with him….