A Simple Task, part 16

The landscape around Fenris and Hawke shifted violently, the grey wasteland giving way reluctantly to rolling green hills and a massive dark forest.  The elf was glad to note that he was still essentially himself, though Hawke looked a bit different.  He couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but there was something off.  They walked over muddy ground and damp, springy grass to a small hut at the edge of the forest.  Hawke called out before they got to close, "Osun!  I've come back!  Are you still here?"  In response, the door swung open.  Fenris dearly hoped this man was not a mage or worse, a demon.  He was ready to be through with this place and its illusions.  
Hawke walked in, peering around the dark room; she wasn't afraid, that much was obvious.  "I'm here, Hawke," said a sibilant voice to his left.  He turned to see who this mysterious Osun was.  Before him stood a tall man, lithe and well muscled, with gleaming black hair and dark eyes.  Fenris tried not to stare, but it was hard.  This Osun was beautiful, even by elven standards.  Hawke had been here with him . . . alone.  He heard her laugh behind him; his cheeks flushed crimson.  He spun to face her, intent on anger, but he couldn't hold onto it.  The situation was just too much.  Besides, he couldn't decide if he was more upset about her spending time alone with that man or for mocking his reaction to Osun.

  
The bard for his part seemed oblivious.  "It's good to meet you, Fenris.  I don't see many new faces here.  Wherever that it."  His voice went a little shrill at the end and dissolved into laughter.  Apparently this Osun was mad.  Hawke gave him a look that advised silence.  She patted the bard on the shoulder gently.  "Be calm.  I told you, all will be well.  Why don't you tell Fenris your story while I stoke the fire."  He nodded and motioned for the elf to sit.  Reluctantly, the elf took a chair.  The familiarity between Hawke and the bard was jarring.  She was never so cordial with people she just met, especially under strange circumstances.

  
"As your lady wife mentioned, I am Osun.  I was a bard.  I remember that much," he said, laughing softly at himself.  "I had a wife too, though not as beautiful as your own."  Fenris thought about correcting him; Hawke was not his wife, not even his lover, really, but it seemed best to let the madman speak.  "She was a mage; that much I well know.  I met her when I ran afoul of a barbarian lord.  I think, perhaps, I did aught foolish.  I must have to deserve this fate."  He started to laugh again, madness crawling in his eyes, but he caught it, quieting.  "The lord's name was Conobar, and it was his lady wife I fell in love with.  The night I came to their keep, there was a terrible storm.  Lightning split the sky and thunder shook the earth; rain fell so hard and fast that walking was like swimming.  The guards let me in, laughing at my bedraggled state.  Conobar wasn't going to let me stay at first; he was a harsh man with little love for music or poetry, but his wife . . . she wanted to hear me play.  So Conobar let me stay for the night for the price of a song.  I could have played for her for hours, just to see the look of pleasure on her face.  She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and she seemed so unhappy."

  
He looked at the elf strangely for a moment before continuing.  "When I tried to leave the next morning, she begged me to stay.  I knew if I did Conobar would be furious, so I said no.  It was hard to leave, but I did.   I was only on the road a few days when the barbarian's men caught me.  They accused me of kidnapping his wife and drug me back to his keep in chains. The fact that I was alone meant little to them.  I was in the dungeons nearly a week when she came to me.  Conobar's wife.  She told me that when I left, she hid.  Afraid to leave, and unwilling to stay, she secreted herself in the forgotten halls and deserted places of the old fortress.  The woman professed her love for me, and her desire to leave Conobar.  She said she wanted to travel with me.  Conobar's wife asked for my protection and company, and in exchange she would give me her body and the use of her magic.  She was beautiful and I could not refuse her."


Osun shrugged, grinning.  "We escaped Conobar's castle and traveled as man and wife for many years.  I grew to love her and she me, or so I believe.  Those years were far from peaceful though.  We sought refuge with other lords, but always Conobar's men pursued us.  I think he either loved her very much or had too much pride to let her go."  Fenris nodded, understanding that much at least.  Danarius was like that - unwilling to let any possession go.  "Then he sent other than soldiers to us.  A young noble, the son of one of his banns came and in peace offered a bargain.  If I would return his wife, he would gift me land and titles, and even allow me to visit and play for her from time to time.  I had it in mind to refuse, but the years of running were wearing on her.  It was a just offer, and the best we were like to get.  Though it hurt to agree, I did.  Flemeth was furious with me at first, but I convinced her it was the only way we would ever have peace."

  
"Wait, Flemeth was your wife?" the elf gasped, unable to contain his astonishment.  "You know of her then?"  "She . . . I cannot . . . that is, I did not know she ever married," Fenris stuttered, trying not to offend the bard.  "She is imposing.  For some men that might be off-putting.  For others it is oil to the flames.  Now, as I was saying, we returned to Conobar as guests.  He feasted us in his great hall with all his banns in attendance.  It was grand.  And then when the meal was done and the ale gone, he took Flemeth to his bedchamber and had his way with her.  I was in agony over it, but this was what we agreed to.  A fair deal and done, I told myself.  After, Conobar came to me still smelling of her.  I thought perhaps he wished to taunt me or just to speak, but instead he came with two of his loyal banns, and there under cover of night, they cut off my head."


Fenris had no idea what to say; he looked away from Osun's intense gaze, frightened of the madness he saw there.  "That is what I remember, though now I am no longer sure if it is truth or simply a story I tell myself.  I don't know what happened after that.  I wandered, lost in the Fade for a time and then she found me.  Flemeth created this place for me, although I don't know if it was kindness or vengeance that led her to do it.  I was alone for a very long time."  Osun's eyes grew distant for a moment and then refocused with lunatic fervor.  "And then Conobar came.  Him and his demons.  They hunt me in this place as he did in life.  Sometimes I run, sometimes I fight.  I can remember winning too, though not often.  Now that you and Hawke are here, I'm hoping the odds will change in our favor."  Fenris looked to the mage, wondering what she had planned.  She just smiled back pleasantly.

  
"I'm sure we can help you Osun, but we must also look for a way out of this place," the elf said.  "Oh, of course!  I'll help you with that.  I know where the portal is.  When Flemeth would visit me here, that is the path she took in and out of this realm."  "Then we can escape," Fenris said excitedly.  "We must help Osun first," Hawke interjected.  Her voice sounded curiously flat, and when he looked at her the oddness he sensed earlier seemed magnified.  "Are you alright," he asked quietly.  "She's fine now that you're here," Osun said quickly.  "I was asking her," the elf replied, beginning to worry.  "I really am alright," Hawke said.  It was heartfelt, and Fenris almost believed it, except that at the end, for just a moment, she looked uncertain and afraid.  The elf spun on Osun, ready to tear his heart out.  "Please friend, calm down," Osun said.  "There's no need to get violent."


"What have you done to Hawke?" Fenris snarled.  The bard looked hurt and surprised by the accusation.  "I would never harm such a beautiful flower!  Your lady is fine.  Better than fine.  She is peaceful."  "Undo whatever you have done now or I will kill you," the elf threatened.  "You can try," Osun said shrugging, "it'll hurt and I'll hate you for it, but nothing you do will work.  I can't die."  Fenris put it to the test, shoving a gauntleted fist through the bard's throat. Hawke made a strangled gasp as the man fell back but said nothing.  It was as if some essential part of her was missing.  Osun lay there gurgling and then was still, but as Fenris watched, the wounds closed and he sat up.  "Satisfied?  Your threats are empty.  There is only one thing I'm afraid of, and that's being alone with Conobar for another millenia.  I won't do it."

  
The elf glared impotently, "So we are at an impasse.  I will not let you keep her and you refuse to give her to me."  Osun rubbed his throat, "That hurt, you know.  You're as violent as the barbarian.  Look, I have no reason to hold you here.  It would be nice to have more help against Conobar, but all I really want is company.  I have that without you.   You're free to leave, to go where you wish in this realm or the waking world.  You have my word that I won't try to stop you."  Fenris wanted to put his fist through the bard again, but apparently there was no point.  "I'm not leaving Hawke here with you.  It's out of the question." Though he was positively seething with rage, the elf had to acknowledge Osun had him at a disadvantage.  He knew what afflicted the mage, and worse, all he needed to do was wait.  When Hawke's body died, she would be trapped here with him.  There was no choice but to bargain.

  
Fenris gritted his teeth, "There must be something else you want.  Anything."  "If you think to offer yourself in exchange, put it from your mind," the bard said with a smile.  "I've less interest in you than in her.  Besides, I think your company would grow tiresome very quickly."  "Then what.  What else do you want?"  "Peace.  An end.  But I fail to see how you can offer me that."  "I may not be able to, but if I swear to find a way, will you release Hawke?"  "Why should I?  That would be trading a certainty for a mere possibility," the bard replied, rolling his eyes.  "What if I swear not to seek escape until we've found a way to free you as well?"  Fenris was near tears with frustration and rage.  The bard seemed to consider the proposal.  "I might agree to it, but only if you could give me an oath I'd believe.  I know you could leave anytime, without the portal.  You are not here by the same means that she is.  I would need a very good reason to trust your word."


"I swear it on my life," the elf said without hesitation.  "Worthless.  And forfeit if you remain anyhow."  "My spirit then."  "No, that is no better than life.  Worth less, even, in this place."  Exasperated, Fenris sat down, staring into the fire.  Hawke said nothing, seeming blissfully unaware of their conversation.  "What should I swear by," he asked her, curious if that would focus the mage's attention.  She glanced at him, eyes glazing over.  "Isn't Osun kind?  If we help him against Conobar, he'll help us find the way out of this place."  The bard smiled at him triumphantly, "You see?  She adores me."  "You're wrong.  Whatever you've done to her keeps her from knowing you will not let her leave.  If she knew what you were about-"  "She'd turn me to ash.  I've no doubt about that.  And it would hurt oh so terribly as I waited for my flesh to mend.  Hence the deception.  Mages are so simple to manipulate provided you approach it the right way."

  
Fenris sat back thinking about all the things he knew spirits desired.  The souls of the dead could not be so different from the spirits of the Fade.  They must want the same things - change, emotion, life . . . "What if I offered you my body.  If we don't succeed, you can . . . possess me . . . and I will stay here.  Osun maintained his nonchalant expression, but something in him tensed, posture changing ever so slightly.  "I might be interested in this.  We need terms to make it binding though.  How long must I give you to set me free?"  The elf thought about it.  They had at most three more days before Flemeth arrived.  "Three days in Kirkwall."  The bard smiled, "You are awfully confident.  I will agree to this.  You swear by your physical form to free me from this prison in three days.  If you fail, that body is mine.  Give me your hand."  Fenris held it out gingerly, wondering what Osun had in mind.  They touched and for just a moment, there was a sense of joining.  "It is done."


"What . . . just happened?"  "Nothing you need concern yourself with.  Now, I will release your lady love.  I would ask that you not tell her any of what passed between us though.  I am fond of her and I'd rather not have her angry with me."  Fenris stared at the bard as if he'd lost his mind.  Point of fact, he had.  Then he turned to the mage; she looked much the same, but more herself somehow.  "Hawke?"  "Yes," she replied, looking at him.  Her eyes were bright and focused, everything about her felt inexplicably right.  He pulled her onto his lap and into a hug.  She let him hold her, snuggling against his chest.  "This is nice, if unexpected.  What did I do to deserve this little display of affection."  "Nothing," Fenris said, voice rough with emotion, "I just missed you."

  
Osun coughed politely causing them both to blush.  "I will let you two alone for a bit," he said, making an exit.  The mage watched him go, expression unreadable.  "I don't know what to think about him," she said quietly; "I believe he's lost his mind in this place."  Fenris nodded, "I think you're right about that .  We need to free him from it.  Leaving him here would be cruel."  Though this would be an excellent time to tell her of his bargain, the elf decided to abide by Osun's wishes for now.  Nothing would be accomplished by upsetting Hawke.  "You know he almost didn't let me go find you.  Osun was sure if I left his sight I would never come back.  He seems very lonely.  Poor thing.  I can't imagine why Flemeth put him here."  "I think she kept him here because she loved him," Fenris offered with a shrug.  "I cannot imagine her in love.  Perhaps it was vengeance."  "Maybe.  Does it matter?"  She nodded, "It might.  The Fade is an odd place.  Intention and reality are intermixed here, affecting each other in ways you would never expect.  It's possible to change the very nature of things in this place just by envisioning what it should be, what you desire it to be."  The elf shuddered, "That is a terrifying thought."

  
They left the hut together, walking the edge of the forest.  "Do you have any thoughts on how to free Osun?" Fenris asked.  "A few.  I need to find the Fade portal to be sure, but I think this place is like any other island.  It is warded somehow and that is what traps the bard.  If we can destroy the spirit that maintains the ward, it will shatter and he can go free.  I wish Anders were here.  He and Justice know more about this than I do."  Fenris felt a momentary pang of guilt.  He'd not even considered allowing the apostate to go after Hawke, though in retrospect he might have been more help here.  She seemed to sense his discomfort and leaned into him for a moment, "Don't worry, there's no one I'd rather be trapped in the Fade with than you."  He smiled back, though he still felt rather guilty.

  
They made their way back to the hut and found Osun waiting for them.  "I need you to show me where Flemeth's portal is.  I think it's the key to your escape as well as ours," Hawke told him.  "I've tried leaving that way before.  It only works for the living," the bard sighed, "but if you would like to tinker with it, I will take you there."  They moved overland at an unbelievable speed.  Each step they took with Osun passed over leagues of land, the ground falling away in a blur of green and brown.  He stopped at the edge of an ancient ruin.  "The portal is that way.  Be very careful.  These are lands Conobar claims and he or his demons could be anywhere," the bard warned them, voice a whisper.  Fenris nodded and went with Hawke.

  
Ancient stone monoliths carved with fearsome images bridged the stone walls wherever two joined, so each dark corner had its own leering face shrouded in shadow.  The elf wondered if this was a reflection of some real ruin or the work of twisted Fade spirits.  He hoped it was the latter and not the former.  Surely no one could have ever lived in a place like this.  Hawke didn't seem disturbed by any of it, moving forward with courageous surety.  Up countless stairs and through a winding maze, she led him onward until they made it to the top of a jagged tower.  Once, perhaps, there were floors above this, but if so they were long gone.  Only sharp edged stone and char where they once sat.  "Do you think the portal is up here?" Fenris asked, looking around.  "Well, someone told me once that the anything important will be in the highest place or the lowest.  I didn't fancy a look into the dungeons below this ruin, so I thought we'd try the tower," she replied.

  
This room had several of those awful obelisks and a myriad of statues that looked as if they were brought here from elsewhere.  Some of them were delicately carved, faces beautific.  Others were as carefully detailed but the creatures they depicted were horrific, howling in either torment or rage.  The effect was unsettling to say the least.  "There," the mage said, pointing to a small, tarnished silver plinth set into one of the monstrous forms.  "That is the portal.  You'd think Osun would be worried that we would just leave," she said.  "No, I somehow doubt he's afraid of much," the elf replied quietly.  He could feel a tug in his chest as he said it; Fenris had a feeling if he stepped through the portal he would be carrying another with him, straight into the waking world.

  
"I see the marks of the demons used to seal this realm.  Pride, Rage, and Desire . . . this will be an interesting fight.  I wonder if those are the demons this Conobar travels with."  "I don't know, but I suppose we'll get to find out," Fenris told her.  "Don't we always," Hawke answered with a smile.  "Don't you always what?" asked a gruff voice from behind them.  Fenris spun, coming face to face with a huge man, at least as tall as Osun, but broader.  Though he was human, the tattoos on his face gave him a demonic aspect, changing the dimensions of his form to something alien and strange.  "Conobar," whispered Hawke.