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It had been several years since Fenris had seen Isabela in person. She was the same as ever, if wearing even less clothing. Perhaps she'd lacked enough coin for what she wanted, or she was trying to stand out slightly less in Kirkwall.
He's found Rivaini culture to be rather interesting so far. He'd seen spirits manifested without any danger of possession, he'd seen possessed mages who lacked the general issues of an abomination. It was quite a culture shock after a life lived in fear of mages. Their dangers seemed far fewer, here.
His conversations with Isabela had gone well, sharing stories from the years they had been apart. She'd had quite a journey as well, and she'd made a decent life for herself.
"I saw the rules of the Hall," he began.
"Oh right, you did learn how to read, didn't you?" She smiled over her pint, "I'm happy for you. Really, I am."
Fenris smiled softly. "Thank you. It's been quite an experience of learning, and my penmanship has become far smoother."
"Anyway- sorry, you were saying about the rules?"
He shrugged. "It seemed a rather marked improvement from when we first met. I am happy for you as well."
Isabela smirked. "You get to catch a show in the ring yet?"
Fenris nodded and chuckled. "It's far more... willing than the coliseum's that I'm used to."
There was a beat of silence that passed as they both took a sip of their drinks. They'd been drinking for an hour or two, and he was again impressed; this time by the strength of Rivaini wine. It was doing the trick, that's certain. Suddenly, Isabela gasped.
"You should compete! I'd bet on you, and I think we've got some Venatori if you want to let off some steam." Her smirk grew into a grin— the sort that meant a scheme.
Fenris sighed. "I'll admit, it's tempting. It's... perhaps a little close to home, however."
Isabela nodded. "I understand. Well, partially. Still, it's good for coin and if you want to stop then we can call time. Fights with demons, Venatori, and creatures are usually to the death, but most aren't."
Fenris let out a slow breath. In his head he could see a battle, hard won in a magister's coliseum. The man had challenged Danarius with his own champion fighter, which all but forced him to accept. He hid his frown with his glass.
"Therein lies my problem. I haven't fought without killing in quite a few years... I'm not certain I can hold back."
She huffed slightly. "Well, that's what the blood fights are for. If you don't want to fight people, I think we just got some Darkspawn in. Oh, and you've got someone to fight beside."
Her smirk was back, a gleam in her eye. He squinted, suspicious, but took the bait.
"And who would that be?"
A familiar voice rang out behind him. A confident, powerful voice. One he vowed he would follow anywhere. "A fellow Champion."
Fenris whipped around fast, his heart suddenly light and fluttering. "Moira?"
He stood from his chair as she laughed, and they shared an embrace. He didn't care if it stung. It had been half a decade since they had seen each other, and more since she escaped the Fade.
She grabbed him by the dagger-straps and pulled him into a kiss. Then fully picked him up. He did not protest, he even laughed when she spun him. Once he'd been set down, she pushed a hand through his freshly-cut hair.
"Maker, sometimes I forget how great your hair looks like this."
Fenris chuckled and he fixed his straps. "Yet I am still no match for the beautiful enchantress before me."
"I see you've been working on your flattery," she winked. He rolled his eyes, still smiling.
Isabela was grinning her devilish grin, and raised her pint to Hawke.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Isabela," Moira chuckled. "Looks like no one has to guess the color of your undergarments."
The rogue laughed and stood up. They shared an embrace as well, and planted a kiss on either cheek. Hawke was far taller than the both of them, standing well over six feet tall. She set her hands on her hips, ever the statuesque hero.
Fenris finally let out a wistful sigh. Then both women turned to grin at him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You just wanted to see us kill things again after all these years."
Isabela scoffed and put a hand over her heart. "You wound me! I would never write Hawke a letter and wait four months for the both of you to be in the same place just to fight! I wrote a letter to Hawke and waited four months so that we could get sloshed and tell tales of glory! The thought of the ring was entirely coincidental!"
Moira and Fenris both nodded.
"Right," they said in unison.
Fenris sighed, shook his head, and smiled. "I'd hope there's gold involved. There rarely isn't, with you." After a moment of thought, he shrugged. "As long as no one is covered in red lyrium, why not?"
"Huzzah!" Isabela pumped a fist in the air. She slung an arm over Fenris' shoulder, the other around Moira's midsection.
"Ready the ring!" she shouted, "two of my closest friends are about to lose you sorry sods some coin!"
Fenris chuckled, gestured to the sword propped on the table. "I'm already prepared."
Moira and Fenris made their way to the pit, both stretching and preparing. Once they stood side-by-side in the ring, she took his hand and placed a kiss atop it. It made him flush, always did when there were others looking.
"Focus, Champion," he smirked.
She grinned at him. With a flick of her wrists, she moved to her stance. He drew his sword, and they both looked to Isabela glittering atop the stands.
She called out, voice surprisingly loud.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and all you brilliant fuckers in-between! Put your hands together for two of the deadliest fighters to grace the Hall! The lovers from Kirkwall, the Arishok-slayers, avid slaver-slayer duo— The Blue Wraith and his Champion!"
Several Darkspawn charge from the gate.
Fenris casts Moira a single glance, and she nods. Flames rage from the ground in a curved line around the creatures. Several of them shriek, writhing against the fire. The two larger of them dart out through the side of it.
Fenris dashed through the flames without issue, and sank Lethendralis through the throat of one. With a slash to the side, he took off another's head. He dodged a shield bash and let it run past him.
Moira took one look at one of the bigger ones and grinned. When it got a good foot away from her, a blade of blue fire manifested in her grip. She took its arm off and sliced a deep line across its belly. Its mutated blood splattered against her, painted her armor a red so deep as to nearly be black.
Fenris was behind it in seconds, piercing his sword through its spine. It writhed and tried to grab at him, but he spun with its motion. He and Moira shared another glance, and they nodded.
A wave of force blew up from under him, boosted him upwards. He landed on its shoulders, sank a dagger into its neck several times, and jumped off. Moira cleaved through its knees, Fenris grabbed Lethendralis, and they both sent two kicks into its back.
As it fell into the deep pit at the center of the ring, they turned to face the others. Moira spun her arcane blade and slammed it into the ground. A line of cracks spread forward, causing several hurlocks to stumble. One tripped and fell into the hole.
A tall, slender Darkspawn rose from the ground. Fenris scowled, he hated these things. He could never remember what they were called.
Moira took a deep breath. Another tap of her sword on the sand, and a cyclone of flame enveloped the creature. Fenris dashed through that as well. It shot out a tendril that sank into his shoulder. He didn't flinch.
He grabbed at the tendril and cut it with his dagger. It shrieked when he phased through its form, spun around to grab at him with spindly claws. He blocked with his sword and left a nasty cut on his hand. It pushed forward, closing in on him.
Fenris crouched low to dodge another slash of its claws. Then he smirked at it, and cast his eyes behind it.
Moira was stood behind it as the cyclone snuffed itself out. When the Emissary turned around, Moira leaped up and punched it with a stone-encased fist. Its jaw cracked and fell slack.
Fenris thrust his sword up through its chest and split it like a fish. Smelled just as horrid.
Another of the larger, axe-wielding darkspawn charged them, dragging the weapon behind it like an afterthought.
Blue strands of light shot out from Moira's fingertips; a line like a rope. Fenris caught it, and they both ran on either side of the thing. The magic turned a blazing red and took it out at the knees. Once it was on the ground, their swords swung in unison.
One sliced clean through its neck, one took off the top of its skull.
The crowd roared.
Fenris dodged an arrow meant for his throat. His love summoned an ice mine beneath it, and the cold spread up its legs. Fenris smirked and held out Lethendralis. Moira nodded and took it for safekeeping.
The Wraith darted toward the lonely spawn and sank both his hands into its chest. With only a slight amount of effort, he tore it in half. Moira walked to him with a smile.
"Dinner tonight?" She grinned.
"I doubt we'll manage to eat much," he chuckled.
She slid a hand through his hair again, her palm landing to rest on his cheek. She leaned down and planted a fiery kiss to his lips. His hands slid up her back, his cheeks fully red. It wasn't too long of a kiss, she knew better, but it still left him breathless.
She always did.
A bell rang out as the crowd cheered, and Isabela's voice cut through the crowd once more.
"Let's hear it for the Champions!"