Disclaimer: everything is owned by Bioware.
Warning: this story is AU, and rated M for a reason. There is no saints and no heroes, only people.

I will update the story, once my precious editor - coldwetn0se, would approve of the new chapters. And of course, it's dedicated to her, as without her help none of my stories would probably see the light.

Part I

Awakening

Song: "Hopeless" by Breaking Benjamin.

Emerging from the darkness of oblivion, the first thing he feels is overwhelming pain. It's all he knows for a moment, the ropes of boiling agony coursing through his body, setting every inch in flames. Seeking for any relief, he tries to breathe, to cool his insides, but the air is scorching too. Struggling in the throbbing snares of this existence, he groans, wishing only for everything to end. He doesn't remember how long he's been unconscious, but now he wants to sink back into nothingness.

—

Voices break through the fog of his torment, speaking about... him?

"Uh, what did you do to him? He looks like he's about to die any minute." A female, she sounds disgusted? He must look as bad as he feels.

"Don't you worry, my dear. My little wolf is stronger than he seems. Right, Fenris?"

Fenris, yes. That's his name. He remembers it now. He also remembers this voice, the voice of his nightmares. His Master. Danarius. Could he ever forget it?

"Welcome home, my pet. I have tried to make your long awaited arrival appropriate. I hope you will appreciate my efforts." Danarius stops for a moment, as if waiting for his reaction, and memories flood Fenris' mind. Kirkwall, Hawke, Hanged Man, his sister, Danarius, a ship, Minrathous, yes.

He wants to retch.

"Now Fenris, don't be difficult. How must a good slave answer to his Master?" Notes of indignation slip out of Danarius' voice, and Fenris feels the all too familiar hate and humiliation rising in his throat. A slave. A thing. Again.

"Fenris!"

He remembers this tone too well. Danarius is furious, and he knows what is to come.

"Yes, Master." He croaks without opening his eyes. His throat is raw and his voice sounds rasp... from screams? This he doesn't remember. "I... I thank you for your efforts, Master."

"That's a good pet." His Master sounds pleased and Fenris can't help, but feel a shameful fit of relief. Maybe he won't be punished now.

"You've been such a nuisance over these years, Fenris. Such a trouble." Danarius finishes with an exaggerated sigh. Fenris squeezes his eyes, knowing that his hopes were in vain.

A female's voice interrupts his thoughts. "Doesn't look like much trouble to me."

Fenris tries to recall if he's heard it before, but no one comes to mind, and he remains still, trying to maintain his breath as even as possible. The pain slowly recedes, leaving his muscles sore and aching, except for several spots, which he can identify as magical burns from the feel of it.

Snorting, she continues - "Leave him be. I would like you to check the notes I've been working on. You can have your time with him later."

"Ah, but I have something in mind for... tonight. You will not be disappointed, I assure you." The mirth in Danarius' voice is undeniable, but Fenris is certain, that he will have no reasons for joy. The silence that falls in the room after these words, is almost palpable.

"...Tonight?" Finally repeats the woman in a small voice. Fenris suddenly wants to see her face, it feels strangely important to him. But the moment - and with it, his urge - is gone.

Danarius chuckles, "Yes, tonight, so I've ordered to have him prepared."

He sounds entertained, but Fenris recognizes a note of irritation. In his years with Danarius he has learned to catch even a shade of emotion in his Master's voice. Like a good slave. Feeling a new burst of hatred, he tries to bury the thoughts for the coming night, under this familiar sensation. It's better than to writhe in fear, waiting for yet another atrocity from the hands of his Master. And tonight Danarius won't be the sole executor, or so it seems . The sound of an opening door brings him to reality, giving a brief hope that he will be left alone for at least the next few hours, but the following words cause him to shudder.

"If you want to study him, while I read your research - you may. But do not linger gawking, if you want to hear my comments while I still have the time."

—

The door closes, but Fenris knows that he's still not alone in this chamber. He senses her eyes on him, yet she doesn't come to pinch or cut his body, nor uses her magic to ignite his markings. She must be a magister, there is no way Danarius would speak like this with anyone of a lower status. Feeling anxious after a several minutes of total silence, Fenris finally dares to open his eyes. For a moment they just stare at each other, neither uttering a word or moving a limb. She looks vaguely familiar, but he cannot tell where he could have seen her before; perhaps one of those lecherous parties Danarius was so prone to. Her features are too sharp to be beautiful, with nose slightly too long, too high cheekbones and too thin lips. Her skin is pale and her black hair is smoothed back at neck's length, even further defining the angles of her face. And her eyes are... they seems to be dark, but he can't say it for certain, because there is that expression in them, that he cannot bear. Pity? Why would she pity him? Because he's too pathetic of a toy for her to trifle with? Too broken to experiment? He basks in the irony, that a feeling he always hated to see directed at him, would be his saving grace against a magister. Swallowing hard, Fenris turns his head away, and in a moment the door slams behind her.

He absently wonders if she is his Mistress, or just his Master's new apprentice. Danarius is surely of age to be worried about heirs. Not like it would change much in his lot. She could only be worse than Hadriana, with even more power over him. Helplessly tugging at his shackles, Fenris resigns to his fate, waiting for the night to come.