* A Free Man *

Part I - After the Battle

Caitlin Hawke opened her eyes to the familiar and reassuring sight of her own bedroom at the old Amell estate. For a second she luxuriated in the comfort of the soft clean sheets, stretching her powerful body like a graceful cat. Then the events of the preceding day came back in a rush of images: the explosion of the chantry, Anders' frenzied explanations, Meredith's demand that he be executed immediately. She hadn't been able to kill him. True, their love affair had been over for some time. She had ended it almost a year ago, much to his dismay, when she had realized she would no longer be able to live with Justice's presence, with his increasing fanaticism. But Anders had shared her bed and her heart for almost two years. So she had let him live.

And she had been glad to have him by her side in the ensuing battle, together with her trusted friends. Zevran. Isabela. Merrill. Varric. Aveline. And Fenris. Bethany. Her throat constricted with joy when she thought of the timely return of her beloved sister. In the end, they had been victorious. Caitlin shivered at the thought of Meredith's dried-up husk, consumed by the idol's vicious power. She ran her hands experimentally over her naked body. No major injuries, just bruises and small cuts. And someone had cleaned her up, bandaged her wounds. Well, that was good.

Then she realized she could hear someone moving about next door, in the living room. She got up, slipped into a pair of soft leather pants and a white tunic and opened the door. Fenris was sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace. He had built a roaring fire and was working his way laboriously through one of her books. History of the Tevinter mages, she could decipher on the spine. Well, he had firsthand experience on that topic, that much was certain. The light of the fire was playing on his skin, letting his lyrium tattoos shimmer. He must have cleaned up and slept as well. He looked unfamiliar without his armour, clad in leather breeches and a green shirt that matched the colour of his eyes.

He looked up when he saw her and gave her one of his rare radiant smiles. She felt her heart skip a beat. "You're awake!" he said. She walked over and dropped down at his feet on the fur rug in front of the fire.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, leaning back companionably against his long legs and looking up over her shoulder at him.

"Merrill and Varric were rather badly wounded", he replied. "Anders needed more time to treat them, but the clinic in Darktown is just too dangerous right now, so I told them they could set up their hospital at my place. They're both better, I believe. No word yet on Knight Captain Cullen - he was in pretty bad shape. Bethany ist over there too, trying to help with the healing spells. Aveline and Donnic are trying to sort things out with the Watch. Isabela and Zevran are off to find a ship that can take us out of Kirkwall as soon as possible. And I stayed here to ... make sure you were ok." He lightly touched her dark red hair, so briefly that she wasn't sure whether she had only imagined it.

Caitlin sighed. "We're not exactly popular right now, are we?"

He smirked. "Well, I don't think anyone is grieving much for Meredith. But the fact that you let Anders live has rather riled most people. I myself still don't get why you didn't kill that... abomination." His voice held pure hatred, and she knew that Anders' betrayal, his rash actions, had only served to confirm his already low opinion of the mage.

She looked up at him and considered her answer for a moment. "I couldn't do it, Fenris. No matter what he did, he meant a lot to me when we were lovers..." She couldn't just have imagined the flash of pain that crossed his features at her words. "Besides, I meant what I said. I really want him to live with what he did." Fenris gave a short snort, and she shook her head. "Don't be too hard on him, Fen. He really is a healer at heart. The knowledge that he has killed so many must be eating at him. But make no mistake, I haven't forgiven his betrayal."

"Anyway," she added with a sudden grin, "he really came in useful in the fight with Meredith. And what a fight that was!" She turned around to face him, her face animated and flushed with the memory of battle. "We really showed her, didn't we? And you were magnificent! When you took that statue's head off with just one blow of your sword... I believe you saved my life again!"

He laughed, clearly relishing the memory himself. "Any time, Hawke, any time," he said.

Her face grew serious. "Fen, I want to thank you for standing by me like you did. The others, well, maybe except for Aveline, they fought for what they believed in anyway. But you... it must have been hard for you to side with the mages. And yet, you stuck with me. I won't forget that."

He returned her gaze with a look just as serious. "Caitlin, I will always stand by you. You helped me get rid of Danarius and his hounds. You helped me gain my freedom. I owe you everything. Besides," he added dryly, "you turned out to have been right about Meredith in the end."

"Don't I always?" She gave him a playful slap, and he winced slightly. Only then did she realize that there was a makeshift bandage on his upper arm. "You're hurt!" she exclaimed.

"Just a scratch", he shrugged.

"Let me at least clean this up properly for you!" She cast about for bandages and found some strips of linen, then grabbed the brandy bottle from the table.

Gently, yet deftly, she pulled his shirt off his shoulder, cleaned the wound and bandaged it with quick economic movements. He let her proceed, slightly stunned by her efficiency. She noticed his expression when his gaze swept over the naked skin at the low-cut neckline of her tunic, but he quickly averted his eyes.

"You'd make a fine field surgeon," he remarked.

"I've always taken care of minor wounds myself", she replied. "There, that's better."

"Thank you," he said, and sank back into the chair with a sigh of relief. Then he picked up the brandy bottle and started to laugh. "Maker's mercy, Cait, you've just cleaned out my wound with 30-year-old Antivan brandy. That bottle must be worth a fortune."

"Not as much as you are to me," she replied sincerely.

He looked up abruptly. "Caitlin..."

Not quite knowing what possessed her, she raised her hand and began tracing the tattoos on his still exposed shoulder with her fingertips. She heard him gasp, then he caught her hand in his, looking angrily at her. "Don't play with me, Cait," he growled.

She shook her head and, freeing her hand, continued stroking his silken skin, not daring to look into his face. "I'm not playing, Fen," she said huskily. "I've wanted to do this for a long time. But if you want me to stop..."

"I... don't", he answered, his tone unexpectedly soft, and now she raised her gaze and trembled at the raw desire she saw in his eyes. She could feel his whole body tense with the effort to control himself, yet he held back. His hand gripped her jaw and he lifted her chin, making her look at him. "Cait, if we do this now, there will be no going back to being 'just friends'". His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. "I will make you mine completely and I will never let you go again. Do you understand me?"

Instead of an answer she raised her trembling lips to his. He let go then, kissing her fiercely, hotly. His lips seemed to burn and she could feel all the years of passion and frustration in this one kiss. She lost herself in the feel of his lips and his tongue, and only when he finally broke the kiss did she realize his hands had wandered up under the loose tunic and taken possession of her breasts. His fingers played with first one nipple, then the other, and she moaned hungrily. With a swift motion, he swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the bedroom door. She gasped with surprise. She had quite forgotten that he was the only one of her companions who matched her strength. Despite his injury, he carried her easily over to the bed. When he was letting her slide down onto the sheets, he was panting, but not with the effort.

A few months ago he had told her that he remembered no friends or lovers from the time before he got the tattoos, but now she realized that he must have had some experience. His hands and lips definitely knew what they were doing. In a matter of minutes they were both naked. He lay on his side and let his eyes wander over her.

"So beautiful", he whispered, almost reverently, taking in her firm, well-muscled body, her full breasts and hips, her dark-red curls. She trembled when she looked at him, stretched out next to her. Everything about him was lean, taut and muscular - his strong arms, broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted chest and abdomen, the slender hips and long legs. He was tall for an elf and well-trained, of course, a warrior. His pale golden skin shimmered in the candle light and the tattoos formed intricate patterns on his perfect body. Her breath caught in her throat. Maker, he was beautiful! How could she have been so stupid, why had she wasted so much time?

Greedily, she arched against his hand that was gently stroking her belly. He laughed, but she knew he was just as impatient as she was. She pulled him down for another kiss and could feel his control waver.

"You can be as patient and as gentle as you want later," she breathed against his lips. "Now, I want you!" He responded immediately and with a ragged groan let his hands wander roughly, possessively over her body. When he slid his hand between her legs, he found her more than ready for him. She could hear his breath coming in quick gasps, but he didn't say another word until he cried out her name when he entered her. She cried out too, then, feeling so utterly fulfilled and completed by him that it took her breath away.

For a moment they remained like this, then she pulled him deeper inside her and he answered with a soft moan as he started moving in a furious, urgent rhythm. She matched his every move, gasping, begging for more and he didn't disappoint her. With a small cry, she wrapped her legs more tightly around him, trying to pull him as far inside her as she could, as they both reached the peak of their lust. She felt his powerful body collapse on top of her, his lips searching for hers, and she kissed him, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Fen, my love," she stammered and buried her face against his neck.

She cuddled up close to him for some time, until his hands started roaming her body again. This time, they didn't hurry things - he was slow and gentle and considerate, and she nearly begged him to take her in the end. They drifted off to sleep together, their bodies entwined and covered in sweat.

When she woke up, she could hear voices next door. Quickly, she dressed and walked over to the other room. Varric, Aveline, Beth and Anders were seated at the low table.

Bethany jumped up and greeted her with an embrace. "Cait, how good it is to see you alive and well!" She looked tired, but Anders seemed completely spent. He must have passed hours healing and casting spells and looked almost ready to faint.

"Wait a moment," Caitlin excused herself and fetched a small vial of lyrium potion from her stores. When she put it down in front of him, he looked at her gratefully and downed it in one go.

"So, where's Broody?" asked Varric. Caitlin blushed briefly, but then she heard the door to her bedroom open and Fenris walked in, gracefully as always, and fortunately fully dressed, though he made no effort to hide where he came from and what had happened last night. He sat down close to her on the armrests of her chair and let one hand rest lightly on her shoulder. The others gaped for a moment.

"So it is like this, is it?" said Anders, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

She looked at him calmly. "Yes, it is like this, Anders," she replied.

"And good for you both, I say." Everyone's heads turned to the door, where Isabela had just walked in. "Good news, everybody. Ship will be ready to sail in the morning. Get your stuff ready, let's leave this blasted town behind us."

Caitlin breathed a deep sigh of relief. "So, what's the plan?" she asked.

"Well, I have a ship again, and Zevran has agreed to come with me, at least for a while," Isabella replied. "And if you want, I'd be honoured to have you aboard. And your fine elf as well, of course." she added.

Caitlin laughed. "Me, a pirate? You can't be serious!" she exclaimed.

Isabela shrugged. "You'd make a damned fine one, I'm sure."

"I don't know..." Caitlin said thoughtfully, "What about you, Varric? And Merrill?"

"Ah, well, here's my plan", the dwarf replied with a wink. "There's an estate up on the other side of Sundermount I bought some years ago with my share from the Deep Roads expedition. I took great care to keep the transaction secret, so no one will be able to trace it back to me, but that's where I'm going. It's up in the mountains, fairly lonely. Chances are, no one will have heard of the Champion of Kirkwall and her companions there. Daisy wants to come too. Poor girl is dying to get out of the city and breathe some forest air again, and Isabella said she'd take us up the coast. Why don't you two come along? There's a little lodge out in the woods, if you want even more privacy..." he added with a leer.

Caitlin looked up at Fenris and saw his almost imperceptible nod. "Yes, I believe I'd like that," she said. "Aveline, I guess you and Donnic are staying. But what about Anders?"

"I'm taking him with me, sister," Bethany replied. "He's a Warden, he's our responsibility. And even though you let him live, he has to make amends. And so does Justice."

Anders looked up. He didn't seem happy, but didn't contradict. There was a defeated look about him. "Justice..." he said.

"I'll talk to the Warden Commander", Bethany replied. "Things can't go on like this. We'll have to find a way to free you of him. And if anyone can do it, it will be her, or the mages at the Keep."

Caitlin looked at her sister, avoiding Anders' gaze. "I just hope you are right," she said.

She could feel Fenris' hand squeeze her shoulder lightly. And just knowing that he was there gave her hope.