To him, the world was no longer a place of hurt and discomfort; of pain and subordination. It was a quiescent paradise where he was free: free to take any path he chose, and that included the whim to love the woman he wanted to. Danielle. Her incandescent smile and radiant gaze pierced his whole being and suddenly, he forgot about the life he was forced to live; the world that was so abhorrent and inequitable. He had then escaped into the world of tranquillity with her. The fighting had stopped within Kirkwall and Fenris chose to rid himself of the mansion that was once belonged to his former master; the walls possessed a putrid resonance of magic, his magic and, on Danielle's advice, he chose to leave that life behind. He could bear no more hatred or sorrow, nor could he be bound to the life he once had. His shackles had never been truly broken until Danielle's lips touched his for the first time in three years. From that moment, Fenris vowed never to let Danielle out of his grasp; she was his chance to be happy and after the life he had led, neither he nor no other man had the right to refuse it.
It had been a year after the defeat of Meredith and Fenris had moved into Danielle's mansion. He couldn't keep his hands off her: for three years he had been chaste and bereft of her, longing to touch her and to hold her. Her vivacious self and zeal for life had drawn her closer to Fenris until he could not hold back any longer. "If there is a future to be had with you, I would walk into it gladly by your side," he had told her, drawing in on her face and smiling. It was a true smile; one of pure happiness and joy – one that had never been smiled before. Danielle had given him a euphoric and halcyon life: he could not lose her again.
Fenris smiled as soon as he woke, as he saw the figure of Danielle lying next to him. Her naked back faced him as he observed her statuesque curves and realised how truly lucky he was to have her. He smiled and ran his finger down her side, then pulled into her slightly. His eyes quickly darted to the large, blood-crusted cut that stretched across her back. His skin pulsed a cerulean blue as he snarled. He swiftly pulled off his covers and paced up and down the room. He wondered if it hurt, why she had been hurt and who in the hell had dared hurt her. He gushed a curse word in Tevinter, which promptly woke Danielle.
"Fenris?" she inquired, rubbing her sleepy, tired eyes. "WHO DARE HURT YOU?!" he bellowed, as Danielle blinked confusedly. "What are you talking about?" she asked. She genuinely did not understand why he had been so angry. "That wound. On your back," he replied, more calmly than before. "Oh, I didn't know it left that much of a mark. I was walking home last night from visiting Varric when some brigand pushed me against a wall and pressed his knife into my back. He droned on about kidnapping me in return for coin and I let him, for a while. It was his game after all. Soon, I got bored of his mindless jabber and quickly retaliated. His knife must've cut me; I didn't feel it and came straight to bed."
"Did you kill him?"
"I think so."
"Good," Fenris replied angrily, lowering his clenched fists.
"Why are you so angry, Fenris? It's only a cut."
"Because...I..."
"It's not that big of a deal. You've watched me be manhandled by thousands of bandits, why is this one any different?"
"I wasn't there. He could've succeeded. You're could've died."
"I'm not a weak woman, Fenris. I am capable of defending myself when it comes to it."
"I would prefer it if you didn't have defend yourself at all. If you didn't get hurt, if you weren't at risk of–"
Hawke grabbed her duvet and wrapped it around her body and stood up, interrupting him. "I am not at risk of anything!"
"We're only mortal, Hawke. How many people have died around us? That can happen to you too."
"Well it won't. I won't let it."
Fenris' skin pulsed again, as he pointed to her. "You are not the Maker, Hawke! You are not indomitable or immortal! You can die, and you will leave me a broken man and drive me into an abyss. I cannot and will not live without you Hawke. You are capable and I know that, but one cut to the throat, Hawke, and you are gone. I am gone. Can you imagine my life without you Hawke? I will not be plunged into misery, despair and grief again. My fate is yours, Danielle: it is shaped by you. I can't live a life without you when you've changed it; my whole world would have crashed down upon me and, again, I would have to find another life after suffering pain and torment. I can't do that again, Danielle. Think of me when you think of the danger you're in and how I would crumble and wither without you. And what were to happen if you were to carry my–" Fenris stopped himself there. It was too much to consider; he – an escaped slave as well as an elf – could not expect that much from a rich, beautiful and successful woman such as Hawke. He had never even expected it of himself. He lowered his arm and sighed. "Please, Danielle," he let out with his sigh and promptly left the estate.
