I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter when I posted last night, so here it is with some tweaking and rewriting to make it smoother and hopefully flow better. Special thanks to Janele for her critique! And thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, faving, and alerting!


In the morning, Hawke said nothing to him about the night before, and he did not press the issue, though it lingered in his mind throughout the day. After breakfast, Orana informed them of a visitor.

Fenris followed Hawke to the sitting room to greet the visitor, and his heart clenched when he saw Hadriana, a golden pin holding back long black curls, standing in the entryway.

"Hadriana," said Hawke, her voice cold and harsh. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I was heading to market and I thought I would stop by and visit my newest friend," said Hadriana.

"How kind of you," replied Hawke.

Orana brought them a bottle of wine and they sat together in the living room, exchanging pleasantries and flatteries.

"I thought Danarius instructed you to get rid of that slave," said Hadriana, looking up at him.

"He has not been disobedient," said Hawke. "He has been a model slave, really, and I see no need to waste such an…asset."

"That may be," said Hadriana. "But perhaps now that the slave has been…corrected, Danarius will want him back."

"If he does, he is welcome to speak to me," said Hawke. "But unless I am mistaken, you do not speak with his voice."

"I simply thought to let you know you're treading upon dangerous ground, Hawke," said Hadriana, all pretense of friendship gone from her voice.

"Oh?" said Hawke.

"Indeed. If Danarius was to find out you kept his favorite little pet for yourself, he might be most displeased."

"Are you threatening me?" said Hawke, her voice soft and dangerous.

"No need for such ugly words," crooned Hadriana. "It is simply a friendly piece of advice."

Hawke frowned.

"So tell me, Hawke," said Hadriana, "how have you been enjoying this slave? I speak from experience when I say he is quite skilled."

Fenris's pulse quickened. He knew what Hadriana was asking for, even if Hawke did not, and he hoped fervently that Hawke would not allow it.

"He is indeed skilled," said Hawke as calmly as she could, though her face was flushed and she had clenched one hand into a fist.

"Perhaps you might loan him to me, one of these days," said Hadriana. "His company might make me…forget to mention anything to Danarius about your dalliance."

"No," said Hawke.

Hadriana's mouth made a perfect 'O' for just a second, then she regained her composure.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me," said Hadriana. "I know Danarius will be most displeased with you otherwise. As a friend, Hawke, let me tell you it is not a good idea to risk his anger."

"No," said Hawke.

"It seems you're rather attached to the little wolf," said Hadriana, laughing. She had that gleam in her eyes that meant she had uncovered a vulnerability.

She shot a very familiar spell his way, one that had him gasping in pain and suddenly on his hands and knees, the floor surprisingly close.

"Hadriana!" Hawke's voice was cold and angry, a tone he'd never heard before.

Hawke stood, staring at Hadriana, who remained in her chair, smirking. Suddenly Fenris could feel a strange warmth spreading from Hawke—the scent of blood magic heavy in the air. Hadriana was pulled into a standing position by the spell, plucked like a puppet on strings and propelled forward until she and Hawke were nearly touching.

"I tire of this," said Hawke. "I did not come to Tevinter to play petty games with your kind."

Hadriana opened her mouth but could not speak or move her limbs. Fear was apparent in her eyes.

"I'll give you a single warning," said Hawke, whispering now, her lips close to the magister's ear. "Don't fuck with me or mine."

The magic suddenly ceased, and Hadriana fell to the floor, gasping.

"It was wonderful to see you," said Hawke, as though nothing had happened. "Give Danarius my affectionate greetings."

Hawke turned and left the room, Fenris following, bewildered. They heard the slam of a door as Hadriana let herself out.

His head was spinning. Hawke—a blood mage? He had thought she was different, special, but she was just like all the other magisters, grasping at whatever straws would bring them power.

She misread his expression.

"She won't have you, Fenris. I will protect you."

"With blood magic?" He could not stop the words, they fell out of his mouth of their own accord, bitter.

"If I need to," she replied.

"I never thought…you would be a blood mage. I thought you were different. I thought you were better than them."

"Blood magic is a tool, like a sword or a fireball," she said. "I'll use it if I need it."

"Blood magic is dangerous. It corrupts…"

She whirled around to face him. "You think I don't know the dangers?" Her voice was low and angry, almost a hiss.

"A blood mage killed my mother," she said. "And my lover helped him with his," she let out a strangled chuckle, "research."

She turned away from him, staring into the fireplace. "The man who had been my lover…destroyed the Kirkwall circle with blood magic. He meant to kill the templars but once corrupted he could not tell friend from enemy. I killed him."

She clenched her hands. "Because Merrill is a blood mage, I killed an entire Dalish clan."

She turned back to him. "So yes," she said, almost yelling. "Yes. I know the dangers of blood magic very well!"

He could see angry tears glinting in the corner of her eyes, but he did not care.

"If you knew the dangers, you would not tempt them so! You are just like any other mage, all you care for is power!"

"And what does it matter to you?" she replied, hissing. "I'm just another Mistress to you. You follow me around and guard me because you think for some reason you have to."

She turned away from him and stared into the fireplace.

"You…" he could not find the words to finish.

"I never know what you want," she said, "or if you're just trying to please me."

The question baffled him. What he wanted was to please her. It had never occurred to him that he might want something just for himself.

He just stared at her, trying to think of the right answer.

A glowing Anders strode into the room. "Not all mages are evil!" he yelled at Fenris. "It's people like you who are at the root of all this oppression!"

The dwarf and the pirate ran into the room behind him.

"Whoa, whoa," said the dwarf, "let's not burn down the house. Isabela, why don't you take Blondie here and see if you can calm him down."

Isabela grinned, showing her teeth. "I know a way to make Justice take a hike," she said, taking Anders's hand and pulling him forcefully from the room.

"Fenris," said the dwarf, "why don't you come with me for a minute. I've got something to show you."

Fenris looked at Hawke.

"Go," she said, her voice low.

He obeyed her, following the dwarf out of the room and out of the estate. They walked in silence for a while, until they came to a tavern. The dwarf walked in and greeted the bartender.

"The usual, and a bottle of whiskey for my friend here," said Varric.

"Coming right up," said the bartender.

The two of them walked towards the back of the tavern, and Varric led Fenris into a large, luxurious room with several cushiony chairs.

Varric relaxed into the chair that was obviously dwarf-sized, and when Fenris stood awkwardly in the doorway, Varric gestured to another chair. "Take a seat," said the dwarf, so Fenris did.

"Do you do anything without being ordered to?" said Varric.

Fenris shook his head.

"You need a better imagination, my friend," said the dwarf. The barkeep deposited a bottle of whiskey, a shot glass, and a large mug of ale on the table. Varric took a large sip of the ale and grimaced.

"Rat piss," he said. He tilted the bottle of whiskey, filling the shotglass to the brim.

"Drink up," he said, and Fenris did as he was told. He'd never had alcohol before, and it made him feel strangely hot, like he was blushing.

"So, you gonna tell me what that little lovers' quarrel was about or do I have to get you drunker?" said Varric.

"Lovers' quarrel?" said Fenris.

"Oh, come on," said the dwarf. "We all know you're crazy about Hawke. She's the only one who doesn't see it. Don't even try to deny it."

Fenris nodded.

Varric shook his head. "I've had better conversations with Bianca," he said. "Look, pretend like I, uh, ordered you to speak your mind. Or better yet, pretend Hawke ordered you to."

"I will…try," said Fenris, though he knew Hawke would never order him to do any such thing. Her accusations were still ringing in his ears.

What did he want? He had never thought about it before, never thought he could want something. It hurt less not to want anything.

"Well don't pull a muscle or anything," said Varric.

Fenris just stared at him. This was perhaps the strangest encounter he had ever had. He was unsure how to act, and the whiskey was making him feel warm and strangely contented despite his uncertainty.

"So tell me the story of how Hawke freed you," said Varric. "I want to add it to the Hawke chronicles. Another one of her heroic deeds to immortalize."

"It's not a good story," said Fenris.

"Well, just tell me the facts, and I'll make it one," said Varric. "That's what I do. You think killing a high dragon is poetic and beautiful? No, it's messy, with blood and guts all over. I take that and I spin it into gold."

The words came tumbling out of him, as though they'd been lodged in his throat ever since it happened.

"I disobeyed Danarius, my master, for the first time when I met Hawke," he said. "He beat me for it. Beat me almost to death, and Hawke healed me."

"Rough," said Varric, sympathy in his voice. Mercifully he did not ask what order Fenris had disobeyed.

"She was so kind…" he said, "so gentle and sweet. No one had ever treated me like that before. But I had to go back to Danarius eventually. When I did, she told him I was permanently damaged, that I wouldn't ever be as strong as I had been before."

Varric nodded, and Fenris took another drink, shuddering at the taste.

"So Danarius decided to get rid of me. Hadriana, his apprentice, asked if she could be the one to…dispose of me, but Hawke said she wanted to do it. I was terrified of both of them."

Fenris took a deep breath and stared down at the table.

"Hawke seduced Danarius," he said, "and afterwards, after I'd spent the afternoon with Hadriana, he sent me with her."

As he spoke, comprehension dawned on him, followed by horror. She had slept with Danarius—so he could go free. How had he not realized it before?

"Holy hell," said Varric, leaning forward. "She slept with Danarius?"

Fenris stood. Varric's surprise was a secondary concern. Hawke…he had to speak to Hawke, to tell her how wrong he'd been.

"I have to go," he said to Varric. "Thank you for the drinks."

"Anytime," said Varric, smiling. "Come back if you've got any more juicy secrets to spill…"

Fenris walked quickly back to Hawke's estate, long strides propelling him through the dim streets. Hawke greeted him as soon as he walked in the door.

"I was worried about you," she said.

Fenris smiled. Hawke looked lovelier than usual, hair falling all around her face, her green eyes intent and concerned. The walk home in the cold had sobered him up enough that he was no longer stumbling over his own feet, but he could still feel whiskey-induced warmth in his belly, which was now being joined by another kind of warmth altogether.

He stepped close to her, so he was almost touching her.

"You slept with Danarius…to free me?" he said. "You shouldn't have, Hawke. I'm not worth it."

"I'd do it again," she replied, eyes flashing and defiant.

What do you want? It was as though her voice had invaded his head, asking again and again, what do you want, Fenris?

Something propelled him forward, almost violently, his skin glowing blue where he was marked. He kissed her, hard, pressing his lips against hers and assaulting her mouth. She did not push him away, but opened her mouth in return and let her tongue entwine with his.

When she did finally pull away, she was panting, and her soft breaths were maybe the most erotic sound he'd ever heard.

"I can't," she said, looking away from him. "I…this is wrong."

She walked away from him then, to her room, and he didn't follow her for once. He stood, pacing the room. What do I want? The question was relentless.

And then he knew.

He went to her room and pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. She was standing by the bed in some sort of white nightdress, her hair falling loose around her shoulders.

"I want…" the words were strange and slippery on his tongue—dangerous. "I want to touch you, Hawke."

She smiled, then, and stepped closer to him. She took his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing it, first the tips of his fingers, then his palm, then his wrist. Her kisses were strange and tingly on his sensitive skin, but the affection made him feel warm in a good way.

"Is this okay?" she whispered to him.

He nodded, unable to speak. He lifted his other hand to her face, and caressed her cheek, marveling at how warm and soft her skin was beneath his fingertips.

She bit her lower lip and her cheeks flushed. She stood still, staring as he unfastened his gauntlets and let them drop to the floor. His fingers wasted no time exploring her, one clutching her hip through the thin robe she was wearing, the other grabbing at one of her breasts. She ground her hips against his and kissed his neck, her lips soft and wet as they traced a line up to his ear, where she licked and nibbled until he growled and pushed her back onto the bed.

He unfastened the buttons on her robe and pulled it off. He stood over her as she lay on her back on the bed, drinking in the sight of her body, her pale skin, the round circles of her nipples, the curve of her hips. He bent over her and kissed one of those nipples, enjoying the feeling of it hardening against his lips.

She gasped. "I don't want to take advantage of you, Fenris," she said.

He growled again, this time without words, and pinned her wrists to the bed.

"What if I take advantage of you?" he said, whispering the words into her neck. "What then?"

He pulled back and continued unfastening his armor. He stood before her, naked, and let her eyes roam over him, smiling darkly when he saw desire flare in those green orbs.

He let his hand slip into her smallclothes and rub against her. She was slick and hot against his fingers.

"So you do want me," he said, more to himself than to her. He slid a finger into her opening and she moaned. It was almost too much for him, to see her almost naked, moaning in pleasure. He pulled down her smallclothes and knelt between her legs. Her hand came up to wrap around his length and squeeze, and he gasped.

She had the presence of mind to gasp "Is this okay," as her hand rubbed against him.

He nodded, looking into her eyes to remind himself it was Hawke, Hawke touching him, Hawke's body so soft against his—her green eyes were a barrier against memory.

She guided him to her entrance and he slowly thrust inside her, an inch at a time, holding her squirming hips down as she tried to get him in deeper.

"Please," she gasped, and that one word was his undoing. He thrust himself deep into her, marveling at how slick and hot she was around him. She raised her hips to meet him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and moaning with each of his movements. She raised her head to kiss him and he came, shuddering, groaning into her lips.

He didn't want the moment to end, so he didn't pull away right away, but let his head rest next to hers on the pillow, holding her in his arms.

Gradually, as passion and anger subsided, his senses came back to him, and with them the full implications of what he'd just done. She had not asked for his services, but he had gone ahead anyway. Would she hate him now? Throw him out of her house? Give him back to Danarius?

He turned to her and was surprised to see a lazy smile on her face, which disappeared when she saw how upset he was.

She groaned. "Was it that bad?"

"No, it was…it was wonderful."

That brought her smile back. "It was, wasn't it? But was it what you wanted, or were you just trying to please me?"

"I…" he had been so certain, driven by desire, but now that his passion had faded, he was unsure again.

She sighed. "I'm a horrible, horrible person."

"You are the best person I know," he replied. He wanted to touch her, just to reassure himself, but he did not dare.

"Let's get some sleep," she said, after a long silence. He got up to go back to his couch, but she caught him by the arm. "Stay with me," she said. "Please."

She snuggled up against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist, and before long her breathing was deep and even. He took the opportunity to run his fingers through her hair and over her soft skin, but it was a long time before he slept.

He woke, once, the warm body beside him tricking his sleep addled mind into thinking he was back with Danarius. But as his senses returned, the softness of her body reminded him where he was, and he drifted back to sleep, relieved and even perhaps contented.