Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any rights to the game. I do not benefit money in any way from these writings.

Author's Note: Here's the next installment of this tale. Happy reading!

Warnings: M/M, MPREG

Chapter Seven

The Fade was such a strange place. This was the first time Salea ever entered the spirit dream world intentionally, consciously aware of his surroundings and what he was doing there. They were there to save Feynriel. The young half-blood was in danger. That's all Hawke really needed to know. He didn't really understand what a Somniari, or dreamer was exactly, only that it was a dire threat if the youth could not control his power.

Salea and what remained of his party were moving from room to room searching for the boy and for any other enemy entities that were attempting to tempt Feynriel. He'd already lost Aveline to Caress, the desire demon. His friend had been faced with something Salea considered to be an unfair, low-blow temptation. The pain of her husband's death at her hands still lingered over the outwardly strong guardswoman. The sick ideas the demon slipped into Aveline's mind promised Wesley's return. Salea did not blame his friend when she turned on him and the others. What would he have done in her stead? If he thought someone could return to him his father, or dear Carver?

He only hurt for her, seeing just how much Aveline ached and longed for her dead lover.

They finally reached a large room with spectral visions of people who were not really there. Feynriel was there. His desire to be accepted by the Dalish for who and what he was must have been strong. The sloth demon posing as Keeper Marethari had the youth wrapped deeply in the illusion. But Feynriel was a smart boy. He understood what was happening and ran away. The demon was enraged. This time, when Wryme wove his spells of temptation and pride it was Fenris whom he targeted.

"The boy only wants his freedom, not your power," Salea argued.

"Those who are free to choose always want power," Wryme said in his deep, growling voice. The enormous demon jerked his head in the direction of the two standing behind the rogue. "Do you think your friends are different? You think this slave would choose you over his freedom?"

Salea was relieved and grateful when the elf stepped forward to defend himself.

"Cast your eyes elsewhere, demon," Fenris growled defiantly. "I won my freedom from the magisters long ago."

Wryme's clouded, empty eyes scrutinized the warrior. "But you fear them still," he said. "They have left their marks on your body and your mind. With my aid you could be free forever. You could have power enough to challenge any who would chain you."

Salea felt a change in Fenris. He couldn't explain it, but he could almost feel the uncertainty coming from his dear friend in waves. The rogue turned to him, quickly.

"If you accept you are no better than the magistrates," he said. Salea knew the power of these demons' temptations was strong, overwhelming. He understood why Aveline turned on him. However, he did not want to see Fenris do the same. Somehow, he knew that betrayal would hurt more.

Fenris looked at Hawke for a long time. Emotions warred across his elfin features. The most painful to witness was the lost look in the warrior's eyes. So alone, so hurt, so uncertain of anything and anyone. He looked at Salea now as if he were a stranger; as if the friendship and love Hawke had offered to him must have been a lie to trap the elf yet again. It was only for a moment before recognition struggled back into place, but that look hurt the most.

"But," Fenris said hesitantly. "To face them as an equal… I…"

Salea begged him. Not in words, but his eyes pleaded with the elf not to doubt Salea's friendship, not to doubt the love he'd offered. Begged him not to give in at the first test of that friendship.

Salea's heart ached when Fenris turned to the demon.

"What would you want from me?" he said.

The sloth demon smiled showing his long, pointed teeth. "A moment of your time. Nothing more."

Salea did not even have time, perhaps not the strength to deflect the first blow from the warrior elf's sword that knocked him across the room. The wound was bloody and deep, but would not mark his body in the waking world. The ache from it though, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Salea woke with a gasp. The hurt from the memory was vivid and strong. As strong as when it'd first happened years ago. He didn't know how many days had passed since he woke in the dark room onboard the ship that first time, but he'd been dreaming the same thing every time he slept since. It was beginning to wear on him. He hated that memory.

There was nothing to occupy his time. His bonds were mercilessly tight. There was no point in rubbing his wrists raw trying to slip out of them. It was needless pain he wanted to avoid. Dislocating his thumbs wouldn't work either. He needed at least a little give in the ropes to attempt something like that and there was none. The only person he ever saw was a young, very skittish elf slave who brought him food and water. Salea was never released from his bonds. She helped him to eat and attend to his body's needs, but other than that she would not touch him or speak to him. She'd been perfectly terrified the first time Salea attempted conversation, as if she expected brutal punishment even though Hawke was the one who spoke. With a master like Danarius Salea wouldn't be surprised if the girl could be punished for being spoken to by a prisoner even though she couldn't possibly have control over such a thing. So, Salea gave up speaking. He didn't want her hurt because of him.

All he could do with all his "free time" was think, and unfortunately because of the relentless dreams, his mind was constantly haunted by that memory of betrayal.

He and Fenris were not together yet when they'd entered the Fade, but their friendship had been steadily growing stronger. Salea had made his desires known and Fenris had been adorably shy in his response but openly willing to let their relationship play out in that direction. He needed time, and Hawke knew the elf was worth the wait. Still, to feel that betrayal…

Fenris came to Salea afterward asking forgiveness. It was clear he was astonished and ashamed that his fears were so easily manipulated and used against him.

"I failed you," he said. "I won't let that happen again." He was so determined, he spoke with such conviction. Salea believed him. Forgave him because he loved him.

Salea offered comfort that the demon had strong magic that he used to control and influence Fenris' mind. But Fenris said something that Salea tried to ignore.

And yet he didn't manage to influence you.

True, the demons' words never influenced Hawke. Never once made him doubt why he was there or what he was doing. Temptation never arose. Was that because he was stronger? Or because he was never directly tempted under the demons' spells? He didn't like thinking about it. He didn't want to know that Fenris had failed to resist where Salea had succeeded. If Fenris were so easily persuaded, would Salea's love ever be enough to keep the elf by his side? That fear was only intensified when Fenris walked away from him after that first night together. Salea had given everything of himself freely. He'd moved and writhed and breathed beneath Fenris' strong body, submitting his heart along with his body to the one he knew he loved. But the elf turned his back on him again.

There was nothing in the world he wanted to see more than Fenris' face. But every time he closed his eyes all he saw was his lover's back walking away from him.

Danarius sat in his spacious cabin on the Arendün enjoying the end of a large meal with a glass of Agreggio Pavali. The so-called Champion was awake again. The magister smiled, wondering if his dreams were pleasant. In a few more days, perhaps he would pay the man a visit and find out.

tbc...please review!