Hawke came by late in the afternoon, announcing herself with the soft clicking that meant she was picking the lock on his door. Hawke and Isabela never bothered to knock.

It should have annoyed him, but somehow it didn't. Perhaps he was simply that lonely.

"Hey," said Hawke, sticking her head into his living room. "I'm heading down to the Hanged Man. We've got a job, if you're interested."

"Always," he said, standing to greet her.

They headed down the Hightown streets, brushing against busy nobles in the marketplace. Hawke was silent, pensive.

"What's on your mind?" said Fenris.

"The job," said Hawke. "Do you remember Feynriel? The boy we rescued from the slavers?"

"I do."

"Remember how I sent him to the Circle?"

Fenris nodded. Hawke had sat with him late that night, asking him if she had done the right thing. It was the first time he'd though of her as a person, and not just as their fearless leader.

"His nightmares have gotten worse. A few days ago, he fell asleep and hasn't woken up. The Circle has no solution or cure besides making him Tranquil."

Hawke sighed. "I did the wrong thing. I sent him to the Circle instead of the Dalish, and now he might die because of me."

"You did the best you could," said Fenris, surprised at the conviction and weight of her tone, as though she carried full responsibility on her shoulders.

"The Dalish keeper may have a ritual that could save him," she said. "I should have just sent him with the Dalish in the first place. They seem to know much more about this than the Circle."

"Mages belong in the Circle," said Fenris.

Hawke sighed. "Things are never that simple," she said. "I just don't know why it always falls on me to be the one making these decisions. I'm not Anders. I didn't ask to be responsible for all this."

Fenris looked at her. He had never really felt responsible for anything outside of his own safety and actions. To feel responsibility for a boy they had met briefly, years ago…he wondered what else Hawke worried about. He felt a sudden urge to protect her, to hold her and whisper to her that everything would be okay.

They were silent the rest of the way to the Hanged Man. There, Varric, Isabela, and Anders were waiting for them, playing cards on one of the ale-stained tables.

The group headed down to the Alienage, and Hawke explained the ritual.

"The Dalish Keeper is going to send us into the Fade," she said. "We need to find Feynriel and help him to overcome the demons that have him in their grasp."

"We're going into the Fade?" said Varric.

"Sounds like an experience," said Isabela. "Count me in."

"I fear what a trip to the Fade might bring out in me," said Anders.

"I need you to come, Anders," said Hawke, "if you're willing. We will almost certainly need a healer."

Anders gave her an intense glance, one that made Fenris feel strangely unsettled.

"If you need me, I'll be there," said Anders.

Hawke smiled at him. "I know," she said. She turned to the others. "Fenris and Varric?" she said.

"It's about time I checked out this 'Fade' you humans are always going on about," said Varric.

"I have no desire to enter the Fade," said Fenris, "but I will go if you go."

Hawke grinned at them.

"Hey," said Isabela. "What about me? I wanna go!"

Hawke turned to the lovely pirate. "There will be demons, trying to tempt us at every corner," she said to Isabela.

"I never give in to temptation," said the pirate. Hawke rolled her eyes.

"I'll try really really hard, I promise," said Isabela. "No making deals with demons. I hear you."

"Okay," said Hawke. "Let's go."

Keeper Marethari was already inside the humble home when they entered. Arianni, his mother, was bustling around, gathering what looked like well loved wooden toys and setting them on the table.

"Greetings," said the Keeper.

Hawke inclined her head. "Greetings," she replied.

The Keeper looked over the party. "I see Merrill is not with you. Is she well?"

"She is fine," said Hawke. "She seems to be adjusting well to the city. We are all looking out for her."

"I am glad to hear it. Are you ready to begin the ritual?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," said Hawke.

"First, I must speak to you in private," said Marethari. She and Hawke stepped away into another room.

"I cannot thank all of you enough," said Arianni. "You are so brave."

"Do not worry," said Anders. "We will not let your son come to harm." His calm, everything's-going-to-be-okay tone had doubtless been honed over years of running a clinic in a dangerous place. Fenris had to admit it was pretty soothing.

Hawke returned, looking grim. "Let's get this started," she said.

"Lay down," said the Keeper, gesturing to the blankets spread on the floor that Arianni must have prepared for them. "Close your eyes and follow the sound of my voice."

As the Keeper spoke, Fenris found himself drifting, as though he were about to fall asleep, and then righting himself, as though he were about to wake up. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a long corridor of white marble. Hawke was next to him. She gave him a tentative smile.

The others appeared out of thin air, Anders glowing blue. "Be cautious," said the mage, in a deep throaty tone entirely unlike his usual voice.

"Justice?" said Hawke.

"Anders has told you of me," said Justice/Anders.

"Nice to finally meet you," said Hawke.

"It is a pleasure," said Justice/Anders. "Let us be done with this task."

They moved forward, towards the door at the end of the hall. It opened into a stone courtyard. At the bottom of a flight of white stairs was a demon.

"Hello," said the demon, its tone deep and lazy. "Welcome."

"I don't make deals with demons," said Hawke, sighing. She looked tired.

"But…I haven't even offered one yet," sputtered the demon.

"I know that's what you're going to do," said Hawke. "Just…no. No deals."

"You don't even know what my terms are. I might be offering to make you queen of Antiva!" said the demon.

"Oooh," said Isabela. "I'd rather like to be a queen."

Hawke sighed. "Isabela," she said, her tone firm, like a mother scolding a child. "No deals with demons."

"But…" said Isabela, but Hawke cut her off with a definitive "no".

"Very well," said the demon, disappointed. "I guess we fight then. Or whatever."

They cut down the demon with little trouble. Hawke looked around the courtyard.

"The first demon is in there," said Justice, pointing to a door on their right. "Be careful. I sense a pride demon, a very powerful one. This boy's soul must be powerful indeed to attract such notice."

They opened the door, and in a fog of blue smoke, Hawke disappeared.

"Wait, where are we?" said Varric. Fenris could see all the others, but nothing else, as though the blue smoke had wrapped them firmly up into a bundle.

"The Fade," said Justice.

"I know that," said Varric. "But where in the Fade? And where the hell's Hawke?"

The rest of them shrugged. There was nothing to do for it but wait. Eventually the smoke cleared and they were deposited next to Hawke, who was looking up defiantly at a huge, black-purple demon, his spiky body shimmering in the unreal air.

"I would have given the boy everything he wanted," said the demon.

"Yeah, yeah," said Hawke. "You act like I've never met a demon before."

"Not one this powerful," said the demon. "You think you can defeat me with your loyal friends? How loyal are they, really?"

Suddenly the demon turned to Fenris, and he could feel every part of himself being pulled towards the creature.

"You think this slave would choose you over his freedom?" said the demon.

"I won my freedom from the magisters long ago," said Fenris, stepping forward, trying to ignore the tug on his mind.

"But are you really free?" said the demon. It seemed to peer into his thoughts, to see every way the magisters still held sway over him, the memories, the fear…

"I could give you the strength to free yourself, body and soul," whispered the demon. Fenris saw himself, clear, unblemished skin.

"You could destroy Danarius," whispered the demon.

Fenris shook his head, trying to free his thoughts, but the demon held on tight.

"Your mind could break the shackles of memory," said the demon, and Fenris saw himself kissing Hawke, saw her lying naked on her bed, waiting for him.

"You could have a future," said the demon, and Fenris saw Hawke holding a slender child, singing, saw a house in the countryside and his sister embroidering in a rocking chair, looking up to smile at him.

"What…what would you want from me?" he said to the demon

"A moment of your time, nothing more," said the demon. Fenris opened his eyes and saw Hawke and the others drawing their weapons. He dodged Varric's arrow, diving to the left and coming back to his feet with his sword in hand. He charged at Anders, who cast a glyph on the floor, paralyzing him in place. He struggled to move as Hawke slipped around behind him, her daggers diving into his back…

And he woke with a start, on the hard floor of Arianni's hovel. Marethari looked at him, her eyes gentle. His companions were still sleeping, their faces intent, brows furrowed.

He realized, with a shiver of horror, what he had just done. Suddenly the hovel seemed tiny, the smoke from the fireplace suffocating. He stood, quickly.

"I need to go," he said, by way of explanation, and nearly ran out the door.

He hurried back to his estate in Hightown, not sure why he was hurrying or what he was running to, or from.

He had betrayed Hawke, and for what? A demon's lies? All this time he condemned every mage and magister, only to find the same vulnerability, the same weakness, within himself.

It was too much to bear.

He sat by the fire and opened a bottle of wine, staring into the flames.

Would Hawke forgive him, this time?

He drank the open bottle of wine, and when he reached the bottom, he opened another one.

Anything to protect him from the thought of Hawke leaving him.

Without her, he would have nothing.

He was halfway through his second bottle of wine, and well on his way to being completely drunk, when she walked into his living room. He was so far gone he hadn't even heard the quiet clicks of the lock being picked.

"Hey," she said, a smile on her face. The light from the fire flickered over her soft features, her lips full and dark.

"Hawke," he said. "I am sorry. I…was a fool. It will not happen again."

"It's okay," she said. "That's how it goes sometimes with demons. That's why you have friends with you."

"I…it was unforgivable. I betrayed you."

"If it makes you feel any better, Isabela did too," said Hawke. "Really, I should have seen that one coming. She likes big boats, apparently."

Hawke sat across from him and took a drink of the wine. She was used to helping herself, here, used to the fact that he had no idea how to be a host. She didn't seem to mind.

"I'm just curious," said Hawke, softly. "What did the demon promise you? You've already won your freedom, like you said."

"Do you remember what the witch said to me," he replied, "when you freed her from that amulet? She said 'the chains are broken, but are you truly free?' I'm free but I'm not. My chains are broken but the markings on me…on my body and my mind, they are still there."

The wine was making him maudlin, making his tongue flow freely.

"I am sorry," said Hawke. "That must be difficult to live with. But you can tell me anything, Fenris. You can always talk to me."

Fenris opened his mouth and closed it. What could he say to her, to this fiercely independent, proud woman, a woman who had come to Kirkwall with nothing and had climbed by sheer force of will to the place she was now?

Could he tell her his memories haunted him, even now, even years after his escape? Could he tell her the touch of her skin brought back the lingering ghosts of other hands, other lips? Could he tell her that he could never touch someone as pure as her, not with hands and a body that had been so defiled, so used?

No. He could never speak a word of it to her, never.


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