Confused and uncertain, Fenris doesn't know what to believe. He finds himself tempted to stay, but he can't. He must leave, free himself of this strange place. But her gentle patience pulls at him and further tempts him. Is he strong enough to resist?

Fenris was quiet and sullen after Cara explained what she knew. He asked only a few questions and stayed calm, but Cara knew it had been a big shock to him. He had taken it better than she expected, her house was still intact. She had a feeling he didn't believe her, but she expected his skepticism. If she found herself in Thedas unexpectedly she doubted she would believe it either.

He had found the trunk she mentioned, and early in the morning she heard him. Some of the words she knew from the game, but others were foreign to her, probably more curse words in Tevine. Fenedhis was a word he said often as he struck against the tree. After he would sit under the pine behind the house, cleaning his sword, or staring at the mountains.

She'd cleaned the spare room and moved his things inside, but he spent most of his days staring out at the mountains. She let him have his space. She knew he needed time to put his thoughts together. He joined her for the evening meal but said little. Afterward, he took the books she had of Thedas and retired to his room to read. She thought of showing him the computer and the games but worried it might be too much for him to take in at once. She would wait until he asked her for more information.

Tomorrow she would need to check the fences. She knew some would need to be repaired after the storm. She had stayed close to the ranch for a week for his sake. Though, she had plenty of chores to keep her busy.

After checking on Daisy and the colt, she went to her garden. She couldn't plant yet, but she could get it ready. As she pulled weeds and turned the soil she glanced over at Fenris.

He sat under the pine tree, staring out at the mountains. He wanted to believe the books she had let him read were just historical references. His mind refused to accept being thrown into another world. It had to be somewhere near the Frostbacks, closer to Haven and Varric than she had said. Being thrown forward in time had seemed the only option. Now he was certain it was just an elaborate spell.

She'd said her world lacked magic, but he could feel it. Weaker, suppressed, but still there. He was certain Cara herself was a mage, though her power was weak. Or hidden with a spell. She wasn't who she said she was. The illusion created around him was well done. Someone had gone to great lengths to convince him he was no longer in Thedas.

What bothered him most, was how much Cara knew about his life and his friends. Not even those who read Varric's book would have the knowledge she had. How had she spied on them? Who was the informant? Or had they pulled the thoughts from his own mind? Whoever they were, they understood him well. This life was everything he wanted. A quiet existence without magic.

He heard her soft laughter and looked to see her laughing at the antics of the hens digging in the fresh dirt. Her pale blonde hair played around her face, as the wind caught and teased it. He felt drawn to her. Why? Had the spell created something he wanted so he wouldn't leave? There had been demons as well as mages in the battle. Had one trapped him in a dream? The boy Feynriel had been trapped in a dream. Fenris had joined Hawke to help free him. If he was trapped in the Fade, could he free himself?

Was Cara trapped as well? Or was she one of his captors? He sighed. Even with what he knew of magic it all seemed impossible. He had to leave this place. She had removed the stitches that morning and the wound was healed enough for him to travel. If she stopped him, it would confirm her as his enemy, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.

Cara stood and dusted off her hands. Despite the chill in the spring air, Cara wiped at her damp brow. It would get colder in a few hours when the sun set. She wished she could make this easier for him, or knew how to send him home. She wanted to do something to ease his mind. He hadn't said it, but she knew he didn't believe any of it. Trying to convince him would only prove it all an elaborate scheme. He still sat under the pine. She wondered his thought of it all, but he kept them to himself.

The hour was late when she brought him a plate of food. "I thought you might be hungry. If not I thought you might like a drink." She held out a bottle of wine. When he took both she sat beside him.

"Thank you." He set the food aside and took a long drink from the wine bottle. "I will leave in the morning."

"I can take you anywhere you'd like," she offered.

Fenris shook his head. "It is best I find my way on my own."

"I understand. I can set you up with supplies. Oh and money, you will need it." She chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to warn him of the dangers but doubted he would believe her.

"You have done much already. I cannot repay you." He offered her the wine bottle.

"It's the right thing to do. You helped me with Daisy, we can call it even." She handed the bottle back. "There is stronger drink inside if you'd like." She felt her cheeks flush at his raised brow. "Sorry, I don't get visitors often. I would enjoy the company."

"I would enjoy the company of a beautiful woman."

She gave a nervous laugh. "I'm not, so no need to pretend."

He watched the smile fall away from her face a moment before she stood and hastened back to the house. He shook his head. Her insecurity was another piece of the illusion meant to pull him in deeper.

Cara stood in front of the fire, a glass of brandy held absently in her hand. He hadn't meant it. She wasn't beautiful. Most people told her she had interesting features, just another way of saying she was different. Her nose was too wide, her eyes just a bit too large and gave her a surprised or youthful look. Her chin was another feature which was wider than most women's, and her ears were slightly pointed instead of round.

She looked nothing like her family, either. She had long thought she'd been adopted, but her mother swore she was her first born. Her brother was handsome, with heavy-lidded hazel eyes, and dark brown hair. He was a full foot taller than her own 5 ft. 5 in. No one else in her family was short. She was just an odd freak of genetics. Even her professor couldn't explain where her traits had come from. A genetic anomaly, she called it. Just another word for strange. No, she wasn't pretty.

In high school she thought the boys found her attractive, then she learned most of their friends had set them up in a dare. In college, she had met Dan. He'd been her knight in shining armor and swept her away. But it hadn't lasted. Two years after Grace was born he changed. Maybe that was when she noticed the offhanded comments, but he'd grown displeased with her and constantly told her she did nothing right. When Grace was ten he left them. Cara spent years in therapy coming to terms with the years of mental abuse. But none of it erased the insecurity over her looks.

Fenris stared because she was odd looking. He was only being kind. She hadn't missed the moments when his expression hardened after looking at her a little too long. It always ended the same.

He found her staring into the fire, amber liquid absently swirled in the glass in her hand. If she heard him enter she didn't respond.

"Why are you here alone?" She should have friends, family, a mate, children. Not a lonely existence with a wolf and a few dozen horses.

"My daughter, Grace, died in an accident this winter. She was driving home when a blizzard hit." She took a shuddered breath. "My brother prefers the city life. Not that Billings is a huge metropolis, but the quiet of the ranch is too quiet for him."

"And what of Grace's father?"

She took another ragged breath. "He left fifteen years ago. They always leave, he was just the last." Her words were spoken in a whisper. The anguish in her voice pulled at something inside him.

"Sorry, just a moment of self-pity. They come and go now with Grace gone. I have two ranch hands who work summer thru fall. They help with the round-up, branding and put up the hay for winter. I'm not always alone." She looked into her glass a moment.

"I apologize; I seem to ask insensitive questions."

She gave him a half smile. "It's alright. I'd grown used to the quiet life. It didn't feel lonely until I lost Grace." She finished her drink in one swallow, closing her eyes to the burn in her throat. "I need to put the hens up and tend the horses. Then I'll retire for the evening. It's been a long day." She waved a hand at the bar. "Help yourself. My grandfather was a collector of fine liquors. It would take three lifetimes to drink it all."

Fenris moved to the bath. He found it similar to baths found in elite homes. Few peasants had the luxury of enchanted washrooms. The first time she had shown it to him he'd felt the warmth in his stomach as he watched her lean over the tub explaining how it worked. It wasn't the first time his body had responded to the sight of her.

She hadn't yet returned from outside when he emerged from the bath. He thought of retiring, but the fireplace in the main room was inviting. He'd avoided her as much as possible the past week, and she had graciously given him his space. Tonight he found he wanted company.

He poured a glass of wine and stretched out on the bear skin rug. Her home was warm and welcoming. Even the images of her kin on the wall seemed to welcome him with warm smiles and gentle eyes.

He heard her enter the kitchen and the soft thud as she removed her shoes. He listened for her footfalls on the floor but she was silent. Her quiet gasp when she entered the room was the only sound she made.

Cara couldn't help but stare. He lounged on the rug in front of the fire. Soft cotton pants which sat low on his hips was all he wore. Firelight danced along his bronzed skin and shimmered in the pale markings which mapped his form.

A slight smile tugged up the corners of his lush lips. "Join me."

His voice seemed to tug at her very soul. She'd loved the depth of his character, shamelessly fantasized about being in Hawke's place, but to see him - for him to be real felt like being under a spell. She meant to decline and slip quietly to her room. Instead, her feet moved on their own and she found herself settled across from him on the thick fur.

"Just one drink, dawn comes early, and it's been a long day." She took the glass he offered and kept her gaze on the fire. "This is my favorite room. When I was young my brother and I played cards with mom and dad. Or we challenged each other to a game of chess."

"I've never played, only watched it played."

"Would you like to learn?" she asked.

He nodded and she leaned back and pulled a carved box from below the table. She set the board between them and explained each piece as she set them up. He learned quickly and soon had her retreating.

"You let me win." His voice was laced with amusement.

"I gave you an early advantage, but I did try to win." She gave a soft laugh. "I've never seen someone pick the game up so quickly, you have a mind for strategy."

She reached for a piece and his hand closed around hers. Cara froze, her eyes locked on his darker hand against her own pale skin. A tingle moved up her arm. He turned her hand, gently took the piece and set it in the case. She felt her heartbeat heavy against her ribs, and a flutter in her stomach a moment before warmth spread out from her core. Before the moment was gone she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. When he didn't return her kiss, Cara retreated.

"Sorry, I - just forget I did that."

Fenris still held her hand in his, and with the other swept the pieces and board aside. He pulled her across his lap. His hand fisted in her hair as he crushed his mouth to hers. His kiss was hard, demanding, and a complete surprise. Was it the drink, or his kiss that made her head spin? She braced herself against his chest. Any moment now, he would realize what he'd done and stop.

Instead, his teeth nipped at her lower lip and along her jaw, sending shivers down her spine and heat through her veins. Then his mouth found the pulsing vein at her throat. His lips were hot against her skin, as he sucked the soft skin between his teeth. The sharp thrill of his love bite sent her senses reeling.

Passion and desired flooded, like a damn burst within her. Fifteen years of pent up desire crashed over her at once. Filling her senses with him, and her need to feel his touch everywhere.

She vaguely knew her shirt being pulled over her head as his lips seared a trail down her throat. A growl of appreciation sounded in his throat and his fingers pushed down the lace bra. She moaned with pleasure when he claimed a breast in his hot mouth. Arching into his touch. She fumbled with the button and zipper of her jeans, needing free of the confining fabric.

*** (Fade to Black) ***

Cara slowly recovered, her body sated and pliant beneath him. He'd called passion she never knew she was capable of and she had lost control. She kissed his jaw tenderly and sighed with satisfaction.

Fenris raised off of her and pushed away her hands.

"Witch!" he spat. "I will not stay trapped in your spell."

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt her heart stop a moment, a sharp pain in her chest, at the contorted snarl on his face. She grabbed her shirt to cover herself and scooted away.

"I'm not a witch, there is no spell," she choked out.

"Be gone! I will not listen to your lies." His marking glowed blue, his fists clenched.

She fled to her room, locking it. Remus growled at the door. Cara was thankful he had retreated to the bedroom earlier.

She had known Fenris didn't believe her. But to think he was trapped in a spell? It explained the hardened looks he gave her.

In all her years she had never felt so drawn to anyone. It had never felt so right, or complete. She had too quickly given herself after fifteen years of waiting for the one, and it had ended in disaster. He was no different than any of the others. She collapsed to the floor with a sob.

She had bewitched him. He paced the room, certain of it. What had happened between them was beyond anything he'd known before. For it to be that right, to feel so certain she was meant for him alone, it had to be a spell. Or she was a Desire Demon? No, not a demon, they didn't act with such selfless kindness. She had never asked him for anything, had never twisted his words around.

He stopped short when he stepped on a chess piece. He picked it up and set it in the case, then retrieved each piece and put them away.

He recalled the fear and pain in her eyes. The tears threatening to fall as she fled. Was it possible all of this was real? She had felt real, tasted real, the scratches on his shoulders and arms still stung. His own shame from giving into temptation had fueled his anger. With a sigh, he moved silently down the hall.

He raised a hand to knock and heard the faint sounds of crying. He tried the knob but found it locked. He tapped his knuckles against the wood.

She gasped. "Go away!"

"Cara -"

"Just go. There is nothing for you here." Her voice cracked between ragged gasps.

He pressed his forehead to the door, shutting his eyes at the pain in her voice. He would make it right between them before he left.

"I will leave in the morning." He waited for a reply that never came.

I know - I'm sorry, but not sorry. Fenris isn't really an ass. Part of him believes he's trapped in the Fade, so giving in is a weakness.