Happens after Questioning Beliefs (Act 2), but before A Bitter Pill.
Purple Rogue Male Hawke, with rivalrymance initiated. (Rivalry 100% and all previous flirts)

Warnings: hints of sexual abuse, substance (alcohol) abuse

The premice was especially inspired by the "This is your new master…" "He's no one's slave. Fenris doesn't belong to anyone." "Do I detect a note of jealousy? Not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?" - conversation during "Alone".

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Chapter 1.

The room is suddenly lit with a pale, blue glow as the elf's green eyes shoot open. Another nightmare of the past.

"Venhidis…," Fenris hissed between his teeth, tossing the wrinkled cover aside and standing up as the glow slowly subsided, leaving the room dim, only a small beam of the moonlight bringing any light to the darkness. He walked to the window, the cold sweat still glistening on his skin, as the memory of the nightmare still lingered clear in his mind. He had run away, but the collar and chains were still clearly in place.

Not wanting to fall asleep again, the white haired elf walked to the living room. The fire had nearly died, but rekindled quickly as he tossed some more wood into the hearth. As the heat from the flames slowly started to warm up the cool room, the shivering finally stopped.

The dreams always felt so real. He was back in Tevinter, a slave. Nothing but property to be used and abused, at the mercy of Danarius and his apprentices. In name, he had been the magistrates bodyguard, the ultimate weapon against his enemies… but too many times he had been much more - a pet to warm his bed in the nights. Fenris shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. He felt tainted and sick to his stomach, imagining those hands gripping him once more.

Fenris recalled the wine left in the cellar - perhaps it would drown out the nightmares again. He grabbed a wolf pelt from the floor, wrapping it around his slender frame before heading to the cellar. Wine was a bad substitute for sleep, but he just couldn't face any more demons from his past tonight.

As he was walking back upstairs, he heard footsteps from the hall. Cursing under his breath, Fenris slowed down, preparing for a battle. Another ambush was just what he needed right now. His sword was neatly propped against his bedroom wall – out of reach. At least he could still pierce through a few of them before capture. His lyrium markings flared, cold rage igniting within him as his fingers curled, ready to strike.

"You could always take a lantern with you, might be a bit less… ominous?"

A familiar voice made the elf relax instantly, the cold glow disappearing as soon as it had appeared.

"Hawke, you really should stop lockpicking my door."

The human was sitting in a chair, grinning widely. "I was just coming home from the Hanged Man and I noticed you were still awake. Needed some consoling after Varric picked me clean, again."

"So you came to me?" The words were a bit harsh, but softened up by the small smile on Fenris's face. He joined the man in the living room, sitting down in the worn out armchair before the fireplace.

"I mean, after looking at Varric's face for the past three hours, the scenery has improved significantly."

Fenris let out a dry laugh as he opened the bottle. "I'd offer you some, but I think you've had enough wine for one night."

"I meant what I said." Hawke was staring at Fenris with a serious look on his face. "I think you are…"

The words faded out, almost like the man didn't know what to say. Rare for someone like Hawke, who usually spoke his mind, even to the Arishok.

Fenris coughed, feeling suddenly insecure, his upper body covered only by the pelt, the markings visible on his bare chest and arms. He took another long sip from the bottle, feeling the familiar warmth settle in his throat and stomach. "So, are we heading out tomorrow?"

"Do you really want to talk about that, right now?" Hawke looked at the elf, his eyes dark, partially hidden behind his lashes. There had been some flirting between them, nothing too serious and they hadn't spoken about it since he had opened up about his past.

Fenris glanced at the man, sipping his wine. "What, I thought your life was all about meeting weird people and getting into trouble?"

"That's one part of it, sure. That's how we met for example. Little old me and my band of misfits, rescuing a dark, mysterious, and handsome elf from mercenaries."

Fenris chuckled dryly. "Or something like that…. you've clearly been spending too much time with Varric, spinning tall tales."

Hawke pointed at the quickly emptying bottle in Fenris's hand, smirking slightly. "I thought you meant to work on your hosting skills."

"Maybe don't burgle your way into my house and I might be a bit more prepared to host." Fenris took another small sip before leaning towards the man, offering a drink. "I could have even bought some glasses."

The human took a long swig from the bottle before handing it over. "You weren't kidding. That is very nice wine indeed."

Fenris's mood immediately darkened at the mention of his old master. "Danarius certainly had a taste for elusive things."

Hawke didn't seem to notice the shift in his friend's mood, he just continued staring at the elf, a small smile on his handsome face. "I can see the appeal of elusive, beautiful things…."

Fenris coughed, pretending to yawn. "Wouldn't you look at that, the bottle is empty, and I think I should head to bed. It's late and we have an early mission tomorrow."

"I was just thinking about our last conversation… how there might be something more between us. Something you might be willing to try out…"

Hawke's eyes were dark as he stared at the elf. There was something very primitive and dangerous the way he looked.

"I'm not just some whore you can turn to when you are feeling horny after drinking all night."

Fenris spat out the words, the situation all too familiar from his past. He should have known; these people would never see him as anything but a slave. He got up, turning his back to Hawke. "I think you should leave."

"I didn't…" Fenris heard Hawke standing up, walking closer. Before he could react, he felt a hand touching his shoulder, partly revealed.

"Don't touch me!" Fenris cried out as he moved away from the touch, the all-too-familiar blue glow surrounding him. "Get out of my house, now!"

Hawke looked hurt, his mouth opening as if to speak, but he just turned away. "I'm… sorry… I didn't mean to scare you."

They both just stood in silence for a moment, Fenris still prepared to defend himself if needed.

"I didn't mean to… I'll just… Good night Fenris."

The man walked away, leaving Fenris alone with his thoughts. When he heard the door lock behind Hawke, he yelled in frustration, throwing the empty bottle into the wall, shattering it into pieces. The shards scattered at his bare feet, reflecting the firelight into small prisms on the walls, as if the whole room was ready to burst into flames. He stared at them for a long moment, his hands still shaking.

Guess there would be no more sleep tonight