A/N: Hello all! I have been a huge lurker/reader of this site for the past 5 years, but this is the very first piece of my fanfiction that I actually had the nerve to publish. I have written a few pieces over that time, so maybe I'll post those too. I would like to thank Denvori for his proofreading skills.

Disclaimer: Fenris and Hawke belong to Bioware. I'm just a fangirl who was inspired by them to write.

For all my life, or what little I remember of it, I had been a slave. Someone told me when to get up, when to eat, when to fight. Everything was an order I had to follow. Now, with Danarius dead, I was supposedly free.

"I am free," I sneered at the empty mansion. "Out of one cage and into another," I laughed bitterly to myself.

How did this happen? I mulled the question over and over again in my head. Three years ago, I shackled myself to a new master. Albeit, a much nicer, more honorable, and strikingly gorgeous master—she would despise the title—but, it was still an accurate description. I even wore a red band around my wrist, a scarlet cuff with a symbolic chain that led right to her.

"I did it to myself," I sighed aloud. "I'm to blame this time."

Yet I knew, somewhere buried very deep, that I was being unfair. My bitterness and fear consumed me, fail-safes to protect what little heart I had left. She did not command me. She never ordered me to do anything. She often sought my counsel and listened to my opinions, even when they differed from her own. She shared the coin found on outings equally and even found time to chat over wine. All of these things made her less of a master and more of a friend to me—until that night.

I went to her mansion with years of longing glances and flirtatious words built up between us. I was drawn to Hawke: her wit, her beauty, her skill. I simply could not get her out of my head, and could not bear to stay away from her any longer. I had told her that I would go; all she had to do was say it. In retrospect, I should have known she would never have done so. My lips claimed hers, and every nerve ending in my body reveled in her touch. Our love was exhilarating, something awesome and yet terrifying. I had never known such deep emotion for anyone, and I believe that is what triggered my flashbacks.

So, what did I do, faced with the haunting memories of my past? I tried to run, just as I had done with my previous master. I fled, leaving her room that night full of regret and shame. I contemplated fleeing Kirkwall, thinking that it was for the best, but I could not bring myself to do it; my feelings for her would not let me leave. After, there was a terrible tension between us. Every time I laid my eyes upon her, my emotions would threaten to boil to the surface. Her presence would trigger these primal feelings in me that were so overwhelming. I reined them in the best I could, and slowly, I built a wall between us with bricks of guilt, shame, and fear. Every moment of shame because I would never be good enough for her, every drop of guilt because I had tainted something so pure and beautiful, every shred of fear caused by the fact that one day she would be with someone else. I was fairly sure she hated me, or at least she should have hated me after what I had done to her. I hated me, so surely she must. I was suffocating, stagnant—trapped behind my wall with no way out. It made me even more bitter, if that were possible, and reclusive. There was a distance between us, but the chain was still there attached to my red shackle. So I found myself here, freed from one master yet bound to another by my own hand.

"I am a damn fool," I said aloud to the empty room. "A fool and a coward."

"You are neither of those things," the emptiness replied.

I tense at the sound of her voice, chiding myself for not hearing her come in. Too busy wallowing in your self-pity, idiot. A few seconds later, my mistress stands before me, in front of the fireplace. Hair in her eyes, tanned arms crossed against her chest, she leans against the mantel nonchalantly.

"But do not let me interrupt your conversation with the wall," she smirked.

"What do you want, Hawke?" I sighed. I know that she has come here with a purpose; I see it etched into her face. She is not easily deterred, and once she decides something has to be done, it is. I decide to get right to the heart of the matter.

She smiles at my words. "I've always appreciated your ability to cut to the chase. No need for pleasantries and empty words—just right to business."

"And I've always appreciated your ability to speak and not hold back, so do so," I respond flippantly. We could always banter back and forth, even with the tension.

"You are a free man now Fenris," she started. "Why are you cooped up in here? No one has seen you in almost a week and…"

"Cooped up," I snapped, interrupting her. I could feel my emotions erupting—her use of the term free lit them like a match.

"I finally killed the man who had been hunting me for years. I gained and lost a sister I never knew. I discovered that it was my own greedy and stupid hand that led me to these filthy markings," I spit the words out like venom.

The anger, the pain, the guilt—all of it is in my voice as I sneer, "After all that, I just wanted solitude."

I saw her wince at the word solitude. Even now, years later, laced with suffering and sorrow, my request to be alone still caused her pain.

"I am sorry; I did not mean to intrude. No one had heard from you and I was worried. I will leave you to your solitude," she emphasized the last word with disgust.

I was shocked. I could not believe it. Her words…she was concerned—on some level she cared. After what I did to her that night, abandoning her in the most vulnerable of moments, she still had some remnant of feeling for me. In that moment of clarity, I knew that being bound to Marian Hawke was right. I accepted my duty: I could serve her, love her from afar, and know that she at least still cared for me. I could never forgive myself for what I did, but I could atone for the pain I had caused.

"Wait…" I called out. She stopped, her back still facing me.

"I know you think I am a free man now," I struggled with the words. "But, you are wrong."

I closed the distance between us, walking slowly up behind her.

"It is true that I am no longer Danarius' pet, but now…" my voice broke, betraying all the emotion that I was trying to hold back. The pain in my voice called to her and she turned around to face me.

"Now, I am bound to another. And I can not break free this time." I found her eyes, and stared into their depths. I wanted her to know that what I said next was true, and cemented with every emotion I had.

"I have never been worthy of her, but she has shown me great kindness and loyalty. She slowly earned my trust, and has never once broken it. She taught me that people were capable of good, and that they could love freely, for nothing in return. She proved that I could love someone, when I did not think that was possible. She allowed me into her heart, and I abandoned her," I was choking on my words now, the regret and sorrow of all these years, bursting forth.

"So, I will be bound to you, Marian Hawke, until the day I no longer breathe. I ruined what we had, and if the only way I can have you is to serve you, then so be it."

I dropped to my knees in front of her, spent from all the emotions that were raging inside of me. I turned my face downward, the shame of my confession weighing on me. I waited for words from her, not sure that I would want to hear them.

Instead, she knelt down, and gently lifted my chin so that I would meet her gaze. In her eyes, I saw everything I would ever need. Forget air, water, light…it was all worthless if I did not have her as well.

"I belong to you, Fenris—as much as you belong to me" she whispered, so ardently, daring anyone to doubt her statement.

She smashed her lips into mine, my hands found her hips and her arms were around my neck. Everything was fire; I was absolutely consumed by her.

I was finally free, bound to her.