Disclaimer: Dragon Age and its universe is the creation of the people from Bioware and not mine. I make not profit in writing this.

Rated M: This is for the graphic nature of the story. There will be plenty of violence, language, and sex in the coming chapters. So have fun.

Author Notes: Alternating POVs between Anders & Fenris

Chapter One: The Crime of Living

Anders woke, cold. It was cold with a chill from the everlasting dank stone walls of the circle tower's basement cells. Quiet with concentration, Anders laid against the wall of his cell with lyrium-infused shackles around both his wrists and neck. A crude and terrible device used by the templars to prevent a mage from using any sort of magic. This had been his fifth attempt at escape, thus the harsher than usual punishment. He had gotten as far as High Hill before one of Knight-Commander Greagoir's lackeys had swooped down and forced him back to the circle tower.

Next escape, he would be wise to go to Denerim and find his phylactery.

Anders curled into a small tight ball, hugging himself to ease the growing strain across his shoulders. A small groan escaped the young man as he slowly forced himself to relax, muscle by muscle, and joint by joint. There was a presence in the air that Anders could not quite put his finger on. With a bit of effort from the mage he managed to lift his face that was buried into his chest and lazily opened his eyes. Amber was greeted with daring blue.

"…Maker, say something next time. Or were you just admiring the view?" Anders spoke with certain hoarseness in his voice, but still managed to add in a touch of humor.

Before him was the slight figure of a young woman with skin of alabaster and hair of silky ebony. Anders had seen the young woman a number of times around the tower but had never really spoken to her due to him being a full-fledge mage and her still an apprentice. What was her name? That was right, it was Solona. She was a pretty little thing, but far too quiet. It was unnerving. Until she flashed a small smile and Anders felt more relaxed. There was something in her hands, but the darkness prevented him from seeing as to what it was.

"…I just wanted to bring you this. Since you'll be down here a while." She spoke softly and brought the object through the bars. It was a small, square-shaped, hand-embroidered pillow. The pillow his mother gifted him with before being taken by the templars all those years ago.

Anders shifted from his position with another pained groan as he moved closer to the bars of his cell, scooting his legs across the stone floors that were distorted with dirt and a bit of molded straw. He gingerly accepted the soft, but lumpy, pillow into his hands. Her fingers grazed across his scarred ones and there was such gentleness in her eyes. His heart panged. "T-thank you." Anders mumbled as he leaned against the cold steel bars and continued to enjoy the small physical comfort she offered him.

Despite not even really knowing one another they were able to give each other a bit of solace.

Fenris had been in an incredible amount of pain. His dreams that night had been plagued with the fade, but with a sweet distant sound of a song. As to what it was, it was hard to tell. It hummed and reverberated around him as if it were coming from his very being. There were shadows in the mist and a name being called, but it was lost to his ears. As much as he ran towards these shadows, they eluded his chase. Why couldn't he reach them? It seemed important.


Eyes of emerald shot open and all memory of the dream were lost to him. A silent scream escaped his throat as the pain continued to sear throughout his entire body as he sat up from the cot he currently occupied. Wild eyes searched around him and for the life of him, he could not remember where he was. None of it seemed familiar. He hadn't even a clue as to how he had gotten himself there. For that matter, he could not seem to remember himself.

Brows scrunched together in an annoyed fashion as bare feet swung off the cot and landed softly upon the marbled floor. A hiss of pain escaped him. That was when he noticed a faint blue glow. Where was it coming from? Eyes looked over his bare thighs, legs, and feet. He was glowing. Was this normal? No, that did not seem right.

In a mild panic Fenris stood to only have his legs give way beneath him and land upon the floor with a small thud. His entire nude form writhed in extremely pain. This time his voice found itself way to the surface as he howled out a piercing screaming that sounded bestial.

"I see my little wolf has finally awakened."

Sprawled out on the floor the nude form of the elf weakly looked up towards the source of the voice. What stood before him, it was the only thing he could remember. His little bit of assurance in his existence of the world. Yes. This man was what he needed. His master.

"Master Danarius…?" His voiced sounded incredibly pathetic, but it seemed to please the magister all the same.