By Blood and Power

BY : Tanwen
Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all)
Dragon prints: 246
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Fenris has never gone from excitement to dread in such a short period of time.

He came — with Hawke and the others — to the Hanged Man to meet his sister. And his sister is there, all right, but she isn't alone. She isn't even technically herself. Fenris has seen the look of vampire-touched far too often not to recognize it. The head tilted slightly to one side, lips perpetually parted in an expression of delight, a glassy look to the eyes as they focus on something inside their own mind.

The vampire that did this to her stands next to her. Danarius. He's been turned in the years that Fenris has been away. Fenris isn't sure that he could have escaped Danarius, had his former master been a vampire. The completely mundane conditioning Danarius performed still makes Fenris wake up in a cold sweat, some nights.

And as a Magister of no small skill, Danarius is a much more powerful vampire than the ones Fenris was previously sent out to kill. Fenris knows he's the one in Hawke's little band with the most experience fighting vampires, but even if the others had his knowledge — well, he's not sure that any of them could have fought it.

Varania isn't the only one that stands in place with a glassy look in their eyes. Hawke — boisterous, laughing Hawke — is completely still, his hand partially lifted as though to cast a spell. Hawke was too slow. Hawke is never too slow.

In fact, Fenris is the only one — of his friends, and the Hanged Man patrons at whole — that still has his own mind. Not that it matters. His body is completely frozen, through some combination of vampiric and 'regular' magic. Danarius smiles, an expression that never means anything good, and steps forward into the complete silence, boots clicking loudly on the uneven wooden floor.

"My little wolf," he purrs, stepping up to brush the back of his hand against Fenris' face. "How you've grown since I last saw you."

"Release them at once." It isn't until the words leave his mouth that Fenris realizes he can still speak. 

"I will release them … in time." Danarius flips his hand around, pats Fenris' cheek, then turns away. "After I've drank my fill."

"No. No, you can't —" Turn Hawke into a vampire? Turn Sebastian and Varric and Isabela into vampires? The thought is utterly terrifying. He fights the spell holding him in place, to no avail.

"There is no one here to stop me, little wolf." Danarius spreads his arms out. "They will all gladly give me their necks and thank me for the pleasure of obeying." As if to prove his point, he walks up to Hawke, whose dark eyes track Danarius' movement. 

"No…"

"Look into my eyes, deep into my eyes," Danarius intones, meeting Hawke's blank gaze. Fenris' stomach flips as he realizes what Danarius intends to do. Everyone in the Hanged Man (including, he realizes, Danarius' retinue) is in a light, almost passive trance. They are frozen in their own minds, distracted and unbothered by the world around them. A vampire who is also a magister (like Danarius) can do that to nearly any amount of people.

Doing anything more than that to a victim is something that requires intense, intimate focus from the vampire. A person alone in a room with a vampire is effectively broken the minute the door closes behind them. 

Danarius will break Hawke. Then he'll move onto the others. He'll make Fenris watch the entire time.

"Your eyes …" Hawke breathes, a sign that Danarius' magic has started to work on him. 

Fenris' stomach drops even further. "No," he whispers, then louder. "NO!"

Danarius ignores him. "That's right, my pretty one. They're so interesting to stare at. So good to let yourself be pulled under."

Hawke's lips part wider. "Under," he says, tilting his chin upwards. 

"You feel my power wrap around you. Feel it bind you to my will."

"Your … will …"

"Stop this!" Fenris shouts. "Danarius, no! It's me you want! It's me! Leave them alone!"

With a practiced air, Danarius moves a hand forward to undo Hawke's belt and loosen his breeches, tugging them down, pushing aside Hawke's smallclothes to free his cock. A vampire's focused gaze steals the will and leaves mindless arousal in its place. Somehow, Danarius and Hawke's gazes stay fastened on each other. "With each stroke—" Danarius takes Hawke in hand, jerking him upwards. " — you go deeper. With each stroke, you are more tightly bound to my will."

"Yes." Maker, but Hawke sounds excited. Fenris screams again, more than a bit mindless himself. He wants to close his eyes and shut all of this out, but he must bear witness since he cannot stop it.

Danarius finally takes his eyes away from Hawke's. It doesn't matter now; the magic has already thoroughly snared Hawke's mind. What's left of it. Danarius opens his mouth, displays gleaming white fangs, and then sinks them into the side of Hawke's neck.

Hawke's eyes close, his head jerks back, and he lets out a series of sounds that are both painful to listen to and undeniably erotic. Fenris feels himself start to grow hard, a shameful reaction that he does his best to quash.

Danarius drinks deeply from Hawke, his hand continuing to stroke up and down. Hawke is moaning continually now, the sounds growing louder, and louder, and … 

Hawke comes in Danarius' hand. Fenris makes himself focus on the color of Hawke's skin, watching for signs that Danarius intends to drain Hawke dry. Maker, no. Please, no. Prayers are all he can do, and he offers them up to a god he has never really believed in. Either the Maker is listening, or Danarius never actually intended to turn Hawke, because he pulls away, patting Hawke's cheek in the exact same manner as he had patted Fenris' earlier.

"The Champion of Kirkwall, completely at my mercy," Danarius says. Fenris barely resists the urge to curse and shout again. He has realized something that should have been obvious: Danarius is putting on a show. For him. "I would gain such status, having him as a fledgling vampire. Taking him to all the best parties and showing him off."

"Say what you want, Danarius," Fenris spits.

"What I have always wanted." Danarius turns around, smiles at him. "You, little wolf. You have seen how my powers have grown. You have seen what I am capable of. I could have turned your precious Champion, or made his binding irrevocable. And that is what I will do if you refuse to come back with me."

He had known. A part of him had known this was what Danarius was building to. It is just Danarius' style — open with a display of strength, then make a demand that cannot be refused. Fenris does not want to go back, of course. What he wants is Danarius dead on the floor and his friends back in their own right minds.

"My cooperation for their lives." His voice is weak, hoarse. "Their … freedom."

"I'm so glad we understand each other." Danarius turns to circle around the room, weaving through Fenris' friends like statues. Heads follow his movement, each enthralled victim wondering if it will be them their vampiric master chooses next. Fenris hopes that a part of all of them is screaming inside at this, but he fears that is not the case.

Danarius stops in front of Isabela. "You would need to be blood-bound, of course." He runs his hands up and down Isabela's sides, feeling the shape of her. It's a shape that Fenris knows well. Theirs is a purely physical relationship, but that does not stop Fenris from feeling a flash of jealousy. "I know you care deeply for these … people, but you are a clever one. I don't trust you not to find a way to run again."

"Your oath, your blood oath," Fenris practically snarls, "that you will leave them alone."

"Once I leave here," Danarius says, putting a hand under Isabela's chin and tilting her head up. She smiles at him in the same mindless ecstasy as Hawke. It looks wrong on Isabela, who always has an air of wry calculation to her. "Once you are bound to me. I think I will let this one watch while I do it. Reverse your current states."

"No. Please." It's infuriating how easily Danarius ignores him, something that the magister-turned-vampire undoubtedly knows. Fenris spares a moment to wonder who made him into a vampire, and how long that person lived after they did so. 

"Look in to my eyes, pretty one," Danarius croons, and Fenris' heart constricts in his chest as Isabela obeys. "She must be a fine lay, to keep you coming back for more." He undoes the laces on her shirt, sliding his hands inside to fondle her breasts. Fenris swears he can see her pulse get faster. "Maybe I'll fuck her properly. Would you like that?"

"Anything you want, Master," Isabela replies in a breathless, airy tone that is about as far from her usual demeanor as it is possible to get. A cold fury fills Fenris. For a moment, it feels as though the bonds that hold him are straining, perhaps even weakening. He has to break them. He has to get to her.

"Say it again." Danarius' attention is wholly on Isabela now. Fenris pushes harder. Maybe he's distracted enough for Fenris to break free.

"Anything you want, Master."

"Take off your clothes and lie on that table."

"Yes, Master." 

Fury. Pain. Fenris is almost mindless himself, struggling, desperate to break loose. A part of him recognizes that this, too, is a deliberate move on Danarius' part. Enrage Fenris so that he wears himself out on a battle he cannot win. The thought doesn't stop him. He can't bear to see Isabela like this.

Danarius walks over to the table Isabela lies on, opening his robes to reveal an already rock-hard cock. Fenris remembers that cock well. He remembers taking it into his mouth. He remembers having it slide into his ass. 

Danarius climbs up onto the table and places his hands by Isabela's head, locking his gaze onto hers once more. "Feel my power sliding around you." He's doing something to his voice, something that makes Fenris' cock jump in spite of the terror. "Wrapping you up. Binding you to my will."

"Bound," Isabela agrees.

"To my will."

"Bound to your will."

"Master."

"Master." The word is a breath, a sigh, as Danarius slides himself into her. Isabela melts under him, familiar moans escaping her lips.

Fenris realizes he has been screaming ever since Isabela lay down on the table. Danarius looks over at him, shakes his head, and then makes a pinching gesture. Fenris' mouth closes and will not open again. His terror grows even stronger as his screams continue inside his own head. 

Smiling, Danarius turns his head, his mouth opening. Fenris doesn't see when he bites Isabela but he's positive that's what happens. Isabela clutches at his arms, his back, pulling him closer to her. Danarius' head is blocking her face, and that suddenly strikes Fenris as a small mercy. 

He does, however, see the moment she climaxes in Danarius' grip, her body going slack with pleasure as Danarius thrusts into her again, and again, and … and … continues drinking all the while. When Isabela is finished, Danarius releases her neck, pulls back and out. He shows Fenris a still-hard cock. "Would you like to finish me off, little wolf?" 

Fenris actually wants to agree, if only so that he doesn't have to watch Danarius fucking Isabela again. Except that his mouth still won't open. Fenris struggles, again, and Danarius smiles. "No? I suppose I'll have to go another round with this lovely thing." He places a hand between Isabela's breasts and mutters something. Golden light surrounds Isabela's body, then vanishes.

He's healed her, Fenris realizes. So he can drink from her again.

Danarius climbs back on the table. Takes Isabela's face in his hands. "This time, when you climax, I want you to be saying my name."

"Yes, Master."

Fenris makes a sound that is apparently loud enough to draw Danarius' attention. The magister looks over at him, laughs, and then turns his attention back to Isabela. Once more he enters her; once more his fangs pierce her skin. It takes three drinks to bind a person to a vampire's will permanently. Fenris prays that this second will be the last.

He has to close his eyes this time, listening to his former master fuck his not-quite-girlfriend. Danarius draws it out, bringing Isabela to the brink multiple times, wringing a wide range of sounds of of her, some of which Fenris has never actually heard before. All mingled with a constant breathy "Master. Master!" that sets Fenris' teeth to grinding.

Danarius finally, finally, pulls away from her and orders her to get dressed and go back to where she was standing before. Fenris' eyes are still closed when Danarius comes up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He feels warmth and desire start to flood through him, along with an inexorable pull towards the owner of that hand. His lips part for the first time in several minutes, letting out a delighted exhalation. His terror vanishes. He can't even remember why he was scared.

"Open your eyes, little wolf."

Fenris obeys and sees his Master. The familiar name comes instantly. Magic surges in his veins, his lyrium tattoos starting to glow. Devotion comes with that surge of magic, and desire. He lifts his chin so he can meet his Master's eyes.

"That's right, little wolf, you want me to take you deeper."

"Deeper," Fenris agrees, letting himself be drawn in. 

"Let my magic fill you. Feel it binding you to my will. Your will is mine."

"My will is yours."

"Almost," his Master purrs. "Repeat after me, little wolf. 'My will belongs to Master.' "

Fenris does so. Master's eyes are absolutely fascinating. Rich liquid pools that are constantly shifting. He could stare into Master's eyes for hours.

"Again, Fenris."

"My will belongs to Master." Desire grows stronger, filling every part of him.

"Continue to repeat that," Master instructs. "Every time you say those words, you are more tightly bound to me. Every time you say those words, your arousal will increase." Master breaks eye contact, reaching down to undo the ties on Fenris' pants. He gently guides Fenris' hand to his erect cock. "Stroke it as you say the words."

"My will belongs to Master. My will belongs to Master." He is lost in himself after only a few repetitions, even as his mouth continues to say the words. Someone else speaks, after a few moments. Says his name. Curses. The voice is familiar, but it doesn't register with Fenris. He is obeying his Master. There is nothing else in the world that matters. 

Master returns to his side, the other voice continuing to shout and swear. "Well done, little wolf." Master presses his lips to the side of Fenris' neck, then opens his mouth — and —

There are no words for what he feels when Master's fangs pierce his skin. He climaxes in that moment, but the physical pleasure is eclipsed by a sense of binding and completion. He is closer to Master than he has ever been and it fills his soul with joy. He could stay in this moment forever. He wants to stay in this moment forever.

"Very good, little wolf," Master whispers, and Fenris shivers in delight. "Are you ready to go again?"

"I … am not sure, Master," Fenris replies. "My body…"

"You do not have my stamina, it is true." Master comes to stand in front of Fenris, locking gazes with him once more. "That's all right. I'll just have to take you deeper."

"My will belongs to Master." The words come almost automatically, given how often he said them while stroking himself. 

The other voice shrieks out a denial. It is trying to talk to him, he knows, but since it is not Master's voice it does not matter. Master smiles. "You've learned your lesson well. You always were a quick study. Now. Open yourself to me."

Fenris is once again drawn into those dark, entrancing pools that are Master's eyes. His mouth opens wider in an expression of sheer happiness as Master's vibrant voice shudders through him, as Master's power wraps around him. Master asks, and Fenris gives.

"Deeper in my power."

"Deeper."

"Your mind is mine. Your body is mine."

"Yours."

"You want to obey. You need to obey."

"Must obey."

And somehow, Fenris is hard again, Master's power coaxing his cock back into an erect state. It is Master who takes Fenris in hand this time, dripping delightful words into his ears as he lovingly strokes Fenris' cock. Master loves him. Fenris knows that because Master tells him, tells him how much he has missed Fenris. Fenris doesn't remember being apart from Master, but he knows it is true because Master says it is. 

Master tells Fenris to tilt his neck, yes, just like that, and Fenris obeys, feeling Master's power flow through him, giving him strength so that Master can take it again. Fenris finds himself shuddering with anticipation, longing for Master's fangs to pierce his skin. 

When they do, Fenris is lost once more, spiraling down further and further into the depths of Master's power. The ties Master has placed on his heart and soul grow tighter, firmer. It will be almost impossible to defy him now. Not that Fenris wants to defy him. He wants to keep sinking, to fully immerse himself in the joy that is his Master, to revel in the ecstasy of completion.

Master pulls away, pats Fenris' shoulder. "Come up gradually, little wolf. Reclaim yourself as you watch me. When your mind is back —" Fenris lets out a whimper of protest at that. Master just smiles. "When your mind is back, your body will remain frozen and no words will come from your mouth."

"Yes, Master," Fenris agrees readily. Master pats his shoulder again, then walks off. He stops by the dwarf with the crossbow and bends down so he can sink his fangs in. This isn't sexual, like it was with Fenris, it's a simple stealing of strength and binding. Fenris has a better understanding of it, now, being twice-bound to Master. He understands it on a level that goes deeper than mere knowledge.

He leaves the dwarf (Varric) with a contented look on his face, and walks over to a human with a bow and quiver of arrows….

Sebastian.

Danarius takes a few moments to steal more of Sebastian's will before he drinks from the archer's neck. Fenris is starting to feel anger and nausea as his personality returns. Being twice-bound seems terrifying, now, when he can remember the ecstasy he felt at that thought mere moments before. He finds that he can move his head and sees Isabela, there, with full intelligence in her eyes and tears on her face. I'm sorry, he thinks at her, knowing it's useless. I'm so sorry that I brought this upon you. Upon you all.

Fenris had thought he was safe. And perhaps he had been, until some fool turned Danarius into a vampire. Once that had happened…

He refuses to let the thought finish, refuses to wallow in despair. He will need all of his strength to go through with what Danarius wants. And he will, because seeing Hawke and Varric and Sebastian standing there with glassy, empty looks on their faces is sheer agony.

Danarius circles back to Hawke and meets Hawke's eyes. Fenris tenses, expecting Danarius to drink again, but he only trances Hawke, gives him a few commands that Fenris doesn't catch, and then moves on. Back to Isabela. He whispers in her ear, and then she actually moves, runs over to Fenris and pulls him into an embrace. Fenris finds that he can move, too, arms tightening around her back as he holds her. He knows this will be the last time, and wonders why Danarius has done this.

"Awaken," Danarius says, and a moment later the room is filled with angry shouts. Hawke. Varric. Sebastian. Cursing Danarius and demanding to be let loose, as Fenris had earlier. Fenris tunes them out, focuses on Isabela. He might have loved her, in time, despite everything they said about keeping feelings out of their relationship. He'll never know now.

"Little wolf." The command in Danarius' voice pulls Fenris' attention away, even as he hates himself for responding. He can still hold Isabela, but he's now looking into that familiar, hated face and trying not to look at those hypnotic eyes. Danarius has a knife in his right hand, and he draws a line across his left palm. Blood drops to the floor. "I give you my oath, as vampire and magister, that I will leave all those left behind with their own wills and their own minds. They will be free from my control. I will not trouble them again, unless you break your oath to me."

Fenris nods, takes a deep breath to steel himself. "As long as you hold to that oath, I will return with you. I will permit myself to be … to be bound a third time." His body shakes, or maybe it's just Isabela, shaking him and saying No, no. "I will serve you willingly and not try to escape."

Danarius' fangs gleam with anticipation. "Thank you kindly, Fenris. And thank you for leaving me some room." Fenris' stomach goes cold, and he frantically thinks back over the words, trying to find what is making Danarius so pleased…

"Fenris. Isabela. By the blood I have taken from you, I compel you both."

Fenris has a moment to think No, he can only do that to one of us at a time before the power hits him and he realizes he was wrong. They are both twice-bound, and Danarius — Danarius, not Master (not yet) — has just strengthened himself on Varric and Sebastian.

"Isabela. Fenris is an instrument of my will."

"Fenris is an instrument of your will," Isabela repeats, her eyes gone glassy. Their friends shout protests.

"Fenris. Isabela is an instrument of my will."

He feels the last of his resistance vanish, his focus turning entirely to his Master. "Isabela is an instrument of your will, Master."

"You will both do my will. All the attraction you feel for the other, you now also feel for me."

They inhale at the same time, mirrors of each other. Fenris remembers how he used to love Master. Past and present feelings mix together. He stares at Isabela, an instrument of his Master's will.

"You will express your attraction for me through the other. Here and now. You will fuck as though you are alone together, though you will be aware that your friends are watching. So put on a good show for them."

Fenris' mouth is on Isabela's as soon as Master finishes speaking. She kisses him back hungrily. They maneuver backwards until they find a wall. Fenris knows exactly how Isabela likes to be taken — firmly and confidently. Rough is a 'sometimes' thing for them; apparently now is not one of those times.

His pants got kicked off somewhere along the way. He undoes the ties on Isabela's clothes, starts getting her ready with his fingers. He loves it when he can make her come more than once; he loves feeling her shudder and squirm under his touch. But she's impatient, now, hot with her need for him and her desire to please their Master. She reaches down to push his hand out of the way, and he obligingly replaces his fingers with his cock. She lifts up one of her legs, hooks it around his waist; he keeps a hand on her other hip to steady them both. 

Fenris thrusts into her and hears three sighs from behind him, all in different, familiar tones. Curiosity gets the better of him and he spares a moment to look over his shoulder. Hawke, Varric, and Sebastian all have their own hard cocks out, resting in their hands, masturbating as they watch Fenris and Isabela. Well, Master did say that he and Isabela would be aware that their friends were watching. He sees Master walk over to Sebastian, standing behind him, placing his hand on top of Sebastian's and leaning in with his fangs extended.

Fenris puts them out of his mind as he turns back to Isabela. He is fucking their Master when he thrusts into Isabela. She is fucking their Master when she presses against Fenris' body. He kisses her neck, licking the dried blood from where their Master bit her earlier. The sweet tangy taste sends a shudder through his body, making him speed up his thrusts. "Master," he moans, and hears the word echoed from Isabela. They are instruments of their Master's will. Together. They repeat his name, their voices blending together, breath hitching as their arousal builds. 

"Come, my pets." It is as though Master is standing right next to them, when Fenris knows he is not. Nevertheless, he obeys unthinkingly, spilling his seed inside Isabela in the same moment that her body goes completely limp against his. Fenris' mouth is busy moaning, so he continues the chant in his mind. Master. Master. 

Then Master is actually there, his fangs sinking into Fenris' neck. Fenris tilts his head back, away from Isabela, so that Master may drink his fill. He is consumed by Master's power, his soul once more filled with that impossible ecstasy of belonging. The power whispers Mine to him; Fenris responds instantly with Yours. Third time is irrevocable. For the rest of his life, Fenris will serve his Master, and take great pleasure in doing so.

Master finishes the binding and withdraws. Fenris feels his mind returning to him, faster than before. Master could have taken his will entirely, and a part of Fenris regrets that did not happen. As long as he serves his Master, he will remember how that came to be. He will remember that he entered into this of his own free will, to save his friends.

"Prepare yourself to leave, Fenris," Master says, and Fenris backs away from Isabela. He will miss her. He is grateful that Master gave him this one last time —

Master sinks his teeth into Isabela's neck, sending a shock through Fenris' body. That wasn't the deal. But the oath is still binding; Fenris can feel it. He remembers the look of triumph on Master's face when Fenris offered his oath…

Then he has it. Those left behind. Isabela will not be left behind. Isabela is coming with them.

Joy and horror mix together. He will not be parted from Isabela, but she belongs to Master too. Enough of the old Fenris is left to regret this. He knows that she fled something like this, before, and now she is trapped, and it is his fault. His fault. His…

Isabela comes to him when he has finished getting his clothes on, taking his hand. He knows she is feeling the same things. He realizes that Isabela is most likely additional insurance for Fenris' cooperation. If Fenris tries anything, Isabela will bear the punishment. Fenris closes his eyes and tries not to cry. He has not cried in years.

Sebastian joins them. Only twice-bound, but apparently Master wants to take him too. Not Hawke. Not Varric. Please.

Fear not, little wolf. Master's voice is inside his head. I will not get too greedy. The Starkhaven prince is for prestige more than anything else. Now, attend me.

Fenris opens his eyes and turns to look at Master, as do Sebastian and Isabela. Master stands in between Hawke and Varric. His friends' pants are still around their ankles, limp cocks hanging between their legs.

Master places a hand on each of their shoulders. "You desire each other," he says in the voice that Fenris now knows is dripping with magic, ensuring their obedience. "You will begin fucking as soon as I leave. Fully aware that others can see you. That knowledge will only fuel your arousal and need for the other. This experience will stay with you for the rest of your lives. This is my final command to you, so make it a good one."

"Yes, Master," Hawke and Varric chorus, their focus now entirely on each other. Master smiles, steps back over to his retinue. They have all simply stood there while Master played with Fenris and his friends. All wearing identical expressions of perfect obedience.

"Come," Master says. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

Fenris, Isabela, and Sebastian all take their places with the others and follow him out of the Hanged Man, out of Kirkwall, into their new lives.



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