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Exit Light, Enter Night	By : Tanwen Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 5190 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 1
They’re gone. They’re gone, and she can breathe again.
Audra Hawke turns her focus to the Nightmare demon in front of her. She’s done her part. The Inquisitor, and Varric, and Alistair — they’ve exited the Fade. They’ll get to safety, eventually. Then they’ll probably turn right back around and put themselves in the line of danger again, but there’s nothing she can do about that.
She has her own problems to face now.
Audra pushes a stray lock of her short chestnut brown hair out of her face, and brings up her sword and shield, though what good it will do her with a demon this large is beyond her. It’s all she can think to do.
The Nightmare laughs, a booming and resonant sound that sends a shock through her body. It is suddenly even more massive than before. She cannot stop the fear from pulsing through her, even though she knows that is exactly what it wanted to accomplish.
Tendrils of black nothingness snake towards her. Audra slices at one, then another, but there are too many for her to fight. In seconds, her body has been seized, her limbs covered in the blackness of the Nightmare. She struggles, trying to shake herself free, trying not to panic, but she fails on both counts.
A second after she loses the fight, the blackness takes her completely.
Audra wakes up somewhere else. The geography of the Fade is unpredictable and sometimes nonsensical, and she has no way of knowing how far they have traveled. Perhaps not far, she realizes. The Nightmare would have wanted to hold her in its territory, where it controls everything.
She tries not to shiver at that thought. She cannot see a way out right now, but that does not mean that she will give up. She is Audra Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. She faced down the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter of Kirkwall’s Circle and lived to tell the tale.
“I will survive this,” Audra says to herself, as though saying the words aloud will make them more true.
She hears the Nightmare’s laugh again, muted from before — though it still sends a shiver through her. Audra twists her head, and for the first time she realizes that she is suspended in mid-air. The bonds holding her are invisible, but firm. She cannot move her arms or legs at all. She can twist her head from side to side, but no more than that.
When she has finished the exploration of her surroundings, she catches sight of a shimmering figure directly in front of her. Audra’s breath catches in her throat.
She knows that it is the Nightmare taking a form to unnerve and unsettle her — to make her react. Well, it’s succeeded. She can’t take her eyes off the perfectly sculpted form of a man. He looks like an idealized version of Sebastian, who was already too good-looking to be true. His features are perfect, strong and chiseled without being too hard. He is wearing tight-fitting clothing that shows off his rippling, defined muscles. His hair is rich and golden, perfectly complementing his bronzed skin.
The Nightmare smiles at her, showing perfectly white teeth. When he speaks, his voice is like liquid velvet, sending shivers up her spine. “Are you comfortable, my dear?”
Audra sets her jaw and declines to answer. The Nightmare’s smile grows wider. “Is that any way to answer my hospitality? I have taken you away from the danger posed by the other inhabitants of the Fade. I have made you comfortable, including taking a form that you find pleasing.” He tilts his head to the side. “Perhaps there is another form you would find more attractive?”
And then the Nightmare’s appearance shifts again, this time into the slightly shabby form of Anders as she last saw him, in that dank cave they had most recently called home. The features were the ones that she knew so well, worry-lines around his eyes and mouth. Audra squeezed her eyes shut. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t really Anders.
The Nightmare takes her chin in his hand and caresses her face. Audra isn’t able to stop the shiver of pleasure that runs through her at the intimate gesture. When he speaks, his voice is low, like Anders’ when they are alone together in the nook which holds their bed. “I can feel your yearning. Such a sweet emotion - equal parts sorrow and desire. Complex emotions are the best to feed on. My brethren which restrict themselves to one or the other are missing out.”
“Is this how you’re going to break me?” Audra asks. She does her best to put steel into her voice. She has to remain defiant, for however long she can. She does not want to think about the fact that she will — might, dammit — fail eventually.
The Inquisitor, Varric, and Alistair — they think she is as good as dead. It’s possible that Varric and Anders might try to mount a rescue attempt sometime in the future. If it comes soon enough, she might be able to hold out. To hold onto herself and not let the Nightmare take and corrupt her.
“And why are you so certain that you will be broken? That I will corrupt you?” The look on the Nightmare’s face is dejected, a disappointed Anders after she forbade him to follow her to Skyhold. “All I have done so far is offer courtesy and a safe place. There are many out there who would hurt you, you know.”
“You’re hurting me now by using Anders’ face,” Audra replies through gritted teeth.
The Nightmare pouts, and shifts back to the too-handsome Sebastian in the blink of an eye. Audra thinks about protesting about this one too, but at least it isn’t the real Sebastian. She will need to pick her battles in the days to come.
“Thank you,” she says, deciding to play his game. For a little while, at least.
“Finally, we begin to come to an understanding!” The Nightmare beams at her, inviting her to return a smile of her own. She does so, albeit unwillingly. The Nightmare’s gaze becomes more intense than before, smile shifting to predatory. Not good.
Time to change the subject. “So if it’s not ‘broken and corrupted’ that you’re going for … why did you take me? Why are you holding me now?” Audra asks, trying to maintain her composure. Calm and unruffled, that’s the trick.
“Oh, it’s really quite simple. I intend to have you serve me, Audra Hawke. Willingly and gladly.” It trails its hand down the nape of her neck before bringing it back to rest against her cheek. She shudders, at both the touch and the words. “When I am done, you will look upon me with complete love and devotion.”
“You’re repulsive,” Audra shoots back. “I won’t go along with it.”
The Nightmare leans in and kisses her. She struggles to pull away, but is trapped. She can feel the heat of its body pressed against hers, the pressure of an erection. She keeps fighting until it backs away.
“Soon enough, my dear, that will not be so repulsive to you,” it croons. “I will leave you to think on what I have said.”
It vanishes in a blink. Audra curses loudly for several long minutes, using every epithet that she’s ever heard. It feels good to vent the anger, frustration, and fear that she’s currently experiencing.
There has to be a way out of this. She isn’t beaten so easily.
Audra is good at fighting, at hitting with her sword and blocking with her shield. She’s strong, and tough, and part of the reason that she became Champion of Kirkwall was that her body refused to give into the punishment it endured. No matter how many times she was hit - by darkspawn, by bandits, by rogue mages - it was never enough to keep her out of the fight for long.
Here, the battle is not a physical one. She has no idea how to deal with an enemy that is inside her head. Under her skin. Reading her, as she’s seen Isabela do to unsuspecting Hanged Man patrons - finding which buttons to push to get a reaction out of her.
She has to find a way to fight back and defend herself against the Nightmare’s attacks. Audra’s never been the self-reflective type. Debates over philosophy and politics bore her to tears and make her want to go in search of something to hit.
Well. There’s one obvious target for her to hit, but somehow she doesn’t think that the Nightmare is inclined to give her that chance.
Audra turns the problem over in her head, trying to come up with some kind of plan. Or plans. She probably needs more than one.
Eventually, though, she feels sleep start to tug at her. Even before the Nightmare took her, she’d been exhausted, having fought a good many of its minions with the others. She starts imagining what they’re doing, back at Skyhold, and those thoughts carry her into sleep.
She’s lying on her back in a luxurious bed, arms and legs spread wide. Anders stands over her, smiling, his golden hair seeming to shimmer slightly in the early morning sunlight. “I missed you,” he says.
“I missed you, too,” Audra replies, smiling. Anders leans in and kisses her. She closes her eyes and lets herself revel in the sensations. His hands come in to caress her breasts, with just the right amount of roughness to keep her arousal building. She arches her back and feels the desire to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, but her hands aren’t moving. It seems strange.
Anders’ touch lightens, his fingers starting to trace gently over her erect nipples. She whines a little. He knows it’s the fastest way to get her wet and ready for him, and she doesn’t mind in the least. Her back arches, her hips brushing his. Her mouth parts to let out the happy sighs coming in time to Anders’ movements.
She wants to touch him, but her hands won’t move.
“Ready for me, love?” he asks.
Her answer is an even sharper whine than before. Anders chuckles, the sound seeming deep and resonant, warming her from her core outwards.
She wants to touch him.
Anders slides himself inside her, large and thick and oh Maker that feels so good. His skin is tingly against hers, as though he’s passing some kind of electricity to her. She presses herself against him, craving more.
“You’re mine,” he says.
Audra moans her agreement, moving her hips, feeling his responses. Impossibly, his erection seems to be growing larger, pressing against every inch of her insides. It has to be some - the cliched phrase won’t leave her mind - magic trick.
She has to admit it’s a good one.
“I need to hear you say it, dearest Audra, my love.” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust. “Say that you’re mine.”
Audra takes several breaths, trying to get herself to the point where she can speak. Anders is doing a particularly good job of overloading her. She’s barely clinging to coherent thought, and she wants nothing more than to let go and enjoy all of this.
But he wants her to affirm what she’s told him a hundred times, so she has to concentrate. Anything for him.
“Yours,” she manages to gasp out.
Anders roars in triumph, a noise that seems strange - and then her orgasm hits, and she forgets everything.
She’s strangely detached from her body, seeming to almost float above it as it writhes under Anders’ attentions. She still feels the joy, the bliss that he’s brought her. At the same time, it’s hard to actually … feel.
As though something has invaded her mind and clouded her thoughts.
The thought vanishes in an instant as another jolt of that strange electricity runs through her. Audra moans. For a long time, the sound of her own pleasure is the only thing she can hear.
When she finally has to pause, to gulp in air, she hears Anders whispering to her. The words are distant. The more she strains to hear, the further they seem to become. But he’s still on top of her.
“ … my words …”
He’s still generating that electricity, more of a low consistent hum now.
“ … so open and receptive …”
Hands grasp at her breasts, massaging, brushing across her nipples. He is still impossibly hard inside her. She realizes that she isn’t positive that he managed to climax.
“ … want to please …”
Audra tries to shake off this strange lassitude that has come over her. She tries to move her hands, to speak. Anders hits her with another pulse, and she’s back to moaning. Something is not right…
“ … but it feels too good to fight it …”
Yes. This is Anders. She …
“… trust me completely …”
She trusts him completely.
“Sleep, dearest Audra.”
Blackness.
Audra wakes to blackness.
She’s still in the exact same position she was before, held spread-eagled above the ground by invisible bonds. She can’t tell how long she’s been out.
The memory of a dream flits at the edge of her awareness. The more she tries to grasp it, the further away it seems. Anders was in it, and he made her feel good. Audra sighs. Little wonder that her subconscious served that up to her.
She cranes her head as far as she’s able. The blackness extends in all directions around her. Has she been moved to a different part of the Fade? No, it’s more likely that the Nightmare did something to black out the area. Seems fitting, somehow, given what it is.
Audra sighs, testing the bonds again, and goes back to thinking about how she can get out of this. The Nightmare seemed very convinced that it could eventually bend her to its will, so the sooner she escapes, the less time it will have to fuck with her mind.
The only option that presents itself is to appear to go along with its plan, make it think it’s succeeded more than it actually has. Then, it might drop its guard around her and give her a chance to escape.
But … if she changes her tone too quickly, it might get suspicious.
Demons are simple creatures, she tells herself. It won’t be able to spot the lie. It’ll take it as an indication of how powerful it is, how much influence it’s managed to gain over me in such a short period of time.
She’d have to be open and receptive to the Nightmare. She’d have to appear to want to please it.
A strangely familiar electricity spreads through her at that thought. She strains in her bonds, her head tilting back and her mouth opening. She feels … aroused.
Panic brings her back to herself. Something had happened to her while she slept. That dream was …
Off to the one corner, she sees a light. A small pulse that grows as it moves towards her until it fills her vision. Gently swirling blues, yellows, and greens mix together in an endlessly changing pattern. Audra finds herself drawn to it. Her panic fades, and she stares into the light.
Very good. The voice is hers and not hers, the thoughts come from inside her head, but she didn’t have them.
There’s nothing to worry about, dearest Audra. You trust me.
“… shit,” Audra says. Something is wrong. She doesn’t know what it is, but something — is —
Relax. Look at the pretty light, Audra. See how it draws your gaze in. The colors swirling round and round …
A hard cock slides inside her in a single, impossibly fluid motion. She feels it pulsing inside her, putting pressure on her sensitive walls. Her fear is washed away by her rapidly building arousal. Her mouth opens, her eyes still fixed on the light. It is very pretty. Captivating.
Every swirl of the light takes a thought away, until there is nothing left.
Her lover takes one of her nipples into his mouth and nips at it gently before swirling his tongue around the edges. Audra gaps, clenching herself around the cock inside her.
So empty. So receptive.
Her thoughts are growing hazier. She wants to let go. She wants to be washed away in this. In him. But that’s not a good idea …
But why is it not a good idea? Do you not trust me?
“I trust you,” she says, almost automatically.
Completely.
“Completely.”
He kisses her mouth, his tongue slipping inside to dance with hers. But the sensations around her breast haven’t stopped. How …
Your mind is empty. You cannot think.
Now her other breast is receiving the same attention. Three mouths, and a cock, all pushing at her, flooding her body with pleasure. What’s happening is physically impossible for one person to be doing. She doesn’t care.
Audra surrenders to the sensations. She has no other choice, really; they’re too overwhelming to ignore, and it isn’t worth fighting when it’s making her feel so good. She starts to move against the cock, her moans muffled by the lips still fastened on hers. She feels the delight her lover experiences at knowing she has opened herself up to him.
Yes, Audra, her lover croons inside her head. That’s it.
Her eyes close as her climax hits, but she swears that she can still see the light on her inner eyelids. Swirling. Taking all her barely-formed thoughts away, before they have a chance to settle in. A smile spreads across her face, her lips part to let a soft exhalation out. Maker, but this feels good. She’s sure that she’s never been this blissed out after sex before. She could just lie here forever. No thoughts. No cares.
Very good. He traces a finger down her cheek, and she shivers at the touch. She’s still so sensitive, as though they’ve just started the foreplay. She isn’t sure why. More importantly, she doesn’t care why. It’s one of the many incongruities that has accumulated since her lover came to her, all of which have been overlooked.
You’re mine. He starts to kiss her neck. She moans, tries to move her hands. She wants to pull him to her and run her hands over his back. You know that, don’t you.
“Yes,” she breathes, still smiling.
Look at me.
His words carry a strange compulsion with them, and despite her reluctance, Audra opens her eyes.
The Nightmare (oh, Maker, it was the demon the whole time) is wearing the idealized Sebastian form again. He seems to glow from within, his smile wicked and seductive.
Shit. Shitshitshit.
“You must know what I am when you give yourself to me,” he — it, dammit, it — tells her. “You must look at me, and say the words of your own free will.”
“Free will,” she snarls, fighting against the desire that rises in her at the sight of him, at the thought of once again giving herself over to his touch. He’s fucking her mind along with her body and it’s both repulsive and alluring. She can remember, all too easily, how good that mind-fucking felt. “You’ve done a very good job of eroding that.”
The Nightmare laughs and leans in to kiss her. Her resistance vanishes so fast, it might never have existed in the first place. When he pulls back, she’s feeling flushed, a hair’s breadth away from whimpering in protest. “I could not have done it if you were not physically present in the Fade,” he says. “That gives me much more room to … maneuver … than if I were merely visiting you in dreams.” He touches her cheek. “And what I am doing is definitely a nightmare of yours, dear Audra. The Champion of Kirkwall, who makes the decisions about who lives and who dies — who treads her own path, beholden to no one.” His hand trails down to her left breast, cupping it, running his thumb over her hardening nipple. “I am taking away that control you keep over yourself. Whittling away the choices available to you.”
Nug shit. He’s dead on with that one. She even knows why it’s a particular nightmare of hers. After being driven from their home in Lothering, having to ask Gamlen for help getting into Kirkwall, then having to work off that debt with Athenril —
She remembers how eagerly she jumped at the chance to buy in to the Tethras expedition as an equal partner. How fucking satisfying it was to come back from the Deep Roads laden with money and buy the Amell mansion. She was set up for life. She could work for herself, for her friends, for Bethany in the Circle.
And this asshole demon is trying to take that away from her.
“I won’t let you.” She struggles even harder against the bonds.
The Nightmare tips his head back in ecstasy, lips parting. “Ahhh. Fear. Panic. Desperation. So sweet. So wonderful.”
The black tendrils that he used before start snaking out from him, towards her. Blackness covers her feet, then her ankles, working its way up her legs slowly. Her panic grows stronger. She barely feels the electric tingle that the blackness brings with it.
As it creeps up her body, inch by agonizing inch, the Nightmare takes her chin in his hand and forces her to meet his gaze. “Trust me,” he says.
Audra knows the calm that comes over her is unnatural. She knows she should still be panicky, fighting the sensations that are wearing down her mental barriers. She knows that the demon (the fucking demon) has engendered this state of calm anticipation.
None of that makes her any more able to fight it.
The blackness stops at the edge of her chin, where the Nightmare’s hand still rests. She’s lost in his eyes, those clear and bright blue eyes that she always admired. From a distance. Looking never hurt anybody…
“Trust me,” he says again. Her body pulses with a soft, electric tingle, and the last of her resistance melts away.
“I trust you,” she says, her voice dreamy and far away. She can’t remember why she was fighting this, not with how good it’s making her feel. She wants to close her eyes and bask in the sensations.
But he hasn’t released her yet.
You trust me completely, dearest Audra, he whispers in her mind.
“Yes.” Lost in those eyes. Drifting. Floating…
Open to me. His tone is coaxing, gentle. Open yourself up to me. You have seen what I can bring you. You have seen the gifts I offer. It will all be yours, once you give yourself to me entirely.
She wants to, and she tries, but finds herself unable to. A part of her is screaming, fighting back. The screams are so dim and distant, easily ignored.
But, apparently, still enough to keep her lover out.
He sighs and releases her chin. “No matter,” he says, patting her cheek. “That pesky bit of resistance will be gone soon enough.”
The black tendrils move as soon as his hand leaves, up her neck, covering her ears - her eyes, her nose and mouth. She finds she can still breathe normally. For a few seconds, that’s the only thing she’s aware of - her breath exiting out her mouth, her heart beating in her chest.
Then his thoughts slide into her mind - gentle, coaxing. You belong to me. You trust me completely. The tendrils move, stroking her, leaving electric tingles in their wake.
Your only desire is to serve me. Your only wish, to please me.
Movement. Pulsing. Her breath starts coming faster, her body heating up under the coating of those impossibly sensuous tendrils.
The phrases repeat. The sentence structure changes, different words are used, but the message is the same. She is his. She will do anything he asks of her, and gladly. The endless sensation of electricity on her skin has driven away all thought and left her mind completely open.
Audra comes hard, still held in place — allowed to arch her back and writhe under the intense orgasm, but no more. When she is finished, she hangs there for a few long moments, gasping, trying to get her bearings.
Then it starts all over again.
She loses track of how many cycles he puts her through — his words whispering in her mind, delving into the deepest parts of her self, while his magic floods her body. She is never allowed more than a few moments to rest between orgasms.
When she finally starts to beg for it to stop, after yet another shattering orgasm, the sensation doesn’t start up again after the usual break. Her body seems to realize that it has been given a reprieve, and responds by passing out.
Audra wakes up in an actual bed.
It is monstrous, twice as big as the one at her estate. Four people could easily sleep in it, and still be comfortable. She reaches behind her head and feels three pillows there. The sheets she lays on are made of the softest silk, snugly cradling her still-exhausted body.
Altogether, it is an impossible luxury. Then again, what is real in the Fade is what you think is real, and apparently her demon lover wished this to be real for her.
The door to this bedchamber opens, and he walks in. She will never mistake him for Sebastian again. There is too much majesty and confidence in him — the way he walks, the way he smiles at her. He already knows that his plan worked. He knows that he was able to change her mind.
“Sleep well, my dear?” he asks. His clothes vanish as he lifts the covers and slides in next to her, pulling her in for a deep kiss.
She melts in his embrace. She doesn’t have the energy to do anything else — but more importantly, she doesn’t want to do anything else. She wants this. Wants him.
He finally breaks the kiss. “I am sorry that I had to push your poor mortal body so far. You were being quite stubborn, dearest Audra. But I see that will no longer be a problem.”
“No, it won’t,” she assures him. She meets his eyes and smiles, on the edge of being lost in them yet again. She could look at his beautiful, perfect face forever.
His smile is wry. “Let’s test that, shall we?” He kisses her again, leaving her breathless and gasping. His hand brushes the back of her neck.
Suddenly her fatigue is gone and she feels so alive. She breaks the kiss, clutching at the bedsheets in shock.
“Only temporary, I’m afraid. You’ll need to sleep again when this is done.” He shifts so that he is lying on his back, his cock hardening before her eyes. “But quite necessary if you are to properly please me. Which you will.”
Audra knows by his tone that this is not a request. She scoots herself down to his groin and takes him into her mouth.
Very good, Audra. The words are accompanied by a soft, warm tingle that spreads from her head downwards. She resists the temptation to stop and simply enjoy that reward, knowing that he will be happier if she keeps going.
She takes her time with his cock, losing herself in the mindless motions. Her head bobs, her hands press down against his legs to give herself leverage to move. The electricity of his magic returns, but stays at a low, consistent hum — warming her and pushing her forward without overloading her. He wants her focused and motivated. And she is.
When he comes, she feels his magic wrapping around her, holding her in place, forcing her to accept his seed. Then it permeates through every part of her body, filling her, finding no resistance — no cracks in her new-found devotion to him.
And so you do serve me now, Audra Hawke. You view me with complete love and trust.
The energy he gifted her is starting to recede, but she manages a sleepy nod, an affirmation of his words. Yes. She will do anything he asks of her.
Good. Rest, dearest Audra. When you have recovered … then we can begin the next stages.
- 1
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Exit Light, Enter Night