Kumquats and Persimmons

By: Emantsal

A/N I started out trying my best to write a little lemmony piece with lots of fluff and silliness, and of course a lot of smexy goodness. I have no idea where all the kumquats and persimmons came from. And the angst! OMG the angst! PMS overload…

Please R&R if you get a chance.

Standard Bioware Disclaimer: Bioware owns all characters, places, etc… and my soul.

Fenris watched the dwarf hurry back through the mansion towards the kitchen. Apparently it wasn't wise to leave Sandal alone for too long when tasty things were bubbling on the stove; and, apparently Orana was not feeling well. The slightly addled servant paused only long enough to direct the elf towards the back garden with some cryptic remark about an unseemly activity for a Kirkwall noble woman.

Placing the book he'd brought to return to Hawke on a table in the hall, the elf followed the sounds of laughter, cursing, splashing water and… was that whining? What in the Maker's name was she up to now, he wondered, having almost grown used to the many crazy situations Hawke managed to get herself into on a regular basis.

Preparing himself for anything, since he was dealing with Hawke here, he opened the door leading to the back garden and immediately froze.

"Piddles!" she screaked as the massive war dog shook the soapy water from his beautiful brown coat. She'd named him Piddles because what's what he did all over the floor when he was a puppy. Barking as his mistress, the war hound ran in circles, shaking suds and water everywhere. Grabbing him around his massive neck, Hawke wound up sitting in the muddy water beside the large tub she'd been attempting to coax the big dog into. It was a good thing she'd changed into a pair of old cut off pants and an old, mostly threadbare shirt she'd tied up under her ample breast. The golden locks she'd piled haphazardly on top of her head bounced in the midday sun.

Getting up she bent over at the waist to grab the soapy rag she'd been scrubbing her pet with. Even though he was a war dog who'd seen his share of battles, at home he was the pampered pet of the Champion of Kirkwall, and as such, an inside dog who lounged on expensive leather furniture. Hence… the bath. Of course she usually had Orana helping her, but today the young elf was in bed with a summer cold. She would have asked her mother, but Leandra was visiting her brother, Gamlen today. She was happy that brother and sister had at last reconciled and actually enjoyed spending time together.

When Hawke had come down for breakfast, she'd found the slight elf sneezing as she prepared breakfast, her frail form shivering with a fever. Without another thought, Hawke had ordered her to bed for the rest of the day and had sent Bodhan to fetch Anders.

So, here she was, dripping wet, laughing, cursing, and generally having a ball trying to get one wiggly, monstrously huge dog clean enough to be allowed back inside. Right now, in this moment, she was not Kirkwall's newest darling of the nobility, she was not an apostate mage… she was just a dog washer, and it was glorious.

Just inside the doorway, Fenris froze, the sight before him burning itself into his memory. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, sparkling on the tub of water and wet grass surrounding Hawke. Outside the walls of the garden, the sounds of the city could be heard, while inside, a languid bee buzzed inside a flower on his left.

Across the small lawn, Hawke was bent over at the waist; her plump ass encased in cut off pants that revealed long tan legs, bare feet, and just a hint of the plump curves he vividly remembered running his hands over, curves he'd gripped tight that night that was burned into his memory… His gauntleted hands clenched as memories flooded his brain… memories of her soft and moaning beneath him, memories of her gasping his name as she came apart in his arms… memories of stroking those curves as they fell asleep…

"Damn it Piddles, hold still you big harry mutt!" she exclaimed with a laugh, trying to wrestle the spoiled pooch closed to the tub so she could retrieve the large cup she'd been dipping water out with to rinse him off. Upon discovering that the cup had drifted to the other side of the large tub, she just decided to try, one more time, to get the big dog to get in the tub. Maker, this was so much easier when Orana was here to help her. The big lug absolutely adored the diminutive elf and did whatever she said. Squatting, she hefted the meaty mongrel's front paws into the tub and followed with pushing on his rump.

"Come on you big shit. Let's finish this up and we'll go see how Orana is feeling. I'll beg she'd really like another cup of tea and a visit from her favorite Mabari."

Barking and shaking his stubby tail, it took all her strength to hold onto his collar and reach for the cup, squatting down into the water and scooping cupful after cupful to rinse the soapy suds from the dog's thick coat.

In the end, she was just as wet as the dog, maybe wearing more than a little drool as she used a clean soft towel to dry the hound off. Of course, a clean, sweet smelling Piddles was always an excited Piddles and he bounced around, ready to go inside. It was when she released his collar that the war dog darted towards the door and seeing Fenris, began barking excitedly, causing Hawke to look up from where she was ringing out her wash rag to take back inside to the laundry room.

"Piddles! NO!" she managed to yell just before the big dog jumped up to place a big wet doggie kiss on Fenris' face.

Her breath caught in her throat and her startled eyes met his before she quickly averted her gaze to hide the heartache that would surely be evident. He'd left and now she just tried get by as best as she could, had begun acting as if nothing had happened and they were still just good friends. Schooling her features in an overly bright smile, she gathered the wet towels and wash rag and walked towards him.

"Hi Fenris. How are you today?" she asked as she approached, expression neutral, betraying nothing of the racing heartbeat beneath her breast or the turmoil in heart.

"I…" THINK! Don't start at her breast, which were displayed like two ripe melons wrapped up as a personal present for him. "I… returned the book you loaned me. I thought to borrow another…" He had to force his eyes to look up at her face.

And just like every time they were together since that night, she just looked back at him with that kind of blank expression, her features schooled to reveal nothing. It was just one of the reasons she was a force of nature at Diamond Back and Wicked Grace…

"Did you enjoy the book?" she asked, walked past him into the cool mansion, heading for the laundry area to drop off her load of dirty towels.

"It was more difficult that the last one you loaned me, but I enjoyed the challenge. I especially enjoyed learning about maps and how to read them."

"My father could sit for hours and study maps. I'm glad you liked it," she replied softly, heading for the stairs. "If you'll wait a minute, I'll change and maybe we can have lunch and look for another book. I know I have some more on maps."

He was surprised to learn her father had liked maps. He always expected mages to only study magic, more specifically the dark, arts. "I though your father was a mage," he began but was interrupted as Bodhan stuck his head around the corner.

"Mistress Hawke, lunch is on the counter as you asked. Shall I see to our Orana before I head off to the market?"

"Thank you Bodhan, and I'll see to Orana. I want to check her fever and perhaps get her to drink another cup of the healing tea Anders left this morning. You and Sandal have fun at the market and say hello to Ludmilla for me," she replied, laughing at the sheepish expression on the dwarf's face.

'Who's Ludmilla?" Fenris asked after the dwarf left.

"Bodhan has a lady friend he met at the market. I've never met a man so anxious to grocery shop before…" she said, continuing up the stairs, a happy Piddles waiting for her at the top. When Fenris followed her, she made sure to keep her thoughts strictly on a "friend" basis. Before going to her room, she detoured to check on Orana.

When she poked her head in the room, Orana was sitting in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, feet tucked up under her as she sleepily moved knitting needles back and forth.

"Orana, I'm going to bring you a bowl of soup and then I want you to sip another cup of the healing tea Anders left this morning," she said, laying the back of her hand on the elf's forehead. Piddles wriggled around the chair until the elf put her knitting down and rubbed his ears. Audibly sighing, the giant dog laid his head in her lap.

"But you should not be waiting on me, Master…I mean Mistress. I can help with the daily chores," she protested, weakly attempting to get up.

"Orana," she said in that soothing tone Fenris had heard her use when speaking to children, pushing the other woman back into the chair. "I would feel just awful if something happened to you and it my fault for not taking better care of you. You don't want me to feel bad, do you?"

"Oh no Mistress! I promise I'll be good and stay in my room today. I promise."

"You can get up and go downstairs or where ever you want. I just don't want you doing anything. Besides, after a nice cup of soup and a cup of tea, you'll probably drift off to sleep. And I know Piddles would just love a nice nap, too." The dog had a habit of napping in the kitchen where Orana was working when he wasn't following Hawke around. She suspected it had something to do with the tidbits and treats the young elf tempted her hound with.

Afterwards, she fluffed the blanket around her slim shoulders and proceeded to stoke the fire in the already warm room.

Fenris had waited, leaning against the door frame, taking in everything about the room and Hawke. He didn't know what he had expected of a servant's quarters, but the bright cheery room wasn't it. Pale yellows and bright blues, sturdy furniture upholstered in good fabrics, a warm rug on the floor… and windows letting the in early afternoon sun.

Hawke, taking care of her servant as if Orana was the Mistress of the house and she, Hawke, the servant? It just boggled the mind. All he'd ever known about mages was colored by slavery, violence… and pain. They were not to be trusted. They could harness the powers of the elements, lay waste to cities, walk between dreams and waking… They could consort with demons and invite them inside themselves…

And yet Hawke was nothing like the magisters of Tevinter. He watched her smooth a lock of hair back behind Orana's ear, a smile she usually reserved for the children that often followed her when the strolled in the marketplace playing on her full lips before telling Piddles to stay, that she would return in a few minutes.

No Hawke was… she was… he searched for some way to describe his feelings. She'd been there for him after Hadriana, had let him rant and rave about mages and what a blight they were on everything they touched. Every barb he'd hurled had met its mark, the light dimming in her eyes with every word he'd cut her with. In the end he'd simply walked away only to show up at her home a few nights later, and well… He had gone to apologize. She hadn't deserved his wrath. If anything, Hawke was the only person who had ever treated him with any dignity, the only one who had tried to be his friend, the only one who had shown any care…

"Fenris, would you like to visit with Orana while I heat up her soup and tea?" Hawke broke into his thoughts as she finished tucking the blanket under the elf's slender feet.

"Oh no Mistress. I would not want to bother Master Fenris," Orana protested.

"It is no bother Orana. I'm sure Fenris would enjoy visiting with you. Isn't that right, Fenris?" The last was said with a pointed look that clearly indicated she expected him to take a few minutes to visit with the elf.

"It is no bother Orana. I was wondering how you like working for Hawke? It would seem you have settled into your position," he said, walking in to stand beside one of the room's two windows.

"Mistress Hawke is so kind," she began her reply as Hawke left the room. "Papa would have loved to serve her. She would have appreciated his cooking, much more than - "

"Your room is quite nice," he interrupted before she could say "that bitches name".

"Mistress Hawke has been so good to me. She asked about my favorite colors and when I couldn't decide she took me to the market and helped me choose things. I still can't believe I have a home like this. Papa and I used to share a small corner of the cellar… I miss Papa…" she said wistfully.

"Hawke is a generous person," he agreed, glancing around the room, seeing little touches that made the servant's quarters homey. A comb and brush with a matching mirror, the soft overstuffed chair Orana was currently reclining in by the fireplace, warm blankets, clean bed sheets, a real bed…

"Here you go Orana. A cup of Bodhan's famous chicken noodle soup, a few crackers, and a cup of healing tea," Hawke exclaimed, sweeping into the room, now wearing her usual house robes. Sitting the tray down on a footstool, she helped the elf sit up, and stepping over the large furry rug named Piddles that was currently occupying most of the floor space in front of Orana's chair, she placed the tray on the elf's lap.

"I'll be back in a little while Orana. Fenris wants to borrow another book so we'll be in the library if you need anything."

"Thank you Mistress. You are too kind to me," she replied before digging into her soup, a happy smile on her face.

Fenris followed Hawke from the room, down to the library.

"Why do you to it Hawke?" he finally asked, not looking at her, but staring at a bookcase full of books.

"Do what Fenris," she asked, sounding tired, moving to stand beside him. "Act human? Show compassion to those weaker than me?" she held up her hand when he tried to respond. "I know that to you I'll never be anything other than a mage, just one step away from being a demon. I had hoped you would come to see past that…" she finally turned to look at him with sad eyes before walking over to her desk to pick up a book.

"All I know of mages I learned at the hands of magisters who considered their slaves as little more than soulless possessions, to be bought, sold, harshly disciplined, or… experimented on," he finished, frowning down at the markings that would forever scar his body and soul.

"That's a lie, Fenris, and you know it," she said, again in that tired voice that meant she was tired of the same old argument they always seemed to have. "You have seen good mages. My sister was a good woman, a good mage. My father was an honorable man, a good mage. I had hoped that my actions spoke well of me. There are evil people in the world, doing unimaginable things that devastate people's lives with no aid from demons at all. And yet you don't hate them, just mages… me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control his rising temper before responding. "I do not hate you Hawke. You have shown me more kindness than anyone I can remember," he said, moving to where she stood beside her writing desk.

"Well, I guess that and a moment of weakness will get me a quick roll between the sheets." It was out of her mouth before she could even stop it. She hadn't meant to go there, hadn't meant to push him, but dammit, she was so tired of trying to pretend it hadn't happened, that it didn't matter.

"A moment of weakness, Hawke?" he almost shouted, rounding on her to stand almost nose to nose. "I let my guard down around you, a mage, and you see nothing but weakness. I was - "

"As always it has to be about you," she shouted back, temper rising as her heart beat faster, fragmenting into a thousand little pieces again. "I was the weak one, Fenris. Me. Just for once I wanted you to see me as something more, to see that…" She stopped. No, she would not go there, not for all the treasures in Thedas. Struggling to regain a hold on her emotions, she stepped back and picked up a book from the desk.

"Silly of me, I know. I'm a mage and that's all you'll ever see," she said, trusting the book she had been holding into his hands. "Just bring it back when you're through. I think you can see yourself out."

The book landed back on the desk with a resounding thud and suddenly a very angry elf was backing her up against said desk.

"No Hawke. You're the one that brought it up and I will not let you retreat behind that wall of indifference you've hidden behind. That night meant everything to me, but you want to pretend it never happened, act like it didn't matter. Are you so ashamed that you slept with me, an ex-slave, an elf?"

"No, you're the one that's ashamed, Fenris. Ashamed that you slept with a mage! You preach to anyone that will listen about the evils of mages, and then you sleep with one," she fired back, eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears.

"Damn you Hawke!" he growled, tattoos beginning to glow as he leaned closer, causing her to bend backward over the desk, hands scrambling for purchase to keep her from falling. "Why did you sleep with me?" he demanded, hands on either side of her hips as he leaned over her.

"Because I loved you, you stupid man," she choked out on a ragged sob. "I love - "

His lips crashed into hers as he pulled her into his arms. He tasted the salt of her tears, felt her sobs, heard the beating of her heart… felt her arms go around his neck and cling to him. His own heart raced, tattoos flaring as emotions too big to control coursed through his soul.

She loved him, and he… what did he know of love? He knew he cared for her, deeply and with everything that was in him. She was as necessary to him as his next breath. But was it love? Everything they'd been through together flashed through his mind.

Before her his life had been empty, without meaning. Just getting by one day at a time. And then she crashed into his life and never had he felt so alive! It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

And then he'd slept with her. She'd welcomed him into her home, into her bed, into her body. And for a brief moment, he'd though he'd found paradise. But then the memories had assailed him, and they had both frightened and emotionally drained him. The intensity had been too much, and he'd thought to protect himself by staying away from Hawke.

But that had become another hell of his own making. He couldn't stay away, and for her to act like it meant nothing… In protecting himself, he'd hurt her, and she'd hidden behind a wall of indifference… He could see that now. He could also see that he was hopelessly, madly in love with her.

Picking her up, he carried her to the couch. She whimpered as he laid her down, covering her body with his own. Cradling her head, hands full of her glorious blonde curls, he kissed away her tears, trying to show her everything that was in his heart. Slowly he worked the clasps of her robe, his lips never leaving hers.

Hawke moaned. She couldn't help it. This… this was what she'd dreamed of for so many months now. She couldn't get enough of him. To have him in her arms again was more than she could have ever hoped for.

But what if the memories that had driven him away came back? She began to still beneath him. It would break her if he left again. She still remembered the despair that had seemed to crush the life out of her when he walked away that night.

"Fenris," she managed to whisper in between kisses. "Fenris, please." She managed to get her hands on his cheeks and get him to look her in the eyes. If they went any further, she'd be lost.

"If it happens again, you'll stay, right? We'll work through it together?" She brushed a lock of white hair behind one pointed ear and continued, "Because I don't think I'll survive if you leave again."

He stilled the hand resting on her breast and looked down into her troubled eyes, surprised at the fear he saw there.

"I've never had anyone be there for me. Until you. I've survived for so long by myself. It was easier than trusting. I've had no reason to trust anyone in so long… Until you." He paused and brushed away a tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye. He had hurt her so badly, and yet she still loved him. Humbled, more scared that he'd ever been in his life, he looked down at the woman that was his future… if he was brave enough to leap.

He watched as joy replaced the sadness he'd seen in her eyes, as happiness replaced the fear.

"Make love to me," she breathed against his lips, her own nibbling a path from his mouth to his ears, sucking on the tender lobe and worrying it with her teeth.

"Please," she'd said. As if he could resist her, as if he had any will of his own. He gave himself over to the inevitable, free falling into the unknown.

And then his arms were wrapped around her, pressing her tight against his body. One hand cupped her head and held her as his lips plundered hers, his tongue slipping between her lips to thrust greedily into her mouth, his breath becoming hers, hers becoming his.

Her hands moved of their own accord, shoving and pushing the clothes from his body. She wanted skin on skin, nothing in the way of her need to have all of him. Never relinquishing her lips, Fenris helped and they were quickly naked, his arms like steel bands as they encircled her, almost crushing her to him. Between their bodies she felt the rock solid length of him pressing against the softness of her. Reaching down between them she ran her hand up and down the velvet length, and what an impressive length it was, rewarded with an almost pained groan escaping his lips against hers. Once again she wound her arms around his neck and gave herself over to the pleasures of his mouth against hers, the feel of his strong arms and hands as they caressed her heated skin, the hunger that raged in her blood…

Reluctantly she slowed her kisses, gently pushing on his chest until he looked down into her eyes. Smiling, she motioned for him to get up, and taking his hand she led him to the soft fur rug on the floor in front of the fireplace and pulled him down beside her. She couldn't help the devilish grin that spread across her lips as she playfully pushed at his shoulders, pushing him down on his back on the soft fur.

The hunger he saw on her face almost matched his own and he half joked, "I feel like a tasty morsel set before a starving maiden."

"I was just thinking how delicious you look, and how much I want a taste, a little nibble here, a small bite there, a lick up and down..."

"If you're trying to kill me, you're doing a good job, woman," he growled. He hadn't thought he could get any harder, but those words, spoken low and soft and full of promise, caused him to grow harder, painfully harder. He wanted nothing more than to flip her over and bury himself to the hilt in her warmth. But he let her control how fast, or slow, they went. For now.

"Will this kill you?" she asked as she moved to straddle his knees, bending forward to caress his manhood with her plush breasts. She leaned forward and swirled her tongue around one pebbled nipple, gently nibbling and sucking on the little nub. He gasped out loud and brought his hands up to rub them up and down her back, caressing her hot skin, wondering what he'd ever done in his life to deserve this.

"Or maybe this will be your undoing," she murmured as she slowly slid down his body, licking, nipping, sucking her way down across that golden skin of flat abs, lean hips, tight thighs.

Fenris looked down at the dream worshiping his body. A blanket of pale gold hair cascaded over his legs and sweet Maker, Hawke's tongue and mouth were quickly driving him over the edge. And then she stopped and looked up at him. Her eyes gleamed with an almost feral light. Never taking her eyes from his, she fisted him and slowly, oh so slowly, lowered those exquisite lips and that warm mouth onto his throbbing erection.

He couldn't help himself. Grasping her head he forced her to take more of himself into her mouth. Hot sucking mouth, soft hands caressing his most private parts, a skilled tongue licking, flicking, stroking… just a few more strokes and he would explode…. Suddenly he reached down and dragged her up onto his chest. He didn't want this to end so soon…yes, there would be more times…there would be many more times. He was not going anywhere, that he vowed. Fitting her lips against his he feasted on her mouth as he rolled them over, his hips settling between her thighs, his manhood poised at the entrance to her hot core.

Hawke was about to go up in flames. Dear Maker, the feel of him sliding between her lips, the taste of his desire, the smell of aroused flesh…and now he was between her legs and she just had to move a little to have what she most wanted. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, to open herself up for him, but he resisted, instead leaving her lips to suckle at her breasts. Lightening raced from her nipple to her womb, immediate orgasm causing her to cry out, to clutch at his broad muscled shoulders to keep her world from spinning out of control.

Fenris reached between their straining bodies and caressed her silken folds. His fingers danced over the sensitive heated flesh, dipping inside again and again, finding and stroking that one spot guaranteed to drive his woman wild. His woman… He took her screams into his own mouth and then gathered her close as he slowly inched himself inside her. Sweet Andraste, he didn't know if he would survive… just like before she was hot, and so tight, so exquisitely tight. Push in a little, withdraw. Push in a little more, withdraw. He wanted to prolong the exquisite torture. He wanted it to last forever.

Hawke wrapped her legs around his waist and almost passed out as another orgasm exploded behind her eyes. Over and over, he surged into her body, sometimes slow, sometimes slamming into her with such force she wondered if it was possible to die from cumming too much. She'd long ago lost the ability to think beyond the present, of anything but Fenris, of anything but this one moment in time. All that mattered was this man, this instant, this union of their bodies….and maybe their souls…

He couldn't hold back any longer. Faster and harder he pounded into her hot flesh. Every squeeze of her muscles sent him closer and closer to the edge. When he knew she was near the edge again, he reached between them and caressed her. As one they tumbled over the edge and he couldn't help roaring her name as he spilled his seed inside her.

In the aftermath, the sweat cooling on their bodies, he gathered her close, reaching up to grab a throw from the chair nearest them to cover them. And as before, the memories returned, fleeting glimpses of who he'd been, the life he'd lived before.

Hawke's hand held on to his, not letting go, grounding him in the present. And when the memories retreated again, back beyond the wall he'd build so long ago, she was still there. He couldn't go back into the past, it had been burned away the day he received his markings. Beside him lay his future, the woman he would gladly walk into the fires of hell for.

"I love you," she breathed against his neck, and that was all he needed to know to take that first step. He was no longer afraid… to leap