A/N:

This tale of Fenris and Hawke was written as an a/b/o primer for a dear friend who had never heard of a/b/o. That is, it is a bit over-explained so that, anyone who doesn't know the omegaverse will have a better understanding of it when they get to the end.

Bellanaris

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Hawke and Fenris were yards ahead of Varric and Sebastian on the beach. They'd been hunting slavers all day in the sun, and everyone was near ready to head for town. Somewhere up ahead the smoke of a fire could be seen and the group had decided to investigate as their one last adventure for the day.

"Fenris..." Hawke said, and the elf turned around. "What is it, Hawke?" The mage walked up behind him, circling his arms around his waist, and leaned against his neck.

"Hawke this really isn't the place for that, is it? What are you -" the elf cut himself off with sudden realization. "Alright, enough. I have three more days."

Hawke inhaled, breathing in the sweat and smell of him, then again, mouth slightly open. Before he even defined the scent, his alpha body responded, blood pressure rising, an erection beginning to press against his laces.

"You're in heat, Fenris. We have to get you out of here."

"Hawke, I am not. I'm sweating in the sun. I have three more days."

"Da'mi, I can smell you, and any minute Sebastian will, too. Worse, if we don't get you out of here, the slavers will. Come on, Fen, let me take care of you, " he purred into his mate's ear. "We need to get you home."

Fenris thought Hawke was mad. His heat wasn't for three more days. It was only the sun, and the sweat, not the crippling hormones and impending loss of control.

Then Hawke leaned into his neck again, scenting him, and when his arms tightened around the omega's waist , the renewed touch sent sparks of arousal racing across the elf's skin. Now, the sun was getting to him, and Maker, he needed water.

He shivered, unconsciously pushing his body back against the alpha, and he knew. "Hawke... we don't have time to get back home. Every alpha in Kirkwall will be on me if we go through the city. Take me into the woods if you must... just... Hawke, do something... " The elf had turned around and was clinging to Hawke's chest, partly panicked, partly feeling the undeniable flood of hormones wash over him, the kicking on of the furnace that would compel him to mate. And Hawke, his alpha, could smell every second of it.

Fenris was losing it. The imperative to mate taking over. He wanted Hawke, needed him, and would end up in the sand, curled up in a ball of pain if he didn't have him. "Hawke, please... " he moaned into the caster's chest. For Hawke the nightmare was just as bad. His lovely omega was clawing at him, begging him to fill him and end the painful need. Stranded here out in the open on the sandy beach there was nothing he could do to comfort him. Nothing he was willing to do, anyway. Then the sweet and perfect scent of the elf engulfed him, racing through his blood and brain, tugging at his alpha instinct to mount and breed with the heating omega, and do it now.

"Shh, Fen. It's alright. I'll take care of you," he whispered, brushing the elf's hair from his face, calming his mate and reminding himself that the omega's care was all that mattered.

Varric and Sebastian were only a few yards away when they saw the trembling elf and stopped. Varric was a beta, and this kind of thing had little effect on him. He could smell the heat, but it did nothing to arouse him. Sebastian, on the other hand, was an alpha, and the omega's heat scent was impossible to ignore. The priest felt his body react to the elf and he fell to his knees, beginning the Chant of Light. Alphas were not permitted in the Chantry for the very reason that it was nearly impossible to remain chaste. Sebastian, however, had been the exception to the rules his whole life, and although tested more than once by a breeding omega, his prayer had always saved him.

"Hawke, can I do anything?" from Varric. The dwarf was no fool. Fenris would soon lose any regard for safety, or humility, and that wasn't something he wanted to see - for either of them. And then there was that part where alpha Hawke was likely to take the head off of anybody who got close to his mate. Varric kept his distance.

"I have to get him out of here fast, Varric. Suggestions?"

"Maker, Hawke. We're miles from everywhere. Let me think," he shouted back, then disappeared up the hillside toward town.

Omegas come into heat usually on a schedule they can predict, usually once every three months or so. The hard part lasts about three days, or less depending on the virility of their mate, whether or not they are bonded, and whether or not they'd been knotted in recent memory. Fenris and Hawke were bonded, so the elf's heat was usually brief, but that didn't help now. In the next twenty minutes or so, he would be completely consumed by it.

Hawke looked down at him again, unconsciously inhaling his scent, and saw that the elf's skin was coloring pink, and the sweat of his brow was getting worse. He ran his finger gently over the scar of their bonding bite, whispering comfort and concern. It had been a year since Hawke had marked him, and in spite of the growing turmoil in Kirkwall, the best year of his life. It was nearly white now, though obviously visible to other alphas who dared get close enough to look. They could all smell an omega in heat, but the scent of one with a mate was different, a warning. This didn't stop their primal urge to mount and take him, but it did let them know it wouldn't be easy. Against the Champion of Kirkwall, it would be suicide.

As for knotting, alphas don't get more virile than Hawke, and he and Fenris had shared that passion and intimacy only the night before. That would make the cycle shorter, not put it off longer. They were running out of time.

Hawke scanned the horizon for Varric, but saw nothing. Fenris would be incoherent by the time they got to the manor. He would be moaning, clawing at his clothes, begging Hawke, or any other alpha who came by, to relieve him of his need. The awful truth was that, loving his omega as he did, Hawke would be challenged to deny him. It wasn't just the agony he'd have to watch the elf endure, it was his own primal alpha urge to protect him, to calm him, to take care of him... and to fuck him until they couldn't anymore.

The scent was moving fast through the mage's brain. He was aroused and his mate was already in his arms. It was hard to resist. Taking a deep breath, he pushed back against his own instincts again, and lifted the elf, still moaning and clinging, his mouth licking and biting at Hawke's neck, and carried him down to the water, and into the sea.

The cold immediately gave Fenris relief. He opened his eyes, and the grabbing and pleading finally stopped. "Hawke, please get me home. I don't want this to happen out here. I know it's hard for you, but please, get me home first."

That was all it took to push back the chaos in Hawke's body and brain. It was as difficult for a bonded alpha to hurt or deny their omega, as it was for an omega to displease their bonded alpha. They were one, the perfect pair, always in perfect balance, always what each other needed.

Hawke kissed the his mate's forehead, ignoring his own unrelenting desire, "I promise, Fen. I'll get you home."

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A few minutes later, Varric returned with a horse, and with Sebastian's prayers and avoidance, Hawke rode it, holding Fenris against his chest, through the streets of Kirkwall and back to privacy and safety of the manor.

The elf's heat was full on by the time they got there and his scent was sending Hawke over the edge. Whispering words of love and tenderness, he carried Fenris to their room and gently laid his tortured lover on the bed. Now, the elf was a frantic mess of hormones and animal desire. He pulled and ripped at his clothes, moaning and writhing, arching his hips at nothing, pleading for Hawke, needing his mate to take him, to fill him, to breed him.

And it was getting harder for his mate to resist.

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