Mr. Mage Underground
Hawke is pining over Anders, and every time she tries to get some alone time with him it seems like he always has something to do. One-shot with Desperate!LadyHawke. Set during the events of Dragon Age 2.
Written for a prompt at BSN in the the DA2 Anders Prompt Group. The prompt was misguided.
Just looking at him was torture. His blond hair matted to his forehead with sweat, his hands lit up with an entrancing blue glow tending to the poor and the desperate. Watching his hands glide over another's skin laced with magic, in that hypnotic dance, she couldn't help think about what they would feel like on her skin. Maker, why did she do this to herself? Seeing him like this was enough to color her cheeks red and make the room seem like it was on fire.
Coming down to Darktown had now become part of her daily routine, a guilty pleasure. Just sitting down there, watching him selflessly heal the masses and whisper words of hope to the hopeless she had fallen in love with him. She had learned so much about him just by studying his body language, following his movements.
He knew that she liked him, but he had no idea of the scope of her obsession. She was sure if he had known the extent of how she pined after him he would be more than a little disturbed, so she tried to stay out of sight while she ogled him in the shadows. If he ever found out that she came down and sat in filth every day just to watch him she would probably die of embarrassment. Sometimes she would come out of the shadows and talk to him, tease him, even though admittedly he did most of the teasing.
He barely knew anything about her. Hawke was a stammering mess whenever she talked to him, unless she was in battle or drunk. Drink gave her the confidence and the swagger to attempt to be charming, but it also tended to make her a little too forward in her intentions than proper for a lady. Usually she just flirted a little too much, but once she had shown up at Anders' clinic in nothing more than her small clothes, and had only found out that she had done it when Isabella and Varric laughed her out of the Hanged Man the next night. Thank the Maker Anders never brought it up.
At the moment, she was very drunk. Much to drunk to be in Darktown alone, and much to drunk to have the common sense not to do it anyways. Now that all of his patients had left Hawke took it as her cue to attempt a conversation with him. Maybe he wouldn't be busy with that damned mage underground that seemed to take up all of his time tonight.
"Hello, handsome." Hawke tried her best to annunciate and mask her drunken slur.
"Oh I didn't see you there, Hawke. You look..."
"Beautiful, ravishing, irresistible..." Anders let out a chuckle and Hawke blushed.
"I was going to say very drunk." Anders clearly could not fooled by her attempts at trying to feign soberity. He knew she could would never have the guts to call him handsome without at least three drinks in her, and it was clear that she had way more than that.
"Is it that obvious? Isabella was paying, so how could I refuse a free drink?"
"There is this fabulous word, no. It works rather well in those situations." Anders threw out a smirk that practically left her in a puddle.
"Well I am here now, so I think things turned out rather well." Taking a step towards him, he answered in kind and took a step back.
"I suppose you are. Is this just a social call or do you need something in particular?" He did his best to look busy, trying to avoid her lusty gaze, she would have none of it and closed in even further on him.
"Other than you? No." That had put a blush on his cheeks.
A chuckle escaped his lips, "Unfortunately the clinic is all out of what you need tonight. Check back tomorrow."
"Are you sure there isn't any in backroom?" Light was spilling from the crack in his door, and she could see his bedroll on the floor. She longed to curl up next to him on it and for him to hold her on the dirty Darktown ground.
"No, I'm afraid we are all out."
"You are no fun." Mustering her most convincing pout she let out a heavy sigh.
"Having to diagnose and treat a dozen or so STDs a night tends to suck the fun out of man."
"Being cooped up in here all the time can't be good for you. You need to get some fresh air. Do you want to go for a walk at the docks? There is a full moon, and the reflection on the water is magnificent." She held her breath and said a silent prayer in her head to the Maker that he would finally give in to her pleas.
"Not tonight, Hawke. One, you are way too drunk to do anything, let alone walk around the Docks at night. Two, I have business with the Mage Underground and I have to go. Now." Anders grabbed a few vials, stashed them in his pouch and sprinted for the exit.
"Well in that case, I'll just go with you." She tripped over her own feet as she began to march to the door to follow him. Anders caught her right before her face met the ground, and quickly propped her back up on her feet. His touch was enough to make her fall over again.
"Hawke, I can't have you stumbling drunk trying to smuggle mages." He gave her a sad smile while she blushed at his touch.
"You never let me help with the underground. Even when I'm not drunk." Hawke whined.
"Well, it's very...dangerous. I don't want to involve you in something that could endanger you."
"That's very sweet of you, Anders. I just wish that it didn't steal all of your time. Between the clinic and the underground you have no time for yourself."
"Oh I make time for myself, don't worry your pretty little head about that." A smirk graced his face that seemed to hide something that he wasn't telling her. She hardly noticed it though. Her head was still spinning from the fact that he called her pretty, and the excessive amount of drink in her didn't help much either.
"Then why do you never have time for me when I ask you to do something? You are always busy with the underground or your damned manifesto. But now that you've confessed that you actually do have time, schedule a walk at the Docks with me then. No excuses. Goodnight, Anders."
She turned and walked away, purposefully swaying her hips in attempt to brand the sight of her into his mind. She thought about following him, but decided against it. He was right, she was much to drunk for galavanting around and playing vigilante. She had been much to drunk to even come down her and talk to him, and the excessive amount of embarrassing remarks that had spilled out of her mouth during their conversation was proof of that. She was going to regret coming here in the morning.
The sound of his mansion door cracking open and quiet footsteps padding up the stairs woke him from a dead sleep. Leaping from under his sheets and grasping his sword he looked out the window. It was pitch black outside. It must have been after midnight at least. He ran to his door and slammed it open.
A sigh escaped his lips as another's met his. He dropped his sword and pinned his intruder to the wall, pressing his hips flush against his invader's. Their lips crashed against each other for what seemed like eternity and a second at the same time.
"You are late." Fenris growled against his lover's skin. His breath heavy with want.
"Well, I had a little bit of an obstacle in my way. A very drunk obstacle." Anders leaned his head back against the wall, catching his breath.
"Hawke. What did you tell her?" Fenris still was not letting Anders escape his arms.
"The Mage Underground again." Anders sighed.
"What if she finds out that you haven't been going to where you say?"
"Please Fenris, she'll never question me. She is much to infatuated with me, it is sad really. Unrequited love hurts, I feel bad for the woman, I really do. But if she ever does figure it out, well then I guess I'll just have to tell her the truth."
"Mage, if you ever tell anyone, especially Hawke..." Fenris hissed, baring his teeth, the show of aggression sparking a heat in the mage's groin.
"Calm down. Of course I wouldn't tell her. The last thing I want to do is break her poor little heart. I would just have to sleep with her to shut her up." That smirk would be the death of Fenris.
"You wouldn't." Their bodies were now completely flush against each other, Fenris' lithe form pressing Anders into the wall. The pressure of him threatening Anders' ability to breath.
"Obviously. You need to stop taking things so literally." Anders managed to gasp out.
"Don't let her misguided affections get to your head." A gauntleted hand stroked though Anders' blonde mane undoing the tie that held it captive and letting it fall against his stubbled cheeks. Thank the Maker the mage kept his hair up in public or he would have a hard time hiding his desire.
"I won't. Not when I have you to remind me how despicable and obnoxious I am on a daily basis." A mixture of pleasure and pain overcame Fenris as Anders sunk his teeth into his shoulder, eliciting a moan from his captor.
"I hate you." Fenris growled and half-moaned before he captured Anders mouth in his own, taking his hands and pining them over his head.
"I know." Anders' whispered into his lover's mouth.
Both men melted into each other, melted into the wall, in a flurry of curses, kisses, and growls. This game they played, bickering and feigning disgust, was the only way they could love each other. Both knew the true feelings behind every scratch and every utterance of animosity. Hate was the only thing that made their love a reality.