A/N: A one-shot quickie, inspired by "Reflection Muse" on BSN and their brave "coming out of the closet", as it were, about their love for Fenris, in the Anders fan thread.
Dragon Age2 and all characters belong to Bioware. Love them, hate them, but its just a fact.
The sand burned the bottoms of his bare feet, but was no more uncomfortable then the cold stone of Kirkwall. If anything, the texture was a pleasant change of pace, even if the circumstances hardly were. A gust of air that smelt of sea water and wet dog assaulted his nose, and he tiled his head slightly to knowledge his walking company.
Bebouse, Hawke's ridiculously named dog, trotted near-silently up next to him, matching his long strides with ease. He'd always liked the dog, especially since the dog had never warmed to that blighted abomination. He remembered that Hawke had once commented on the fact that he had been a cat person. Fenris was not particularly fond of animals in general, but the Mabari had grown on him over the years.
He stretched a hand down to give Bebouse a scratch between the ears, "At least you and I can agree on things." Bebouse whine in agreement, then with a wag of his stubby tail, he was off and running towards the bodies stretched out in the sunlight. Fenris smirked, and continued his way down the beach in similar direction.
He let his mind wander a bit as he walked, his eyes ever scanning the surrounding area for the impending attackers that could very well be hiding in the shadows and in treetops. He still couldn't believe it had gone quite that way. He had been sure that the sodding abomination would go out in a blaze of glory, possibly taking a hand full of Templars with him.
Not that he particularly liked Templars. No. While they were necessary, that didn't mean he approved of their actions. Not anymore. Not when he had so very much to lose to them. It was one of the few truths to a life lived when one loved a mage. Especially a mage like Angel Hawke.
If he were honest with himself, and he usually was to a fault, there probably could be no life to be lead, with her or anyone else. There were two sets of armies hunting them now. There would have only been one, but she had refused to execute that fucking abomination. That meant that his one time friend, Sebastian, was now gunning for them with his reclaimed army from Starkhaven. Not to mention that the Chantry's Seekers were leaving no stone unturned for them.
It didn't matter, because she had shown him that there were some things worth fighting for. While he didn't believe in her particular cause, he did believe in her. So, he would fight for her. He'd fight until he died, and then, Maker willing, he'd get up and keep right on fighting. He'd never leave her alone again.
"Will you stop being so stoic and watchful for just two moments, Fenris. You are seriously killing my mood. And, you're standing in my sun." Isabela's teasing voice floated up to his ears, and he chuckled.
He'd managed to cross the beach, and was now standing over two of the most beautiful women in all of Thedas. Well, one who thought herself to be the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas, and the one who he believed to be just that.
Isabela had disposed of the corset that usually donned her middle, lounging bare-chested in the sunlight, with one mocha arm draped across her face. Had he been a weaker man, it would be all he noticed. He was not, because the woman he loved was laying beside the pirate queen. And she was about as equally clothed.
"Mm." she squeaked, stretching her arms over her head, every bit of supple tanned flesh exposed to the sun. It was her attempt to be rid of what was left of what she'd lovingly called her, "Kirkwallers tan", which was to say, no tan at all.
"Keep that up and you'll be as brown as 'Bela is here, Hawke." he mused, settling down in the sand next to her. He pulled his feet beneath him, making it easy for him to spring up and kill someone, should the need arise.
"That's the plan." She chuckled, rolling over on to her back. Her dark hair was loose from its tie for a change, and he reached out to run his fingers through it. He'd always loved her hair, and it was really starting to get long now.
"So, ladies, are we to stay here on this little island forever, then?"
"You are such a spoilsport, d'ja know that?"
"Hush 'Bela, he's got a point. We can't really stay here forever, even if I want to... and maker I do. Forget the whole world burning down around us. Forget that Anders blew up a sodding chantry. Forget it all." Her voice was heavy with emotion, and even as she was turned to face Isabela, propped up on one elbow, he could see it written all over her face.
He'd known for some time now that she blamed herself for what had happened. She had supported that maker forsaken abomination for 7 and a half years. Practically egged him on. Ran a stop on the Mage underground out of her wine cellar, even. For him. Because she wanted for other people what she'd been so gifted. Freedom to be a person and experience life.
"Well I will be happy to oblige. Anything you want, Hawke. But only if I get to go to a port once and a while. It's hardly fair that you get to touch Fenris all day and night and I get nothing. Not even an offer to share." Isabela pouted, an obvious attempt to lighten Hawke's mood.
"Uhnu, I haven't had him nearly long enough to myself yet." She teased right back. He chuckled, one eye ever on the shadows. His other eye, though, was busy tracing the curve of her hip. "I spent 5 years trying to get him to admit that he was worthy of me, and then because of me he had to give up everything."
He frowned, "Angel..."
"No, Fenris. It was my fault. I knew what he was, and trusted him as a friend."
"Sweet thing, you had no idea he was going to do, well, that."
"No, but I should have. Everyone else did, including you Fen. Especially you. I just.." She sighed, rolling back onto her back and exposing delicious amounts of womanly flesh to the sky. He ran a gaulteted hand down the length of her stomach. He traced the scar left from her battle with the Arishok.
"Hawke," He rumbled, peering down at her, "To be fair I warned you about every mage."
"Yes, including you if I recall right. It did get quite tedious after a bit listening to you and Anders bickering at each other all the time. I'm just glad I stayed out of it.. Oh wait!" Isabela chuckled lightly. She sat up and grabbed for the bottle of rum that was half buried beneath the sand.
"See? I should have listened. No, I couldn't do that, could I? I had to believe there was good to be done. It.. I just thought, and he was just so obsessed with me and.. " It seemed as if she just couldn't get the whole thought to coalesce from mind to tongue.
They'd had this conversation before. Angel had loved and respected Anders. He reminded her a great deal of her father, Malcolm. The cause was a good one, and the man was a good man. Even with all his warnings and mistrust, even Fenris could admit such. At least, he could now. So many years ago all he could have seen was an abomination void-bent on stealing away the one thing in his life that had any real meaning.
He took the time to remove his gauntlet this time, listening to the girls chatter back and forth while not really hearing what they were discussing. Isabela had changed the subject, lest it ruin the mood before their departure. He caught a snippet about dresses and a comment from Angel about how glad she was that they'd been able to rescue her supply of gold coins before they'd run off.
He let her voice roll through him, and he ran his now-bare hand down her stomach once again. The scar was old now, silvered and ragged. One of the few blemishes on otherwise perfect flesh. It had been the one wound that that ridiculous monster hadn't been able to fully remove. Alive but scarred, Anders had said, it was better then unblemished but dead. He had carefully nit-together vital organs, blood vessels, muscle, tissue, and her spine. He had done his best to save what he could.
She'd lost one kidney, a quarter of her liver, a human organ called an appendix, and her ability to bare children. In exchange, she'd been alive. It had been all he cared about. It still was. Aveline had once told him that Angel hadn't taken the loss of her womb well. She had wept for days, mumbling about little elf blooded human children.
Children were the last thing he'd ever want, though if he was going to have them, he'd have no other woman then Angel Hawke. If she could not bare them, then he simply would not have them. He let his bare fingers trace the curve of her bare breasts, and heard the dark-haired woman beneath his touch purr.
"Isabela, go away." he murmured, looking down at the face of the woman he loved. She was looking up at him now, and he could see her thoughts, shining clearly through those golden eyes.
Isabela sputtered mid-sentence, a pout on her features. "What?"
"Mmh, go get the ship ready to leave 'Bela. I think Fenris and I need to.. prepare." Angel spoke, her voice thick with desire.
"Hmph! Fine. But next time you're letting me join in. You owe me, Angel Hawke. Don't you forget it!" Isabela chirped cheerfully, hoisting herself off the sand.