I don't own Dragon Age II or it's characters, enjoy!
Pastels and Paper
Amara Hawke loved the rain. She slipped out onto the balcony, tightly grasping the edges of her deep mahogany robe that covered her almost head to toe. She watched a small family of nobles, the mother shrieking about her hair, the father laughing with the kids. The kids could have been no older than six and seven, they jumped in the puddles and ran with their parents into their estate. The clouds banished most of the sun in fluffy yet stormy grayness. The droplets hit the awning just above her stain glass double doors, making a pleasant drumming sound. She gaze out to the haze and glow of the rain as it began to stain the tile of her balcony and the stone of the roads leading to the other estates and shops.
She dropped her robe and let it pool around her ankles as she stepped out into the rain, letting it pour down on her. Her raven curls sprang free when she untied the red ribbon from her hair. The curls cascaded down to her mid waist her amber eyes watching the droplets form on the leaves of her proud oak trees on both side and the climbing lavender vines, accumulating until they were heavy enough to bow and drop the water. She wore a simple cardinal red sleeveless cotton dress that rested mid thighs, it clung to her generous hips and butt then up to her authoritative shoulders. The cool breeze refreshed her mind and caused her nipples to make their presence known through the fabric.
She didn't care if any of the other nobles saw, she just closed her eyes and threw her head back to let the rain nip her face. As she predicted she was being watched. But by no noble. Fenris' room that he claimed for his own happened to be at the same level as hers and was angled so that if he looked out his window he would see her in her bedroom through her balcony. He liked this a lot, he could watch out for her. If she was to need him, he was around and at whim. He saw her and he soaked up the picture of her dancing softly in the rain, twirling in a waltz with an imaginary partner. He smiled, "Hawke, you are the goofiest woman I know." He said to no one. She then contented herself to leaning her hips forward on the railing and placing her pallid fingers on the marble. He dropped his whetstone and placed his blade down and dashed for the dresser that they had cleaned up earlier. He frantically grabbed a thick mound of textured papers and coal in varying widths and lengths. He paid no heed to the drawings that sparwled across the floor as he went to the cushion nook of the window and began to sketch her.
She was there for what seemed like hours and he loved every second. The scratching of the coal against the papers, licking his now black smeared fingers when he needed to shade something. If he made a mistake that he wasn't pleased with the fix, he'd crumple it and throw it into the low humming fire he had going. Only getting up to switch utensils, he grabbed some mica and lead mixture that Hawke had pointed out in a store once, it was wrapped in wood that he could weddle down with a knife when the silvery soft material was worn down. This material he could ease with something that felt strange but the shopkeep called it an 'Easer'.
He could feel the blood rushing to his penis as the rain soaked her, make her big and wild curls tamed, small and clung to her body. Just like that thin dress she wore which was now a second skin. But he would please himself later, he need to capture this beauty. He focused on the picture in his lap, sticking his tongue out absentmindly, he used his thumb and closed one green eye to measure angle before putting that thumb up to the window he had to open a tad in order to see her when the rain drops had morphed her figure too much on the window. He saw Leandra gasp and wave her index finger at her daughter, picking up the robe and throwing it over her daughter and dragging her inside. "Oh, Leandra, you ruined it…" Fenris sighed, looking down at the picture he was almost finished on. Hawke had put her weight on one leg and hip and had both arms up running her hands through her hair, He would have to finish this one by memory.
He stood, getting sore, he stretched and popped his back as his chest swelled in pride over the four sketches he had gotten. Then he observed the ones that had fallen on the ground. Some were of flowers, trees, landscapes he had loved on jobs that he would go back to and sketch. Then there was pictures of the gang at the Hanged Man or in the Chantry that he had drawn by memory. His favorites were the one with Amara in them. He picked up a few of his favorites, Varric and Hawke playing games, Aveline and her when they danced at the Festival of Maiden's Heart all those years ago, Carver laughing while she ruffled her brother's hair in the headlock she had him in, Merrill and Hawke smelling flowers. He picked up the few with Carver and Merrill embraced, Isabella punching Varric in the shoulder, and even one of Anders at the Clinic saving an elf's life.
He picked up the one with Hawke and Aveline and decided it was time to color these in. He nimbly sprung himself back up with the paper held gingerly. He went to the larger bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged through his supplies. He frowned, he had plenty of coal for black but only one white sea shell, some left over ground red power, and nothing more than his grinding tools, cans of holding and a haversack to carry supplies in when he would go on a walk about to gather them. Then it hit him like a viper's strike, he'd convince Hawke to go with him to get these supplies. He'd be able to be alone with her for more inspiration. He reached into his drawer and grabbed small thin nails and a hammer. He nailed a few of his proudest ones up on the wall opposing his bed.
But first, now that the rain had ceased, he took one of his sketches of her in the rain. Blew off any excess remnants and loving like rolled it up and took twine and tied a small bow. He slid out of his mansion and scaled the wall with the drawing tucked safely in his belt. He peered in to see her adorned by her frizzed curls asleep, though he was looking through a green section giving her a green tint. He placed the picture securely in the curled handle, binding it with more twine for added measure. He snuck away into the night, falling back asleep.
Hawke rose to her mubari whimpering and scratching at the door. The sun's rays poured out from the window putting colors onto the rug. She told her drooling pet she was coming, she put her feet into slippers and put the robe from last night over the coral silk night gown she wore. She didn't bother to tie it as she yawned and stretched, opening the door. She braced for the impact but instead the large lovable oaf went to the window leading out to the balcony and whined. She noticed the rolled up paper tied to the handle. She unlocked the window and Argus sniffed the paper before barking happily and wagging his tail.
She released the paper and unrolled it. She gasped, it was one of the most beautiful things she ever saw. Though she frowned slightly and looked down at Argus, "Are my hips really that big?" Argus tipped his head to the side and barked, "I thought so," she sighed and looked over her hips and shrugged. She didn't touch the lines after they had rubbed off on the pads of her fingers. Every detail was like her reflection in the mirror, yet it had the artist's touch to it. She was wearing the thin strapped dress from the night before and it was her with her eyes closed and arms out and palms open. She then spotted a thumb print at the left corner of the page. She placed the picture on her writing desk upon walking back in with Argus.
"It's breathtaking isn't it boy?" She asked her tan mutt who panted with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging so fast she swore it could generate enough friction to burn the estate down. "but who-…?"
There was a knock at the door.
She tied her robe to give some modesty and wandered downstairs with Argus ever faithfully at her swaying hips. Bodahn greeted Fenris would leaned against the door frame until standing straight again when his eyes went to Amara. She admired the way his hair and bronze skin caught the rays of the sun and highlighted his features. He nodded his head to her when she greeted him as well, beckoning him inside. "You're all dressed and ready to go, where are we going?" She asked with a laugh as she pointed at the haversack that seemed to be already holding objects within. "What's that for?"
"I require some help gathering some supplies." Fenris stared as he opened the bag to reveal empty jars and leather sheathed knives. She then noticed how black his hand were, she pointed it out to him in which he only shrugged, "I was moving coals from the fireplace and into the kitchen, it was hard to wash out all the way."
"Well, no worries then, what did you have in mind, after I am dressed of course," she chuckled with him as he placed the flag back down.
"I need to gather some seashells, various berries, petals, oysters, bark and some other things from the grocer, I am giving them to the Herbalist."
She nodded, turning around she looked to Argus and said, "Oh, go get 'im boy!" She bolted up the stairs as she heard barking and then a thud of Fenris being tackled by Argus. He called after Hawke but chuckled and closed his eyes as the mubari nuzzled him and licked his face.
She quickly came back down with her frizzed hair in a ponytail and donned soft leathers. He gestured her onward she grabbed her staff leaning on one of the walls in the foyer and placed it in it's holster behind her back. They went to the Wounded Coast first, somehow managing to stay away from any raiders or thugs. High noon sun beat down on her dark hair as her foot steps became labored in the fine sand. He stopped abruptly and knelt down to open one of the smaller jars. He gathered handfuls of sand until the jar was full. He then began to strip, unfastening the buckles on his breastplate and gauntlets. He took off his tunic and left his leather leggings on.
Hawke bit her lip trying not to stare at his defined muscles and lyrrium tattooed body. He glanced at her with a half smile and then said, "Undress."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Hawke, we are going to retrieve some oysters, do you want to ruin your leathers?"
"Of course not…" she chuckled with shades of red and pink coloring her cheeks and ears. She undressed into her smalls. He tried not to stare by wading through to get to several rocks that held tide pools. They leaned over one of the tide pools, Amara squeaking when the tide came in and splashed cold water on her lumbar and hips. Fenris started gathering the oysters into a larger jar with her. She then picked up the golden Seastar and flipped it over to watch the hundreds of "tiny legs" squirm about. He picked up a smaller, redder and thinner one to observe it as well before they retired them back to their home. Fenris was blinded by water, his eyes burning slightly when the saline water got in.
He got his revenge before she could run away. She screamed and smacked him on his firm bicep. He purposely flexed when she grabbed onto the same arm to steady herself. Her blush reappeared as she felt his muscles tense and release. They wadded through the knee deep water again. Fenris replaced the filled jar with another empty one and offered his marked hand to her. She shyly took it as they watched their footstep imprint before the waves slushing into the grains erased them. He then pointed at the sand dollar and picked it up, he explained the bleached animal was dead. He snapped it in half easily and showed her the "five doves" that were made.
The breeze from the ocean cooled them and dried their wet skin, the smell filling their nostrils and easing any stress as they breathed in deeper. The gush of the waves singing them a sweet song. He found more sand dollars and sun bleached calm shells. They contented themselves to go for a swim. He was inspired once more by his muse. She had thrown her hair in front of her face and bowed herself in and flipped her hair up, mocking the noble women who teased and bunted their hair up like the water had done to hers. They didn't mind the fish brushing against their legs. And Fenris guffawed when his brave and all powerful leader tripped over the sudden dropped of the sand bank. He pulled her back and as she raised her bowed head their lips ghosted over each other's. Gold and Emerald. They leaned forward remembering the night before going into The Deep Roads, when they held each other close and danced the night away.
Hawke pulled away with a sigh as she stated, "We're gonna be losing daylight if we keep dicking around, let's get that other stuff you needed."
They air dried while packing their things back up. They donned their attire and wandered back up the Sundermount. The Dalish had mixed reactions to them, some smiled and waved other sneer at the two and whispered or bluntly told Fenris of their displeasure of witnessing an Elf with a human. But they passed through and got to the clay he was looking for, he handed her a jar as she just glanced up at the face of the clay. Suddenly she was grabbed under the knees, before she could react her world spun and then halted. She was suddenly five feet and seven inches taller. She tried to hide the pools of blood that rushed to her cheeks when she realize Fenris had put her on his shoulders and directed her to take the tool he put in the jar and scrap the clay into it.
He gently put her down once satisfied with the amount and they moved forward to gather blackberries, strawberries, cherries, and blueberries when they retreated back to the foothills of Sundermount and the last thing was to head towards the abandoned Ruins and gather petals. They picked flowers, putting the buds and heads into the remaining jars. Fenris watched her bending over at the waist to pick some daisies and the urge hit him. He grinned like the wolf and charged her, lifting her by the waist and tickled her, she giggled as he twirled her around. She slid back down and wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed with their foreheads pressed on each other's and danced the box step to the music in their heads. Closing their eyes and remembering how they danced by the bonfire, their sweat mixing and the vocals ringing out.
Their lips crashed into each other with fever. He pulled her against him, minding his spiky armor. She gripped fistfuls of his platinum locks, enjoying the way the butterflies fluttered from her stomach into every inch of her. Their tossed their heads side to side, not sure who was deepening the kiss first but what did that matter? His hands moved all over her back and then grabbed her hips. But they stopped when they heard three male voices whistle.
Fenris' eyes narrowed at the grungy men with maces in their clutches. The burnetter leader of the trio spoke, "Pretty girl you got there, but I ain't about to see no Elf be pleasuring a bitch, whaddya say cunt, want to get a real man in ya?" his cronies laughed and Fenris saw red. His marking began to glow blue and in a flash his gauntlet covered hand phased through the man's chest, the man groaning and welling in tears before screaming in agony as Fenris crushed his heart. When he pulled his hand back out to ruin the day of the other two they were struck by lightning from Hawke's staff. They sizzled like the pigs they were. Fenris motioned for them to head home as purples, pinks, oranges and light blues streaked across the sky.
Fenris glanced across the way at Amara, she smiled and waved while biting her lower lip. He waved his gauntlet. When she disappeared into the house he took out a knife and peeled off some of the bark from the tree and retired inside. He locked the door and went from room to room to make sure no one was hiding in the shadows. Then paced back to his room and light several candles. He disrobed until he was left with the small clothes that went around his hips and began to break the sand dollars open, collecting the little doves and then grinding the shells into powder.
He used several small pots to boil bark, or petals, or berries in water. Using others her ground into powders and dyed with colored liquid with wheat paste and made a paste that he baked into varying sizes. Soft pastels. Then played with the colors, making reddish browns with the clay and soft flesh colors with the beach sand. He mixed boiled and colored water, a flour and clay mixture, and milk to make jars of paint. While he was to wait for the paint to settle, his skin mind went crazy with the pastels he had made hours ago. He needed to hurry, the sun would rise soon and so would she.
He outlined, sketched then colored Argus laying at Hawke's feet in the library as he often did. A book placed in her hands and her eyes focused on words he couldn't read for himself. He stuck his finger in the ink well on his desk and stamped the left corner. He washed up and went to bed. He'd wait until morning to have Argus deliver his efforts to her.