Tempest
The crowd at The Hanged Man was in high spirits tonight; a few fights, laughter, and ale flowing steadily. Hawke was distinctly not on the same page as everyone else, Isabela thought, drifting over to where she was sitting with Varric. Hawke's head was slumped down over her crossed arms on the worn table top. A partially full mug of ale was next to her, and she would periodically lift herself up to take a large swig before plunking her head back down. She was very drunk. Varric was watching her sympathetically.
"So, anything you want to talk about?" Isabela asked, rubbing Hawke's shoulders gently.
"No," she replied, her voice muffled by the fact that she didn't bother to raise her head.
Isabela and Varric shared a knowing glance.
"Blondie," mouthed Varric and Isabela sighed. The tension that simmered between Hawke and Anders was so painfully obvious. Andraste's ass, even Merrill had commented on it more than once. Nights like these with her helping an inebriated Hawke back to her mansion were becoming more and more frequent since she and Anders had apparently come to some sort of mutual decision to avoid each other. It was frustrating.
"Here's a thought," Isabela said as Hawke surfaced for another drink. "Why don't you just throw yourself at him already? Seriously, just throw him up against the wall and have your way with him."
Hawke looked at her with bleary eyes. "It's not that… simple." She struggled for the right words. "I have thrown myself at him. Numerous times. He doesn't, he doesn't want me."
Isabela snorted. "Of course, he wants you. He just not willing to let himself have you."
"Well, either way, I end up here. Getting drunk. Drunker." Her head flopped down again.
"I think it's time you got home," Varric said, rising from the table. "Do you want me to take her tonight?"
"Sure, thanks, Varric," Isabela sighed once more, running her hands through her friend's hair. "Oh, Hawke, I wish there was something I could do to help."
oOoOo
Hawke stretched out and grabbed the nearest pillow, jamming it over her head. Why did the blasted sun have to be so bright anyway? Her head was pounding in time with her heart, ebbing thuds that made her groan and tug the pillow down harder. Why did she do this to herself? It's not like it was helping matters anyway. With a grunt, she forced herself to sit up, leaning against the headboard for balance. Unsteadily, she called for Orana to draw her a bath before bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them. She really had to stop doing this.
She sat there miserably for several minutes, attempting to feel better through sheer force of will alone. It wasn't working. Her head felt like an overripe melon, threatening to burst, and her stomach was lurching uneasily. Time for drastic measures, she concluded. Reaching over to the small table beside the bed she fumbled through the drawer until her fingers closed around the small blue vial that she knew was there. Pulling it out, she tilted it slightly in the agonizing brightness of the room – only a few swallows left. Grimacing, she realized that she wasn't exactly in a position to ask Anders to make her more any time soon.
It had been a few months now since they had last spoken, Hawke thought regretfully. She had tried to convince herself that this forced separation was for the best, but it didn't help how much she missed him. She longed for his presence, the friendly banter that always made her feel welcome, the precious few heated moments they had shared before he pushed her away again with a sad smile and hunger in his eyes. No, they couldn't be just friends. She wanted more than he could give and she was done bashing her head against the wall to try and break through to him. Although her current plan of drinking herself into a stupor when it all got to be too much was clearly not working either, Hawke considered grimly. She took a controlled sip from the vial, preserving as much as possible of the potion that remained. Almost instantly, the pain in her head lessened to bearable proportions and she almost moaned with relief. Carefully reinserting the stopper, she slid the vial back into the drawer.
The bath helped immensely as well, and Hawke felt almost normal as she dressed. Heading downstairs to the kitchen, she grabbed the notes that Bodahn had left for her on the side table before sitting down to breakfast. She flipped through them idly as she ate until she reached one that made her stop cold. She would recognize his handwriting anywhere. Her hands shook a little as she broke the seal and skimmed its contents. She read it through a few times, puzzled. They had both agreed to maintain the space between them, so what was Anders playing at? Why this? An invitation to stroll the market place this afternoon, gorge on the delights of the street vendors, just as they had done in the early days of their friendship… What was he trying to prove, she pondered, pushing back a lock of hair that had dropped into her eyes. She debated about turning him down, but she knew, deep down, that she would be there. They were bound together, some strange undercurrent driving them that they were both powerless to resist.
Hawke rose slowly from the table, the remainder of her breakfast forgotten, the casually scribbled note still in her hand. I must be crazy to even be considering this, she mulled ruefully. Maybe, he's changed his mind about where we stand. She chewed on her lower lip, trying to slow the nervous gallop of her heart. No, I can't think like that. You've had your hopes crushed enough times now. Don't fall for it again. With a sigh, she shoved the letter into her pocket and headed for the door.
The summer heat had settled on Kirkwall early this year and the air was muggy and oppressive. Probably be a storm tonight, she thought with a slight smile. She loved storms, the raw power streaking through the sky and making the houses tremble. She hoped it would be a big one. Seeking company, she strolled slowly to The Hanged Man, hoping to catch Isabela or Varric. Maybe they would be able to talk her out of meeting him this afternoon before she made a complete fool of herself. Lost in thought, she walked with little attention to her surroundings, arriving at the tavern without even realizing it.
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside. She wrinkled her nose at the waft of stale air and liquor. A few heads glanced her way before turning back to their cups… No Isabela. She approached the bedrooms in the back and knocked hopefully on the door of Varric's suite. She waited a few moments but there was no reply. Walking slowly back through the bar room, Hawke considered her options. She still had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Anders… Maybe Aveline could use a hand?
Aveline was happy to see her, and she whiled away the morning conducting drills and sparring with some of the newer recruits. The exertion helped calm her nerves somewhat and Hawke found herself in better spirits as she left for the marketplace. The haze of heat had intensified into sticky blanket that hung over the city and she was grateful that she didn't have far to walk. She wondered what it was going to feel like, seeing him again after so long. Did he ever think of her, what could have been, or was he too much under Justice's thumb to care now? Moving slowly through the throng of people, she strolled towards a fruit stand with a bright yellow awning… Their old meeting place. She couldn't help searching the crowd for him, hoping to spot him first. The voice behind her made her jump.
"Hawke," he said, the timbre of his voice made a shiver ripple down her spine.
"Anders," she replied softly, turning to face him.
"I wasn't sure you would actually be here." His face looked thinner than she remembered and the shadows under his eyes a little deeper. His smile was sweet and almost hesitant. "It's so good to see you." He took her hands gently, giving them a squeeze, before letting go.
"It's good to see you too," she murmured, drawing closer to place a quick kiss on his cheek. His breath hitched ever so slightly, but she pretended not to notice.
"Shall we?" Anders asked, offering her his arm.
With a nod, Hawke hooked her arm in his. They walked in silence at first, sharing tentative glances, afraid of crushing the fragile bridge that they were building between them. She cleared her throat quietly before speaking. "So, how are things going at the clinic?" A nice safe topic of conversation, she thought.
"Well enough, I suppose. No matter what I do, it's never really enough," he said with a slight shrug. "There is just so much suffering, so much pain. I can't even imagine how much harder it would be for them if I wasn't there. It's exhausting, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"Is there anything you need? Anything I can do to help?"
"Always trying to help, aren't you?" Anders smiled. "Well, we could always use more bandages, blankets, and towels if you have any you can spare."
"Let me see what I can do," she replied.
"The children miss you, you know," he added softly as her grey eyes darted up to meet his amber ones. She heard the unsaid words as clearly as if he had said them aloud. I miss you.
"They do?"
He nodded. Before their self-imposed exile, Hawke had often spent her days at the clinic, enjoying Anders' company and trying to be useful. While she wasn't a mage or a healer, she genuinely enjoyed helping the people there. She loved the sharp herbal tang of ground elfroot that tickled her nose combined with the hint of lyrium and the particular soap that Anders always used. Somehow, being there made her feel lighter, more at ease. She missed it horribly. She swallowed, trying to banish the lump forming in her throat.
"If you wanted to stop by some time, they might like that. But, only if you want to," He trailed off into silence.
Hawke hesitated, torn. She had resolved to keep her distance but it was just so damn hard. Maker, how she missed him. Which torture was worse, she wondered, a life without him or one with him and only the meager leavings of affection that Justice allowed? She slowly let out a breath as he studied her face, afraid to look away. He had reached out to her by wanting to meet today... Could she really condemn him to a life of being nothing more than Justice's pawn?
"I'd like that," she heard herself say. The smile that broke across his face lit up his eyes and she couldn't help smiling back. "I've missed you and your smelly herbs and I suspect that your supply cupboard is already in a complete shambles," she said with quiet playfulness.
"Yes," he replied with a mock sigh. "I've given up on your meticulous cupboard organization scheme and have gone back to the old way of chucking it all in there and hoping for the best."
"I thought all you healers were naturally predisposed to being neat and tidy. Isn't that part of the job description?"
"No, you see, that is what the healer's assistant is for. My time is clearly far too important to waste on such trivialities," Anders puffed pompously. His mouth twitched, holding back a grin.
Hawke suppressed a chuckle and tried to sound indignant. "So, I'm your assistant now am I? Does that come with a pay increase? Or pay at all for that matter?"
"Let's see I can pay you in, um, used bandages? Maybe a blanket that someone has leaked some random assortment of bodily fluids on?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Ewwwww…" Hawke succumbed to a fit of giggles and was surprised when Anders joined her. It was as if a weight she hadn't even known she was carrying had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn't want to be without him anymore. She needed him and watching the way the laughter pulled Anders back into his old self, she knew that he needed her too. She couldn't turn her back on him, no matter how much it might hurt.
"C'mon, I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat." He pulled on her arm, leading her towards the corner of the market where the hot food vendors were set up. The enticing aroma of spices and grilled meat made her stomach rumble loudly. Anders gave her a smirk before strolling over to request their favorites. Moments later, they were juggling several wooden bowls overflowing with food as they tried to find a place to sit down. The crowd of people jostling for the few small tables was so large that they ended up perching themselves on one of the stone half-walls nearby.
Hawke passed Anders several skewers of roasted lamb as he handed her a bowl of the furiously spicy noodles that she loved so much. "It has been far too long since I've had these," she slurped with a groan of pleasure.
Anders made a vaguely strangled sound. "That is far too erotic a noise to be made while eating, Hawke."
She grinned at him mischievously. "I'd be more than happy to make that sound for you under other circumstances," she said, licking her lips suggestively. "But, you know that already." Her last words were as light-hearted as she could make them, hoping to keep the sadness from creeping back into his eyes.
"I know." He looked pained for the briefest moment, before resuming his meal enthusiastically. Hawke had yet to meet another man that could eat like him; "Grey Warden thing" was all he ever said about it.
When they had finished, Anders stretched contentedly like a cat in the afternoon sun while she returned the bowls to the vendors. She practically bounced back with a bowl filled with some sort of small blood red seeds.
"Look! They have pomegranates!" Hawke was excited. "I haven't seen these in years… I wonder who imported them. But, who cares? Pom-e-gran-ates!" She enunciated the final word slowly while waving the bowl under Anders' nose. He couldn't help smiling at her; how could he not when she was rarely so animated and silly.
"Are you always so insane when it comes to fruit?"
"Only for pomegranates." She popped a few of the arils into her mouth and chewed happily. "They remind me of my father. When I was young, he helped a trader who was passing through Lothering when he fell ill. He stayed with us for a few weeks and my father refused his money after he had recovered. So the trader gave him a sack full of pomegranates instead. I remember sitting outside in the grass, Carver running around pulling Bethany's hair, and my father patiently sitting with a bucket of water, freeing the seeds from the rind. The arils float in the water, while the pith and rind sink, so it makes it easier to separate them. See, you learned something today," Hawke said with a wink. "Here, you have to try them."
Anders took a few of the small seeds with his fingers. They looked like tiny rubies in his palm. Popping them into his mouth and chewing, he was surprised at how tart and flavorful they were. Hawke was watching him expectantly, and he grinned at her. "Those are fantastic."
"Aren't they?" She sighed blissfully and they quickly polished off the bowl. They sat in amicable silence, watching the seemingly never ending crowds pass by. Anders reached out and took her hand with a smile and she leaned against his side comfortably. If only they could just stay here, in this moment, forever.
"Thank you, Hawke," Anders said quietly.
"For what?" She turned to look at him but he was staring down at his hands.
"For today. For this." He gestured at themselves and the bustling marketplace. "For being here with me… For coming back. I really have missed you."
"I've missed you too," she admitted softly. More than you know.
He glanced up at her then, unable to hide the longing in his eyes. Her lips looked almost bloody, stained with juice, and he couldn't help wondering if she would taste like those sweet ruby-red seeds .The tips of her hair had devolved into wispy curls in the humidity and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her neck. She stared back at him, waiting, wishing; her grey eyes like storm clouds. The hum of the market faded into the background. His hand came up tentatively, and he slowly traced over her cheek bones and down her jaw line with his thumb. She shuddered at his touch, almost closing her eyes.
"Anders," she breathed. He was so close. She wanted him so badly; her whole body flushed with desire. His thumb was ghosting lightly over her lips and she couldn't resist drawing the tip into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it briefly before grazing it with her teeth. Anders looked like he was struggling for breath but his caress continued down to her chin, his eyes fixed on hers hungrily. Hawke's hands crept towards his robe, to pull him towards her, when he suddenly backed away, his hands falling limply back into his lap. She didn't miss the spark of blue that had flashed from his eyes the instant before. Justice. Hawke felt her anger flare. The spirit was using him and she was powerless to do anything about it. He looked at her apologetically as she tried to shake off the hurt that she felt. Why did it always have to be like this between them now?
"Let's go," she said a little gruffly, trying to disguise the tears that were on the verge of spilling. "There are a few more things that I wanted to see."
He took her arm again as they explored the various stalls – rich, fragrant spices, exotic fruits, jewelers, and grizzled craftsmen. The heat was still oppressive, although the blue sky was now obscured by clouds. There would certainly be a storm tonight. They walked in silence once more, the hint of tension still electric between them. Hawke pulled him over to a stall selling various candies and sweets and then proceeded to purchase an enormous amount.
"You aren't going to eat all that yourself, are you?" Anders asked, puzzled.
"No, silly," she said as she deposited the parcel in his arms, "It's for the children who live near the clinic."
"Thanks," he said gratefully, glad that the pain in her eyes had receded once more. She gave him a wan smile.
He wished he could just force himself to stop wanting her. He didn't mean to keep leading her on. Every time he managed to clamp down on his emotions, all would take was a look or a touch from her and his resolve to push her away would crumble once more. Anders knew how hard this was for her and he desperately hoped she didn't know how close he was to giving in to the temptation she offered. The absence of the past few months had made his desire burn brighter and hotter than ever before; so many nights alone spent aching for her.
In his mind, Justice continued to prattle on about how he should just leave now, go back to the way things were. Push her away, as hard and as fast as you can, he said in Anders' thoughts. You're hurting her more this way. There is no future here for you together and you know it. Anders shook his head lightly, shoving Justice back into the recesses of his mind. I love her, he thought. Then leave her behind before you break her, came the faint reply.
Oblivious to his internal warring, Hawke strolled along side him, pensive, lost in her own thoughts. She paused at a vendor selling jewelry and Anders couldn't help but smile watching her. The seller was a wrinkled old man with a long white beard and he seemed genuinely delighted to have someone interested in his work. Hawke indulged him, asking details about each one, how it was made, how the designs were chosen. Anders noticed that her fingers kept drifting back to one piece in particular; a simple circular pendant with a dark green stone on a silver chain. It looked familiar somehow, and he tried to place where he might have seen it before. Finally it clicked – Bethany. He remembered Bethany had been wearing something very similar when they were in the Deep Roads. She was gone now, with the Wardens and not dead, mercifully, but he knew Hawke still felt responsible for what had happened. She and her sister had been close, especially having already lost Carver, and he knew that Hawke felt her loss more keenly than she would ever admit.
Catching the vendor's eye as Hawke was examining a ring on the other side of the table, Anders pointed to the necklace. "How much?" he mouthed, glancing conspiratorially at Hawke, hoping the old man would realize what he was up to. The man grinned, his eyes crinkling up warmly, as he held up a few fingers. It was much less than what Anders thought it must be worth. Hawke glanced back to ask something about the ring she was holding and Anders quickly slipped a few coins from his pocket. When she was distracted again he surreptitiously handed to the coins to the old man, ignoring his look of protest that he had given him too much with a shake of his head. He slid the necklace into his palm feeling slightly nervous. Glancing up, he noticed that the sky was now an ominous dark shade of grey. They should probably part ways soon, before the rain began in full force, he thought with a pang of sadness. The number of people in the market had noticeably lessened already. Her touch on his arm made him jump.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she smiled, her eyes soft and warm. His heart clenched tightly.
"Turn around," he whispered. She looked up at him with confusion. "Turn around," he said again, "It's a surprise." She still looked at him strangely, but did as he asked.
Anders gently swept her hair away from her neck and he felt her sharp intake of breath as she froze. He carefully opened the clasp and reached around her to drape the pendant over her collarbone. His fingers trailed across the soft skin at the nape of her neck as he fastened it. His own breath was shaky as he stepped back.
"Anders?" She turned to face him. "How did you – "
"It looks just the like the one she always wore. I thought it might make you feel better to have one like it."
"Thank you," she murmured, sweeping him into a tight embrace. He held her close for a moment, reveling in the feel of her body against his and the sweet smell of her hair, before pushing her back lightly.
"We should go soon," he said with a sigh. The normally bright colours of the market were muted with shadow and he had felt the first few tentative drops of rain. Vendors were scurrying to secure tarps over their stands, gathering up their items and produce to sell again tomorrow.
Hawke paused. "You don't have to go," she blurted out. "You could come for dinner or we could go play some cards at The Hanged Man." The frequency of the raindrops was increasing and her pale shirt was slowly being marred by heavy droplets. Like tears, he thought.
"I… I don't know if I should," he hesitated, torn between Justice's nattering and what he truly wanted. She looked at him pleadingly as the wind slowly pulled tendrils of her hair around her face. Suddenly, the downpour began in earnest, and they both looked up in mild shock as the heavens released their burden and sheets of rain came cascading down. They were both instantly soaked.
She grabbed his arm. "This way!" Hawke yelled over the sudden pounding of the storm. She held onto him as they ran, looking for some sort of cover. The awnings in the marketplace offered almost no protection and they could see vendors scrambling to cover their goods, needing to protect their livelihoods before they could escape the storm themselves. "Here!" With a quick yank, she pulled him into a niche in the side of a building.
The doorway was extremely narrow but it had enough of an overhang to keep the rain off if they stayed exactly where they were. "There, that's better." She was breathing more heavily with the thrill of their mad dash for shelter and she grinned up at him. Anders was having a hard time remembering to breathe. She was molded tightly against him as they crammed together to fit under the overhang. They were both completely drenched and Hawke's shirt and trousers clung to her every curve. He swallowed tightly, trying to will what was happening beneath his robes to stop. It was soon going to be very obvious how much he desired her and there was nowhere to go. A wall of rain surrounded them; the rest of the world was gone. It was just them left in this tiny bastion, just Anders and Hawke. And Justice, he thought bitterly.
She was so beautiful. The thought of her naked, writhing beneath him, calling out his name, came to him unbidden and he had to stifle a gasp. She was looking up at him but he avoided her gaze, embarrassed.
"Anders?" she said softly. He was rock hard now. There was no way she couldn't know what he was feeling. She lifted her hand to tilt his face down. "Look at me. Please."
He couldn't look at her. If he did, he would be undone. There was only one thing to do – he ran.
Hawke stood there stunned as Anders bolted out into the rain. She was filled with a burst of rage that threatened to consume her. She had had enough of this. They were going to deal with this now whether he wanted to or not. She tore after him, her heart pumping wildly. The rain was still coming down hard and fast, obscuring her vision. She pushed the wet mass of curls out of her eyes as she ran, turning in the direction of Darktown and Anders' clinic. She could see a shadow moving quickly up ahead and she hoped it was him. She pushed herself onward, her breath coming in choked gasps, as she closed the distance between them.
"Anders! Stop!" she yelled, and she saw him hesitate. Realizing how fast she was barreling down on him, he paused, paralyzed. Hawke slowed but didn't stop, pushing him roughly against the stone wall of the alleyway.
"We're going to finish this. Now," she snarled. Her chest was heaving with exertion. "Look at me. Tell me you want me to leave you alone. Tell me you don't want me," Hawke ordered, her eyes glinting like steel.
He reluctantly met her eyes and, behind the fury, he saw the passion and hunger there that mirrored his own. He struggled to speak while Justice screamed warnings in his head. "Hawke, I can't do this anymore." He sagged under the weight of his words. "I need you. I can't live without you," he whispered thickly.
"Then don't," was all she said before she crushed his mouth with hers. He gasped at the force of it, before kissing her back just as fiercely. He was shaking with want as he swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her at last. Her hips ground against him and he wanted nothing more than to tear her clothing aside and take her here, right now. Hawke was drunk with desire – she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Her head fell back as Anders burned kisses down her neck.
"Clinic," he panted. "Now." Pushing her back, he grabbed her hand and they ran through the rain. He tried not to think, he couldn't second-guess this, not now. Justice tried to claw his way back to the surface, but Anders roughly shoved him back. He needed this. He wanted this. He loved her.
They reached the clinic and he fumbled impatiently in his pockets for the key before finally unlocking the door. The room was dim and shadowed but they both rushed in, eager to be out of the downpour. The familiar fragrances of elfroot and lyrium greeted Hawke as she wiped the rivulets of water out of her eyes. It was like coming home at last. Anders shut and bolted the door behind her and she turned to face him as a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room's sparse utilitarian furniture. He tossed the sodden package of candy on a nearby table as he approached, his eyes not leaving hers.
"Hawke." His voice was a low growl over the incessant drumming of the storm.
"Anders," came her cool reply. She waited for him to come to her as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. He stalked up slowly until he was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. She shivered, holding still, her heart beating feverishly in her chest. He dipped his head slightly and his lips brushed across hers, gentle and soft. She leaned into him to deepen the kiss but his palm pressed against her chest, holding her back.
"I'm sorry, Hawke," he murmured.
"For what?" she whispered.
"For not doing this sooner," he replied as his mouth descended once more.
His kiss was hard and bruising, unforgiving and hungry. She returned it eagerly, her hands coming up to grab his hair, as he backed her up against the wall. The feel of his body hard against her was dizzying and she moaned as he nipped her earlobe before pressing more hot kisses along her jaw. He grabbed her breasts roughly through her wet shirt, pinching the peaks of her nipples beneath his fingers. She could feel the heat of his arousal digging into her, fiery with need.
"Anders," she groaned, "I can't wait. I need you now. "Her hands were tugging at the trousers he wore beneath his armored robes.
"Hawke." His reply was breathless against the crook of her neck as thunder rattled the building.
He was so hard for her and the fluttering of her fingers at his waistband was enough to make him shudder. Pushing her hands away, he kicked his boots off hurriedly before deftly undoing his belt and pulling his trousers and smalls down and off into a wet heap on the floor. The relief at being freed from the tight confines of his clothing was exquisite but it was nothing compared to Hawke's fingers wrapping tightly around his shaft. She stroked him mercilessly, the rumble in his chest emerging as rough growl from his throat. He struggled to concentrate as he yanked her trousers down as well, and she let go of him long enough to pull the rest off herself. Anders kissed her again furiously as she hooked one of her legs up around his hips. She could feel his arousal pressing against her sex and she pushed herself against him wantonly. Taking the hint, he lifted her up so she could bring her other leg around him as well. He crushed her hard against the wall, moaning as he slid into her slick, moist heat. The sensation was unbearably sweet. He had hungered for her for so long.
"Oh, Maker, yes," she gasped, grinding against him as he began to thrust. "Harder," she begged, and he complied, pushing into her ferociously, devouring her neck as her head fell back against the coolness of the wall. "Anders, don't stop. Please, don't stop." Her whimpers were driving him mad with pleasure. He rocked himself into her again and again, panting wildly.
"Hawke, oh, Hawke," he groaned. He was so close. She suddenly shuddered around him with an aching cry and he couldn't hold on any longer. He thrust hard into her once more and nearly collapsed with the force of his release as he spilled himself inside her. His head dropped to her shoulder as he struggled to breathe.
After a moment, he slowly released her legs so she could stand although she still clung to him. He pulled her close, resting his head against her wet hair. She was shaking and it took him a moment to realize that she was crying.
"Hawke?" he asked tentatively. "Are you okay?" A cold chill settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he done something wrong? She lifted her face to look up at him. Huge tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. It's just that I've loved you for so long, Anders." Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it. He traced the line of her tears with the tip of his finger, waiting for her to continue. "I've wanted you, dreamed of you… It's been so hard." She swallowed, her voice quivering. "Now that we've, we've done this I don't know how I would live with things like they were before. I, I just can't. Promise me you're not going to push me away again. Please, tell me you don't regret this. I love you." Hawke shut her eyes tightly, tears streaming down her face, before burying her face in his chest with a muted sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Anders held her tightly as she cried against him, stroking her hair, until she began to slow. She needed this release too, he knew, and he didn't want to interrupt her until she was ready. "Hawke, look at me," he murmured. She glanced up tentatively and he smiled, placing a soft kiss at the corners of each of her eyes before bringing his lips to hers. She could taste the salt of her tears on him as he kissed her – long, sweet, and burning. She felt the embers of desire surge up again as his tongue danced with hers. He broke away reluctantly, his breathing ragged.
"I love you. I can't promise you the kind of life you deserve, but it would break my heart to lose you. I've denied myself for so long because I didn't want to hurt you, but I ended up hurting you anyway. I'm sorry, Hawke. I've been a fool." He caressed her face gently, smoothing away the last few tears.
She smiled at him then, her eyes smoldering with love and passion, and his heart forgot to beat until she kissed him again. He pulled her back towards his cot, his mouth still on hers. He sat down and she straddled him, perched on his legs. "Hang on, I want to look at you." She felt the briefest flare of magic as two candles nearby burst to life. "Better," he whispered, and he began unbuttoning her shirt with agonizingly slow motions of his fingers. As he worked his way down, she struggled with his clothing as well but there too many buckles and clasps that she couldn't seem to find. He chuckled. "Patience, love, we have all the time in the world."
He peeled her wet shirt away carefully leaving her clad in just her breast band. Leaning in, he sucked and bit at her breasts through the flimsy fabric and she arched her back with a whimper. She wanted the hot wetness of his mouth there and she reached back and tugged at the cloth until it tore. Refusing to comply, his mouth moved upwards, his tongue swirling over her collar bone as she growled in frustration. She felt him smile, placing a kiss over the green stone pendant that hung there before taking one of her nipples abruptly into his mouth and suckling.
"Anders," she cried, sliding herself forward on his lap so she could press herself against him. His erection twitched in response and he groaned, shifting to give her better access. "Take… these… off," she grumbled, yanking on his robes that still covered most of his upper body. He laughed, scooping her up and rolling her over onto the bed before sitting back and working the various buckles free.
She lay back, watching him hungrily, her hands drifting down to the mound between her legs as she waited. Watching her touch herself, he could barely contain his eagerness and he found himself tearing at his own clothing, ripping anything that didn't come free easily. So much for trying to take it slow this time, he thought wryly. Well, we do have all night, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the next… The happiness that surged in his chest filled him to bursting and he pounced on her like an animal.
"That's my job," he said, huskily, before replacing her fingers with his tongue. She writhed beneath him as he licked and nibbled, taking her to the brink once more. She was crying his name over and over and hearing his name pouring from her lips was driving him mad with need. She mewled in protest as he pulled away, but grinned as he moved over top of her, entering her fiercely. He slid slowly in and out of her as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on. The rhythm was frenzied and unstoppable and they moved together as one, gasping and moaning until she shouted his name and pulled him close, her body clenching around him. He followed, biting down on her shoulder as he came. Panting, they lay there spent and immobile.
Anders rolled off, worried he was crushing her, and she draped herself over him. Her head on his chest, she listened to the soothing sound of his heart rate returning to normal as she lazily traced her fingertips across the ridges of his muscles. His breathing gradually slowed, and she realized, with amusement, that he had fallen asleep. Hawke stood up gently so she wouldn't wake him and extinguished the candles, shrouding the room in darkness once more. She carefully lay back down next to him and he turned sleepily to pull her back into his embrace.
"Hawke?" he whispered, drowsily.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for asking me to meet you today. Until I got your note, I really believed that I was never going to see you again." She looked at him quizzically but he didn't seem to notice, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Stay with me. Always," he murmured. She nodded, holding him close until his breathing grew long and steady once more.
Hawke lay there in the shadows, awake, pondering, listening to the rain beating down on the roof until sleep finally claimed her as well.
oOoOo
The Hanged Man was packed with people as Hawke and Anders strolled in. Isabela gave her a quick wave before turning back to the bar.
"Well, good to see that this place never changes," he said, angling his words towards her ear so she would be able to hear him over the din.
She flashed him a grin. "Why don't you go find Varric and the others in the backroom? I'll grab us some drinks before we get started. I'll get you some of that wretched sparkling water that you like." Hawke made a face. "Oh, and I should warn you, since you haven't played cards with us for months, Merrill is finally getting the hang of it so you don't have to throw hands anymore to make her feel better."
"Good to know. Don't be too long, I might get lonely," he winked before kissing her lightly and sauntering off. She stared after him for a moment, admiring the view of his backside, before sliding up beside Isabela at the bar and ordering their drinks.
Isabela gave her a long appraising look. Hawke looked better than she had seen her in ages. Andraste's tits, the girl was practically glowing!
"We haven't seen you for a few nights now. Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Hawke said softly, "More than okay." She beamed before leaning over to give Isabela a kiss on the cheek.
"Are you trying to tell me something, Hawke, because I'm more than alright with that arrangement," she replied saucily.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Hawke said knowingly, tossing a coin at the bartender and grabbing their drinks. Isabela's vibrant laugh filled the room.
"That's what fabulously attractive meddlesome friends are for," she smiled. Hawke's radiant happiness was contagious.
"By the way," Hawke added slyly. "It worked you know."
"What worked?"
"What you suggested earlier. You know, throw him up against the wall, have my way with him… although, he did reciprocate rather nicely as well." She grinned wickedly.
"Now that's what I like to hear! I'm surprised you even remember me saying that considering how sloshed you were. Now, come on, Varric owes me some money." Isabela winked at her before laughing again.
She threw her arm over Hawke's shoulders, giving her a squeeze, as they went to join the others. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring but, for now, life was good.
Author's Note: Parts of this one were a real struggle to write. I'm not sure I'm 100% happy with the end product, but it's all a learning process, right? :) Thanks for reading!