Author's Note: Bioware owns all of these characters. PLEASE NOTE that the story in which this moment is re-imagined belongs completely and irrevocably to StumpyBear! The moment I'm reworking in this drabble is the property of StumpyBear. All credit to StumpyBear! The original story, The Arishok's Curiosity, is a beautiful, tender, erotic work. It is perfect in all its ways. I do not seek to add to or take away from this story. I just had a thought and ran with it. The first few lines of this drabble are taken directly from The Arishok's Curiosity for sequencing purposes. They are italicized and bold. You need to go and read StumpyBear's story if you haven't. It is wonderful!

"Please?" she whispered raggedly. Fire briefly raged in his eyes before he shook his head firmly.

"I've allowed too much already."

She feathered light kisses across his lips.

"Please," she breathed.

"I said no," his bellow was cruelly loud in the stillness.

The Arishok gripped her waist to move her from his lap, but Hawke's arms remained wrapped about his shoulders.

"Hawke." Her name was a warning, she knew, the only one she would be given.

"Pash-pashaara," she stammered in crude Qunlat.

He stopped to look at her, jaws flexing as he grit his teeth in anger and impatience.

"Arishok. I am no bas." Hawke made herself speak firmly despite the languor left over from the orgasm he'd given her moments ago.

"I am not accustomed to repeating myself, Haw-"

"I am no bas," she said again, willing herself to stare into his golden eyes.

"I am a warrior, not a maid. I have neither cowardice nor arrogance, and I am no fool. I know that this…" She raised her hands from his shoulders and gestured lamely at herself, searching for the right words.

"...this is not...the way of things. I know that you worry that you will hurt me, but..." The Arishok held her waist more gently now and she slid deeper into his lap and closer to what she desired to have inside of her. She placed her hands on his cheeks and eased his face to hers.

"I long for you in such a way," she sighed almost woefully and kissed him. As she deepened the kiss he was still, but the iron grip returned. Winding her arms around his neck, she lifted her hips and rubbed her wetness along his hard member and swallowed his groans.

"I am no bas," Hawke gasped against his mouth, grinding and swirling her hips in his lap, so mad with desire that she barely felt his fingers digging perilously into her flesh.

She slid a hand between them and he broke the kiss to glare into her eyes. Hawke stopped briefly and then continued down, holding his withering stare. When she grasped him, she sucked in a breath at the heat and size of him and felt the muscles of his stomach and thighs go more tense. She guided him to her entrance, her hips rocking against his in anticipation. As she lowered herself onto him, the Arishok broke their eye contact to press his face into her neck, his horns bumping softly against her ear.

"You," he began, then grunted softly at the wet heat slowly surrounding him.

"I am no-"

"Bas," he finished ruggedly and surged up into her, his roar barely drowning her scream of pleasure. He clutched her to him and brought his gaze back to hers. The effort to keep them both still strained his voice.

"Saarabas," he growled, confusing her until he spoke again. "Dangerous thing. You will ruin me." He saw sadness shadow her eyes beneath the fire of lust.

"Aye," Hawke whispered. "And you, me. But first..."

She crushed her mouth to his, sucking hungrily at his lips, and began to ride.