A/N: Not sure where this idea came from, but I'm running with it. All thoughts are appreciated!
Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age. Blegh.
Fenris was standing beside the lit hearth when Hawke roused. Her body was deliciously sore, reminiscent of the wonderful, mind numbing, unforgettable night she had just spent with one of her companions. Why had he left the bed, though? Slowly she pushed herself up onto her elbow, propping her chin in her hand. A soft, somewhat amused smirk crossed her lips.
"Was it that bad?"
He turned and she almost purred, enjoying the way the fire light played off his skin. He'd dressed though; what a shame. He was absolutely delicious, more so naked. She could look at him all night. However, given the apprehensive expression plastered on his features, she was beginning to think that option was unlikely.
"I'm sorry. It was...fine."
She blinked; well, that was not the answer she had expected. She wasn't fine – she was great. She'd never had any complaints. He'd appeared to be enjoying himself. She cocked her brow and waved a hand, indicating him to go on. There was no way that was all he had to say about what they'd done.
"No, that is...insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed." He smiled slightly, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Surely he wasn't regretting it.
"Is it your markings? They were quite...alight, during our activities."
"It's not that," he assured her. Hawke yawned briefly and allowed herself to sit up as she swung her legs over the ledge of the bed. His eyes heated briefly as they took in her naked flesh; yes please. "I began to remember," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it, "My life before. Just flashes."
Hawke pursed her lips thoughtfully. "And this upsets you?" She figured he would be happy regaining his lost memories...or not, if they proved to be ones of the unpleasant sort. Given his life before Kirkwall, she'd put her sovereigns on them being unpleasant.
"It is...too much," he admitted hesitantly. "I feel like such a fool, Hawke. I cannot do this. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. Forgive me." He turned to leave her room and she couldn't help but laugh. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, pacing to the end of the bed. "What is so amusing?"
Hawke leaned back on her elbows, stretching her long, pale legs out on the bed, unashamed of her nudity. His gaze heated once more and she licked her lips, feeling the fire between them raging as it had earlier in the night. "I fail to see why this shouldn't have happened."
He blinked, his expression carefully blank. Words seemed to be failing him in the face of her nudity, or her words. Either was fine by her. To her surprise, Fenris' cheeks tinted slightly red – from shame or embarrassment, she didn't know. Did his ears blush too? The thought was...adorable. "Hawke?" He gestured with a hand for her to continue.
"We are adults, are we not?" He nodded. "There is only as much here as you place. We're two friends who have an...undeniable attraction to each other. We had sex. It isn't a big deal."
He appeared shocked. "It isn't? I find this...unlikely."
"Really?" Hawke chuckled. "I figure after hanging around Isabela for so long, you shouldn't."
"You have a fair point."
Hawke smiled slowly, trailing her finger down her sternum between her plump breasts. Her nipples hardened expectantly. "I quite enjoyed what we did, Fenris. If you fear that I am in love with you and fear hurting me, you needn't be. We're friends..." She grinned openly. "With benefits, aye?" He licked his lips and briefly closed his eyes, a shudder wracking his body. When he opened them, she thought she might combust beneath his fiery jade gaze. "Mmm, Fenris, come back to bed," she purred.
"Friends...with benefits," he repeated, testing the words on his tongue. He must have decided they sounded well enough because he nodded and, after stripping himself bare, crawled back into the massive four poster bed.
They didn't get much sleep that night, but Maker, who needed sleep when you had an exotically attractive elf in your bed?
A week later, they found themselves once more tumbling into bed together. They had been arguing heatedly for well over an hour, then suddenly they were tearing each others' clothes off and going at like two horny teenagers. A couple days after that, it happened again. Then again. Before she knew it, they were having sex on a regular basis; not that Hawke was complaining, mind you, quite the opposite in fact. She made sure to let Fenris know how much she was enjoying herself, especially given that the feeling seemed to be mutual.
They might as well be two horny teenagers – they were going at it as much as possible, wherever they could get away with it. She was surprised the whole of Kirkwall didn't hear them, especially when they had sex in the alleys or even in the Chantry. Mmm...that had been a good afternoon. More so since every time she now saw Sebastian, he flushed red to the tips of his hair. Not that she could blame him; what he'd seen Fenris doing to her...well, she would be surprised to find out he hadn't retreated to his chambers to take care of a hard pressed issue that had arisen.
It was safe to say she and Fenris made it a habit to have each other whenever and wherever they could.
She found herself thinking about him frequently. What surprised her was that she began to start thinking about more than just the sex. Sometimes he would sleep over, but most time he wouldn't, not wanting to indulge himself in such intimacy. Hawke usually didn't either; she wasn't the type who did relationships. Relationships never lasted and never ended well – why complicate it? Sex with Fenris was sex. There wasn't any attachment there. Or so she told herself.
At least until that night, when everything changed, because that is when she had realized, with horrifying and startling clarity, that she was in love with her beautiful and damaged friend with benefits.
Three and a half years had passed since they'd started sleeping together. No complications, no strings, no commitment, and thankfully no unplanned kids – thanks to Anders and his potions. While it pleased her immensely – and he as well – she found that it, in turn, made her more lonely than she had ever had. Even more so since she had lost her mother. The house was big and empty, beside herself, Bodahn, Oranna, and Sandal – but her mother's presence had been what made it feel like home. Now all that was left here was the intimate interludes with her companion that had began to, recently, make her aware of how alone she truly was.
There couldn't be anything there, she continuously reminded herself. Even if there could, Fenris didn't want it as far as she could discern.
Hawke sighed and scrubbed her hands across her face, then ran her fingers through her disheveled auburn curls. Reluctantly, she climbed out of her bed. Her lips twisted wryly at the appearance of her rumpled and disorderly sheets. Then more so when she began to scoop up her discarded clothing strewn across the floor. Fenris had left not too long ago, but she'd been too mortified to face him when he did, so she'd pretended to be asleep.
She was sure he would have been ashamed if he'd realized she'd faked her orgasm.
She'd never had to fake it, but for some reason, she hadn't been able to fall over the precipice last night. Maker, had she tried, but something had felt wrong, almost amiss, as if she were disconnected from the whole act. It had felt...empty, almost routine, yet, despite that, it had pained her as if something had been missing.
"Stop over analyzing, Hawke," she muttered to herself. "Just don't think about it...won't do any good. Let's start easy, okay? Get dressed and get moving."
Feeling more like herself now, she dressed and left the manor.
The day started out innocently enough. A few errands here and there, as per the usual – after all, no one in the damned city of chains could be bothered to solve their own problems. She started by delivering a few things around town, picking though stalls in both the Hightown and Lowtown markets, doing whatever she could to keep herself preoccupied. It was at the Hightown market that Fenris managed to track her down.
She was leaning over one of the tables, gazing longingly at an intricately carved mage's staff; she was surprised they still carried them, considering the war brewing between Meredith and Orsino. Her teeth worried her lower lip while she sorted through her sovereigns.
"I do so enjoy when you bite your lip," a husky voice breathed against her ear. She shuddered and couldn't help but chomp down on said lower lip as she turned to face him. His heated gaze made her weak in the knees.
"Fenris."
His delectable lips lifted into a slightly amused smirk. "Hawke."
Hawke fidgeted, suddenly nervous around him which made absolutely no sense considering what they'd done together. Her heart fluttered frantically and she bit her lip, turning back toward the table. "I'll take this," she said as she passed the sovereigns to the shopkeeper. She picked up the staff and nodded her thanks before she gathered her courage to face Fenris again, thankful for the brief distraction to settle her nerves.
What in the Maker was wrong with her?
"Ah, I see you've purchased yourself a new...staff." His lip curls partially in distaste and Hawke grimaces; one thing that always stood between them in their friendship was the fact that she was a mage and often time, she took the mage user's side in mage/templar disputes(often their arguments led to...a more interesting way to spend their time and energy).
"Aye. The tensions brewing between Orsino and Meredith...well, I don't see it ending well." Hawke shrugged, looking down at her new staff as she fingered it nervously. She could feel his eyes on her and it came as no shock that her body was responding. Already the throbbing between her thighs had started and her abdomen muscles tensed in readiness. It didn't help that she was sexually frustrated after last night; with that thought her face flushed red in embarrassment.
"Hawke? Are you ill?"
"Ah, nay. I'm fine and well." She cleared her throat conspiratorially as she lifted her soft blue gaze to his pensive, lean features. His jade eyes were watching her, assessing her from head to toe. She had to fight the compulsion to fidget. "Was there a reason you sought me out, Fenris? Something by chance I can assist you with?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, his expression darkened ominiously. Something was wrong. She swallowed thickly and he nodded. "I would like to request your assistance in regards to a...personal matter."
"Fenris?"
He reached out and grasped her hand. "Come."
"Fenris!"
Hawke screamed his name in warning, her heart in her throat. It was a trap! He had been right in asking for her help, suspecting that this was a trap, but to the Void, they weren't prepared for this. Oh she had heard tales of Danarius over the years, especially after they'd tracked and killed Hadriana, but Maker preserve her, she wasn't prepared for the burning anger raging to release when her eyes spotted the slim, grey haired elf descending the stairs of the Hanged Man with his hired associates.
This was the man responsible for Fenris' pain, his damage, and the reason why she and Fenris couldn't be more – and here he was, preparing to drag her Fenris back to that despicable life. Wait – did she really just think of him as her Fenris? Shit, it didn't matter. When it came down to her and Danarius, Fenris was hers'. She was not about to let that filthy man put his hands on Fenris again.
"You!" She hissed the words at the mage, taking a menacing step toward him. He was speaking, but she heard no words as the rage inside made her heart thunder in her ears.
"You!" Fenris turned a murderous glare upon the red haired elf whom Hawke had learned was his sister. Varania, the bitch. "You betrayed me! You led him here!"
"I'm sorry it came to this Leto," Varania sighed. Hawke swung her gaze to the young girl and glared so menacingly that she took an unconscious step away.
"Now now Fenris, don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should." Danarius tsk'd and smirked, as if pleased with himself. Hawke had to fight to keep herself from smacking that smirk right off his damnable face. Fenris took a step toward the mage and growled.
"I never wanted your filthy markings, but I won't let you kill me to get them!"
Danarius laughed softly, shaking his head as if disappointed. "How little you know, my pet."
Pet? PET! Oh so help me, I'll skin that damned mage alive...watch him drown in his own blood!
Danarius turned his gaze toward Hawke, regarding her coolly. "This is your new master then?" He appeared unimpressed. Hawke's fingernails bit into her palm as she clenched her hands to restrain herself. "The Champion of Kirkwall? I do suppose she is lovely." He smiled though it didn't reach his eyes.
Bastard!
"Fenris doesn't belong to anyone and I'll see you dead before you lay another finger on him," she hissed.
Danarius grinned, amused. "Do I detect a note of jealousy? Mmm, it's not surprising." He waved his hand dismissively, eyes moving to Fenris to run over the elf's body appreciatively. "The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?"
"Shut your mouth Danarius!" Fenris snapped as his markings flared in his anger.
"The word is master."
Hawke saw red.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Hawke screamed and grabbed the mage by his neck, nails biting into his flesh as he hung there, trying to pry her hands free. This bastard had hurt Fenris, time and time again; she didn't fully comprehend the depths of his depravity, she hoped she never did, but she would make him pay for every little thing he had ever done to the man she loved.
The man I love...?
"You are not his master any longer!" Hawke hissed the words and , eyes glowing, she wrenched Danarius' head to the side and broke his neck. Panting, she dropped his lifeless body. Not yet appeased, she swung her gaze toward Varania and approached her with menacing steps, her intentions clear to everyone present.
"I had no choice!" The elven girl cried in defense.
"I don't give a shit," Hawke hissed.
"Hawke." Fenris reached for her but she shook him off, too angry and too determined to let this stupid girl get away with betraying the only man she had ever loved. No one hurt him, not on her watch, and anyone whom did, would pay.
"He was going to make me an apprentice. I would have been a Magister," she continued. Hawke's lips curled in disgust. To the Void with the bloody power hungry Magisters!
"You sold out your own brother to become a Magister?" Fenris growled; it was the worst thing Varania could have said in her defense. Hawke took a step toward her again, but Fenris yanked her back.
"You have no idea what we went through!" Varania cried. "What I've had to do since Mother died! I did what I had to; this was my only chance!"
Fenris' marks flared in his anger and he took a step toward her, arm raised as if he meant to rip the girl's heart from her chest. Hawke lifted her staff, eyes glowing, and sent a bolt of pure lightning straight at the girl's heart. Varania gasped and clutched her chest, before she fell to the ground and seized uncontrollably. It lasted only a moment before she lay still, eyes wide open and face frozen in horror.
"What have you done?" Fenris turned to face Hawke, his face contorted still with anger – whether or not it was her doing, she was uncertain.
"You were going to do it yourself," Hawke breathed before narrowing her eyes, "she deserved it, regardless of whom dealt the blow. I'm glad she's dead."
"Hawke?" Fenris regarded her cautiously now. He'd never seen her this way, she was sure. Blast it, she'd never been this way before – cruel and vindictive. It left a bitter taste in her mouth and yet, she was still glad that she'd killed those who dared to hurt Fenris. This is what love does, she thought bitterly. Fenris sighed and lowered his gaze. "I thought discovering my past would bring a sense of belonging, but I was wrong. Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone."
His words angered her, yet touched her in a way she didn't understand. She wanted to reach out and cup his beautiful face in her hands, kiss his lips, and make him forget everything, so he could learn to love her, learn that his past didn't matter. "I'm here Fenris," she breathed, only taking a single step toward him.
He gazed at her perplexed. "Hawke?"
"I..." She bit her lip and shook her head, taking a step back. If she told him the truth he would run.
"I need to get out of here," he finally muttered.
"No, wait – Fenris," she grabbed his arm when he moved to pass her.
"Let me go!"
"No! Wait, please, Fenris –"
"I do not wish to linger in this place any longer. This magic has tainted my very soul," he spat the words out bitterly, yanking his arm from her desperate grasp.
Her hand trembled as it fell back to her side. She curled her fingers angrily, eyes narrowed. "You despise all that is magic, don't you?"
"Aye!" He snapped impatiently, raking his gauntlet clad fingers through his hair in his frustration.
"Even I then," Hawke spat out the words bitterly.
Fenris' eyes widened a fraction. "Hawke, that isn't what I meant –"
"Enough, it doesn't matter." He'd admitted it. He despised magic, even her because she too wielded the curse of being a mage. He could never lover her and this could never work; she had been foolish to think they could have sex and everything would remain the unchanged. In the midst of their torrid affair, she'd fallen for him and now everything had changed. They would never be the same, not now. She could play it off as nothing, but even then...no, they couldn't be friends in the end. She loved him and, now that all the cards were laid out on the table, she had nothing left to lose. "Fenris, come with me."
He shook his head. "I need to be alone, Hawke."
"No. Now – come with me." She held out her hand, her features carefully blank.
"Hawke –"
She grabbed his hand and turned, walking up the stairs that led to the rooms of the Hanged Man. No one had dared return to the tavern yet, however, still afraid for their lives considering the bloodbath that had just occurred inside its walls. Fine by her, she had her own plans and the emptier the tavern was, the better for her.
"Hawke what are you doing?"
Refusing to answer him, she dragged him into an empty room and slammed the door shut behind her. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the closed door, kissing him hard. His eyes widened, but when she slid her tongue across his lower lip, he groaned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his lean frame. After a moment, he lifted his head, eyes darkened and pupils dilated with lust. "Hawke...this is not..."
"Shhhh." She pressed a finger to his lips to shush him. "I want to feel you, Fenris."
He groaned. "Hawke..."
Hawke chuckled softly. "Shut up and kiss me."
He sighed, although he smiled softly. Exasperated with her, he dropped his head and resumed their kiss. More gently this time however. She caressed her tongue over his, fingers sliding through the snowy white strands of his hair, holding him to her. Surely he would enjoy this more than returning to his abandoned manor to sulk and brood and drink.
When he lifted his head again, she bit her lip almost guiltily. While his careless words had made her angry, she didn't feel right leading him on like this. It was now or never.
"There is something I need to tell you," she started hesitantly, sliding her hands down toward his chest. Her eyes looked into his beseechingly, and suddenly she was afraid. It had always been so easy not to love because then she could never be hurt. Never be rejected.
"Hawke?" He caressed her cheek gently and she bit her lip, frustrated.
"Iinlovewithyou."
He blinked, clearly confused. "Perhaps you could repeat yourself...a little more slowly."
"I..." She blushed. "I'm in love with you, Fenris."
"You...love me?" His eyes widened almost comically. He disentangled himself from her and stepped away, raking his fingers through his hair. Hawke's heart plummeted. He looked panicked and she knew she had been right; he was going to run. "You...you said it was only sex, that you did not love me."
"That was then..." She shrugged her shoulders with a frown.
"You did not love me then but you love me now?" He paced the length of the room almost agitated. Why would her confession agitate him? It wasn't as if her loving him was a vile thing. Perhaps it was though. He could have sex with a mage but one loving him, well, that might have been crossing the line. He was very clear in his hatred of all things magic. Perhaps that really did include her.
"Aye. Is that such a bad thing, Fenris?" She wrung her hands in front of herself, biting her lip. She really didn't want an answer, fearing he would acknowledge her fears. Maker, this was all her fault. If she had just let him leave that first night...
"I am...unsure. Hawke, I have never known love. I have never loved another." He glanced away from her, anxious. "Perhaps we should stop this now before I...before I hurt you. This day...I cannot even begin to think of this, Hawke. I need to leave."
She didn't stand in his way and in seconds, she was left standing alone in the room where she had confessed to loving him.
The room where she experienced a broken heart for the very first time.
Hawke sat in front of the fire in her room, staring sightlessly into the flickering flames. Weeks had passed since the incident in the tavern with Danarius, since she had foolishly ruined the tenacious relationship between Fenris and herself. Absently, she rubbed her chest where her heart ached unmercifully. She had not spoken to Fenris since her ill-fated confession. Mortified, she could not go to him and he, he had not come to her.
It seemed as if they were at an impasse. People came and went, checking in on her, interrogating her, but Hawke just didn't feel like leaving the grounds of her estate and, after bearing company for as long as she was able, she would send them away and resume her pensive studying of the flickering orange and yellow flames. She couldn't bring herself to care. Not even when letters from Orsino begged for her attention, warning of the impending doom she felt covering the city of chains.
Before that day, at least she had cared, at least she'd had Fenris in some way rather than not at all. At least then she had been able to touch him, stroke him, caress him, kiss him, and please him. Now...now there was nothing. Just the empty silence of her house and the cold realization that he didn't love her and he wasn't coming back.
Tears stung her eyes. Frustrated, she withdrew into herself and tapped into the Fade, gathering her mana into her hand. Flames gathered, floating over her pale palm. She watched it for a moment, tears sliding down her cheeks before she threw it into the fire with a pained cry. The fireball fused with the fire, causing it to roar up high, burning the surrounding wall paper and bricks, before flickering back down to its initial intensity.
She dropped her face into her hand trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore her aching heart.
"Hawke?"
Oh joy to the Maker. Now she was hearing imaginary voices.
"Hawke." The voice prompted her again and, against her better judgment, she lifted her head and turned her soft blue gaze toward the doorway. Fenris.
Oh that was even better – hallucinating.
No, she couldn't be hallucinating. He wouldn't look so...haggard, if she were imagining him. He looked tired, as if sleep had been alluding him frequently. He wore nothing of his armor, just his clothes and even they looked unkempt. His hair was a mess, no doubt from him running his fingers through it on and off so many times throughout the weeks.
No matter how disheveled he appeared, he was still beautiful and her heart clenched in response to his presence in her room. How she had missed having him here. She clenched her fingers in the fabric of her robes covering her thighs, not trusting herself to breath, much less move, should she scare him away. He'd come to her, he'd come here; she would let him approach if that is what he desired.
"Why are you here?" She found herself asking, though her voice sounded weak and overused, no doubt from the crying and frustrated yells. Conscious of his analyzing stare, she cleared her throat.
"You are...unhappy to see me?" She must have have imagined the hurt she now saw creeping into his eyes. Why had he come here? To torture her some more? To make her broken heart fracture even further? Suddenly she almost resented his presence. He'd hurt her enough, hadn't he?
She couldn't find it in herself to lie to him. "I'm not. I am just...surprised to see you is all."
"I have been...thinking."
"I assumed as much." She shrugged her shoulders and wiped at her eyes, recalling that he had come upon her while she'd been crying.
"You are upset?" He looked uncomfortable and paced into the room, coming to stand only a few feet away from her. His green gaze assessed her carefully, looking for something, and she had to wonder if he'd found it when he sighed softly. "It is because of me, I presume."
"You could say that," she shrugged again.
He knelt down beside her chair, raking his hands through his hair. Then he gave a frustrated groan and took her hand, placing it to where his heart was hammering within his chest. "I've missed you, Hawke. I...I couldn't get you out of my thoughts. Whenever I managed to sleep, I dreamed of you. I regret how I left things a few weeks ago. I regret hurting you."
She curled her fingers into the material of his vest, her heart thundering loudly in her ears. "Fenris?"
He frowned, his expression pained. "It wasn't until I was alone that I realized how much I need you, Hawke. I was...afraid, to come to you. I was rash before and I thought I'd ruined everything." His eyes bored into hers and she felt her own tear up; it was official. She'd either lost it completely or she was lost in the most painfully bittersweet dream. "Have I ruined things between us, or can it go back to the way it was before?"
Her heart lurched painfully; he wanted to go back to the way it was – as in, fuck buddies. Suddenly the dream wasn't so pleasant and the pain was all too real. "No!" She shouted the word and pushed him away, folding her arms around herself. "It cannot go back to the way it was Fenris because I hated it!"
He followed her cautiously, resting his hands on her shoulders even though the action made her flinch. "Hawke, I know you did not hate it."
"To the Void with you!" She shrugged out from beneath his hands and turned to face him, glaring at him through eyes that were stubbornly tearing up despite her insistence that they remain dry. "You are the most frustrating, sexy, confusing, confounding, beautiful pain in my ass!"
"And?"
"And?...AND? And, may I forever rot in the Void for it, I love you!" She nearly screamed the words at him, her chest falling and rising rapidly once the outburst was finished. He didn't seem phased. In fact, he looked pleased.
"The feeling is mutual, Hawke."
"It is?" She gasped.
"Aye – you are very much a pain in my ass." When she reached out to smack him, he caught her hand in his and yanked her hard so that she fell against his lean frame. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pressed his lips to her ear. "And I love you," he whispered. "I was a fool not to realize it sooner."
She shuddered and wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to keep herself from crying. He kissed away her tears and then, very gently, he kissed her lips. It didn't stay gentle for long. Suddenly his hands were in her hair and he was wrenching her head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth and conquering it masterfully. He moved them steadily back toward the bed, ripping the fabric of her robe as they went until it fell from her to pool upon the floor. His lips parted on a sharp intake of breath when he realized she was naked. Growling, he gave her a light shove and she tumbled back onto the bed spread, panting with need. She felt like a virgin, and perhaps in a way she was; they weren't having sex, they were coming together as two people who loved each other.
"Beautiful," he mumbled beneath his breath, the awed look in his eyes making her wet. He'd always enjoyed looking at her, but it felt so much more intimate now than it had before.
"Clothes. Off. Now."
He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"
"Clothes. Off." She sat up and ripped open his vest, busting the snaps that held it shut. He groaned and helped her take it from his chest, before they both attacked the ties of his breeches, her hands impatiently tugging the material down his thighs. He hopped from foot to foot as he worked them free from his feet and she licked her lips at the sight of him in nothing but his small clothes.
"Small clothes," she bit out, nipping at his hip as he hissed in pleasure.
In her opinion he was taking too long. She grabbed the small clothes and ripped them free of his pelvis, freeing his impressive length. He was already so hard and she licked her lips, pressing a kiss to the head of it. He hissed in pleasure and slid his fingers into her hair, gripping her scalp tightly. She wrapped her lips around him, reaching her hands around to his firm buttock, gripping them tightly as she first slid down his length and then back up. She chanced a glance up at his face, moaning around his shaft at the look of pure pleasure etched into his features.
So sexy...and mine. He's mine.
The thought was thrilling in itself. Fenris loved her and she loved him; they belonged to each other. She shuddered and sucked him strongly until he could take it no longer, pulling her from him and tossing her onto the bed. She squealed with laughter as he followed, wrestling and rolling with her until she came to a rest beneath him, wrists pinned above her head with his hand.
He kissed her hard until they were both panting, his thigh wedging between her legs to rub insistently at her nethers, caressing her clitoris in just the right way that she was nearly incoherent with pleasure. He pushed her to the brink this way and she cried out, her orgasm washing over her like a cleansing. Ah, Maker, this was how it was supposed to be. This is what had been missing.
"Stop teasing," Hawke gasped. "I need you now, Fenris!"
"And you'll have me, Hawke," he promised fiercely. Then he was between her legs, pressing himself inside of her with one fierce and swift thrust. They both gasped, groaning loudly at the feeling of being joined so intimately. Where as they'd done this a few weeks ago, it had felt like years, and it had never felt like this.
"Yes, Fenris! Please move!"
He gripped her hips tightly in his hands, nearly bruising her flesh in his intensity, as he pulled himself free only to slide right back home into her sweet, hot, welcoming depths. Again and again, he stroked her inside and out, mouth finding her nipples and tormenting them with lips, teeth, and tongue. She couldn't even keep her thoughts straight; it was all about sensations. The feeling of him filling her, stretching her, touching her so deeply that each thrust hit that spot that made her toes curl in pleasure. It wasn't long before she was throwing her head back and screaming with pleasure, her release washing over so intensely she feared she might faint.
He rolled over and pulled her astride his hips. She pressed her hands to his chest and held on for dear life as she began to lift and drop her hips as she rode him. Her head fell back, breasts thrust forward and his hands found the luscious mounds to caress and tease them as they moved together until she lost the ability. Then he rolled them again, thrusting into her fast and hard, then harder, until she was flying free again, another release that left her nearly lifeless, pleasantly sated and tingly. He groaned and gripped her bottom tightly, thrusting a few last frantic times before he spilled himself within her, branding her hotly in the most intimate fashion.
They fell together in a mess of sweaty bodies and limbs. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the frantic beat of his heart while they tried to catch their breaths.
"I love you," she whispered breathlessly.
"I love you too," he mumbled almost petulantly as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. "But you best recover soon – I'm not finished with you yet."
She wouldn't have it any other way.
"We have to leave," Hawke mumbled absently as she stared at the destruction of the city of chains. Kirkwall had just been ground zero for a war between the mage circle and the temple order. After being forced to chose sides, kill Anders, and kill both Orsino and Meredith, Hawke was bone tired. Even more because, well, she was pregnant. Anders had just told her the day before. His last gift, he'd said. Then he'd gone and blown up the Chantry, killing the Grand Cleric and inciting war.
"Leave?" Fenris' gazed at her, confused. "This is your home, you said this yourself."
"It isn't safe."
"You are more than capable of protecting yourself, Hawke." He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her messy curls. "And even if you weren't, I am here. My sword is yours for as long as you want it."
"Always, Fenris." She kissed him softly, but then stepped back, her gaze determined. "But we can't stay."
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You're keeping something from me...?" She nodded and bit her lip. "What is it, Hawke? You know I am yours. You can tell me to go, if that is your desire." He muttered the words and frowned tightly. For the Maker's sake; he thought she was leaving him!
"You foolish elf." She chuckled and grasped his hand, pressing it to her abdomen. And then, she told him, in the midst of a destroyed city, that he was going to be a father. Despite all the violence, all the pain, and all the troubles the day had brought, she had never seen such a happy smile on his handsome face than in that moment.
Leaving wouldn't be so bad. She had Fenris, after all, and in eight or so months, they'd have a child.
In the end, everything seemed to have worked out perfectly for two companions with chemistry.
