Nightcap
Later that evening, as she lay spooned against Anders, watching the embers in the fireplace crumble to dark orange and black, Hawke sighed in contentment. She turned her head and kissed the mage gently, but thoroughly.
"Thank you for telling me about Varric, Anders. He was convinced that brotherly betrayal was a dwarven curse of some sort. All I had to do to set him straight was remind him about Sebastian's wonderful home life - such as it was. And then, of course, there was Carver."
She hesitated for a moment, then continued in a low voice. "I feel rotten admitting it, but sometimes I'm almost grateful that he died when he did. A terrible part of me just can't help but wonder - if he had survived, and made it here to Kirkwall with the rest of us - what's to say he wouldn't have turned on Bethany or me?"
Anders was silent for a while, but he tightened his arms around her. "I can't really speak to that, Hawke," he said quietly. "I don't remember my family clearly enough to know whether or not I was close with my siblings. And while I've been betrayed before - it was by frightened peasants bullied into it by templar hunters - not by a... not a family member pushed by jealousy. For the first time, I guess I can consider myself lucky that I was always alone while I was at Kinloch - that I'd never really had anybody I could trust," he finished in a harsh whisper.
"I never apologized to you for what I said about Karl that night, did I?" Hawke said abruptly, realizing what he had almost said. "I didn't know about the rite and the brand then - that's something we'd never encountered in Lothering, and father never mentioned the Tranquil to me. Bethany explained to me later that night that Karl had no choice, but in that first instant, all I could feel was how shocked and horrified you were, and I thought he had set you up."
The mage rose on one elbow and stroked his free hand along her side down to the curve of her hip, exerting a gentle pull to roll her onto her back. He turned his face away for a moment, struggling with the old uncertainty and guilt - feeling it trying to take hold again - but finally he gazed straight at her with haunted eyes, even as he kept stroking her leg, taking comfort from the contact.
"You only said out loud what I was thinking, Hawke. After all we'd been through at Kinloch and all his letters to me - I couldn't believe that Karl was alive and Tranquil. I've told you I would kill myself - I would kill anybody - if they tried to make me Tranquil. But Karl... he submitted, he gave up."
Anders shuddered violently, and his hand was motionless on her hip. "I won't lie. Even though I still loved him, I was glad when you told me to end it for him. When he offered me up to the templars, I hated him, Hawke," he admitted in a choked voice, and dropped his head to nuzzle almost desperately at the side of her neck, breath hitching unevenly as he struggled against tears.
As it always did, the sensation of Anders' lips and breath against her throat brought Hawke almost to the point of orgasm, and she struggled to keep her tone even as she tried to reassure her lover. "Maybe he didn't give up, Anders," she whispered, combing the fingers of one hand through his hair, loosened from its customary tie.
"Maybe that bastard Alrik had his thugs grab Karl while he was asleep. Remember, nobody knows exactly how the rite is done; hopefully Karl was unconscious, or drugged, when they made him Tranquil. Given Alrik's penchant for abusing the helpless ..."
She could tell the mage was listening, because his breathing began to slow, and his hand started to move tentatively along the curve of her hip again. "Either way, at the end, he was Karl again, because of you, and you granted him the mercy he asked for," she finished, gasping as his hand moved decisively inward across the top of her thigh and pulled gently, insistently at her leg.
With a purring sound, Hawke spread her legs further apart so he could roll his body to lie between them. She could feel his hardening length twitching against her inner thigh as she ran one foot up along his calf until she could wrap her leg across his narrow hips and pull him tightly against her. She stroked her hands slowly down his back to his waist, then dug into his flanks with her nails, teetering on the edge of release.
"I love you so much, Hawke," the mage whispered fervently. "You always find some way to make it not my fault." Delicately, he suckled on her ear lobe then ghosted a breath across it, before flicking it with his tongue and teasing her with a few gentle bites. When her back arched as she started to come, he was ready and slid smoothly into her, growling deep in his throat as she tightened and spasmed around his cock.
With Hawke's leg and hands holding him so tightly against her, Anders couldn't really thrust, but he was content to roll and grind his hips against her, feeling himself getting harder with each passing second.
Within moments, her whimpering gasps let him know that she was very close again. Abruptly, Hawke slipped her leg off his hips and thrust her arms down against the bed, using the leverage to arch her hips to press up against him as hard as she could.
Anders began to plunge into her without restraint, relishing the feeling of her, the way her face was so flushed with arousal - everything about her, allowing himself to enjoy the moment as he had never dared do with any other lover. With the added sensation from the new angle, Hawke started turning her head from side to side, eyes tightly shut and panting his name with every breath.
With an almost predatory grin, Anders focused the merest trickle of lightning into his left hand. He gave a final thrust and stopped, pressed as deeply into Hawke as he could manage. Bracing himself on his right hand, the mage brushed the fingertips of his left hand across her breasts, up to the hollow at the base of her throat, then across her lips, leaving a tingling trail of stimulation in its wake.
With a keening cry, Hawke came again, pressing upwards against the length of his body before collapsing back on the bed, arms flung loosely across the sheets. He lowered himself fully onto her body, and cupped both hands along the sides of her face so he could kiss her deeply, tasting the last flickers of his power on her lips and tongue.
Slowly, her breathing evened, and eventually Hawke's eyes opened, staring into his own. He felt her lips curve into a smile against his mouth as she chuckled. When he broke the kiss, she whispered, "Pesky mage with your tricks. How am I supposed to compete with that?"
Moving carefully to maintain their connection, Anders rolled to one side and then over onto his back, steadying her body with his arms until she was lying astride him. "I'm sure you'll think of someth..." he began, and gasped as she clenched along his length - swiveling her hips slightly to one side and back - then began a gentle rocking motion, back and forth.
"I think I already have," she purred, and smiled down at him with a wicked light in her eyes. "I'm going to take my time with you tonight. I've been learning so many new things..."
