Her home. Was that what she was supposed to call it? It felt so strange. First Lothering, then Gamlen's house. How could those places have been more of a home than this place? She took a moment to look around the foreign room. On one side a roaring fireplace, and on the other a doorway into the study. A staircase led up to her room, as well as her mother's. Hawke couldn't help but feel guilty. It was a room for each of them and it was wonderful, but if Carver hadn't decided to join the templars she didn't know where he'd be saying. She felt a little old to be sharing a room with her brother, after all.
It was empty. Dark, and late. Her mother was still out speaking with Gamlen. She hoped that they were being looked after, but suspected that her uncle was being difficult. She doubted that it was otherwise. Gamlen didn't understand how to be anything but what he was. She kicked off her shoes by the door and stepped in, feeling the heat from the dying fire. Reaching over for some of the firewood, she threw a pair of logs on and watched as the flames began to slowly spread.
"I need to hire someone to look after this place," she sighed, looking from the ash on the floor to the piles of possessions that had yet to be really sorted or put away. The only place she'd even started was in the bedroom, and other than the sheet and a few pillows and blankets, it wasn't anything special. She slowly scaled the stairs and as she came to the top of the balcony looking out over the room below, breathing in the change. So much change. She didn't know where to even begin with it all. She wanted to sleep for a week, and yet the moment she lay down she was up again. Darkspawn. Just like the first few weeks after arriving in Kirkwall, chased by the dark, malicious shapes with their bloodied mouths.
She turned back, passing the Amell family crest they'd found in the basement and entering her room. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, looking across the barren room. The only other occupant was the bed on the other side. She sighed and lethargically pulled her hands up to pull the buttons of her shirt loose, popping them loose and shedding herself of her shirt quickly. The effect was almost immediate as her skin was exposed to the air, and she quickly rid herself of the rest of her restrictive garments. She wasn't subjected to the cold for long, rushing for the warmth of the bed and wrapping herself in the blankets as she thought on about the day.
Her head barely touched the pillows when she heard it. A rustling sound. A rummaging sound? She wasn't sure and swung back up, her eyes fixed on the door ahead. There was silence for a moment and she wondered whether she'd imagined it, but a door closed loudly and she pulled herself out of bed. A robe hung from the wall nearby and she slung it on, creeping quickly towards the door and cracking it open slightly.
"Mother?" she asked, glancing back and forth at the small amount of the room outside that she could see. There was no response. The crackling of the fire was distant, and she cleared her throat before speaking again, louder this time. "Mother?" Still nothing. She frowned, pushing the door open further. Maybe she was in the study? It was impossible to tell how well sound traveled in this room, and she stepped out into the open area, closing the door behind her and looking out over the balcony carefully. There was nothing stirring down there, and she looked from side to side suspiciously. She called out again, but silence answered her a third time.
Maybe it was nothing. She didn't hear anything now, and there was no sign of anything being disturbed. She brushed her hand through her hair slightly, shaking her head and trying to dismiss her thoughts. She was tired. All of this ridiculousness in Kirkwall as getting to her. She just needed to… relax. A feeling of exhaustion filled her and she pushed her hands against her eyes, feeling the impulse to just… let out a cry, and give up, but she knew that wasn't an option. Tomorrow she would be back out there, with Varric, and Aveline, and everyone else, trying to fix all the wrongs that had been inflicted upon the people of the city. Coterie. Mage. Templar. Whatever it was, she'd find the strength to fix it somewhere. Somehow. She tightened her hands into fists and took in an invigorating breath, but it didn't fill her with energy. She was exhausted, and turned back to her room.
She moved quickly back, stepping through the open door and quickly discarding her robe, throwing it over the edge of her bed with a sigh. She was about to turn and close the door and get back to bed when something occurred to her, and she paused in fright. Hadn't she… closed the door? Her eyes turned slowly, but she heard the door slam closed long before they looked. The room seemed darker, and she took in a shaky breath.
"Who…? Who's there?" There was no answer. Just large, heavy steps that approached her. She spun suddenly and her immediate suspicion was confirmed. The massive frame of the Arishok stared down at her, regarding her coldly. She staggered backwards and he followed.
"You," he breathed, his breath passing over her like a morning fog.
"What are you doing here? Get out!" she demanded, wishing she had something to throw at him. In her naked state she could barely think, and a hand reached back to grasp for her robe, but before she could take it she felt herself being seized by the other arm and dragged back. She fought, beating her fist against his thick, scaly skin, and in an instant had taken hold of her with his other hand, grabbing her at the neck.
A sliver of fear pulsed down her spine and she gripped his hand as it latched onto her throat, trying to pull herself loose to no avail. With a sudden thud she felt herself hit the wall and he was there, looming over her. Slowly her feet lost their contact with the ground and they dangled, her eyes at the same level as the Arishok's as he leaned in to watch her. She lashed out with a leg, but she struck hard muscle and didn't even seem to make a dent in him. She tried again, but as he stood there, unafflicted, and yet no longer progressing, she fell still. Her legs simply swayed, trying to find some way of reaching the ground, and her hands persisted in trying to pull herself up to avoid choking.
"You spoke Qunlat to me, Hawke," he addressed. "Do you know what that means?"
"Fenris did too!" she argued, gasping a little as his voice seemed to reverberate through her entire body. "Why aren't you going after him?"
"The elf is inconsequential," the Arishok said simply. "You are something very different."
"Why are you here?" she whispered, fearing the answer. What was this? An attack? A warning? Was he here to try and force her to accept the Qun? Had she insulted him, or killed Qunari that he considered too valuable to lose? She didn't know, and though she felt the magic at her fingertips, she felt no impulse to use it. There was something in his eyes that told her that she… deserved what he promised.
"The Qun demands that I come here," he answered. "You have taunted me, Hawke."
"Taunted you?" she frowned. "I have only the utmost respect for you!"
"Your body," he breathed, a low, mountainous growl. She froze, trying to press back into the wall, and attempting to cover her nakedness "You arrive in the compound, and your body is there. It sways. It saunters. You kneel before me, and you turn your back to me, and I am left only able to observe as you are within reach, and yet so far from me."
"I… I was not intending on causing such a reaction, Arishok," she stammered. "Please, forgive me if I… offended."
"You would do well not to offend me, Hawke." The reference to her name startled her, and he leaned in a little closer. "I simply intend to make these facts known to you."
"And you needed to be in my bedroom to make them known to me?" she asked, trying to laugh but finding it hard. His free hand drifted forwards and she almost released a sound as he touched her stomach with his fingertips.
"A taunt to an Arishok is a serious matter," he murmured. She felt her skin tighten and her breath stolen away as his small touch persisted, and as it moved she felt paralyzed by the sensation of it stroking against her. His fingers descended, sliding to the side, and he stepped slightly closer as his hand slid down the side of her leg. It twitched, and she felt for a moment that she saw his eyes flash at the small movement.
"Please, let me go, Arishok," she asked, looking to him pleadingly.
"You are an incredible woman, Hawke," he said, and she felt no less of a shock than the first time he said her name. "Strong. Courageous. Beautiful. These are all traits admired in the Qun. I am drawn to you." He leaned forward slightly, his mouth inches from her skin as he inhaled slowly, and a coldness struck her skin as he did so. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and quiet. "I would have you, if you would permit it."
"Permit it?" she asked. He couldn't honestly be asking her that, could he? "Permit what? For you to run off with me into the hills?"
"Perhaps, once I am free to depart," he suggested. "Or for the night." The words caused her to swallow hard and a thousand thoughts seemed to swarm about her head, all impossible to read as a haze of dizziness clouded them. Her arms and legs trembled, simultaneously hot from a blush and cold from the air, and the leg beneath his fingertips seemed to move the most, quaking beneath his warm, strong hand.
"I… I don't know," she answered quietly, feeling trapped between two impossible decisions. He was asking her to choose something she couldn't possible choose. Or… was he? As his hand stroked back up she felt a tenseness in her stomach. The feeling of something rolling about in there, and whatever else she was going to say was lost in a breathy exhale and a hitched whimper.
"Let me convince you," he suggested. She didn't have the time or even the presence of mind to resist, feeling the shift of muscle and grip as he leaned forwards. His mouth was upon hers in an instant, pushing her back against the wall. She fought for a moment, but it only seemed to make his lips move harder, and as she realized what was happening her body gave way and melted like butter. Her hands hung limply from his arm, her eyes fluttering shut as he worked her over and over with his lips, and her fingers trembled as one thrilling rush was followed by another.
The hand against her leg twitched and she unwittingly uttered a small noise of pleasure. A groan which passed into the kiss, and as he receded she felt herself following for a few inches before realizing that he was looking at her. Her eyes opened slowly, barely daring to look at him as the rushing rivers of want and desire ran through her body. He was here, in her home, demanding her to give herself to him, and she could think of no reason to deny him. Her fingers slowly pushed their way along his arms, and as she brought her breathing back under control she found the strength and control needed to look at him fully.
"Ask me again, Arishok," she whispered.
"Hawke," he returned, leaning forwards a little. "Will you give yourself to me tonight?"
"On one condition."
"Name it."
"If I give myself to you tonight, don't let me go until the night is over." His lips surged into her and seized her mouth again, assaulting her and conquering her body in a single, simple motion. She gasped and moaned back into his kisses, but they were brief. It was all the answer she needed, and she nodded slowly as she tried to regain her breath. "Yes," she answered, her mouth leaning forwards, yearning for his. "Yes! Damn it, Arishok, just take me. Make me yours." His mouth returned to her and she snatched her hands up, grabbing whatever she could. One found a horn, the other his hair, and each held on tightly as she returned the intensity of his passion with her own. She didn't hold back, and as his hand ascended past her stomach she returned every sensation. She repaid her desire, her cravings, and it was not until the fingers brushed across her breast that she threw her head backwards and gasped.
He didn't miss a beat. His fingers strummed across the delicate, sensitive flesh at her chest like a harp, and his mouth descended upon what exposed neck she presented, pushing her back into the wall as she found her words lost to carnal moans and lecherous groans. Her hands tightened further, pulling him against her, willing him on. She wanted more, and her legs continued to hang, rubbing back and forth against one another as her hips twisted and ached for attention. Each touch of his fingers felt as though it was amplified a thousand times and shot through her body like a lightning bolt, setting her on fire.
"More," she whispered, her eyes falling closed again as she abandoned herself to him, offering herself and refusing to fight. His fingers hesitated for a moment before beginning their long, slow descent, and she whined at first, instantly wanting the touches back. As he passed her stomach, however, that changed to very different sounds as he ventured very close, and yet not close enough. His hand drew down her thigh, then wrapped around her leg and very slowly pulled it up. He seized her by the ankle, drawing the leg higher and higher. She felt herself stretch, sure she was not built for this, but he all-too-easily seemed to bring her leg up and pinned it to the wall next to her head, and she looked over, feeling herself exposed and vulnerable before him. Her free leg tensed and moved slightly, and as his body moved in closer she felt almost a pain move through her as he did not immediately move against her.
Instead she felt herself subjected to the hot, hard mass that was pressed against her lower stomach, and she shuddered and shivered as she felt it press against her. She shifted her free leg, drawing it up and along his leg, and reached down with one hand slowly, even nervously. She waited for some indication from him, but his lips were busy continuing to work against her neck, though a moment later they switched over and slowly drew their way up the back of the leg he held pinned against the wall. She seized the breath and the moment, reaching down slightly further and felt him there suddenly, pressed into her hand. Her fingers wrapped around, trying to touch the thumb as she gauged his size, but he was too thick and she simply found herself squeezing him and inciting small sounds from him. She smirked and made soft sounds in response, running her fingers down and then back up, slowly and steadily.
It worked, or she at least felt it did. His mouth returned to hers, at least. She immersed herself into his touches, matching the rhythms of his lips with her hand, but all too soon the burning need overtook her and she knew she couldn't stand it another second without exploding. Her free leg lifted slightly and pressed itself open, inviting, and she guided him with her hand, lining him up with her and trying to urge him to move forwards. He did, and with the first thrust she felt herself lose control of her body for an instant as every muscle seemed to freeze and tense, and she uttered a noise she could neither remember nor recreate.
He filled her. He more than filled her, she felt, but it was hard to truly test that as her mind seemed suddenly filled with shimmering stars. She whispered her pleasured gasp, and as she did he withdrew, only to plunge back into her with the same intensity. She elicited another sound, and it seemed to drive him to penetrate her once more. Every time he seemed to swell within her more and more and she audibly made her astonishment known, and every time she did he thrust into her, pounding her against the wall. Her hands were behind his head once again, pulling him to her as she continued to utter her gratification, and her free leg wrapped around him as best it could, seeking to draw him even closer. She wondered whether the wall might give way beneath the sheer intensity of his thrusts, but realized she didn't care. If it did, he could throw her to the ground and have her there, and if the ground fell away she would climb atop him and do the work herself.
Faster and faster, his hips slammed against hers, his mouth swept across her skin, and he held her tightly as though afraid to let her go. She moaned and writhed, begged for more, whispered his name and called it out to anyone who might hear. The swirling sensation within her stomach slowly began to engulf her, obscuring her senses as she found herself lost in the haze of ecstasy, and she rode it out, or rather, allowed him to ride her out to it. She reached the edge with needy, desperate gasps and tears in her eyes, and fell over with a scream and the tightening of her entire body around him, and still he persisted, pressing into her with renewed vigour as she was overwhelmed and swept away, and as he ground to a stop she felt a warm liquid slowly descend the thigh of her now-limp leg.
"Oh, Arishok…" she sighed, tightening her arms around him. He was warm, and she nuzzled against his soft, velvety skin, stretching her legs and spreading across the floor with him. She opened her eyes, blinking softly as she found herself not against the wall, but laid out upon the floor of the house. The empty bedroom, lacking even the bed, was just barely illuminated, and there was no sign of anyone. The distant sound of the crackling fire was on the other side of the door, and she rolled onto her back as she struggled to come to terms with the dream. How could it have been a dream? How? That wasn't… It wasn't fair!
She allowed her hand to slip down beneath the blankets, curling between her legs as she felt the wetness there, and she squeezed her eyes closed, holding onto the memories and sensations of the dream as they tried to escape her, her fingers seeking to emulate him in every way she could.
