Merrill burst into sobs when Carver stormed out and was folded into Hawke's arms, Isabela coming behind the two small women and wrapping them up in her arms as well. "There, there kitten." Isabela crooned, playing with one of Merrill's braids. "Sometimes men just feel the need to shout."
"Maker, Merrill. A Grey Warden, to stay and put up with Carver? What awful thing are you trying to make up for?" Hawke tried to tease with a small smile.
"But Hawke, I think he loves me." Merrill looked up with green eyes shining with wetness.
"Course he does, Kitten. You're very lovable." Isabela soothed.
"But it isn't up to him! It's up to you." Merrill wiped her face with the back of her hand and broke away from both Hawke and Isabela, tossing her head back with fierce defiance and making eye contact with the Warden Commander. Chantal very studiously avoided looking up at Merrill, eying the smoking carpet instead.
"I'm sure Warden Hawke explained all the reasons you shouldn't do this." She said quietly, peeking up through her brown waves. Fenris caught sight of Zevran's shoulders slump just for a moment, heard Alistair's sigh.
"But it isn't just that, is it?" Merrill challenged. "You saved the world! You keep people safe, you have a clan here. It's… vhenas. Home."
"She has a point there, Chantal." Alistair agreed happily.
"I disagree. I have drank many things in my life, but darkspawn blood is not one I choose to imbibe. You could die, my pretty elf friend, sooner rather than later." Zevran pointed out darkly.
"But it is my choice." Merrill protested. "Lethallan, tell them it is my choice." Merrill directed her pleading gaze to Hawke.
"She's right. It is is her choice. But there's no need to rush this, Merrill." Chantal said gently. "I'd have you take a night's rest and truly consider everything Carver has told you. If this is still what you want tomorrow morning, of course I'll help you."
"Ma serannas." Merrill gave a small half-curtsy, holding her hands out to her side. She nodded, holding her jaw tightly before nimbly spinning away and heading out the door.
"I don't think she'll change her mind." Fenris observed. "That's the same expression she had when she smashed that damned mirror."
"Perhaps, but I'll rest easier knowing she's slept on it." Chantal remarked.
"I'd rest easier if someone announced their intentions before raining lighting bolts from the ceiling." Fenris challenged, raising an eyebrow at the small woman. She burst into laughter.
"It loses the effect if you announce it, but I am sorry for frightening you. Here!" She turned to the cabinet by her desk and pulled it open, selecting a dark red bottle and holding it out sheepishly.
"I was not frightened! It is merely irritating." Fenris eyed the label on the bottle, before taking the gift.
"You knew it would happen before it did." Alistair mused, eying Fenris with a warrior's appreciation. "I mean, so did I, but I've fought with Chantal. She always scrunches up her eyes when she summons lighting."
"I do not." Chantal protested.
"She twitches her nose for a fireball. It is remarkably endearing." Zevran smirked, kissing the Grey Warden's cheek as she blushed.
"Maker, I will make you two bunk together!" She threatened.
Alistair had least had the grace to look properly chastened. Zevran just continued to smirk suggestively. "I meant, that it was impressive." Alistair muttered darkly.
"Thank you." Fenris tried to keep the annoyance from his voice.
"Would be very helpful fighting slavers." Alistair remarked and Chantal groaned. Fenris turned and eyed Hawke, hoping he was providing the appropriate signal with his eyes that it was time to go. Hawke picked up the message, standing and stretching.
"We'll consider what you said." Hawke promised.
"Do it over that wine, Chantal always has the best." Alistair sounded quite appreciative.
"Let them go, Ali." Chantal chided. "I'll open a bottle for you too, we want to catch up with you and we have some things to talk about…"
"A less precious bottle, mi amor." Fenris heard Zevran begin as their group began to depart. "We don't waste the good stuff, si?"
"Funny, that's what I told Chantal when she married you." Alistair griped as Varric shut the door.
"Maker, those three." Varric shook his head. "They sound like us."
"Someone has to go talk to Carver and Merrill." Isabela sighed. "We need to talk Kitten out of this or talk little Hawke into it."
"Well, you're an expert at talking people out of things, Rivaini."
"I'm an expert at talking people out of their pants, Varric. But, I can try. Hawke, can you try with your brother?"
Hawke snorted. "I'm the worst person to talk to him, Isabela. He still disagrees with anything I suggest on principle."
"I'll handle Junior." Varric offered. "Guess that leaves you two on your own." He cast a meaningful gaze at Fenris.
"Don't act like we've gotten off easy." Hawke teased, pointing to the bottle of wine Fenris was holding. "Someone has to drink this, we've valiantly volunteered."
"Lucky bitch, you have a handsome elf, bottle of wine, bed big enough for three…" Isabela trailed off suggestively.
"No." Fenris interjected immediately. Isabela sighed theatrically and sauntered off, Varric behind her smirking. .
"Varric seemed very invested in giving us alone time." Hawke remarked carefully. "What were you two up to this morning?"
Fenris felt his stomach tighten in anticipation as he took her arm, guiding her down the stairs from the Warden's fine apartments and back to their guest quarters. "I will tell you, but not here." He answered evasively.
"Mysterious." Hawke commented lightly, her voice teasing. "Is it naughty too? Those are my favorite kind of secrets."
Fenris smirked and opened their bedroom door, holding it gallantly for Hawke as she untied her cloak. Fenris opened one of the desk drawers, looking for something to open the wine bottle. Hawke settled herself near the fireplace and added new logs to the grate. When she'd stacked them nicely, she dragged her finger down the logs and they caught fire with a cheerful crackling. Hawke had a tiny, self satisfied smile as she jumped on the edge of the bed, unlacing her boots.
Fenris found a corkscrew and opened the bottle with a flourish, sniffing the wine and savoring the heady aroma.
"We didn't get glasses." Fenris frowned, looking around the room.
"That hasn't ever stopped us before, has it? It'll be just like old times." Hawke patted the bed beside her and Fenris smiled, sitting down and leaning against the headboard in the center of the bed. He stretched his legs out, feeling the warmth from the fire slowly seeping into the room. Hawke clambered up the bed, pausing silently on her knees before him and angling her head in a silent question. Fenris nodded and she straddled his lap, facing him with a grin.
She was fully clothed, but when she was like this Fenris had to stop his mind from wandering to the thought of peeling off her leather breeches and having her naked, wanton body on top of him for his admiration. He would do that, later, but first…
He took a steadying sip from the bottle, enjoying the flavor of dark chocolate and some sort of citrus. Hawke watched, patiently. "How is it?" She asked as Fenris took a second sip and held the bottle out to her.
"It is quite delicious. I believe that Zevran has remarkably good taste." He conceded.
"Quite a compliment coming from you!" Hawke's face turned playfully shocked before she took her own sip of the wine. "Mmmm… I like this more than anything we found in your old cellar."
"You prefer Antivan wine over the Tevinter vintages." Fenris remarked. "The Antivan tends to be sweeter."
"Don't let Zevran hear you say that." Hawke teased. Fenris couldn't help but let his hand reach up to the edge of her lips where a drop of wine lingered. He brushed it away and Hawke's lips opened under his touch. Fenris shoved down his immediate, animalistic reaction.
"You are so very beautiful." Her murmured, tracing his fingers down her swan's neck, over the linen shirt covering her tempting breasts. "The most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I thought that the first night I saw you."
"You did a very good job of hiding it." Hawke remarked wryly, handing the bottle back to him. Fenris took another, larger sip.
"I was… confused by the intensity of the feelings you stirred up. I was so immediately attracted to you, and you were a mage. I hated you, as well, but I owed you a debt. Then...I paid it, but by then…" Fenris sighed, letting his hand rest on her waist. "I had begun watching you so I'd be ready to strike when you became a threat. Then the debt was paid and I was convinced you were no threat, but I couldn't stop watching you."
There was the truth of it, plain and clear. He remembered the fear the first time he realized he was watching her because he wanted to see that long braid brush across her shoulders, or the special smile she reserved for her brother when he was on her nerves. He wanted to hear her laugh and kiss the soft curver of her lips. While he'd been watching for danger, his heart and soul had been lost to the tiny mage with the heart of gold and wicked sense of humor.
"I thought you'd never see me, only my magic." Hawke admitted, her own fingers brushing over his linen shirt. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I hated that you hated me."
"I see you now. All of you." He whispered. He saw the scars from battles barely won, the way she made everything better with a joke and a smile. Her magic was a part of her, a beautiful part. "I may never feel comfortable in the company of mages, but I trust you amata. If you are good, then other mages must be as well."
"Fenris!" Hawke giggled, her face a delightful shade of pink. She took the bottle from him and sipped it herself. "This must be some wine."
Fenris chuckled, sitting up and pulling her closer. He placed his forehead against hers and took the bottle from her hand, placing it on the nightstand. "I did something this morning that you may find foolish." He admitted sheepishly.
"I don't know if I could ever find anything you've done foolish." Hawke pondered, brushing her lips over his. "I will admit you're fanning my curiosity."
Fenris reached to his hip, to the pouch hanging from his belt and opened it. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he pulled out the wooden box. "I've bought you a ring." There was a lump in his throat now, an irrational fear scratching wildly in his mind.
This, this is where she would finally laugh at him. He had no fortune, no name, no skills beyond killing. Hawke, who was skilled at so much and more beautiful than Andraste herself, could find better. She had a noble name, a fortune of her own. She couldn't squander it on him, her elven lover. She would toss the box into the flames and rip out Fenris's heart as surely as if she had reached into his chest.
"Fenris…" She whispered, awed, leaning away from him to look at the wooden box between them.
"I know I have no name. I have nothing beyond myself and my sword." He whispered back. "But I will follow you into the void itself. I will remain at your side, always. I will have this future for us and make you happy, Reyna, I swear it."
"It isn't allowed." Hawke's hands were shaking and there were tears in her eyes as her fingers traced tentatively over the box. "I'm not allowed, Fenris, I'm a mage and an apostate. You'd be tying yourself to a criminal. If they found out, you'd have committed a crime as well."
"Fasta vass, I'm already committing a crime by staying with you, aren't I?" Fenris growled. "I've been committing this crime for six years."
Hawke laughed, but it wasn't the cruel sound his mind had supplied (honestly, he'd never heard Hawke's laughter turn cruel like Danarius's had). It sounded like it was choked with sobs, but it was bright and clear. She met his eyes and there were tears there.
"May I see it?" She asked. Fenris nodded, flipping over the lid of the box. Nestled inside on silk fabric was the ring, golden and perfect. Hawke reached out, tracing her hands over the wolf's head and smiling softly.
"Are you saying yes?" Fenris asked desperately, he needed to hear it. If he didn't hear it, this could be a dream. He could be misunderstanding this ritual.
"You haven't asked properly. You have to ask the question." She pressed, smiling. "Then you have to put the ring on my hand when I say yes."
"Which finger?" He asked, taking Hawke's small hand in his own. She wiggled the finger nearest her pinky on her left hand and Fenris brought the hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles.
"Reyna Hawke, will you marry me?" He asked softly, he could hear his own heart pounding in his chest, feel her pulse under his hands. Her blue eyes burned brightly and Reyna leaned into him, her lips against his.
"Yes." She whispered against his mouth. "Yes, my love."
Fenris pulled back to slip the band over her knuckle, onto her finger. It fit perfectly and she smiled, delighted. Fenris admired the gold and red on her delicate hand. She giggled. "How much did this cost? Is that why Varric had to run off with you this morning? Carver and Merrill were so confused."
"I was concerned about how much coin I spent." He admitted. "But Varric was pleased with it."
"Oh, I'm sure. He wins the bet now with just shy of two weeks left. He promised me half if he won." Hawke grinned.
"Isabela promised me half is she won, so we were fine either way." Hawke's cheerful laugh was contagious and he chuckled as well, before she grasped his face in her hands, gently and softly stroking his cheekbones. She leaned in and kissed him again, full of longing and promise. Fenris wrapped his arms around her, his Hawke.
"You can have my name." Hawke was tugging off her linen shirt, revealing her stomach and breasts bound by the stiff bustier. He tugged at the laces behind her back, desperate to see her, hold her.
"I'd wear it with honor." He gasped as her hips rolled, rubbing against his hardening length through their pants. She was wearing entirely too much clothing and he couldn't bear it. He finally caught the laces and pulled them free slowly, watching as her breasts were freed like unwrapping a long awaited gift. He tossed the offending garment on the ground as she tugged on his own cotton tunic. He disentangled himself from her long enough to allow her to pull it off before he was on her lips again, biting her bottom lip and making her cry out in delicious, pure need. Her hips wriggled under his hands as he pulled down the thin leather and her small until they got stuck on her spread thighs. She obligingly assisted, lifting one leg, then the other, for him to continue removing the garment. Then she was as gloriously naked as he'd wanted her. His hands cupped her pert ass and pulled her, skin to skin, to him. His lyrium marks tingled as they touched her, feeling her mana and reacting in a way that made him almost dizzy with pleasure. Once, there had only been pain, but now there was Hawke and her hands only healed his broken, jagged pieces.
"I love you." She whispered against his lips, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Maker, Fenris, I love you."
"Stay with me." Fenris pleaded as she rubbed against his aching need. "Forever. Stay with me."
"Always." She whispered, her hands gently pushing him back. He allowed himself to settle on the pillows as she rose above him like a goddess, one of the Elven creators made flesh. She tugged impatiently at his pants and he assisted, raising his hips so she could pull them down and off. Her small hand wrapped around his cock and Fenris hissed his head falling back.
She let her fingers trail up and down his length gently, teasing, watching his reaction. Unbidden, his hips thrust into her fingers, groaning at the feel of her soft skin. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the head of his manhood and Fenris couldn't help his lips from forming her name.
"Do you want this?" She asked, continuing to stroke languidly. Maker, he shouldn't. How dare he force this goddess to kneel at his feet? But the thought of staring down into Hawke's beautiful blue eyes as his cock glided in and out of her mouth made all the nerves in his body light up. A stream of Tevene fell from his lips and Hawke waited patiently, continuing to stroke until Fenris could take it no longer. He swung up, positioning himself on the edge of the bed. Hawke grabbed a pillow and settled herself, kneeling, between his feet.
The sight alone was enough to make his cock jerk. She kissed in between the lyrium lines dancing up his thighs, looking up at him again through her thick lashes. "You'll stop me, if you need to?" She asked. Fenris nodded, breathless, watching as her lips crept closer to his aching cock.
When she finally reached him and licked from his base the whole way down his shaft, Fenris nearly jumped. He groaned, his hands clutching the edge of the mattress. She raised her hand, the one with his ring, to rest on his thigh as she opened her mouth. Fenris was enraptured, watching his cock slide into her warm, waiting mouth. The feeling was indescribable, hot, wet, her tongue sliding around him. Then she hollowed out her cheeks and he felt suction and pressure. His hips jerked into her in response and Fenris froze. "Maker, Reyna, I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely. Reyna looked up at him wickedly, all blue eyes and pale skin and a small smattering of freckles over her nose, before pushing closer to him and letting his length slide further into her throat.
Fenris wouldn't be surprised if the whole keep heard him chanting her name as she began to bob up and down his length. His hands moved to her hair, tangling in the dark strands as she took his hard cock. Her breasts bounced, the hard nipples scraping deliciously against his legs and she hummed happily. Fenris could feel himself tightening, his breath labored. "Reyna, if you don't stop…" He sounded needy, desperate to his own ears. Instead of stopping, Reyna pulled his cock almost the whole way from her mouth before working him back in with a wicked gleam in her eye. Fenris was moving her head now, his grip in her hair tightening as he struggled not to take over, not to pound into her, but he was lost and his orgasm was building and he could feel her blue eyes on him as his seed began to spill into her mouth and she sucked it down greedily.
His hand fell uselessly from her air and he took great, shuddering gasps of air. She looked like the cat that had just gotten into the cream, preening and self satisfied. He reached for her, gathering her into his arms as she giggled softly, her hands tangling in his hair. He could feel her own hot wetness against him. "And how was that, my dear future husband?" She teased, nipping at his ear.
"A moment, and I'll show you." He promised and she laughed, pressing her lips to his. Fenris could taste himself on them, something metallic, possibly the lyrium. Then there was salt, a hint of the spindleweed he used to make sword polish. Beneath that, was Hawke. She was elfroot and honey and sweet rolls. And she was his.
They didn't make it to supper, but nobody came looking for them. Fenris suspected that was Varric's doing. They made love, then slept, then woke and made love again for falling back into sleep. He was awoken by Hawke's stomach growling late at night.
"We missed dinner." She complained fitfully.
"I offered to get you something, but you wouldn't let me leave the bed." Fenris assumed a haughty tone and Hawke rolled her eyes, smirking.
"I didn't hear you complaining then." She trailed her fingers down his chest. "Do you think we could sneak into the kitchens and get some cheese and bread from the pantry?"
"I'll do it, you stay here." Fenris pushed her back into the pillows. "I'd like to come back to you naked and waiting."
"As my Lord Husband commands." Hawke purred sultrily, burying under the sheet. Fenris couldn't help the bright smile that lit his features and Hawke sighed, smiling up at him.
"You look years younger tonight." She commented.
"I am very happy." Fenris admitted, holding her hand for a moment to his heart. "Happier than I ever dreamed."
"I hope I always make you this happy." Her stomach rumbled again and she laughed. "If I don't starve to death first."
"I'll be back soon, I promise." He let go of her hand and reached for his trousers on the ground and the linen shirt. Pulling them on, he made his way to the door and eased into the hallway. He had just reached the stairs when he paused, bewildered. There was a noise above him that he couldn't quite place, then a shrill cry. There was a pull of mana that he felt in his lyrium markings, then something shattered and something else slammed into the ground. Instead of going down, into the kitchens, Fenris started up. He made it up two steps before he heard Zevran.
"Wardens! To your Commander!"
Swearing, Fenris took the rest of the steps two at a time, racing to the next floor. There was the door to the dining area, another to Chantal's study, and two other doors. The first was locked, but the second was opening before Fenris even made it there. A woman was trying to escape, but there was a very athletic, very naked elf on top of her. He was holding a dagger in his hand, pushing her down into the floor as they toppled out the door. The dagger was at the woman's throat immediately, nicking into soft skin.
"Mi amor! Chantal!" Zevran called, before catching sight of Fenris. "This assassin attacked the Warden Commander. She has been injured. I need a healer."
"Zevran, I'm fine, I…" The voice inside the door was a bit weaker than it should have been and descended into a worrisome hacking cough. Fenris turned, prepared to race down the steps, but Hawke was already there, clutching the sheet around her like a dress.
"Fenris, thank the Maker." She reached for him, biting her lip with worry. Her staff was in her other hand, emitting a faint white glow in the darkened hallway.
"Your cousin." Fenris indicated the room behind him and she pushed past both elves, brightening her staff to look at the destruction. There was ice clinging to many of the surfaces and shards of it sticking out from the carpet. The sheets were ripped off the bed, as if the occupants had fled from it in seconds. There was a large pool of blackness on the left side, glinting in the light of Hawke's staff. Hawke swore, ducking down beside the bed to the small, nude figure there as well. The blood was pouring from a stab wound in the woman's rib cage, just below her heart.
"Glad to see you." Chantal said weakly, then coughed again. Bright blood stained her lips.
"Don't talk." Hawke ordered. "Fenris, help me get her onto the bed."
Hawke seemed to have forgotten her cousin was naked, but perhaps this wasn't the correct time to bring it up. Fenris reached down, as gently as possible cradling the womans form as Hawke hovered. She winched and Fenris could feel labored breathing, but she didn't cry out in pain. She was a tough as Hawke.
"Maker's breath, Zevran." Was that the King? Fenris couldn't tell, but thought so. "What in Andraste's flaming knickers is this?"
"Watch the assassin, let Zevran in here." Hawke called, handing her staff to Fenris apologetically. "Amatus, I need my hands and I need the light. Can you please…?"
Fenris nodded, taking a step back and holding the staff over Chantal. Hawke examined the injury critically. Zevran was at her shoulder quickly, reaching out to take Chantal's hand.
"Mi amor, it isn't so bad, no?" Zevran's voice was light, but his knuckles were white and there were tight lines around his eyes. "You've come through worse."
"Good news, you'll come through this." Hawke started, her hands beginning to glow warm and blue as she started to knit together the wound. "Zevran, do you know where the weapon is? I can smell deathroot in her blood, I think it was poisoned."
"I will find it. You can heal her?" Zevran asked, his tone sharp.
"Course I can." Hawke said confidently. "I got the lung almost fixed, breathing easier, cousin?" She asked easily.
Chantal nodded, pale but calm. Zevran's posture eased a bit as he broke his vigil to locate the assassin's weapon. "I can beat the name of the poison out of the assassin." Alistair offered cheerfully. The assassin spat onto his armor and laughed hoarsely.
"Mage whore." The female assassin sneered. "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond." Fenris recognized that Chant and rolled his eyes.
"Ah, a fanatic. My favorite kind of crazy." Alistair remarked, digging his elbow into the woman's stomach and wiping her spit onto her own tunic.
"No need, my friend. We will save the beating for later." Zevran remarked darkly, returning with the blade. "It is certainly deathroot. I have an antidote, will she do well to take it now?"
"Sooner the better, it shouldn't be a lethal dose, but the antidote will ease the pain." Hawke explained. "Almost done." She soothed Chantal, brushing the woman's hair back gently. Fenris eyed the wicked looking dagger, examining the hilt.
"That looks Orlesian." He remarked.
"It's always the Orlesians. Can't trust them as far as you can throw them." Alistair grumbled, leaning close to the assassin. "Don't suppose you'll make it easy and just tell us who you are?"
"I am one of the most faithful, called to great service." The woman rasped.
"Course you are." Alistair rolled his eyes, getting up off the floor and dragging the woman with him. "Chantal, any opinions on dealing with this?"
"I will handle it." Zevran interrupted immediately.
"No." Chantal broke in. "Take her to Warden on watch outside, Ali." Chantal coughed, but no blood stained her lips. She took a deep breath as the wound began to grow smaller and smaller and she took the proffered vial from Zevran. She downed it.
"Mi amor, she tried to kill you in our bed." Zevran's eyes narrowed. "That is a grave mistake, an example should be made."
"Obviously we were in our bed, we're both naked as the day we were born." Chantal croaked.
"I wasn't going to mention it." Hawke said diplomatically. "But if we're going to talk about it now, I want you to know that I only peeked a little."
Fenris just about choked on his own tongue and quickly grabbed the blanket, throwing it at Zevran. The other elf caught it, amused.
"Warden on watch duty gets the prisoner. I'm assuming prisoner gets searched and thrown in the dungeon, correct?" Alistair repeated, his hand over his eyes. "Any other instructions?"
"I want a full search." Zevran demanded and Chantal acquiesced with a roll of her shoulders. Hawke stepped back, admiring her handiwork. Chantal blushed softly.
"I believe I have a tunic somewhere…" She reached toward the armoire. Zevran was there in a moment, pulling out something blue and embroidered and draping it over her.
"Maleficarum!" The woman screeched. "Blood mage! You have blood on your hands! The corpses at Soldier's Peak rise screaming your name!"
"That's enough from you." Alistair growled, his cheerful demeanor falling. "Out."
"Are you a blood mage?" Fenris asked warily. Chantal smiled wanly.
"It's not something they teach in the tower, so no." She shook her head. "The wardens were doing blood magic at Soldier's Peak, however. Long before my time, ages ago. We killed the person responsible during the blight. How does she know that?" Chantal tipped her head up to look at Zevran, but Zevran was eying the blood on the bed.
"You scared me, mi amor." He whispered. "I should have been more careful."
"Zevran…" She called softly. "You can't be awake forever."
"Ah, but it is my job to sniff out these threats before they climb through our window, no?" Zevran asked bitterly. "If there was no healer here, you could have drowned in your own blood."
"I didn't." Color was rising to Chantal's face.
"I must check and make sure nothing else is suspicious. I will send servants to clean up. Would you please stay with her while she recovers?" Zevran asked, all politeness towards Hawke. Hawke nodded and Zevran backed out of the room gracefully, melting into the shadows.
"Oh Maker, he's going to be impossible for the next few weeks." Chantal whispered, shaking her head. "The Wardens need to know what is going on. Nathaniel Howe is my second in command here, can you please find him? He sleeps in the barracks."
Fenris was reluctant to leave Hawke, but she looked wide awake and furious. Hawke nodded and angled her head to the doorway. "Send Carver up if you're nervous, he's got a big sword and he likes to use it."
Fenris nodded, handing the staff back to Hawke and disappearing down the steps.
