AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies to those who have been waiting for the next chapter. You have a friend of mine to thank to finally get me inspired into writing. If you were having trouble getting to the new chapter before, that was because I uploaded it forgetting that I didn't even finish it... So the notifications of a new chapter went our before I could take down the chapter again. Sorry, loves!

You may get confused with this chapter... But I URGE you to read it slowly! And please don't worry about Karasten... He will be back.

PLEASE VIEW this story this story with 1/4 story width... You can find the story width adjusters in the top right-hand side, just above the chapter drop down menu.

Band I was listening to While Writing: TYR

Chapter 11: You Belong to Me

"I secretly longed for something which had never existed."

The Arishok stood at the threshold, and she could see his pale eyes dancing even from the great distance that separated them. He had been out to battle again; it seemed that this great Warlord could not escape his duties even when on a rush trip home.

The great barges had paused along a stark, mountainous island chain inhabited by clans of fair-looking mercenaries. They did not seem to take the Qunari landing with much joy, and knowing the domineering Kossith, they had probably inadvertently provoked them. Nevertheless, the Arishok met his foe among his men as one of them. A quality Hawke had not seen among many a warrior and general alike. It was something that swords-woman deeply appreciated about the Qunari; their odd gender roles aside, the Qunari fought as one and never sought glory by sabotaging his brothers. Honor was something Hawke held dear, even though she was sore to admit she had broken it many times.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice the great Qunari as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him. There was an unceremonious thunk as his shoulder armor loosened and fell to the ground. Her eyes had fallen, half-lidded, but they widened once more as she gazed at the pile of hardened leather on the floor.
This was very odd, to say the least. The Arishok had always treated his armor with the utmost care. What had happened to change him thusly?
Hawke stiffened, her back achingly uncomfortably against the bolted-down chair. His demeanor was certainly abnormal. He did not usually call at such a late hour. Had he come to teach her something that he had forgotten earlier in the day?

"Arishok," She spoke softly, her eyes wandering from the thick stump of a candle flickering nearby to his towering frame (she was positive he stood over eight feet tall, dwarfing her by three feet). "I did not expect you so late."

The Arishok looked upon her, his expression unreadable as it always had been, except for those strange, time stopping moments when he had claimed her with his Mouth in Kirkwall... Those advances had abruptly stopped as soon as they had begun their journey, and Hawke had seen little of him besides he occasional lessons he had given her. She thought suddenly of Karasten, who she had only seen in passing since he had brought her upon the ship-that hazy, drugged evening of passion that they had shared before he left her without a word to the Arishok. Karasten had been her friend, but her heart twisted now at the thought of him. Hawke was hurt. Why did he avoid her?

"Shanedan, Hawke." The Arishok's rumbling voice pulled her from reverie, his eyes still holding that strange, flickering shine. Her eyes dragged over his form. His pale, greyish skin was splattered with dried blood, but it was hard for Hawke to tell where the body paint and the blood ended. Besides this, the Arishok seemed strangely bare, and it took her a moment to realize that everything save for his lower clothing was gone, including his golden adornments.
"Am I in the wrong room?" Hawke suddenly gasped, a blush creeping across her face. "I did have more of that wine. I'll find my way out."

The Arishok did not speak, but he assumed a posture that held more understanding than what a sentence could convey. He drew himself up, straightening his spine, his hair falling forward across his shoulders, between his ebony horns, partially shading his face but somehow outlining his eyes all the more. His horns curved melted into the darkness and seemed to be made of the blackness itself.

Hawke, who had made to move out of her chair, gasped and collapsed back into it's hardness, her body tightening not in fear, but in a sudden grip of arousal. She struggled to hold on the the coattails of decorum; her lips passing gasped words: "It is late for a lesson, don't you think?"

And then suddenly he was before her, his movements blurred by the passionate intoxication which overtook her. She remembered all at once how much she had wanted him, and the realization hit her like a delicious wall of pleasure, leaving her tingling in the most secret of places.

"That is for me to decide, bas." The Arishok drummed out, the normally negatively-construed word taking on a wholly new meaning as he leaned forward, his fingers lightly running along her hair. Hawke took a deep breath, her eyes closing briefly, her hand smoothing across his hardened chest as he leaned in a discretely smelled the nape of her neck. "Arishok, if you come any closer I will not be able to contain myself." She bit her lips closed at the realization of what she just said.

The Arishok grunted and knotted his fingers in her hair, accepting her challenge; his teeth lightly grazing that especially sensitive spot on her neck. A moan cut through the silence, and it was her own. Hawke felt the Arishok's lips tighten into a smile on her neck, and she briskly pushed him away. Her palms pushed into his chest, her fingers knotting into the thick strands of his snowy white hair.

"You do not know what you are asking for." Hawke breathed, her mouth falling open, her body tensing, holding herself back from straddling the Qunari.

"I do." The Arishok simply replied, his hands clenching on the softness of her hips, slowly edging down her pants.

Hawke's eyes fluttered closed briefly. How long had she waited for this? And he was mercilessly teasing her! Leaning into him with all of her weight, the warrior woman pushed him back towards the bed, her hands drawing out the laces of his pants hastily but with steady hands. The Arishok managed to pull apart the front clasp of her pants before pulling them down over her well-rounded rump.

By the time the back of his knees hit the back of the bed, Hawke had revealed his pulsing, swollen member. The great Qunari warlord eased himself onto the bed, watching Hawke as she dipped low and greedily took his member into her mouth. His member was definitely larger than anything she had experienced before, but her enthusiasm left no room for pause, and she took as much of it into her mouth as she possibly could. Her work surprisingly drew from him low gasps and rumbling growls.

The Arishok's member grew startlingly larger, and Hawke pulled away with a gasp, wiggling out of her trousers. The candlelight revealed the wet sheen of her engorged mound to the warlord's eyes, and Hawke unceremoniously pulled off her shirt to let him feast upon her fully naked form. The Arishok moved to pull her under him, but she quickly straddled him, her hand pressing against his chest as she took his member and rubbed it along her wet slit. The Arishok seemed content with this, pressing the pad of his thumb against her clitoris, moving this way and that, finding the perfect spot and rhythm to urge forth her moans. This continued for some time until Hawke could no longer handle the pressure. Her breath hitching in her throat, the warrior woman pushed his member against her entrance, lowering herself slightly on it. A sharp pain shot from her opening as the Arishok stretched her entrance. She bit her lip and moved gently on the head until she grew more accustomed to his large size, pleasure overtaking the brief moment of pain.

She felt the Arishok's claws bite into the soft flesh of her hips as he gradually gained entrance into her softness. He was impatient, and this surprised Hawke. His hips rose up to meet her with a quick, powerful thrust, and the sensation of his girth stretching her and brushing against that certain spot within her overwhelmed her. Caught in an intense moment of pleasure, the Arishok quickly withdrew and rolled her beneath him while she was stunned. His fingers circled around her clit vigorously, moistening her passage for his reentry, his member pushing against her as his free hand pressed against her belly, holding her down.

Hawke looked at the Arishok, whose eyes remained focused but half-lidded with lust. He towered over her now, giving her a view she never thought she would see; She wanted him badly... Her hips rose up slightly to accommodate his height, the tip of his member pressing sharply against her tight entrance, his thumb swirling against her most sensitive spot. They seemed to remain locked in this position forever, and Hawke opened her mouth to protest, her hips gyrating against his member. Her body tingled, but she longed to be filled with him, to be complete.

The Arishok, his face curtained by a waterfall of very long white hair, could not hold back the shine of possession and satisfaction in his eyes. He waited a long moment, his free hand cupping her bottom to support her as he drove himself within her once more, unforgiving. A deep sigh rumbled over the wet sounds of their rutting; the Arishok had not felt this sensation in a very long time, but that was for Qun... And this, this was for something completely different. It was blasphemous; he was signing away all he lived for, but it had never felt so right. With his basalit-an quaking beneath his movements, a very irrational, hidden part of his mind longed for more moments like this, for an escape from the frigidness of the Qun.

A growl tore through the darkness, bursting forth from the Arishok's lips as he quickened his pace, his thumb doubling it's speed as it worked against her spot. Hawke writhed against him, that familiar aching feeling building up within her; his movements bringing her startlingly close to her orgasm. Getting up on her elbows, she let her eyes fly over his form, admiring how beautiful he looked even when engaged in such a primal act. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, outlining his rippling muscles and the sharp masculinity of his face. She could see his length move in and out of her at an unrelenting rhythm, the look on his face telling her than he was coming near to his orgasm as well.

Suddenly, that ache swallowed her whole her, growing very strong. Hawke's fingers gripped the sheets, her hips bucking as her orgasm came to it's peak. Her eyes rolled back into the darkness of her skull, the feeling of the Arishok cleaving her in two with his strokes and the waterfall of her orgasm making her body shiver. His breathing was becoming quick and ragged, strung with softly spoken words in Qunari. His thumb still worked on her button, and as the first orgasm began to fade, another was building, quickly taking hold. Hawke's head flew back, her body shaking with the rise of the new orgasm which began rising within her. An image began forming against her eyelids; a flash of crimson fire, the pale shade of ash...

Hawke's eyes flew open as her dam burst, looking at the great figure who grunted against the quaking walls of her warmth. He rose as if carved of fine marble above her, his full length pressed within her, his angular features slackened as he pumped in and out of her tensing and releasing sex. His eyes, however, remained open; bright red and unblinking. I am still yours, kadan.

Karasten? She thought desperately.

The red ribbon wrapped around his horns shined dully, his sooty hair sweeping past his shoulders and clinging to his damp skin. His hand gripped her bottom, pulling her to meet him as his pace grew more desperate and rough. A scream of pleasure ripped through Hawke's throat, and her back arched, her fingers curling into the thick down of the bed. The Karasten above her signaled his release with a bestial growl, burying his member to the hilt within her shivering body. After a long, breathless moment he pumped into her gently, savoring the feeling of her tightness. Hawke collapsed into the softness of the bed, her eyes fluttering open to look at her lover.

Karasten...

The Arishok, still inside her, leaned in towards her and brushed his lips against hers softly. It was odd, considering her so breakable considering what he had finished doing to her moments before. If she had been skinnier, he knew that she would not be able to walk. But she was not exempt for bruises and soreness, he was sure. The Arishok hovered above her, his hand sliding up to stroke away the hair that clung to her damp forehead. Even now, she was beautiful. She had always been beautiful, if not in looks than in the way she moved, spoke... Thought.

Hawke peered up at the Arishok, suppressing the look of utter shock at the vision she had just experienced. At once she felt incredibly guilty, but she pushed it aside, a smile forming on her face as the Arishok kissed her. This was something she had craved for the longest time. And he was risking so much...

"Kadan no longer seems like a sufficient title," The Arishok rumbled, killing the silence; his lips once again pressing against hers, lingering for longer than they hand before. Hawke responded with enthusiasm, but the warlord pulled away. "It puzzles me."

Hawke searched the Arishok's pale eyes, a memory tickling that back of her mind, but not making itself quite so clear. "Then let us speak another language, entirely." She breathed, her hand gripping one his thick ebony horns and pulling him down; their lips meeting and parting with urgency.