Chapter Eleven
Hawke refused to leave her room for little over two weeks, and for the first few days Anders didn't leave her side. Eventually, however, he needed to return to his clinic and the shivering blonde reluctantly allowed him to leave on the proviso that he would return if he could on an evening and sit with her. During the days she could have some semblance of normality, writing in her journals (though from a quick glance one evening when the woman had gone to sleep Anders had seen she wrote very little) and she and Orana would sit by the fire as the elf played the lute for her.
The others stepped in where they could, Fenris and Merrill were always happy to sit with her, the former for less chivalrous reasons the mage had no doubt (though the sneaky bastard claimed they were reading lessons...Anders could pull that stunt too if he wanted to), and Varric or Isabella could often be found sitting opposite the young woman until nightfall with a glass of wine telling her of the thrilling happenings in Kirkwall. Aveline had only been able to see her a few times as she'd been too busy trying to deal with the fallout Leandra's death had caused. A certain Starkhaven prince had been strangely absent as well; something that irked Anders for no apparent reason, if the man didn't want to help with her grief then that was his business.
It was watching Marea look up expectantly at her doorway on a morning before he left for the clinic only to find Merrill or Fenris standing there and watching her face fall that broke his heart. If Sebastian didn't make an appearance soon then so help him he would drag the man down from his precious Chantry to see her himself.
As it so happened he didn't need to in the end; the man did the right thing himself and came to see her in the afternoon, when Anders was at the clinic. And made a right hash of it too.
"I've put your mother's name on the Remembrance wall..."
Marea gave the man in her doorway a thin smile from her seat by the fire, a mug of elfroot and cinnamon steaming between her hands. Whether or not she had faith in the Maker it was still nice of the rogue to think of her, of her mother. "Thank you, Sebastian. That was very sweet of you...I'm glad you're here."
"I only wish I could have come sooner," Sebastian said gently and nodded to acknowledge her thanks before slowly padding over to settle himself on the rug in front of her. "I...know that you say you don't believe in the Maker, Hawke. But some people find it comforting to know that He does things for a reason."
The blonde sent him a withering look and shook her head. Of all the things to bring up. Why not just a simple 'I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it?' She didn't want to hear that the Maker had a plan for us; she didn't want something akin to the response he'd given Fenris: 'Maybe the Maker let Danarius kill that boy so you would never let it happen again.' People were twisted, that wasn't down to an absent deity. "I'm not 'some people', Sebastian. And trying to convert me while I'm supposed to be mourning is a very low blow, especially for you."
Although looking slightly guilty that she'd taken his words such Sebastian frowned and leant forward to gently take her hands in his, and while a few weeks ago she would have welcomed his warm sympathy, she couldn't stomach anyone's touch – other than Anders. "I'm not trying to convert you, Hawke. I was just saying that the Maker has a plan. She's by His side now; he takes the best of us."
Hawke scowled and pulled her hands from his, settling her hurt gaze on him. How could he read other people so easily and not understand that talking about this wasn't helping. She didn't want a debate about whether or not the Maker existed and whether or not he cared for them; but his words had inflamed her frayed nerves and short fuse. Clenching her hands around the mug she chewed each word before spitting them out at him.
"She wasn't his to take. She was mine, and I needed her; I need her. You say the Maker has turned away from us and yet nowyou say he took an interest in our lives long enough to take my mother away from me. He's either gone and doesn't care or he's a sick, spiteful deity who likes watching us in pain!" she growled watching Sebastian's face twist from surprise to anger as he jumped to his feet.
"We scorned him first, Hawke! We're the ones who turned away from him – "
"You claim he's our father!" she cut across him, slamming the mug on the table and hissed when the scolding liquid spilt onto her hand. "What kind of a parent turns away when their children are suffering this much?"
"My parents did it," the prince snapped thoughtlessly, "So did your mother."
Marea froze and turned horrified eyes to the prince stood in front of her, and for a moment both stared at each other in appalled shock, neither daring to broach the silence. The blonde could already feel tears prickling at her eyes at the stark reminder of the strained relationship she and her mother had shared and for a moment the words that passed between them at Leandra's death didn't matter. She was still five years old and fighting for her Mama's attention; desperate for the affection of old.
From the corner of her eyes she could see Anders had appeared in the doorway, Kodi growling by his feet, looking between the two rogues bewildered by what he'd heard from the hallway. Hawke wanted to hide from them both and as Sebastian made to touch her shoulder she leapt from the chair, backing away from him towards the bed.
"Get out."
In Sebastian's defence he did look disgusted with himself for saying such a thing, even in the heat of the moment, but she didn't have the state of mind to be as understanding as would have been in the past. "Hawke, I'm so sorry. I didn – "
"Sebastian. Get. Out."
After a moment's hesitation the man slowly dipped his head and slipped past Anders, mumbling his apology as he went. The mage could only watch as Hawke paced back and forth across the room, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes and her breathing hitching. Absently he scratched behind the Mabari's ears as he whined before gently nudging the beast out of the room and shut the door.
"Hawke."
The woman in front of him continued her frantic pacing, plucking at her nightshirt and chewing her lower lip into bloody submission; it was only when Anders padded over and gently held her in place that she looked at him. Careful not to jostle her too much (for fear she'd run like a skittish colt) the mage gently pushed her long hair from her face, tucked the mass over one shoulder and brushed his fingers down her cheek.
"Marea. Calm down. Please."
The blonde, although reluctant, slowly did as he asked and Hawke took a deep breath before turning her eyes to him; she looked a little surprised, as if she hadn't quite expected him to be there. Anders offered a small smile before obligingly wrapping his arms around her smaller frame when she leant forward to bury her face into his chest. Come to think of it, he was back a little early...Some pushing on Justice's part.
Had he known?
Why Justice? You were worried for the 'distraction'.
Somewhere distantly he could feel the spirit's dislike of being teased but noticed there was no evidence of denial in his own emotions. Perhaps there had been more to Justice's intentions than he'd first expected when he and Marea had spoken in the Fade; that got a sudden burst of emotions and he chuckled under his breath.
"Why're you laughing?"
Looking down Anders smirked at the rogue peering at him from beneath her fringe and shook his head. "Nothing really, just Justice being emotional. It doesn't happen much; in fact it doesn't happen at all. With two exceptions. The mages, and you."
That stopped her tears and Marea swiped at her reddening cheeks in embarrassment. He was lying, he had to be; he knew how awkward things were between her and the spirit and he wanted to tease her about it. If she remembered rightly Justice had forcibly kisses her and then proceeded to tell her that he would 'allow her' to have Anders if he wanted her 'for now'...It had left her completely baffled and under the distinct impression that the spirit didn't actually like her; he was just being affected by the body of his host.
He must have seen the disbelief on her face because he smiled charmingly and continued, "He doesn't...agree with my obsession with you; you know it's one of the few things he and I don't agree on. He thinks you're a distraction."
"Gee, thanks."
"Let me finish," the mage chided before taking her chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb. The devotion in his eyes momentarily dazed her. "I think I understand why he calls you that...It's because you are, to both of us. In the Circle, back in Ferelden...love was just a game. It gave the Templars too much power if there was something or someone you couldn't stand to lose. No mage I've known has dared to fall in love, this is a rule I'll most cherish breaking but...I want you to be completely sure that I'm what you want – you'll never get another first time."
"You start off all of your conquests like this?" she asked incredulously, shivering as his hand finally spread across her cheek, electricity crackling beneath his skin. "Anyone would think you're trying to scare me off."
Anders gave her a coy smile, "Only the one's that matter and I...am. I'm here for you...if you'll still have me."
Marea somewhat bashfully returned the smile and tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck, moulding her body against the length of his. "You're going to have to try harder than that to make me run. I've fought nasty people."
"And I've fought Darkspawn."
"I deal with Sandal and his 'Enchantment Soup' on a near day to day basis," Hawke said finally, giggling when the mage pulled a face and nodded, placing his hands on her hips as he swallowed thickly.
"You win. Howhe hasn't blown half of Hightown to Antiva and back is beyond me."
For a long moment the pair remained silent with Anders alternating between staring at her lips and somewhere in between her eyes and Hawke staring resolutely at his chest as she toyed with the band that held his hair back away from his face. Finally she tugged the fastening free and dropped the unwanted piece of fabric to the ground behind him before carding her fingers through his hair, leaning up to kiss his chin. Then his jaw. Until his hands gently pushed at her hips to stop her.
Frowning, the blonde asked, "What's wrong?"
"You are...not the only one who's a little nervous, Marea," Anders mumbled, turning his face in her grasp to gently kiss the palm of her hand with a small smirk. "And you're going about this all wrong."
At first she was a little insulted, until she noticed the twinkle in his eyes, and she pulled away a fraction to stare at him, one eyebrow raised. The expression made him groan, "Maker I hate it when you give me that look. I feel like a naughty boy."
"Who says you're not?"
"Touché," Anders chuckled and gently rubbed her sides before dipping his head to nose her hair away from her ear. "You were going too quickly, sweetheart. This should be taken slowly; we have plenty of time for lost in the moment love making later, but for now we should savour this."
With an anxious nod the blonde bit her lip as the man tucked his hair behind an ear before leaning back with a mischievous leer. "It appears I'll have to educate you," he added after a second's pause and regarded her with mock solemnity. "First you start with a kiss – " he gently swatted her rump as she opened her mouth to argue with him, " – Not the teasing little things you saw fit to pepper me with; a proper kiss...One that holds a promise of things to come."
Before Marea could say a word his lips had captured hers, relentless in their attack and pressure but gentle and far more yielding than the one Justice had instigated in the Fade and it was all she could do to keep her head out of the clouds and to kiss him back. His lips were chapped from his time spent in Darktown and his stubble rasped against her chin but she couldn't bring herself to care about either, not when Anders was dragging her closer and his tongue was softly probing her lips; begging for entrance.
With a gentle moan she obliged and gave him access to her mouth turning into putty in his hands as he thoroughly tasted and explored every inch of her. And when he gently, tantalizingly brushed his tongue against hers it was all she could do not to collapse in his arms right then. He was teasing her, and Makerwas he good at it. Whimpering she buried her fingers into his hair and pressed forwards and against him eagerly, relishing the soft growl he made in the back of his throat as she returned his goading with gentle nips of her own.
She was on fire.
"And next?" she whispered breathlessly, wetting her lips as he stared down at her with hooded eyes.
"And now," Anders mumbled and dipped his neck to gently graze his lips against the delicate curve of her ear, his tongue flicking across the fleshy lobe, "We play."
He smirked at the soft giggle he was rewarded when his fingers glanced over her sides and he attacked her neck with a fevered devotion, all hot tongue and gentle nips. He trailed his open mouthed kisses to her collarbone, following her lead as she gently tugged at his hair with breathy sighs and sucked at the hollow, barely dipping beneath the fabric of her nightshirt before returning his lips to hers.
The way she returned the affection left him in no doubt that she wanted him as much as he wanted her and when she gently ground her hips to his he felt his conviction to take this slow waver. It would be so easy to take her quickly, against the bedpost, over her desk, on the floor on the fire-warmed rug...in the chair with her undulating above him, her hair tossed over her shoulder and head tipped back with abandon. Groaning softly he forced his lust dazed mind away from the fantasies he was imagining and to the fantasy unfolding in reality.
Hawke's fingers were making quick work of his coat, apparently picking locks made for good sex. He was looking forward to testing it out. "Not wishing to ruin the moment," he whispered as she pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet to lavish his jaw and throat, "But where did you learn all of this?"
Marea pulled away a fraction, her eyes gleaming impishly as she broke into a sly smile. "Isabella's friend fiction is Maker sent to a woman who has nothing but her fingers to keep her company."
She giggled as his eyes widened and his pupils dilated, his fingers tightening in the fabric of her shirt. His throat worked for a moment before he hoarsely asked, "And...what exactly did you take away from it?"
"Oh this and that. There are few that involve Justice, 'Bella has quite the imagination...But there was one that I'm rather fond of; would you like to hear it?" Hawke shrugged and pushed his coat from his shoulders to fall heavily by their feet. At the soft moan of acknowledgement she continued, "I somehow pluck up the courage to go down to the clinic during the evening; you're busy sat there writing up your manifesto and I don't give you a moment to get up before I slip onto your lap and – "
Trailing off she bit her lip, her blush of desire deepening as he groaned and buried his face into her neck, gently nipping the skin. "And I take you into – into my mouth."
That seemed to do it. Whatever restraint Anders had been trying to claw at snapped and he took her by the shoulders, pushing her back until they both hit the post on her bed. For what felt like an age they did battle, their tongues and mouths dancing in the ancient sensual rite that thousands had done before them; but he didn't think that any of them could have wanted each other as much as they did. With a growl he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt his fingers leaving a trail of hot and cold as he slid them over her abdomen. "You little minx, Marea."
"Hmmm," she giggled and tipped her head back against the smooth wood, arching into his touch like a cat, pressing a leg between his own. "'Bella's been rather helpful over all this. What did you think we were talking about last night when you walked in?"
Anders cast his mind back to the night previous, where the two women had been sat on the rug, the Rivani pirate whispering with a glimmer in her eye as she explained something, all sultry smiles and crude gestures. Hawke, although a little wide eyed, had taken it all in her stride, nodding every now and then; he had to admit he'd been too busy watching the way the fire danced over her skin and cast shadows against the creamy expanse of her slightly bared chest that he hadn't been listening to them.
"One of her past conquests, I assumed. I didn't realise that she was educating you on your future one," he mumbled against her skin, savouring the way her breath hitched as he brushed his thumbs over her fabric hidden nipples. After a moment of fumbling he reached behind her to untie the laces holding her breast band in place, "I'll have to thank her later."
Marea smirked and fisted his hair pulling his face up to her level, biting her lip at the look of unadulterated lust on the mage's face as she gently flicked her tongue over his top lip. "Less talking, more kissing."
"Yes, ma'am," Anders chuckled and leant forward to capture her kiss swollen lips with his, groaning softly as she shifted her weight, the leg trapped between his causing just enough friction to be tantalising. Maker did she know what she was doing to him? The small smile, albeit a little nervous, let him know that she did.
With a sly grin he slowly pulled one hand from beneath her shirt, the breast band between his forefinger and thumb; both of their gazes moved to regard the offending piece of fabric and before she could say a word Anders had dipped his head to gently flick his tongue across the hardened nub his free hand was still teasing. With a shocked moan Hawke arched into his mouth, sighing when his lips wrapped around the thin cloth and sucked.
The sensation was dulled and enticing and both of them revealed in the moment, the mage only pulling away when her shirt was damp with saliva to move to torment her nipples twin. If there was one thing Anders could say about Marea Hawke, it was she was a woman who knew what she wanted; it was obvious from the slight hesitation to her actions that this was new territory but she was a fast learner and she certainly listened to her body. Within minutes she was gently tugging his hair and guiding him to areas of her breasts that she found most sensitive and he had to pull away for air.
"I'm sorry," she whispered huskily and suddenly it didn't matter, there were just too many clothes. Hushing her gently he grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside to join his coat. He barely had the chance to look at her before she was upon him, her small warm hands exploring the hardened planes of his torso, tutting softly as her fingers traced long healed scars and the fresher ones from their escapades about Kirkwall.
Each blemish was lavished with a soft open mouthed kiss and she couldn't help but marvel over the softness of his skin, stretched taut over hard muscles. He was better in the flesh than anything she could have hoped to imagine in her bed when thoughts of the mage had kept her awake at night. She had known he would be well built, beneath the coat she could see the muscle rippling when he worked in the clinic and during battle when he'd spin and drive his staff into the ground with a force that made the earth beneath them move.
Marea kept her ears cocked for the soft hitch of his breath that told her when she flicked her teeth against an area of skin he was particularly responsive to. After a moment or so she brushed her trembling fingers against the waistband of his breeches and lifted her eyes to shyly meet his, "Can I?"
"Sweetheart, you're welcome to take whatever you want," he whispered breathlessly and let her manoeuvre him so his back was against the post and she slowly slid down his body to crouch in front of him. Chewing her lip anxiously Hawke slowly released the ties and helped him shimmy out of the restraining fabric and his smallclothes. She giggled childishly as he cursed when they got caught around his knees by his boots but a gentle touch to his thigh had him stilling suddenly.
Anders could only watch as the blonde in front of him smiled coyly and pressed a soft open mouthed kiss to his thigh and pulled his boots off when he raised each leg. Maker she must be Andraste herself because he was certain that no one should be able to look that beautiful and still hold a semblance of innocence while sitting between his legs. He tunnelled his fingers through her soft hair as she hesitantly wrapped her hand around his length.
He could feel the uncertainty and tension in her body as she nervously bit her lip harder in concentration and rolled her loose fist up to the tip. His breathy moan seemed to spur her on because she was suddenly moving faster and it was all he could do to keep his hips from thrusting forward.
The gentle flick of her tongue however had his hips snap towards her and she chuckled at his desperation before tenderly pushing his shuddering form back against the post. The toothy smile she shot up at him sent his pulse racing in his ears and he stood transfixed as she tantalizingly slowly wrapped those perfect lips around his head and pushed down, inch by inch.
From above her she could hear his grunts of pleasure as his hips jerked beneath her ministrations. Her jaw was starting to ache but despite it she felt arousal flood her abdomen; Anders was falling apart because of her, it sent her mind reeling. And Hawke couldn't help but understand why Isabella liked this so much; there was something liberating about this kind of pleasure. It washed away everything, if only for a little while.
Loosening her throat like the pirate had advised she awkwardly slid his length just a fraction further...And promptly choked when the mage jerked his hips forwards. Pulling away she raised an eyebrow at her lover and smiled at his horrified look, somewhat ruined by the heavy pants and the thick desire clouding his eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment as he carded his fingers through her hair and she sighed before placing her forearm across his hips and dipping her head to repeat the action.
"Stop! Stop, love or you'll finish me," he groaned and she immediately pulled away from him, her expression reminding him of the times Ser Pounce-A-Lot would place a dead pigeon or mouse on his bed in the morning...Of course this wasn't because of a dead animal she'd caught...
"Maker, more friend fiction?"
She blushed slightly and shook her head, her smug smile slipping slightly, "I...it was only once. I was drunk on cheap ale one night when I was still working for Meeran. One of his boys had been eying me up for weeks and he managed to persuade me to – well, the bastard passed out when I was finished."
"Experience isn't a bad thing to have, Marea. But you haven't..."
Shaking her head Hawke let him pull her to her feet and pull her flush against his body, the movement accentuated her clothed form and the look that passed over his face left her in no doubts that it was about to be rectified. He made quick work of the loose sleeping breeches at her hips and let them, and her Orleasian silk smallclothes (Maker help him), drop to the floor before gently smoothing his hands over the swell of her buttocks. She could only watch, the flush of embarrassment and desire tinting her shoulders and collarbone as he gently pulled her shirt over her hair, both of them giggling when the ties caught in her hair and another five minutes or so was spent trying to untangle her locks.
Finally she stood naked and blushing in front of him and he couldn't stop himself from grasping her chin and pulling her into another kiss. Gently he guided her onto the bed, helping her arrange her limbs, arms and legs that suddenly felt very heavy and awkward. He must have felt the nervous energy building in her gut because he gently brushed his fingers down her shoulders, causing her to shudder at the electricity she could feel thrumming over his skin.
"Calm down, love...Just relax," he whispered before kissing down her collar to lavish attention to her perfect breasts, palming one as he licked, sucked and twisted one taunt nipple between his teeth and fingers. Hawke sung beneath him, arching and whispering encouragements as he dragged his tongue down the dip of her stomach and past the wiry triangle of curls above her sex. Her musky scent flooded his nostrils and he had to gently push the blonde's legs apart when she'd reflexively tried to close them against his intrusion.
The first swipe of his tongue across her folds as he spread her had Marea arching from the bed with a soft whine, trembling with her force of her desire as his lips enclosed the nub above her entrance and sucked. Had she still had any form of coherent thought she would have been ashamed of the moans, mewls and cries that escaped her as Anders manipulated her body with more expertise than it was fair to have. And by the time he gently pressed one finger into her clenching sex she came, her back bowing with the force of her climax and shouting the mage's name before slumping boneless and sated against the pillows.
Vaguely she was aware of him settling his weight over her and instinctively her legs moved up to cradle his hips and with a small, lazy smile she pushed the stray hairs from his sweaty forehead. Tentatively he leant down to press his lips to hers and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the bed to crush her against his chest. "Are you ready?"
Licking her lips nervously when she felt him align against her Hawke slowly bobbed her head in acknowledgement, gritting her teeth as he slid into her. They had both expected the slight resistance and he was careful to soothe her pain and distract her with gentle kisses, his breath coming in soft pants as he fought the urge to thrust. It felt like an age before she subtly shifted her weight and breathily assured him it was alright to move.
True to his word there was nothing rushed about their coupling; they moved with a languid passion that rolled over them both, washing away anything in the wave's path. How long they rocked against each other, crooning moans and soft demands into each other's ears neither of them were sure, but eventually the gentle pace quickened as the edge loomed before them. It was Hawke who fell from the precipice first, pressing firmly against him as he buried his face into her neck, her clenching muscles sending him stuttering towards his own release.
The fire in the grate had dimmed to embers when they finally regained their breath and untangled their sated limbs to curl against each other to bask in the final throes of passion. Anders recovered first and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to watch the glorious creature spread out next to him, eyes closed and smiling.
"Stop staring at me." Hawke cracked an eye open as he chuckled and stretched her languid muscles before turning to look at him, "Why areyou staring at me?"
"What did I do to deserve someone like you?" he asked quietly, seriously and she frowned, shifting to iron out the creases at his forehead with a small kiss.
"I ask myself the same thing if it makes you feel any better."
It did. "I love you. I've been holding back from saying that, you should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive like me."
"Anders," the blonde hissed warningly and he smiled slightly, "We've had this conversation. Can't we go back to post-sex, no talking...Or even better pre-sex, no talking?"
Anders leant over and pressed a soothing kiss to her lips, resting his hand on her hip, "I don't ever want to leave you."
There was a long moment where Marea didn't say a word until, "I'm hungry...I think Sandal might have left from Enchantment soup down stairs. Want some?"
"You'll be an inspiration to all future poets," Anders remarked dryly but relaxed when the blonde rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist. Now she had his attention.
"Don't ever leave me, Anders."
"Do you really mean that?" he asked anxiously and placed his hands on her hips trying to swallow his sudden nerves. "Would you have me here, living with you? Would you tell the world, the Knight-Commander, that you're in love with an Apostate and that you'll stand by him?"
Hawke's expression darkened for a moment and absurdly he though she was about to decline him, his worries were unfounded however. "If Meredith wants you she'll have to get through me, and it won't end well for her...Though recently I havebeen thinking she needs a new look; I was thinking something sharp and pointy embedded in her back? What do you think?"
"I think I've just landed the most blood-thirsty woman in Thedas," Anders chuckled and groaned as she ground her hips back against him. "Maker, Marea, already?"
Her eyes gleamed mischievously and Hawke leant down, tucking her hair behind her ear as she settled a toothy smile on him, "What's wrong, old man? Can't keep up?"
Anders growled and quickly flipped them, biting her lower lip gently.
"I'll show you who's an old man."
