Despite having Varric's blessing, more or less, Anders still hesitated to kiss her, to touch her, to do anything more than stare down at the water between them and hold her hand. Hawke wouldn't rush him, but her body was still singing from the brief contact they'd shared and she didn't have the self-control to hold out forever. Hawke wondered if some of his reticence had to do with Justice. He already didn't allow Anders to drink because he saw no point in inebriation. She wasn't sure how Anders would explain something like this to the spirit. Friends finding solace in each other, perhaps? Or maybe there was more at play than even Hawke realized.
"What does Justice have to say about all of this?" she ventured quietly, hoping she wouldn't regret asking.
"Justice...doesn't approve of my obsession with you. He believes you are a distraction," Anders said, confirming Hawke's suspicion that Justice found their situation weird as shit. Even she would have a hard time explaining her and Varric's arrangement to anyone else, especially when she didn't quite understand it herself.
"It's one of the few things in which he and I disagree," Anders said before Hawke could convince herself that he was getting ready to let her down gently. "Are you sure you want me here? You deserve a normal life, not to be tied down to a fugitive with no future. You have something precious, something real with Varric that should be preserved. The last thing I want is to come between that."
Hawke valiantly resisted the urge to tell Anders what, exactly, he could come between if only to prove she was capable of a serious, adult conversation.
"Hawke's a big girl, Blondie," Varric said. "I'm not going to get in the way of something she wants…even if that something happens to be you. No offense. I personally don't get the appeal."
Varric didn't bother holding back his smirk. Unlike Hawke, he wasn't above yanking Anders' chain. She was relieved to see the teasing actually seemed to ease some of the tension Anders was carrying in his shoulders.
"Besides, if you leave now I may kill you," Hawke added, only half-joking.
"I can't say I'd blame you," Anders said with a small smile that faded nearly as quickly as it appeared. "When I was in the Circle, love was only a game. It gave the templars too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose."
"Whatever this is, it isn't a game," Hawke said soberly. She reached out to comb tendrils of damp hair out of Anders' face and left her hand cupped against his cheek. "I care about you, Anders."
"I...care about you too, Hawke."
Hawke thought she might have imagined the slight hesitation in Anders' words like he was keeping himself from saying more. Either way, Anders closed his eyes and leaned into the touch like it was the only thing in the world that mattered…or like she was the only thing that existed. Hawke felt her heart stumble and miss a beat. She was overwhelmed at the thought that somehow, impossibly, two men she cared so much for could feel so strongly about her when she had done nothing to earn this kind of devotion.
When Anders pulled back and looked at her again he didn't seem entirely convinced that this was something they…or she…really wanted to do. Hawke didn't know what else to say to convince him.
"You need some tips, Blondie?" Varric said when the silence went on for too long. He finally looked up at them with a raised eyebrow. Anders breathed out something close to a laugh and shook his head.
"It has been a while, but I think I still remember how this works."
"Then I'll leave you to it. Shout if you run into trouble."
Anders didn't have that far away look he sometimes had when consulting Justice, so maybe it was only anxiety that kept him from bridging that gap between them. Hawke could understand the feeling only too well.
"I'm sure there will be plenty of shouting," Hawke purred with a grin that hopefully concealed her own nerves. "Should we have a safe word?"
"Knickerweasels?" Anders suggested.
"It's supposed to be something you wouldn't say in the heat of the moment. We could go with 'Templars are coming!' or 'Watch out! Meredith!' I'm sure that'll kill any boners."
"On second thought, 'stop' works for me," Anders said.
"Don't tell me you never played the naughty mage and templar with the heart of gold?" Varric said.
For all Hawke knew those letters to the Guild were only a cover-up and he was actually taking notes for his next story. If that was the case, then she hoped they gave him something good to write about.
"With a templar? No," Anders said darkly.
"I can't lie and say I haven't thought about the idea of you naked under those robes. You can tell us. It's actually for the easy access, right?" she said.
Hawke knew they were edging into dangerous territory and sought to pull Anders away from the precipice. To her relief, he ducked his head with a faint smile and squeezed her hand.
"Can't get anything past you," he said.
The banter was gentle and familiar and one of the things she had missed the most. Anders had a wickedly snarky streak when Justice and all the mage-templar business didn't get in the way. She was glad that she hadn't been reading the connection between them wrong.
Hawke let Anders draw her toward him and wound her arms around his neck. He kissed her tentatively at first until the lack of an immediate backlash spurred him into taking more aggressive action. The kiss became quickly heated. Arousal that had been temporarily banked flared anew as Hawke slung her leg over his to straddle his lap as they licked and sucked hungrily at each other's lips.
Anders' hands found anchor holds on her ass while her own gripped his hair to angle their mouths together in a perfect seal. She was intensely aware of his hard length trapped between their bellies and couldn't help rocking against him. She felt the water lap against her as the motions created small waves in the bath. Anders' wet hands slid up her back and splayed flat over her shoulder blades, holding her so close that there was no room for even air to pass between their bodies.
He was so hard that Hawke throbbed in sympathy. All she had to do was lift up and sink back at just the right angle and they would be fucking. She moaned, wanting Anders' cock inside her so badly that she could hardly think of anything else. She knew with absolute certainty that a tongue and fingers were just not going to be enough. She hadn't been ready for Varric to fuck her last time and felt...unfaithful? hypocritical? whorish? for wanting Anders the way she did.
Anders groaned when Hawke forced herself to stop moving. They were both shaking and Hawke was very nearly reaching the point of not caring and taking him anyway. She ripped her mouth away from Anders' and barely had the presence of mind to gasp out, "Varric? Anything you want to say here?"
She was trying desperately to keep from thrusting down on Anders. Her thighs and calves threatened to cramp from holding her body completely still while her vaginal walls squeezed tighter and tighter, aching for him to fill her as deeply as possible.
"Blondie, you want to be a baby daddy? No? Then be sure to pull out. Hawke…" Varric's teasing tone became suffused with all the warmth and love that she surely didn't deserve, "anything else is up to you, sweetheart."
Hawke nearly sobbed and didn't even bother to prepare herself as she moved over Anders. She wasn't expecting the sting of entry as the head of Anders cock breached her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders with a shocked gasp that melted into a moan as she sunk down on him until she bottomed out. Any uncomfortable sensations were instantly translated into pleasure. She didn't wait to adjust before lifting up and slamming back down on him.
"Hawke," Anders gasped, clutching her so forcefully that she almost didn't have room to move.
She clamped down around him making it next to impossible for her to adjust to his size, which was not insubstantial by any means. Every shift was accompanied by a twinge of pain that Hawke soon began to crave with just as much eagerness as the pleasure that washed through her when Anders eased up enough to let her move.
He sucked a trail of kisses down her neck until he latched onto the curve of her shoulder with his teeth. He applied just enough force to make Hawke cry out and rock harder against him, splashing water everywhere. She imagined Corff would have something to say about them flooding Varric's suite, but there was a drain installed next to the tub for the water such purposes.
Hawke lost herself to the thrill of fucking Anders for all she was worth, months of flirting and possible repression coming to an explosive head. She closed her eyes and let nothing else except the pivotal junction where their bodies connected direct her thoughts. Anders held her just a little too hard but his hands and lips on her body were worshipful. All of it was exactly what Hawke needed and she moaned as wantonly as any whore.
"Mmm...ah..." Hawke's head fell back with a groan of pleasure as she felt a sharp bite to her left nipple while fingers pinched and tugged at her right one. Hawke had to crack open her eyes and glance down to remember who she was fucking. "Ah...Anders!"
She didn't know if Varric was watching them or if he found this display as arousing as he had when she and Isabela were together. She hoped he was and that he did. It felt so fucking good riding Anders, especially at the current angle that ground her clit against his pubic bone on each thrust. Her movements became tighter and faster as she whined and clutched at him, already feeling herself approaching orgasm without any other stimulation needed.
Knowing that Anders was here and, in this moment, hers, was enough.
"Nnh... Tell me when you're close," Hawke panted against Anders' ear before she caught sight of the small gold hoop in his lobe and nibbled on that for a bit.
"Keep going," Anders rasped out, gripping her waist and lifting his hips up to meet her.
Hawke was pretty sure she felt herself falling in love a little bit.
Her knees were becoming raw from scraping against the bottom of the tub, but she'd become used to having chronically scabby knees when she was younger and still growing into her coltish limbs. Now, her knees got their wear and tear from activities much more adventurous than tripping over her own feet. She was positive Isabela would have something vulgar - and entirely accurate - to say about that.
Hawke would have endured so much more discomfort for the promise of several more hours of this, but she was barely holding on as it was. Anders' skin was wet and slippery and she had to dig her fingers into his shoulders to find the leverage to take him as deep as physically possible. She had no control over the noises she was making but only half of her oxygen intake was spared for actual breaths.
Hawke buried her face against his throat and ravaged the skin there with her teeth and lips. She didn't realize how close she was until she nearly took a chunk out of him with the force of her orgasm slamming through her. The thought of marking him so visibly felt almost as good as coming did. Half the water had spilled out of the tub by the time Hawke managed to work herself through the aftershocks, shuddering and licking the deep imprint of her teeth on his neck with a possessive, contented hum. He was still hard inside her so Hawke didn't stop moving entirely even if she was a little too sensitive to go again right away.
"How would you feel about moving this to the bed?" Hawke murmured, nuzzling the spot behind his ear that made him shiver. Her voice sounded low and hoarse like he'd been fucking her throat instead. She found herself craving his cock in her mouth and feeling him spend down her throat with an intensity that nearly overwhelmed her.
Rather than answer, Anders slid his hands down to grip her thighs and stood up in a single, fluid motion as water streamed down their bodies. Hawke startled and clung to him with her arms and legs. The movement unseated her from his cock, but he didn't seem to notice as he kissed her feverishly, stealing her breath away. He let her legs slide down until she was standing on her own, but he kept his arms locked around her waist to support her suddenly shaky knees.
Hawke actually had to stretch up onto the balls of her feet to maintain the connection between their lips. The unusual experience of kissing someone her own size made her laugh. As a result, Anders ended up kissing her teeth which caused them both to grin and clack their teeth together.
Anders took her hand and escorted her out of the tub like it was a chariot. They toweled off briskly but became distracted when the desire to consume each other's faces again became too overwhelming to resist. Hawke took his bottom lip into her mouth and sucked gently before worrying tiny hurts into the soft, slick flesh with her teeth. The towels fell to the floor, forgotten. Hawke shivered as they pressed together from tongues to toes. Her toes wanted to curl at the sensation of Anders' damp skin against hers without the water acting as a buffer. His clean hair was soft and fluffy and she raked her fingers through it again and again until it crackled with static discharge.
"Mm. Show me the electricity thing?" Hawke asked, suddenly reminded of Anders' rumored talents. "I've never done it with a mage before."
She was curious about what Anders was capable of and trusted him even if they'd technically only known each other a few short months. However, that time had been so concentrated, every single moment spent together or at least within sight of each other that Hawke doubted she knew her own sister so well. Hawke had rarely forged a connection so quickly or deeply before and she felt like she had known him for years. Fenris, on the other hand, remained an enigma save for the way he hated Danarius, hated mages, tolerated Hawke and their friends, and enjoyed wine and ripping out people's hearts. Hawke didn't know if he would have agreed to come even if she had found him alone in his mansion.
She and Anders had seen each other at their worst and most vulnerable, yet here they were. Hopefully, his opinion of her would only go up from there.
"Maker, yes," he breathed, sounding very nearly reverent.
His cock was attempting to drill its way inside of her through her bellybutton but he didn't seem in any rush to hurry things along. He kissed and touched her all over and their hollow bird bones knocked painfully together without a scrap of padding between them. Hawke cherished each bruise until Anders kissed away the marks he'd made with a faint tingle of magic.
"Don't," Hawke begged when Anders healed the imprint of his teeth against her collarbone. "Let me feel you."
Anders eyes when he looked at her were dark and unfathomable. He gave no warning when he surged up to kiss her, crashing his mouth roughly against hers. Hawke moaned approvingly and used his hair as reins to keep his mouth against hers while she took her fill of him. She tasted frost on her tongue and when he pulled back their breath misted out between them. Hawke's eyes widened and she let out an incredulous laugh.
"You didn't tell me you had an ice thing, too!"
"How terribly remiss of me," Anders said in-between kisses down her chin and throat, marking a path that reminded her of Fenris' lyrium markings.
Hawke's nipples puckered in anticipation and hardened like diamonds when Anders reached her chest. He traced his tongue around one nipple, laving it wet before breathing frost over the peaked nub. Hawke shivered and gripped his shoulders when he repeated the action on the other side and flicked the frozen bit of skin with his tongue - a strangely thrilling sensation.
When he returned to the first nipple, Hawke expected him to repeat this process, but instead his mouth was hot like a furnace when he closed his lips around her. Hawke felt like she was melting, like her nipple would actually slide off her chest and they'd have to scour the floor to find it again. Anders' little trick had her sex melting as well. She was so wet that she was almost certain the puddle forming beneath her had nothing to do with the bath.
He left an alternating trail of hot and cold kisses up her body when she tugged on his hair. His lips found hers again and burned her mouth, scalding her until she matched the sweltering temperature of his tongue and they melted together. She couldn't wait to feel his tongue in other places. Hawke almost wouldn't believe they'd had sex already were it not for the ache between her legs. She wanted to take her time with him, commit every moan, every shiver to memory.
She rested her hands against his chest when she broke their kiss so he wouldn't chase her down. She didn't have any magic of her own but he still shivered under her touch when she mouthed her way down his body, lingering over his nipples until they were as hard and red as his cock.
He gasped when she sunk to her knees in front of him, heedless of the stone tiles pressing into her sore joints. She chewed on the thin skin over the jut of his hipbone and nuzzled the coarse hairs between his legs as his cock leaked against her cheek. He was longer but thinner than Varric in all proportions and still tasted like her when Hawke took him into her mouth. He cried out and his knees nearly buckled, but Hawke held onto him by the backs of his thighs and didn't protest when he grabbed fistfuls of her hair for balance. She didn't try to surprise or impress him with any neat tricks, instead providing a warm, wet suction as she bobbed her head back and forth in shallow motions.
By the sounds he was making, one would think Hawke was a desire demon whose sole purpose was to tempt Anders over to the dark side. In a way, she probably was.
Hawke watched him through her lashes and he stared back at her like he couldn't believe she was real. His grip on her eased until he was cradling the back of her head. He followed the motions she was making without forcing her to move faster or take him deeper. Hawke lost track of how long she was down there but Anders' continuous moans were incentive to keep going, so she did. She finally pulled off with a wet pop when her jaw began to ache and he sagged, open-mouthed and breathless.
"Andraste's knickerweasels," he said, staring at her mouth.
"Knickerweasels? You really want me to stop?" Hawke said. She affected a pout and brushed her swollen bottom lip against the head of Anders' cock when it bobbed in her face.
"You're right. That was a terrible safe word. Forget everything I said," he groaned.
"Forgotten," Hawke promised. "But…you're going to have to make it up to me."
Anders looked both intrigued and disturbed.
"How so?"
"Hmm," Hawke hummed and pretended to consider as she stuck a finger into her mouth and sucked on it like she had his cock.
His eyes went dark and hungry and she could feel the flex of his thigh beneath her hand still curled around the back of his leg. She slowly slid her hand up, loving the crinkle of hair against her palm until it gave way to the smooth skin over his ass. She gave him a firm squeeze and his cock jumped in response, wet from her saliva and his own slick.
"Hawke," he rasped out when she gave him another squeeze, fingers moving closer to the place Varric had dubbed "no man's land."
Anders spread his legs at her gentle nudging and moaned a protest when she let his ass go. She lifted his cock and balls out of the way and rubbed her wet finger against the strip of skin behind his scrotum. Anders locked his knees to keep from falling and shifted his hips forward for more. Apparently, it was some men's land after all. She kissed the crease of his thigh and massaged him with both hands, teasing closer and closer to his hole until his heel slipped and he nearly overbalanced. Hawke quickly let him go before she did any lasting damage and Anders sighed at the loss.
"Bed?" Hawke suggested.
"Bed," Anders agreed fervently.
Hawke kissed the tip of his cock and he helped her up without needing to ask. She took a few hobbling steps toward the bed and worked out the kinks in her knees. She was only twenty-four but it was times like this she felt ancient. She'd have to insist Varric shoot her if she started to complain about her back or the trouble with youths these days.
Hawke arranged the numerous pillows on Varric's bed against the headboard so Anders could sit up while Hawke sprawled out on her stomach between his legs. She curled her hand around the base of his cock and resumed sucking him once they were both comfortable. She took her time, unhurried with one orgasm already under her belt. Hawke could probably do this for hours, keeping him on the edge while she alternated stroking him with her hand, sucking kisses up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, and taking him far enough into her mouth that he brushed the back of her throat before beginning the cycle anew.
Anders had to be close to physical pain by that point, but he didn't complain. He carded his fingers through her hair and gently traced her lashes and the corners of her mouth with his thumbs.
Hawke moaned softly as she sucked and slurped on him. Her mouth flooded with so much saliva that she only had to swipe her finger in the mess of drool before she returned to playing with the tight pucker behind his balls. She didn't try and force her way inside but she took the way he sunk against the cushions and made an effort to relax as permission to dip the very tip of her finger in and out of him. She was missing the nail on her index finger but it wasn't like she had talons like the Arishok to begin with. Varric had filed down the rest of her nails so she didn't run the risk of scratching him when she pressed a second finger against him and massaged in a circular motion.
It must have been too much because Anders reached down and pulled Hawke's hand away from his backside. She made a sound of disappointment until he murmured a spell under his breath and Hawke's fingers were suddenly slippery with grease.
"So that's what that spell's really for," Hawke exclaimed as she shoved up onto her elbows and rubbed her fingers together thoughtfully. "I thought you said it makes darkspawn more flammable, but really you were just lubing them up first. I had no idea you were so kinky, Anders!"
"I can tell you this with utmost confidence: The mages who learned this particular spell in the Circle were often the most popular. You can bet I was at the top of my class," Anders said with no small amount of pride.
"Let's see if I can get top marks," Hawke said with a lascivious waggle of her eyebrows.
"She's doing that eyebrow thing, isn't she?" Varric said from behind them.
"Yes. It's like two caterpillars attempting to take flight off her face," Anders confirmed, smiling with hopeless affection.
Hawke slapped his thigh with her slick fingers and Varric snorted, "Nice."
"Caterpillars turn into butterflies, I'll have you know," Hawke said primly as she wrapped her hand around the base of Anders' cock and squeezed.
He arched his hips with a gratifying gasp. "As you say, Butterfly."
In no time at all, Hawke had him pinned like an insect to a corkboard with only her mouth and fingers. Anders was wonderfully responsive, shaking and moaning when Hawke took him deep into her throat and thrust her fingers against his prostate relentlessly.
She fucked him with a strength she didn't know she still had. She powered through her shoulders and torso until he had to grip the headboard to keep from giving himself a concussion. He dug his heels into the mattress and came with a throaty groan just when Hawke's arm started to tire. She swallowed around him, filling her already full belly with his spend even if any nutritional benefits were wasted on her at this point. She held him loosely in her mouth when the last pulses trickled into faint twitches and she left her fingers buried to the hilt. She let him recover at his own pace without pulling away too soon or over-stimulating him. He released the headboard with a sigh and nodded when he was done.
"Okay?" Hawke asked as she carefully pulled out of him and wiped her fingers off on the sheets.
The glazed cast over Anders' eyes and the flush in his cheeks was answer enough.
"You are a wonder, Hawke," Anders breathed when he found his voice again. He reached out to brush a smear of moisture from her chin and gave her a smile that was just shy of enamored. "Thank you. Yes, that was…better than I could have ever imagined."
"Imagined that quite a bit, did you?"
"I have lain awake every night aching for you...and hating myself because I know your heart belongs to another. I'm still terrified that I'll wake up."
"There's room in this bed for all three of us," Hawke said softly.
"Unless you snore," Varric stipulated like he didn't spend just as much time sharing a bedroll with Anders in the Deep Roads as she had.
"I…appreciate that. More than you know."
It wasn't a yes, exactly, but he didn't give the impression that he regretted what had transpired between them. If anything, he seemed interested in more - if his still-hard cock was any indication.
"Wow. Wardens, huh," Hawke said, tracing her finger along the length of his shaft.
"One of the few benefits. If you're not too tired, we could…"
"Electricity thing?" Hawke asked breathlessly.
"Electricity thing," Anders laughed.
Hawke lunged upward and kissed him. They ended up in a tangle of limbs and sheets in a reversal of their previous positions by the time they came up for air. Hawke spread her legs and cradled his hips between her knees as Anders carefully rested his weight on top of her. She hadn't realized how used to dwarf proportions she was until the underside of his cock snugged up right against her folds, nestling itself within the damp curls. All he would have to do was adjust his angle slightly and he'd slide right inside without any effort or resistance at all.
The urge to throw away caution and work her hips up that extra inch or two was almost overwhelming. She was easily distracted and didn't know if she had the willpower to let him go. Anders seemed to sense her wavering resolve and removed temptation without leaving her bereft. He kissed his way back down her body, tracing the dips and sharp-edged valleys. He flicked his tongue into her navel and made her clit pulse when a gentle shock followed immediately after, giving Hawke a preview of what was to come.
"Ah!" she cried out, jackknifing up to curl around his back.
"You might want to hold onto something," Anders warned. Hawke immediately threaded her fingers in his hair but he shook his head with a rueful smile and brushed her hands away. "I'm not ready to go bald yet. Maybe something a little more...sturdy?"
The headboard was always an option - as was demonstrated when Anders had so recently made use of it - but for some reason when she heard the word 'sturdy' she immediately thought 'dwarf'.
Hawke looked up and only then became aware of Varric watching them. He'd hardly said a word and didn't seem inclined to interrupt nor go back to his letters, which had to be boring in comparison. He was partially twisted around in his chair and had his elbow propped on the table while his jaw rested on his fist. He wasn't smiling, exactly, but there was a softness in his expression that smoothed out the harsher lines the Deep Roads had carved into his face.
He was happy, she realized with a second shock that had nothing to do with Anders' magic. Seeing her happy made him happy.
Hawke couldn't even fathom that level of selflessness especially when his lover was in another man's arms. This wasn't at all like the time with Isabela. Hawke didn't feel like she was on display or that this was a no-strings-attached kind of fuck. If anything, she and Anders were making love in a way.
The thought, oddly enough, didn't make her want to run in the opposite direction or punch a dragon in the throat to assert her dominance over any vulnerable feelings she may have been harboring. She wanted to protect Anders, if only from his own self-neglect. He could be fierce and tender and had saved their lives more times than she could count. But he was no different with the vagrants that littered the doorstep of his clinic, taking care of everyone else except for himself.
Hawke curled a hand against Anders' cheek and something in her heart came loose a little when he closed his eyes and nuzzled her palm like a cat. She reached out and beckoned to Varric with the other hand. She didn't look away from Anders' blissful expression when a broad, callous hand squeezed hers gently and she felt Varric brush a kiss against her temple.
Anders froze suddenly when he opened his eyes and saw Varric standing next to the bed. Anders hunched over Hawke's hips very similar to the way Snowflake did when caught with one of Gamlen's shoes that he knew he shouldn't have. Like he knew it was going to be snatched away and resented the fact he was too well-trained to bite. Hawke worried that she had made a mistake. Maybe Anders wasn't as comfortable with having an active audience or sharing as she'd assumed.
Then his shoulders relaxed and he gave Varric a reassured smile.
Hawke understood then; Varric was a sneaky, silent motherfucker when he moved and they were all understandably jumpy after spending so much time constantly on high-alert.
"Is…this okay?" Hawke asked, perhaps more than a little belatedly.
Varric had given her permission to fuck whomever she wanted, but he didn't necessarily mean inviting them into his bed, his space, or her heart for the long term. If Anders was willing to sleep with her then he had to know Varric would still be a part of the equation. She wasn't a…a timeshare, or a port they could dock their dicks into whenever was most convenient. The very real possibility there was a baby on the way was also a factor. While Varric might be content to share her now there was no telling if or how that would change in the future. The last thing she wanted was to hurt either of them when she loved them both so much. Conversation and explanations were not Hawke's strong suit, but thankfully Varric came to her rescue.
"Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but it looks like you could use a hand here, Blondie," he said with a quirk of his eyebrow and lips.
"Are you calling me a handful?" Hawke said. She glared at him and petted Anders' hair at the same time when he didn't pull away.
"Eat a few more of those pastries you like and we'll see," Varric said with an ungentle poke to her ribs.
She caught his finger and pretended to bend it back with a threat of breaking it.
"First, I'm too heavy to sit on your face without smothering you, now there's not enough of me to go around. Make up your mind, dwarf, before you give a girl a complex."
"You will always be more than enough," Varric soothed in that effortless way he had, knocking down all of her walls before they could even form. He leaned down with his finger still caught in her grip and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. And, before Anders could start to look uncomfortable, he reached out to snag the back of his neck and smacked a playful kiss against the side of Anders' head.
"You too, Blondie."
"Thanks so much," Anders said sarcastically, clearly holding back a laugh. "I don't mind if you stay, but I hope you're not wearing that to bed."
"Since when did you become the fashion guard?" Varric asked. He held his blood and dirt-stained coat open and looked down at himself. His tunic and trousers weren't in much better condition.
Hawke knew he preferred to get his sheets dirty the old-fashioned way but he still made a production out of fussing. He removed his boots and clothing, folding each item and laying them down on his writing desk. He glared at the half-eaten cupcake from Aveline that Hawke had abandoned and ate the remainder in one bite. Whoops.
"Keep the glasses," Hawke said when Varric went to take his spectacles off.
His eyebrows shot up but he complied. He pushed the frames back up the bridge of his nose with one finger and gave her a look that meant they had a discussion in their near future. Preferably, one without words.
Varric climbed into bed behind Hawke once she scooted down to give him room. She settled herself against his chest and folded her arms over his when he wrapped them around her torso and nuzzled her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and he obliged, scratching her skin with the stubble that he'd been threatening to shave before soothing the redness with his tongue and lips.
Anders hadn't shaved the entire time they'd been in the Deep Roads and it didn't appear as if he had after they'd gotten back. The growth on his face didn't quite make the cut as an actual beard, but the hair was bristly enough to tickle as he slowly lowered his head back down and grazed his lips over her belly. She loved the play of textures – callused hands, rough stubble, and soft lips all over her body.
"Ready?" he asked when his mouth hovered over her sex.
Hawke's thighs were already quivering with anticipation. She squeezed Varric's forearms so tight that his skin puckered and went white where her fingers dug into muscle and bone.
"Ready," Hawke said with a thin, reedy exhale, not knowing what to expect.
"Hold her," was the only warning Anders gave before he lowered his head and touched her core with the tip of his tongue.
"Ah fuck!" she shouted.
She could brace herself all she wanted but Hawke still wasn't prepared for the literal shock of Anders' tongue against her clit. She clamped down on Varric's arms and slammed back against his chest, yanking away from Anders' mouth even as her hips undulated desperately forward.
"Oh fuck...again..." she panted, pupils blown out and knees falling apart in a desperate plea for more.
The feeling of Anders' mouth alone was nearly enough to send her spiraling over the edge. When he added a low-level vibration that quickly built its way up to an intense charge it was all Varric could do to keep her down while she thrashed and yelled and begged him not to stop. Hawke nearly strangled Anders with her thighs when he pulled back instead, but he gently spread her apart with his fingers and blew a soothing stream of cool air over her overheated folds.
Hawke sobbed, already halfway insane from one touch.
Anders repeated the process when Hawke managed to suck in one full breath before she hyperventilated and passed out. He brought her to the edge again and again with a single zap or short, quick-fire bursts that made her scream until Varric cast an anxious glance toward the door and covered her mouth with his hand. Between the two of them they could barely keep her from writhing and yelling bloody murder, but Hawke didn't care. She was actually surprised that she didn't break Anders' nose, but he seemed prepared for her reactions and kept one forearm barred across her hips to keep her from bucking too hard.
Hawke didn't know if she came or if she ever stopped coming. By the time her cries became real, actual sobs that ripped their way out of her chest she couldn't feel between her legs anymore. She finally begged for knickerweasels or basketnugs or whatever the fuck their safe word was and collapsed in a sprawled out mess in Varric's arms. She heaved for air and every single hair on her body was standing on end. She couldn't make herself let go of Varric's arms and knew she had to be hurting him with how hard she was clenching down. Her fingers were like ice from having lost all blood flow.
Varric didn't seem overly concerned. He pressed kisses and soft words of praise into her hair, ignoring the individual strands that stuck to his cheeks and lips from the electricity that was still working its way out of her body in tiny tremors.
"Ah. Just a second," Anders said and then he was gone after dropping a hasty kiss to Hawke's knee. Hawke didn't know where he went, but he returned almost immediately. He showed her a flat piece of metal that she looked at curiously until he brushed it against the back of her hand.
"Ow, shit!" she and Varric chorused when the metal shocked the fuck out of them. Anders dropped the scrap metal and stuck his fingers in his mouth before he could say as much, too.
"Sorry about that. Probably should have warned you first," Anders mumbled around his fingers.
He pulled his hand away from his mouth and gingerly picked up the metal. It seemed the electrical buildup had discharged itself in one painful jolt, which Hawke supposed was preferable to walking around shocking herself every time she touched a doorknob or shook someone's hand. It still stung like a bitch, though.
"You think?" Varric said sarcastically. He smoothed down the hairs on his arms and rubbed out the imprints of Hawke's fingers before leaning down to brush a cautious kiss across her lips. They both let out a relieved breath when neither of them got shocked again.
Hawke wasn't getting up or moving for the next five years. Anders was still half hard and she could feel Varric's arousal poking her in the back, but her arms and legs and head all felt like lead. She was too tired to even offer face sits and let Varric wipe her down when Anders brought over a towel and a damp flannel for clean up.
"C'mere," Hawke slurred when he hesitated to join them in the bed.
Varric had obviously enjoyed watching Hawke play with Isabela and Anders but hadn't indicated an interest in actually getting involved with anyone other than Hawke. Both men seemed content to ignore their flagging erections like they'd had plenty of practice. The thought that any erections of theirs should go untouched made her inexplicably sad.
They shuffled around until Anders was sandwiched between them in the wet spot. He didn't seem to mind. He settled onto his side with Varric against his back, arm slung over Anders' waist. They were all the same height while lying down with their heads on the pillows. Hawke fitted herself against Anders' front and tucked his head under her chin while they twined their legs together with Varric's.
"Humans. Too many limbs," Varric complained, getting lost in the tangle of arms and legs and bedding.
"We're not octopuses," Hawke said. "Octopi?"
"Pusses," Anders said with such conviction that Hawke sniggered.
They repeated the word "pusses" with an emphasis in different places and increasing vulgarity until Varric made a sound like he was thoroughly done with both of them and threatened to make them sleep on the floor.
"You know…" Anders said and then trailed off without continuing, clamming up instead.
Varric wouldn't even let Hawke get away with that and prodded, "If you've got something to say, just spit it out."
"Are you sure you want to encourage me? I might be about to confess my undying love."
"I get that a lot," Varric said breezily. "So what's on your mind?"
"I just realized none of the gangs in the Undercity came to my door all week. Granted, it hasn't been that long, but usually they're the first ones bullying their way into my clinic demanding to be seen 'or else'."
"They're busy people. Places to go, throats to cut. Maybe you've slipped their minds."
"Right. The apostate running the free clinic in the sewers. Easy to forget. You didn't have anything to do with this?"
"You must have me confused with someone else. I'm just a businessman and a storyteller."
Liar, Hawke thought affectionately.
Anders had learned it was better not to press when Varric decided to remain mum on a subject – a lesson that had yet to sink in with Hawke. She was determined to wear him down one of these days and finally get a straight answer out of him about something. Anything. However, when a yawn cracked her jaw and spread to Anders and then Varric she knew today would not be that day. At least Varric's newfound influence with the Guild or Kirkwall's underbelly was already reaping benefits. She might actually have to sneak a look at some of those letters he was sending out.
Hawke lost track of the thread of conversation, but one minute they were talking and the next Anders passed out mid-sentence. His deep breaths that very nearly qualified as snores drifted up moments later. Hawke and Varric stared at each other over his head and tried to muffle their snickers.
"Yeah… I guess we can keep this one," Varric said softly. He stroked his fingers through Anders' hair and glanced down at him with a self-suffering but affectionate look. "Two humans. Maker fucking preserve me. My mother is rolling over in her grave as we speak."
"Are you sure?"
"As sure as a nug in shit. You don't come from a noble bloodline without hearing about 'descended from Paragon whatshisface' this or 'preserve the line of House Tethras' that. I'm pretty sure if rocks could cry the Stone would be doing so right now."
Hawke thanked the Maker her own mother was nothing like that despite being raised a noblewoman. While Leandra did want the Amell estate back desperately it was only because it was her birthright, her home, and the only thing of value she could leave her children and their descendants after they'd already lost everything in Lothering. Regardless, that wasn't exactly what Hawke meant when she'd asked Varric if he was sure.
"I meant about…" she paused to make sure their newest bedmate was still asleep and whispered, "Anders. We didn't exactly get a chance to discuss how this was going to go. Or where it was going to go."
"I guess that depends on Blondie. Blue might have let him come out to play this time but who's to say he won't become the spiritual equivalent of a cockblock? It's your call whether or not this is something you want as a regular gig. You know I don't mind sharing but I'm drawing the line at cats and refugees lining up outside my door. Corff would kick us all out, besides."
"Why does it always have to be my decision? You should know by now I don't exactly have the best judgment in the world."
"Hawke, I'm not going to tell you who you can and can't love. If Blondie is who you want, and if the feeling is mutual, then we'll find a way to work it out. Try not to get too hung up on the details."
Hawke knew that was easier said than done, but if Varric didn't have any objections then she really didn't have a valid argument. She sighed and went for the obvious subject change.
"I heard that was a common complaint in that one series you hate anyone knowing you wrote. What was it called again? Stones and Sheaths?"
"Swords and Shields," Varric groaned. "Andraste's flaming knickers. I swear those books are going to haunt me to my dying day."
"I'm not much of a reader but now you've got me intrigued," Hawke said with a grin that started to go feral around the edges when Varric made a constipated face.
She would have loved to tease him more but she was honestly, truly exhausted. The kind of exhausted that came from hard work and physical activity and the feeling of a job well done. She snuggled up as close to the both of them as she could possibly get and sighed when Varric removed his spectacles and tugged a blanket over them.
She really liked those spectacles.
When she woke, Hawke found herself rubbing against the first boner she came across without even opening her eyes. She could feel a solid body on either side of her and a tangle of blankets at her feet, which meant she had somehow squirmed her way between Anders and Varric in the middle of the night. She looked and realized poor Varric had been backed to the edge of the bed while she and Anders had claimed all remaining space for themselves. They weren't making a very good start in endearing Varric to humans. He was snuggled up tight against her back and his morning wood poked the crease of her thigh. Hawke didn't think he really minded having his bed invaded by them.
Anders' eyes were still closed and his breathing was deep and even, although at least one part of him was plenty awake. He was facing her which was an unusual but not unwelcome sight to wake up to. In the Deep Roads, he had always made himself the little spoon and kept his back to her front. She probably could have figured out why sooner if she hadn't been so oblivious. She reached down to encircle him with her hand and gave him a few languid strokes. She watched in rapt fascination as his eyes moved beneath his lids and his lips parted with a sigh.
He came awake in degrees. There was less space between his breaths and he shifted his legs restlessly. She hissed when his icy feet brushed her ankles and made a mental note to stop stealing all the blankets in the future. He was cold all over and he automatically sought out her warmth, hips hitching in tiny motions as he shuffled closer to her. His pale eyelashes fluttered and Hawke felt a surge of nervous anticipation as she saw a flash of amber like sunlight striking a glass of whiskey just right when his eyes opened.
His gazed flitted around, still sleep-fogged, before he fixed on her with something akin to shock. The thoughts on his face were so transparent that Hawke wondered if this was what it was like to be Varric. He always seemed to read her like an open book and now Anders was laid bare before her in all sense of the word.
"No, you're not dreaming," Hawke whispered in assurance. She felt her cheeks crease with a smile when he shuddered out a sigh and closed his eyes, sending up a silent prayer to the powers that be that made her heart ache to witness.
She'd probably go to the Void for it, but she kissed him before he could finish whatever missive he'd been drafting to the Maker in his head. She'd become inured to morning breath - among other things – after they'd gone without bathing for two months in the Deep Roads. Fortunately, Anders didn't seem to mind either and kissed her back after only the barest fraction of hesitation. He seemed intent on scouring the sleep from her mouth and she welcomed him eagerly, hand still curled loosely around his cock.
"I want this in me," Hawke said when they came up for air. She leaned her forehead against his and gave him a light but meaningful squeeze. "Both of you," she added when she felt Varric shift behind her.
"It's too early for this shit," Varric grumbled. His voice was all sandpaper and gravel, but he pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade and dragged his hand down her chest, stomach, and thigh in a very purposeful manner so she knew he didn't really mean it.
Hawke had a brief internal struggle on which way to position herself. She didn't want her back to either of them for fear that they'd feel excluded and she wanted to see their faces. She didn't think there was a way to see them both at the same time without a level of contortionism that was completely beyond her basic athletic abilities.
"Should we flip a coin to see who's on top?" Hawke suggested.
"I'm fine with lying here," Varric said as he rolled onto his back away from the edge of the bed. He scratched idly at the trail of hair leading down his belly before encircling his cock with one hand and giving himself a slow stroke from root to tip.
"Lazy," Hawke murmured, but she was watching his fingers with a feeling like hunger growing in the pit of her stomach. Maker, she didn't care who was on top. All she wanted was both of them inside her. Now.
Decision made, Hawke mounted his legs and climbed aboard. Varric quickly got with the program and held the base of his cock steady for her as she worked herself down on him while hurrying not to rush. He was so thick and the stretch ached so good even after she'd been fucked by Anders.
"It's not queer if our balls touch, Blondie," Varric joked, inviting him over with a beckoning curl of his fingers.
"I thought I wasn't your type?" Anders said as he knelt behind Hawke and looked down at Varric over her shoulder.
"Don't worry. He says that to all the humans he wants to fuck," Hawke told him.
"I do not!" Varric protested. Hawke raised an incredulous eyebrow and he relented. "Fine. Blondie, there's oil in that top drawer there. Use it to open Hawke up for you."
Hawke's inner walls squeezed in anticipation and Varric hissed, tapping out on her thigh while Anders went to retrieve the oil.
"Take it easy, sweetheart, or this ride isn't going to last long. Not a Warden, remember?"
"You're really going to let Anders show you up?" Hawke taunted, flexing again just to watch him squirm.
"Fuck. I might not have a choice. You have any idea how good you look right now? Damn, Hawke."
"Oh hush," Hawke said, flushing. She looked away but eased her tight grip on him. He relaxed with a sigh and patted her hip gratefully.
Anders returned with the vial of sweet almond oil Varric kept at his bedside for "moisturizing purposes." Hawke teased that his cock was the only part of him that wasn't ashy. They barely had a month left in the year and the Free Marches were bitterly cold and dry this close to winter. Hawke felt plenty warm when Anders curled an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss against her neck.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Mm," Hawke moaned her agreement and stretched into the kiss, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair to keep his lips there.
Anders dropped the unopened vial onto the mattress where it immediately got lost among the bedding and stroked his hands across her ribs to cup the scant handfuls of her breasts. Hawke moaned softly and let go of Anders to brace her hands against Varric's chest and used his thick chest hair as an anchor. She lifted off of Varric's cock so he didn't come too soon and hovered over him on her hands and knees so Anders had better access.
Anders rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and kissed his way down her spine. Hawke arched her back and vocalized encouragement when Anders tongued the divots of her tailbone and kept going lower. Varric's hands replaced Anders' on her chest and he smirked up at her when Anders held her open and breathed a stream of icy air over her opening.
"Fuck!" Hawke cried out and pitched forward, but Varric and Anders' hands kept her pinned in place. She was helpless to do anything except take it.
Hawke's arms and legs wobbled and threatened to dump her on top of Varric when Anders alternated his ice breath with swipes of his tongue that was as hot as a brand. If he used the electricity thing on her too, then Hawke was done. She probably wouldn't even be alive at that point. She barely noticed when he started working his fingers into her, his slick fingers, until he was already two deep.
Ah, right. Grease spell. She'd forgotten.
…Hawke had never loved magic more.
By the time Hawke felt like she couldn't take not being fucked any longer, Anders was working three of his long fingers in and out of her ass. She was positively dripping out of all of her orifices. She might have even drooled on Varric's forehead a bit.
"I can't..." she gasped, thrusting her hips helplessly. "Now. Fuck me now. Now now now," she chanted, nearly a sob.
"It's okay, babe. We got you," Varric promised as he rested a hand against the back of her neck and brought her down for a kiss.
Hawke warbled out a piteous moan and thrust her ass into the air, silently begging to be taken before she lost her mind. Anders removed his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock. He didn't take her to the hilt like she wanted; instead, he worked himself deeper and deeper in incremental measures until she felt his balls snug up against her ass.
Oh, Maker, she was so full and she still had to fit Varric inside her as well.
"Why don't you two get a head start? That way we have a more even playing field," Varric suggested, not looking away from whatever stupid expression was on Hawke's face that he seemed to find so enthralling.
"You'd better not be chickening out, dwarf," Hawke gasped as Anders slammed into her so hard that he had to grab her hips to pull her back onto his cock. She whined and wrapped her arms around Varric's torso as she hid her face against his chest and resisted the urge to bite down. He would complain for the rest of their lives if she tore out a single strand of his chest hair. She carefully kept her hands and teeth to herself.
"I'm not ashamed to admit I might need a handicap in this case. Don't worry. I'll catch up. Blondie, you'd better take care of my girl."
"Always," Anders promised before he buried his face between Hawke's shoulder blades and really started fucking her.
Hawke sobbed breathlessly and she sought out Varric's mouth, kissing him with a desperation wrought of want and arousal. She thrilled at the novelty of being able to kiss him while being fucked at the same time. Their height difference usually only allowed for one or the other and she was loving this set up already. Hawke arched her back and pushed against Anders' cock while she shoved her tongue into Varric's mouth. She whimpered as he twined his dexterous organ around hers before sucking on her tongue like it was a smaller version of a cock.
She'd tease him about not being into that sort of thing except his hand found its way between her legs. She lost all train of thought as he slid two thick, blunt fingers into her and started fucking her in counterpoint to Anders' movements. He got a thumb on her clit and Hawke didn't even have room to shout when climax rolled through her body without warning.
"Ah, ah!" Hawke cried out, wrenching her mouth away from Varric's. She clamped down so tightly that Anders swore and collapsed against her back, stilling all movements of his hips.
"I'm pretty sure she could crack walnuts if she wanted to," Varric said as Hawke fluttered around his fingers and Anders' cock.
Anders snorted out a helpless, messy laugh against Hawke's shoulder and wrapped both arms around her waist. "I will never look at bar nuts the same way again."
"Whose nuts are you looking at?" Hawke panted.
She didn't know what Anders did with his right hand, but it suddenly disappeared and Varric's eyes went wide as he choked out a strangled, "B-Blondie!"
"Are you ready for us, Hawke?" Anders said. His voice dipped into deep, rumbling registers that sent sparks that may or may not have been actual electricity racing up and down her spine.
"Maker, please," Hawke begged, already beginning to move again.
"Shh," Varric soothed as he slipped his wet fingers out of her and swiped them down his length. Hawke felt his cock being held steady against her lips and she didn't even care who was doing the holding as she spread her knees apart and sunk down on him as much as she could without dislodging Anders.
They took a while to find their rhythm, but once they did... Oh. It really was magic.
Hawke closed her eyes and allowed herself to be buffeted between them without resisting wherever the tide wanted to pull her. She had never felt so full, so turned on. She almost couldn't feel the drag of Varric's cock pumping in and out of her because she was so wet. The lack of friction undoubtedly kept him from coming too soon, but when she looked he was red-faced and sweating with a Herculean effort not to release before Anders did.
That competitive motherfucker.
Hawke choked out a laugh and Varric blinked open his eyes in confusion. His expression went soft and soppy the second he looked at her. He cupped a hand against her cheek and kissed her forehead, her nose, and lingered on her lips. His smile overlapped her own perfectly. She wanted so badly for them both to come inside her, to fill her up with their seed until she was bursting, but her days of questionable judgment had to come to an end sooner or later.
"Close?" she murmured against Varric's lips. She ground back against both him and Anders when he started to protest and he relented with a sigh.
"Dammit. Yes."
"Me too," Anders said, cheek brushing against Hawke's as he joined their little party.
"Oh, thank fuck." Varric heaved out a relieved gust of air that made both his partners laugh. "How do you want to do this, Hawke?"
"...Come on me," Hawke said. She nearly changed the 'o' to an 'i' but she managed to resist at the very last second.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Hawke dragged it out for as long as she could. She humped them both with wild abandon, but all too soon Varric had to hold her back with one hand on her hip as the other moved frantically over his cock in a blur. She was torn between watching his face and watching his hand as he tipped his head back and came with a nearly-silent gasp. His release hit her belly and streaked over his chest, beading in the hairs and on his sweat-damp muscles.
Hawke ducked down to clean him with her tongue and Anders sped up with a groan. The sound of their bodies slapping together was obscenely loud until he suddenly pulled out of her and grunted. Ropes of come burned the skin over her ass and lower back. She felt each pulse even if she couldn't see it. Anders was breathing heavily as he slowly lowered himself against Hawke's back without care for the mess…or crushing Varric, apparently.
"You've got to be kidding me," Varric groaned, trying and failing to wiggle out from beneath their combined weight.
Hawke laughed and buried her face against Varric's shoulder as she moved her thigh so she wasn't crushing anything valuable. She heard a wet smack next to her ear and turned her head to see Anders kissing Varric's forehead.
Varric sputtered out a laugh and pushed Anders' face away. "Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, Blondie."
Despite being a joke, Anders looked so stunned, so honestly touched by his words that even Varric looked uncomfortable.
"Don't let it go to your head or anything," Varric blustered. "I love long walks on the beach and curling up in front of a fire with a good book, too."
"You hate long walks - especially on the beach," Hawke pointed out. "You always complain about sand getting in your boots and into Bianca's fussy bits."
"I swear to the blighted Paragons, Hawke..."
Hawke laughed, too loud and too bright for this warm cocoon of intimacy she'd found herself bundled up in, but neither Varric nor Anders seemed to mind. When Varric was well and truly in danger of passing out from oxygen deprivation, they climbed out of bed and crowded into the tub together as Anders heated them a bath. They splashed around as Hawke was passed back and forth between their laps exchanging kisses until they all tasted exactly the same. Hawke's cheeks stung from beard burn and the smile that refused to go away.
Varric pulled on a housecoat and went downstairs while she and Anders dried each other off and made out. He returned with a tray of breakfast foods that the three of them demolished in bed. It was a little chilly in the room and Hawke had put on one of Varric's silk robes, though a glance at the fireplace from Anders was enough to get the fire roaring merrily again. She still worried that he was going to burn himself out, but Anders seemed so much better than he had been when she'd gone to him in his clinic. They all carried scars from the Deep Roads - many of them healed by Anders' magic - but some went so deep that only time, or deep-rooted denial, would even begin to smooth them over.
"I wish I could stay, but I really must see to my patients," Anders said apologetically after breakfast, kissing the jam from Hawke's lips and fingertips when she whined a protest. "This truly was the best day I've ever had in my life. I can't thank either of you enough for sharing all of this with me."
Varric ruffled his hair and said, "Don't be a stranger, Blondie."
Hawke curled up in Varric's arms and watched with a maudlin feeling of longing as Anders got dressed. He really did wear nothing underneath those robes of his but even that useful information wasn't enough to cheer her up again. She had to suppress the violent urge to rip Anders' clothing off and pitch his coat and robes into the fireplace, forcing him to stay where she could keep an eye on him.
Hawke pulled away and knelt up on the edge of the bed as Anders searched around for his staff and satchel, almost ready to leave. Who knew how long he would be gone, or if he'd ever return?
"You'll come back, right?" Hawke asked, unreasonably afraid to let him out of her sight.
If this was how Varric felt about her, worrying that she would work herself to death or forget to eat or was cold or lonely or a million other terrible things then she wasn't sure she wanted it. Except that she knew she did…so much.
Anders gave her a small but achingly tender smile. He caught the edges of her robe and pulled them together, preserving her modesty even though they all knew that was a lost cause. She'd lost the belt somewhere, which was a shame because Hawke was already having thoughts of getting her wrists tied to the headboard while being speared between the two of them.
"I wouldn't miss Wicked Grace night for the world," Anders said gently, locking his eyes with hers like he was willing her to understand.
Anders' words doused Hawke like a cold bucket of water and put a stop to her fantasies. If she wasn't certain before, she definitely heard his answer in the chaste, familial kiss he pressed against her forehead. She had to fight the urge to cry as she clutched at the front of his coat before forcing herself to slowly, reluctantly let him go.
He had made his choice, or Justice had, and she had to respect his decision even if she didn't agree.
"Before I forget. May I?"
Anders dropped the edges of her robe and hovered a hand over her belly. There was actually a very slight curve to it now, though it could be attributed to all the food she'd eaten the past two days. Still, Hawke pooched her stomach out purposefully, fitting the swell to the curve of Anders' palm. She felt his magic as a faint tingle that spread between her legs and up through her chest and back down again to center between her hips.
She watched him intently but she couldn't read his expression as he closed his eyes and focused. Anders' face was so carefully neutral that Hawke may as well give him all the coin he was going to win off her at Wicked Grace now. Several minutes passed before Anders opened his eyes and let his hand fall away, taking his magic and all the warmth away with him.
"Your next cycle will confirm it…but you're not pregnant, Hawke," Anders said softly like he didn't know whether to offer condolences or congratulations.
Hawke stared at him uncomprehendingly.
She hadn't known how much she did and did not want children until that very moment. Until it was no longer a possibility. She might be financially secure now and soon be the proud new owner of her very own Hightown estate, but raising a kid took so much more than making sure they food and clothes and a roof over their head. The biggest part was teaching them to be decent human beings...or halflings, or whatever they were called when one parent was a dwarf.
A decent person then. Hawke didn't have the first clue how not to fuck something like that up.
On the other hand, she might have…just maybe…bought into the idea of having that white picket fence life with Varric. She could see them filling a house with puppies and children, maybe even Anders' children too, noise and chaos at every turn. Varric could still write his books while bouncing a baby on his knee. Hawke had the freedom to choose between staying home or going out to help those people around Kirkwall that needed helping. She knew her friends would support her either way.
It was only her and Leandra and Bethany now and nothing would ever replace Carver or Father. She should have known that rebuilding the Hawke family one addition at a time was a ridiculous notion that she had no business having. She was only glad she hadn't said anything to her mother and gotten Leandra's hopes up, too.
Hawke sagged back onto her heels with a sound like she was deflating. She blinked unseeingly at Anders' chest, at the livid bite mark on his throat, not sure how she should feel. She was strangely empty. Like all the fear and anxiety and wonder that had been growing inside her belly was just…gone. Hawke exhaled and felt like a snake shedding its skin, sloughing off layers of herself until she was raw and vulnerable underneath.
Anders had broken her heart twice in the span of minutes. She didn't say a word or try to stop him as he gazed at them sadly, gathered his things, and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Hawke…" Varric started to say, but that was it. Just her name, like he was at a loss for words.
Despite his best efforts, Hawke could see the disappointment bleed through his usual careful mask when she looked over at him. And, Maker, didn't that just burn? She ached at the thought of being a disappointment to Varric, to the one person whose opinion mattered most to her.
"I need to go," Hawke said.
Varric made a startled sound of protest and reached out for her but Hawke got up and moved away before he made contact.
"I need to see my family especially if there are insane templars out there turning mages Tranquil and darkspawn popping up out of the woods. I shouldn't have been away for so long. Anything could have happened to Bethany."
"I'll come with you," Varric said, starting to get up as well.
"Don't," Hawke said so harshly that Varric sat right back down and stared at her. Hawke lowered her eyes and turned away. She folded the robe she'd borrowed just for something to do with her hands. "Don't follow me, Varric. I…need some space. Some time to think, all right?"
"Hawke, I really don't think—"
"You promised," Hawke hissed, dropping the robe to point an accusing finger at Varric. "'Whatever you need.' Isn't that what you said? And I'm telling you I need to be alone. So just…fuck off."
Hawke knew she was being needlessly cruel but distress, it seemed, made her reckless, boiling her down to the bare bones that were ugly and rotting on the inside. Anger was the only thing keeping the tears and devastation at bay, so she clung to her rage like the only tether keeping her from being swept out to sea. Maybe this would be the last straw that broke through whatever rosy filter Varric saw her through and he could finally see her for who she really was – someone who was impatient, moody, short-tempered, impulsive, and violent.
She wasn't fit to be anyone's lover or mother and the sooner he realized that the better off he would be.
Varric didn't try to stop her as Hawke rushed through getting dressed. She jammed her feet into her boots without socks and knotted the laces rather than tying them just so she could go. The more time she lingered in Varric's room the less oxygen there seemed to be. She didn't know how long she would be away or when, if ever, she would be back. She kicked at the locked chest containing their packs in frustration when it refused to budge and swore.
"Don't," Varric said sharply, anger finally leeching through his usual calm. "Unless you want to blow your foot off."
"Then open this fucking thing so I can get out of your hair. I need to get out of here."
Varric raked a hand through his unbound hair like he really could dislodge her so easily and blew out a breath. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his key and set of lockpicks from a hollowed out book on his shelf. Elfroot and 101 Indigenous Weeds, by the looks of it. The longer he took the more Hawke wanted to bash his head against the chest and run. She wrapped her arms around her torso and clenched her teeth instead as she directed her anger inward where it belonged.
Finally, Varric popped the lid open and stood back. He didn't look at her as Hawke upended the contents of one pack and hastily stuffed her Hightown purchases into it. She also grabbed a few pieces of jewelry with Leandra and Bethany in mind, her coin purse, and even a handful of imperfect gems for Gamlen that he'd no doubt spend on drink and whores. She left the rest for Varric to do with as he would. Hawke had survived her entire life on much less.
Hawke didn't kiss him or touch him or spare the room one last lingering look as she slammed through the door and down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. She stumbled on the last step and rammed her stomach against the edge of a table as she tried to catch herself. A shot of terror went through her until she remembered that it didn't matter anymore. She could be stabbed in the gut and it wouldn't matter.
Hawke barely made it out of the tavern before she doubled over and vomited on the sidewalk, choking back her sobs at the same time.
"Rough night, eh?" an old man sitting in a heap of rags said sympathetically as he leaned out of splash range. He blinked, bleary-eyed and boozy, at her as he lifted the tin he'd been using to beg for change to his lips and tried to take a swig. Coppers rattled against his rotten, yellow teeth and Hawke shuddered.
"You have no idea."
She spit and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth as she tried to get a hold of herself. She fished out the first coin her fingers found in her pocket and dropped it into the vagrant's tin without looking. Whatever the denomination, it was enough to make the man's eyes bug out and gaze up at her with a mixture of rapture and suspicion.
Hawke turned on her heel and strode away, putting as much distance between her and the Hanged Man as quickly as possible. She reached the slums much faster than she'd anticipated without even considering what she was going to say to her family.
Hawke stared up at the stairs leading up to Gamlen's house and lingered at the base as she tugged fitfully on the straps to her pack. It was so much lighter than it had been filled to the brim with treasure, but it kept her feet anchored to the ground all the same. Hawke waffled over that first step and wondered if maybe she shouldn't pop in at the Alienage first and say hello to Merrill? Or Aveline? Or anywhere except here or the Hanged Man.
Hawke didn't get the chance to chicken out when she heard frantic barking and the scrabble of sharp claws against the wooden door.
"What is it, boy? Who's there?" Hawke heard Leandra say. Her mother's tone, wary and fearful, decided Hawke before she even knew her feet were moving.
Hawke's knuckles rapped against the door and Snowflake's barks became wild and high-pitched, drowning out whatever Leandra said next. Hawke drummed her fingers against her thighs and bounced on her heels as she waited for the rusty screech of a bolt being unlocked. She forced a smile onto her face as the door swung open.
And so returns the prodigal daughter, Hawke thought, her smile taking a wry twist when Leandra's eyes widened with shock. Snowflake nearly bowled them both over as he yelped overexcited puppy cries and bounded in a circle around her.
"Marian!" Leandra uttered a soft scream and clapped her hands to her mouth. She quickly pulled Hawke into a fierce, hard hug and dragged her into the house in the same motion.
"You're back! Oh, my baby. How I've missed you!" Leandra cried.
Hawke felt tears of joy and relief pricking her own eyes as she laughed and hugged her mother back.
"I know. Me too," Hawke said. "I-"
"Oh, Marian," Leandra said and Hawke realized her weeping had taken on a distinctly mournful edge. "They took her! Templars took Bethany!"
Hawke's pack dropped to the floor. Gold and jewels spilled out, forgotten.
"Who? When?" she demanded. Her voice went hard and cold as she gripped Leandra by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake. Snowflake danced in place at her heels but he ducked guiltily, ears flat and tail nub directly pointed at the ground, when Hawke rounded on him. "You were supposed to protect her!"
"Don't blame Snowflake. Bethany said she wanted to go. The templars came a month after you left. They promised not to chain her up or arrest us if she came peacefully. I still can't believe Bethany would want to go to that awful place."
"Who took her?" Hawke snarled. She would gladly be imprisoned in Bethany's place if that meant her sister was safe and free. It was only a small relief that she couldn't have prevented Bethany from being taken if only she'd gone home sooner rather than hiding away at Varric's.
"Please don't do anything, Marian," Leandra said, wringing her hands together. "It was… It was Ser Cullen. He came to take Bethany away."
Hawke let go of her mother and turned to walk right back out the door, stepping over her pack without sparing it a second thought. She snapped her fingers at Snowflake when he tried to follow and growled, "Stay."
He whimpered and crouched flat on the floor.
"What are you going to do?" Leandra cried, holding onto the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping her up.
Hawke glanced back once, fire racing through her veins.
"I'm going to get my sister back."