Part 28: many people ask for another round in this chapter and Anders finally gets a part of the fun.

'Do it again,' murmured Isabela. Her eyes were closed and her face was clicked shut in the Take Me to the Moon mode. Now and again her body was shuddering in the aftermath of – well, several other heavenly aftermaths.

'Are you sure? I've been made to understand it feels wonderful, but – '

'Do it again.'

Impatiently Isabela shook her hips, pulled up her legs a little and pushed her head back into the thick feather pillow, her face screwed up with blissful anticipation.

A short hesitant pause was followed by, 'Perhaps I should warn you there can be a serious risk at self-combustion if you keep going on at this rate. And I'm afraid I'll feel responsible if that happens. Do you want to spoil the fun?'

Isabela opened one eye that looked incredulous, irritated and amused all in one. 'You're the healer. You'll fix it. Now do it again.'

'Aaand you had to remind me of the healer part. Now I do feel responsible. Definitely. Thanks for that.'

'You're welcome, lover. What's keeping you?!'

'That's quite obvious, woman. My responsibility is.'

Anders was lying with his head on the pirate's shoulder, with a perfect view on her perfect breasts. They were both stark naked. His hand was between her thighs, lazily fondling her folds that were soaked, due to the numerous orgasms he had given her. On the inside of his fingers he could still feel the faint flicker of electricity that had pushed her to many heights. And he could feel the tingle in his abdomen that still tried to push on his manhood to take action. He's love to but was too tired by now.

They had started with making love in the conventional way of two people enjoying each other's bodies. Although "conventional" was perhaps not the right word for the near desperate way they had wanted to forget their trepidations for a while. Once out of the sight of prying eyes they had jumped each other with groping hands and hungry mouths and biting teeth like a pair of horny teenagers or two cats in heat. But then, of course, Isabela had remembered the marvellous electricity trick and he, evenly of course, had wanted to be a show-off. And now it was getting out of hand.

'For just a short while I could imagine I was still that young cheerful rebellious mage who loved forbidden trysts in secret corners,' Anders complained, 'and then you had to go and spoil the treasured memory.'

Isabela turned her head to look at him, annoyance plain on her face. 'And for just a short while I could image you were that young cheerful rebellious mage that gave me a memory to savour at the Pearl,' she shot snappily back, but her expression softened when she met the little twinkle in his eyes. She gave in with only a small lopsided smile. 'You were joking about the self-combustion, admit it.'

Anders grinned boyishly. 'Who can tell? But to be on the safe side, what about another swig of wine before we resume our exquisite and arousing exercises? Besides that, you're wearing me out. Just give me some time to catch my breath and gather some strength. Casting magic is as tiresome as making love. And far less satisfying, let me tell you.' After a short contemplation he added, without any sweet-talk, for she wouldn't appreciate that anyhow, 'because, mind you, between now and what's left of the night I might want to fuck you again. Without electricity.'

As he had expected, Isabela just giggled and accepted the bottle Anders had managed to sneak upstairs.

'Now you remind me of that delicious mage in Denerim!' She heaved her upper body and leaned upon her elbow to take a sip of the bottle Anders offered her. She smacked her lips approvingly. 'What wine was it again? Antivan Summer Passion? Hmm ... I can tell you some things about Antivans that will make you feel humble about your secret trysts.' She passed him the bottle, gave him a fat wink along the way, and lay down again.

'I don't doubt it,' mumbled Anders drowsily. He mused about the wink. His hand, after putting the bottle back on the floor, travelled to her inviting breasts, grandiosely filling his view, and he started to play with one of her nipples. It earned him an encouraging groan. He smiled inwardly. Despite her reputation Isabela wasn't easy to please and she certainly didn't jump into bed with just anyone. In some ways she held higher standards than the noble women in Hightown. Her calling him lover was no less than a grand honorific. He let out a soft sigh. The wink had been a thumbs up and he knew it. It made him fly.

He had to confess he hadn't felt this good since a long time. After all the stress that the sudden love-affair between Hawke and, and that – well, Fenris (heavy inward blow of breath, grinding of teeth, rolling of eyes) had brought about, he finally had found a tiny piece of quiet. He was the first to admit he was astonished when Isabela, after the shockwaves of the documents Bodahn had produced had evened out, had taken his hand. The very hand that not moments earlier merrily had poured a glass of the notorious Antivan Summer Passion in the midst of all the startling confusion. Because he had refused to be upset any longer, no matter what would happen next.

Halfway the stairs he had let out a warning signal at Justice. Maker forbid that that sordid spirit would interfere and push him back into that dreadful abyss full of hate, revenge and jealousy. But Justice, although he had fervently tried to recuperate, wasn't still his old severe self since the tea-incident. His spluttered protests were incoherent and didn't make any impression whatsoever. Keep it that way, had Anders thought savagely. And it had been enough leverage to let Justice flee again into some indistinct crevice. Sometimes some obscure herbs could do a lot of good.

Isabela stirred against his body, as if catching his secret thoughts. She certainly at once dragged him out of what could become dark thoughts and he was grateful for it. He turned his attention to her; no matter what she'd come up with, he would accept it.

'Do you think they will be angry about us using their absurdly luxurious four-poster?'

Anders rolled over and covered her lustrous body. Her question had stirred his manhood back to life, no matter how much mana he had used already. For some reason making love with
Isabela in Hawke's and Fenris's bed turned him tremendously on. Eat your heart out, sucker!

'If so, would you care?' To his satisfaction he felt the energy return. His prancing cock tickled her alluring wet entrance.

Isabela gripped his shoulders and gave him a love-bite that left him shuddering.

'On the contrary; I think this is the perfect payback,' the pirate queen panted, and it aroused him even more. 'You fucking me in their treasured bed, after they played their trick ... priceless. I hope they'll burn the mattress.'

'I can do that for them,' Ander offered.

With a swift move Isabela turned their bodies so she sat on top of him. 'Brilliant idea. But let's make good use of it first,' she murmured in her most sultry voice.

Pensively Aveline took a sip of her wine, after she had witnessed how Isabela had dragged Anders up the stairs. 'I never thought I'd say this, but good for her.'

'Good for the both of them,' agreed Donnic, grinning. 'I reckon they'll lose a lot of tension between now and, uhm, whatever time they'll take.'

'The whole night,' said Aveline determinedly. 'And if they dare to come down sooner, I'll personally chase them back up those stairs again. They stay up there and do their thing, or rather Isabela's thing, as long as it takes for Anders to unwind. I don't put up with that insufferable, pathetic attitude of the powerless prosecuted heartbroken mage anymore.'

Donnic's face fell. 'So you're planning to spend the night here, playing guard and guardian in one go?' he informed carefully, nor very pleased with the prospect. Their relationship was still too young to loudly vent his displeasure with the idea of babysitting a frustrated mage and a woman his girlfriend normally only referred to as "whore" or "pirate wench". Needless to say he had had completely different plans for the night to come.

Aveline looked up, frowning, and then looked around to find out they were the only ones left in the parlour.

Varric had rushed over to the Hanged man, clutching the deed of the place close to his chest hair, presumably out of fear someone would steal his precious away from him. Merrill and Sebastian had also taken their leave, undoubtedly to inspect the royal shelter they, from now on, so unexpectedly could call their own. Merrill and Sebastian... Aveline wrinkled her brow but immediately after dismissed fretting over the mystery and especially dismissed the disturbing pictures it stirred up in her head. She'd deal with it later. Much later. After all, it wasn't a threat to the city of Kirkwall. She hoped.

And, as already elaborately mentioned before, Isabela and Anders had taken their business to the next and upper level.

Bodahn, by the way, had ages ago fled to the kitchen; after the delivery of the official papers, to be precise. Aveline assumed the steward didn't feel the slightest urge to get tangled up in the commotion his employers had caused.

She smiled sweetly at her lover. 'I suggest we snatch a couple of bottles with the good stuff and a bag of canapés and have ourselves a nice cosy night at my place.'

Donnic exhaled relieved. That had been exactly his idea of a good time. Especially with that, though small but surprisingly comfortable bed in the background of his mind.

'Do it again!' cheeped Merrill excitedly.

'I already did it twice,' chuckled Sebastian. He could never get enough of seeing her happy and hearing her cheerful voice. He wondered why it had taken him so long to notice. And it was so easy to make her happy. She got delighted with the smallest things.

'Three is the charm,' Merrill pointed out, her eyes shining.

'Can't fight that solid logic,' Sebastian agreed.

And so he took her hand to lead her outside. He lifted her in his arms and for the third time carried her over the threshold of their new domain. And before she could demand a fourth time he carried her further inside and to the first floor to inspect the double bed that was waiting for them. If it were up to him, it would be a long and very thorough inspection.

'Say it again,' gurgled Varric. His voice almost cracked. He was sitting behind a large whisky at the bar in the Hanged Man. His Hanged Man. His large whisky. For which he didn't have to pay. Because the tab-days were over. Because from now on this was his tavern. His. He fought down the desire to scream out loud in pure ecstasy. He would marry Isabela any day again if it brought him this reward. No, that wasn't entirely true but he would deal with that later. After the pure exhilaration had settled down in his system. Not now.

His.

Well, theirs, of course, but that didn't matter at this moment. Nothing did but the staggering knowledge the place was his.

His!

His eyes were alarmingly unfocused and Corff feared that any moment now the dwarf at the other side of the counter would burst into tears. Not that Varric was drunk, far from that. Up till now he hadn't even touched the ridiculous amount of booze he had ordered. But he was in such a strange mood that Corff was afraid he could expect anything at any moment now. Even a salty deluge.

'Alright,' he sighed, giving in, 'as you will. Boss.'

Varric beamed. 'Say it again.'

'Oh yes, do that again,' croaked Isabela, more or less at the same time.

Anders nuzzled her bellybutton while his hands sensually glided over her sweaty body.

'Really? I thought you liked to be on top.'

'Shut up, stud, and take me again.'

'Even without the electricity?' asked Anders teasingly.

Isabela just grumbled something incomprehensible about the pres and contras of electricity when his tongue travelled further south, and produced something similar to a heated mate call when he arrived at her nub.

Only the next morning, when she woke up in an alien bed next to a comatose Anders, feeling totally worn out and totally satisfied, she realised that for the first time in her life she had completely lost control and had allowed someone else to take the lead. With a deep contented sigh she moved closer to the mage.

'Well Anders,' she mumbled, 'all those stolen trysts in secret corners did pay out in the end. At least you had the possibility to have a lot of practice before you had to pass the final exam. And, I must say, you passed with flying colours. You're even better than Zevran, when you put your back into it. You even let you be on top. Zevran never managed that. I think I'll keep you for a while.'

Anders groaned in his sleep and turned, taking the covers with him. 'Hmffbrll,' he declared.

Somewhere in his subconscious he felt Isabela's arms encircling his torso and her warm body pressing into his. He smiled happily.

Many leagues north from Kirkwall Hawke was already up and about. She had sneaked out of bed without waking Fenris. That is, she very much wished to think she did. She was quite certain, or better: knew damn well, he played along and pretended to be asleep, just to indulge her because he knew she liked to surprise him with breakfast in bed. So, on her turn, she played along as well. It had become their little game during their long, lovely holiday.

She had put the kettle on to make coffee and in the meantime had wandered outside onto the porch with the perfect view on the calm murmuring sea that, for one reason or another, in this place was incredibly blue. So different from the grey, depressing waters between Ferelden and the Free Marches. She leant on the parapet and grinned from ear to ear. The day before they had bought the little cottage from a rather bewildered owner. Former owner by now. And she could now truly speak of "Our Little Retreat in Rivain".

'Our so much treasured retreat,' she murmured and, if possible, her smile became even wider.

She was so wrapped up in cheery thoughts that she all forgot about the coffee she had wanted to make.

Until Fenris pushed a cup of the alluring smelling steaming liquid under her nose.

'I believe I once warned you for the dangers of boiling kettles,' he chastised her mildly, smiling at the memory.

'Ah yes,' Marian mused dreamily, 'and as I remember well, you made hot love to me on the kitchen table at the same time.'

The elf laughed out loud and Marian thought she could never get enough of that deep dark sugar sound.

Fenris bowed his head and softly kissed the skin of her neck.

'Hmm, do that again,' Hawke encouraged him.

'I believe there's a quite sturdy table in the kitchen. Our kitchen,' he whispered seductively in her ear. 'How about we test its durability?'

Without spilling another word Marian grabbed his hand and hauled him inside their new property.

Oh yes, she simply loved morning sex.

Ahum. Considering the amount of sex described in this chapter you should think it's spring, instead of autumn. That is, of course, for the people living on the Northern hemisphere. For you Down Under it's just the right time, I suppose.

As you can understand, this story is finally reaching its end. The next chapter will be the last of a string I didn't even mean to write in the first place. Fantasy can be a strange phenomenon!

And as always, thank you so much for paying attention to my scribbles!