Notes: This chapter is highly NSFW! Additionally, the first "time" may include some elements that aren't everyone's personal cup of tea. It's pretty mild D/s and has equally mild bondage, so more of an FYI than a warning, but nonetheless. What follows after that does not contain any kinks, but Anders is way too pent up right now not to get rough and assertive the first time.

Song inspiration is "Bedroom Hymns" by Florence + the Machine, which uses blasphemy to great effect. For some reason this particular ship lends itself to that kink, too.

Chapter 18: The Undone and the Divine

Anders and Caitlyn cuddled on the floor of his tiny bedroom, exchanging kisses that began languidly but became increasingly intense as long-denied desire stirred in each of them. Before long, she was gasping against his mouth between kisses and he was almost devouring her. His hands had found their way up her skirt, against her bare legs, and were resting on the outsides of her thighs before she realized it. The sensation was like a jolt of lightning—and she would have wondered momentarily if he had sent one through her, had she not experienced it before and known what it felt like.

"Anders," she gasped, finally breaking away from his lips. "Please—"

He pulled away from her face, suddenly tightening his grip on her thighs, and stared at her. "Please?" he repeated almost mockingly.

She tried to lean forward to capture his lips again, but he quickly withdrew his hands from her legs and grabbed her by her upper arms, holding her away from him and pinning her arms against her sides. A smirk formed on his face. "I've waited for weeks since we kissed for the first time again," he said, his voice almost growly with need.

She struggled in his grip, trying to move forward to press against him or lift her arms to embrace him. "Anders, I wanted to try to make it work with my family—I didn't mean to deny you—so please don't make me wait because of that. Please don't punish me for that."

A sudden throb of desire pulsed through his body at her words, and the idea of "punishing her," sending what felt like all his blood rushing to one certain spot in his body. Trying to keep it together, he managed to growl out, "Then show me that you want me. Beg me."

She drew in her breath and exhaled quickly, feeling that it was far too short a breath for this moment. "Please," she said again. Her words were short and breathy, her eyes open, pupils wide and dark. "I want you tonight. I need you. It's been so long. Please..."

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, before lifting her to her feet and then pushing her onto the mattress of the small bed. She instantly sat upright, gazing at him, her legs stretched on the bed. Anders hovered near the bedside and then lunged for her without warning, unbuckling her belt, loosening it, and lifting her skirt to pull her robe over her head without pausing. Her hair was mussed from the motion, making her appear already ravished to his greedy eyes. She moved to take off her breastband.

"Stop."

Caitlyn muffled a gasp as she saw a flash of light blue in each eye for a brief moment.

Anders folded his arms over his chest and stared at her for what seemed like far too long, though she realized on some level that he was trying to make her wait as he had. "Don't move," he said, his voice low and throaty.

She could not break her gaze from his. Watching him as he stared at her, arms folded, a feigned scowl on his face except for the one corner of his mouth that was turned upward, sent thrums of lust down her body. Traveling Ferelden and serving as a Grey Warden after his final escape had put him in extremely good shape, and it showed in his trim, fit form. She wet her lips with a quick movement of her tongue, making him draw another short, urgent breath, but he retained his composure.

"Anders," she finally burst out, "what do you want me to do?"

The expression on his face changed into an unequivocal smirk. "That's more like it," he murmured, uncrossing his arms and slowly unbuckling his belt. He looped the loose end of the belt through the central ring, letting both ends fall to his sides, then moved his hands to the fasteners of his coat. Her gaze followed his dexterous fingers the whole time, prompting another knowing smirk. "Watch me," he said. "Keep your gaze on me. Show me through the need in your eyes how much you want me..."

She watched intently as he opened the fasteners of his coat. The coat fell open, and she expected him to take it off. Instead he lunged forward, took her by the shoulders, shoved her onto her back on the small mattress, and climbed on top of her still fully dressed.

Yes, he was fit indeed, she thought as he slid his hands swiftly down her arms to find her wrists, then pinned her arms above her head with a single hand. She wondered how much of this was that she did not want to break free... but he was strong. Keeping her wrists tightly pressed against the mattress and firmly in his grip, he reached his free hand under her to unhook her breastband.

"Anders," she protested as he pulled the small garment away and dropped it beside her, "this is unfair. I want to see you too..."

"Just see me?"

"And touch you."

"All in good time," he replied. He thought for a second before picking up the discarded undergarment again. He released her wrists, regarding her for a brief moment and running the band through his fingers almost threateningly. She moved her arms toward the open flaps of his coat to try to take it off.

"Nope," he said at once. Before she could react, he seized her wrists again, lifted them above her head once more, and quickly wrapped the undergarment around them several times, tying it in a loose knot.

"Anders!" she protested. "You said you would let me touch you!"

"You made me wait for weeks," he said again, smiling. He was enjoying this a great deal, and he could tell that despite her protests, so was she. "Because of that, when you do, it'll be on my terms."

She let out a groan and tried to cast a spell to burn the garment away. Anders smiled down archly at her at the sign of the first tiny flame. "I will dispel your magic if you try that," he said. "And you know that I know that spell."

Another groan of complaint, this one closer to a growl, escaped from her throat. She glowered back at him. "You're deliberately tormenting me. I asked you not to punish me, but that just gave you this idea, didn't it?" Another thought entered her mind, and wildly, giddily, she voiced it. "Or is this Justice's influence? You think I really do deserve this?"

She was not entirely surprised when a faint flash of blue light appeared in his eyes once again, additional lightning-bolt flashes crackling across his neck and jawline for a fraction of a second. She never would have imagined it when she first met him again in Kirkwall, but now, the flashes sent throbs of desire straight to her core, whether because of the potential danger or the fact that what he had done was forbidden—or a mix of the two.

"You deserve it, all right," he said in a near-whisper. His gaze was his own now, but it was still intense, and his cheeks were becoming flushed. He quickly divested himself of his boots and shrugged his coat off, revealing the lean but toned arms that she had wanted to see.

Come to think of it, it was a little unexpected to Caitlyn that she was enjoying this situation so much. With Leliana, she had been the more dominant partner, the one who usually led. Still... she recalled some memories with Anders from Lothering. She had liked him to lead then... but this was rather more than just leading. He had never tied her down before or given her command after command other than to tell her what he wanted her to do in the act itself—but for some reason, this was perfect right now. Why? she thought, to the extent that she could still think cogently while Anders was undressing slowly for her. So many things have seemed out of my control in this city. I have had to cling to every shred of power that I can, like tonight, taking the remaining coin and getting out of the house, or being aggressive and tough on the streets of Kirkwall. I haven't even liked ceding control to my own mother, or Carver. Why am I enjoying this so much?

As Anders lifted his tunic over his head, mussing his hair a bit and revealing his well-toned chest for her hungry eyes, she realized that... that was why. I do those things because I have to; otherwise I really will be taken advantage of. That's not a danger with Anders. I trust him. He's safe, I know it, and therefore this is safe—and it's a really nice change of pace to be vulnerable occasionally, to not be in control, but to still feel completely safe.

She realized something else. And if I think that, it means I trust Justice now too.

He untied the drawstrings of his trousers, drawing her attention to the large bulge that they were still concealing—but only for a second as he pulled them down. She drew her breath again; she had not seen an adult man nude since he had left and almost forgotten the size of—that. It has been a while, yes, but I have given birth since I was last with him, she thought. It's fine.

He mounted the bed and got on top of her, pushing her legs apart by settling his own between them. She was still wearing her smalls, and she realized that they were soaked through. "Anders," she said urgently, "I still have—"

The hard thrust against her still-covered core, while he pressed her shoulders into the mattress, told her that he remembered—and he was still going to torment her for a little while yet. A groan of complaint escaped her mouth. "You—you wicked apostate," she hissed.

He only smirked. "Says the woman who's been one all her life." He thrust against her again, sending a surge of pleasure rippling from her sensitive mound.

She gasped and tried to shift beneath him, but he kept her from moving much with his hands pushing her against the bed. A groan of frustration and increasing desire left her lips. "Abomination!" she burst out daringly.

He knew that she was trying to get a response out of him. "Do you think," Anders drawled, "that calling me names will make me stop?" He smiled arrogantly at her. "I am Justice. And you are only prolonging mine upon you."

She set her jaw and tried to remember what he said would make him give her what she—what they both—wanted. "Anders, please," she begged.

"That's better."

"How can you stand waiting?" she burst out, trying to break the binding around her wrists even though she knew she could not do it without magic. "You've told me how long you have wanted me!"

His pupils widened with lust, and with that, the façade cracked. His cocky smirk faded as he leaned over, pressing himself against her, planting intense but tender kisses against the side of her neck. "I have wanted you," he murmured, pulling away from a kiss that would probably leave a mark. "I've wanted you so much. I always wanted you."

She realized that he was not just talking about the past few weeks in Kirkwall. Their game forgotten, she breathed quickly and replied, "I always wanted you too. I always loved you."

He moaned and kissed her again, very near the last spot.

"Even when I was angry and thought I wanted to stop, I couldn't, because I knew I really didn't." She met his eyes as he lifted his head again to gaze down at her. "It's been so long. Please. Please, love—please let me show you how much I love and want you."

He swallowed and blinked rapidly, his breaths rapid indeed now. The cockiness was gone as he rose up, leaving her without the touch of his skin against hers, but she knew that would not last long, so it was bearable. He slipped his thumbs into her smalls and pulled them down, Caitlyn lifting her legs and bending her knees to help him. He tossed the undergarment aside and gazed at her again for a brief second, then untied the knot of the other undergarment that was wrapped around her wrists. Her arms were free again—and instantly she caressed his face, pulling him down for another kiss.

With nothing, not even a thin layer of linen, between them, she tried—not even entirely deliberately—to wrap her legs around his waist and sate some of her intense desire for him that way. She needed him so much that the rush of blood made her feminine core literally hurt from swelling desire—but that would not last long. When he gripped her shoulders, stared intensely into her eyes, and finally buried himself in her to the hilt with a strangled moan, she felt a surge of combined pain shading into pleasure that almost sent her over the edge immediately.

They belonged together. It had been so long since she'd felt this—the night before the day that he had left her in Lothering, in fact. What she'd had with Leliana had been sweet and nice, good for her at the time, but she and Anders were two halves of a whole. She realized that now. That was why it had hurt so much for so long. She needed him—he needed her—in too many ways to enumerate... especially right this moment. Right at this moment, the thought that was flooding her mind was how lovely, how delicious, it was to be joined with him physically and intimately—

He leaned over again and kissed her passionately on the mouth once more, prodding her lips apart with his tongue, and slid out slightly, gently. A groan escaped his mouth, right next to hers, at the sensation that he was feeling. He thrust forward again, and another moan left his lips, a moan of helpless need.

He broke the kiss, blinked, and pulled back. His grip on her shoulders tightened, pushing her even harder against the mattress of the small bed, and as he gazed down at her face, his expression changed again, turning back into the assertive, confident Anders she had just seen.

He lifted his right hand from her shoulders—not that it mattered; he was still holding her down firmly with his other—and trailed his fingertips from her waist, down her hips, across the sensitive spot where her legs joined her hips, finally settling directly over her pearl. She knew what was coming—the wicked smile on his face told her—but when he sent a spark of electricity into her, she still groaned and tried to squirm.

With that, his movements became much more aggressive—even rough. Perhaps because he knew that she had borne a child—his child—and also because he could tell right now just how wet she was, and knew that it couldn't hurt her, he did not hold back, but filled her to the very hilt with every thrust he made. He was taking her as hard as he could.

Caitlyn had to muffle her own cries, remembering their child in the outer room of the clinic, as he moved hard back and forth in her. His fitness and strength were never so apparent to her as they were now, when he was pinning her against the bed so hard that she felt that he might shove her entirely through the mattress and his grip on her shoulders would surely leave marks later. All the while, he thrust rhythmically, his motions punctuated by little gasps—his and hers. As before, she found it amazing—to the extent that she could think clearly—that she was enjoying this so much, but also as before, she understood that she enjoyed this because it was all right to make herself completely vulnerable with him.

She realized, suddenly, that he was doing this more to give himself pleasure and release than to see to hers—and she just didn't care. This was doing exactly what she wanted it to for herself. Perhaps she needed the same thing too, right now. The delicious friction his movements created was sending her rapidly toward a peak. She arched her back, trying to change her angle, and with that, he hit that spot deep inside her that sent her over the edge in a crashing wave of pleasure.

She reached around his head with both arms, trying to hold him against her to dissipate it—but he was not finished yet. The pressure of his hands against her shoulders was suddenly gone, but in the next moment, he was gripping her upper arms. He pinned them to the bed, pressed against either side, and stared down at her as he continued to hammer her. The sensation was too much for her; she let her eyes roll back in her head and surrendered fully, the aftershocks of her own climax mingling with his continued hard movements until he finally had his own release.

He collapsed on top of her shortly after that, the occasional drop of sweat trickling down his body onto hers as they began to plant quick, increasingly lazy open-mouth kisses on each other's lips, jawlines, and necks. At last his motions stilled.

"It's just like I remembered," she said when she could finally speak again. "Maybe better. I don't recall you ever taking me like that, even the night of that rainstorm."

He drew back just enough to gaze into her green eyes with his light brown ones. "I suppose that means you would like a repeat someday."

"Someday soon," she agreed, kissing him again. "Maker—we're actually living together, by ourselves, with our child here with us. We don't have to find hidden spots for quick couplings. We can do this every night..." Caitlyn had been so preoccupied with the earlier events of the day, the mage rescue, the family problems, and her desperate determination to get herself and their child away from a bad situation that she had not even thought much about how this was, on its own, a good situation. More than good.

Anders' eyes gleamed, though with natural light alone, not Fade-light. "We are," he said softly, "and yes, we can." He paused, shifting on top of her as if to roll off her, but an accidental bump against her hip showed that his movement was because of something else.

Caitlyn gaped at him in utter shock at the sensation she had just felt and what it meant. "You're ready to go again already?" she exclaimed in disbelief as Anders got on his knees between her legs. She rose from the bed to sit upright, staring at him.

He peered back, desire practically beaming from his eyes as he held the base of his quickly hardening erection with one hand. "I'm a Grey Warden now."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"You've never heard about the legendary Grey Warden stamina?" he drawled. He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Hmph," she said, smiling in spite of the harrumph. "Sounds to me like a tall tale for Grey Wardens to tell themselves. And how exactly did you know you had this 'Warden stamina'?"

"I didn't know until tonight," he said. "I thought it might be a tall tale too. But... it is definitely true." He stared intensely at her. "Are you..."

She honestly did not have the stamina to go again this soon. Later tonight, yes, but not immediately. However, that did not mean that there was nothing to be done.

"Are you comfortable kneeling like that?" she asked, a saucy smirk of her own forming on her face as he realized what she intended and his eyes widened in surprise. "Or would you rather have your legs free?"

He considered her question, but only for a moment. In the next, he answered her without words, repositioning himself to be seated, his legs splayed but his knees bent. She replied with a knowing grin and bent down, taking his length in one hand and stroking slowly, focusing on the sensitive tip and the most prominent vein. His responding shiver, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw set as he grabbed fistfuls of sheets with both hands, delighted and encouraged her. She was afraid she had forgotten how to do this—but what she was doing now was definitely pleasing him.

When she released her grip and descended between his bent legs to take his manhood into her mouth, he let out a muffled cry as her lips and then her tongue and—oh so gently—teeth trailed down the extremely sensitive skin. He realized, vaguely—the haze of pleasure was rapidly overtaking him as she worked on him—that she must be enjoying very much indeed to reduce him to this so soon after he had made her beg for him, tied her hands up, held her down, and taken her as hard as possible. He didn't care.

He was correct. As she watched him fall apart in her hands, shuddering with every lick, suck, and nip of hers, his grip on the sheets tightening and loosening in tandem with each burst of pleasure, isolated beads of sweat forming on his toned chest and slowly trailing down, she found herself growing aroused once again. Yes, she could certainly go for a second round herself before long, at this rate.

She nipped very gently at him, moving her moistened lips in a very slight motion, but that was all it took to undo him. He released the sheets and seized handfuls of her hair with each hand, tangling his fingers between the locks, pulling a bit but not enough to really hurt. She responded by moving her hands back to the base of his erection while continuing to torment him with her mouth. Recalling the spark of static electricity, she summoned just enough heat to her fingertips to make him moan again at the sensation.

"Maker's flaming breath," he gasped when she increased the heat level, bringing him almost to a second climax. His grip on her locks of hair tightened, and he pulled harder. She raised her gaze briefly to his. Emerald eyes gazed up at him, the whites fully showing beneath her irises, her eyebrows narrowed. He held his breath; that look felt ominous somehow, though not menacingly so...

With a single motion, she drew back from him, her teeth raking down his hardness from the base to the tip, the grip of her fingers tightening in place of her mouth at the same time. He suppressed a yelp as he released again—but she did not pull back entirely, allowing him to spill himself in her mouth without missing a drop.

Anders collapsed forward into her welcoming arms after that, trembling and sweating once again, mumbling almost incoherent praise as she cradled him. "You're amazing," he said, his face half-buried in the space between the base of her neck and her shoulder. "Missed this—all of this—so much..."

"So have I," she whispered, kissing him on top of the head. "I don't suppose we can make it all up in one night..."

He managed a chuckle. "I don't want to overwhelm you, but... before long... maybe..." He trailed off, almost embarrassed, but also proud. Grey Warden stamina was definitely real. He was not ready yet for a third time, but he would be.

She kissed him again in approval of the promise inherent in his words. "I know the expedition is soon," she murmured, "and after that, hopefully we'll get the house back... our time here is probably going to be brief... but after that, if it works out, I want you to live there with me—it's very close to your clinic, more or less right above us, and we'll have a private bedroom in the mansion—"

He cuddled her. "Of course," he reassured her. "I never want to leave you again." He caressed her cheek. "And if the expedition is a disappointment..."

"Then we will stay. I'm not going back to my uncle's house. We should be together, with Mal, wherever we are."

She really has chosen me, Anders thought, holding her close. This is not just a temporary sanctuary from an unpleasant relative, to be endured until she can live well in Hightown. She is here because she wants to be with me, and she will remain here even if Hightown never comes to be.

Caitlyn continued to kiss him languidly on the face, neck, and shoulders, taking in his distinct scent. Apparently the scent of leather remained in his hair even if he was not wearing his coat, and pine as well. The hint of freshly cut plants was centered on his hands, which she supposed made sense. Right at this moment, these fragrances were mingled with the heady scent of sex. It was almost too much for her nose, and entirely too much when combined with the stimulation of her sense of touch by the contact of heated skin against heated skin.

"Anders," she said urgently.

He raised his head and gazed at her. "Hm?"

That was far too knowing a hum. He was teasing her, so she decided to do it right back to him. He was the one with "Warden stamina," after all. She trailed her hands slowly down his sides, letting them rest on each side of his waist, as she fixed her gaze upon his. "Are you going to be ready?" she challenged, smirking.

He smirked back. "Soon."

"Then let's make it sooner."

His eyes gleamed. They tumbled down on the bed side-by-side, falling into a haze of caresses, kisses, and professions of love. She pressed herself against him from head to toe, relishing his warmth and their closeness. She felt the very moment that he began to grow hard again and nudged against him, drawing moans from him and speeding the process.

"I'll grant that Warden stamina is apparently real," she said, smiling, after pressing especially hard against his crotch and making him cry out and roll her onto her back.

He breathed heavily and positioned himself at her entrance, gently pushing her legs apart so that he could settle his between them. "It's all for you, love."

She breathed deeply and locked her eyes with his. "Then give it to me," she demanded.

Anders released a shuddery breath and surged forward, filling her completely with one stroke. They were ready for each other from the past two times, and those two times had also done away with the urgency for a quick, intense climax. Anders and Caitlyn could take their time now, focus on each other, be tender, and draw this out slowly and lovingly.

As much as they had enjoyed their intense, rough first time—and he had enjoyed the personal favor she had given him—this was exactly what they needed now. They punctuated their motions with sweet, tender kisses and gentle caresses of each other's arms, shoulders, back, and face.

She gave him a hard but passionate kiss where his neck and collarbone joined, eliciting a moan and making his hands—resting on her hips—jerk upward slightly. He collected himself, breathed rapidly, and slid both hands to her core where they were joined.

Caitlyn knew he was going to do it again—and when he sent another jolt of electricity, a stronger one that involved both hands, into her body, it made her gasp and thrash beneath him. But she quickly recovered. She took quick breaths of her own and caressed his face with both hands, her thumbs and forefingers drawing small circles on the tender skin behind his ears while her other fingers rested on his temples and cheeks. She knew that he was expecting heat—so instead she summoned cold to her fingertips.

He yelped, trying to pull away, but she kept him from moving from her. A wry smirk on her face, she switched her magic, bringing heat to her fingertips and warming up the spots that she had just given a jolt of coldness.

"We'll have to see what else we can do with magic now that we have privacy," he murmured.

"So many possibilities," she gasped out, shuddering from his latest thrust and wrapping her legs around his waist tightly to dissipate the wave of pleasure. Indeed, she was already considering the possibilities of a Glyph of Paralysis...

But not right now. Right now, they were making love tenderly and could not be distracted from that reality for long. As they rapidly approached their climaxes, he sped up his pace, making her cry out incoherently in a mix of moans, exclamations of pleasure, and exhortations for him to continue.

"More," she pleaded. "Harder, Anders—"

Driven by her responses, he intensified his pace even further, harder, until they fell over the edge together. He collapsed on her, both of them shuddering and quaking, and wrapped his arms around her sides as she held his head down and pressed her cheek against his.

Finally they were calm and still, but he found that he did not particularly want to separate from her, and she was making no attempt to move away from him. The bed was meant for one person, anyway, so they would have to curl up very close indeed overnight. Still, he knew that he would have a sore neck the next morning if he actually slept draped on top of her, so he gently rolled onto his side. She repositioned herself to curl into his open arms and pulled the sheets and blanket over them, feeling waves of natural body heat pooling under the covers.

"Let's do that all the time," she murmured, caressing his back. It was so lovely and intimate to be this close to him, both of them completely nude, their bodies radiating heat.

Anders suppressed a chuckle. She wouldn't feel like it every night. Neither, for that matter, would he—that didn't appear to be how Warden stamina worked—but on the nights that they were both in the mood, he had no doubt that he could repeat tonight. We do have a lot of catching up to do, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, and I can hardly wait. It was a pleasant thought, but it quickly shifted to a more tender one: I never want to be without her again. I said that, but I meant it too. He planted a final kiss of the night on her left temple.

She smiled, murmured her approval, and nestled closer as they drifted into the Fade.

Waking up the next morning still in his arms was a lovely feeling. For a brief moment before she had fully left the Fade, Caitlyn thought that this was how it had been for the past four years, that nothing terrible had happened, that it was the loft in the Lothering cabin and Bethany would emerge from the bedroom with her father following from the other door to shake his head wryly at them. Such a scene, after all, was what had happened the last time she had awakened after a night of intimacy with Anders. The realization otherwise saddened her—but just for a minute. The abject misery of three and a half out of the four years is over. They would be glad we are truly reunited, she thought, giving him a light kiss on his forehead. Bethany always believed that it would happen eventually. You were right, little sister. I just wish you had known this... had someone... yourself. I—we—will make sure that other mages don't have to hide.

Anders blinked awake, the telltale blue-white flashes of light arcing down his body beneath his skin for a moment. Caitlyn wondered if Justice took over in the Fade. She had never encountered Anders himself there, though before she had decided to shield herself with anger years ago, she had seen many a demon pretending to be. It was possible, if unusual, for two people to actually encounter each other in the Fade through their dreams.

"Good morning, love," he murmured, pulling her close in a hug for a moment. He stretched fully awake, then remembered that they were both nude. He chuckled as he got out of bed to find his clothes and noticed that she was staring at him. "Your turn now," he drawled as he attached the fasteners of his coat and pulled his belt tight. He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed pointedly at her—just as he did last night before the first, rough time, she remembered. That look, that particular pose, had nearly driven her wild then.

One side of her mouth turned upward, but she didn't mind obliging him. Throwing the covers back ostentatiously, she picked up her scattered clothes and put them on, holding the breastband in her hands while gazing at him pointedly. He smirked back as she attached it on her back and then pulled her gown back on. She had other clothes in her crates, but they had more important things to do first—such as eating breakfast, converting the patient bed into Mal's permanent sleeping arrangement, and, of course, seeing to him.

Something occurred to her at the thought of the crates, and she began to rummage through one. His face lit up as she pulled out the feather hair ornament he had made for her four years ago. She presented it to him, wordlessly asking him to attach it to her shoulder-length hair. My hair is not long anymore, she thought, but it's long enough that the pin will stay in it. Anders attached the pin and then, still grinning ear to ear, pulled the orange-dyed handkerchief out of his belt pouch and tied it around his left upper arm. Mine again, Caitlyn thought in satisfaction and pleasure, and I'm yours. She wondered how long it would be before he... no, she thought, stopping herself. He is not going to offer me the ring again until he is ready to ask that question officially. And even then... how could we actually do it? He is a Grey Warden, but he clearly has enemies among the Templars who don't care about that, and I'm sure that Meredith Stannard suspects that I am a mage. I don't see any way to hide the truth, especially since we would have to swear privately to the priest that Anders was Mal's father for him to be legitimized. That would open up questions about our relationship four years ago. What priest in Kirkwall could we trust to keep our secrets from the zealous Templars?

Caitlyn realized belatedly that she had allowed her thoughts to run away with her in spite of her resolution against that.

Still, they could hardly keep away from each other that morning, giving each other frequent quick hugs and kisses, and resting one arm around the other's waist whenever they had a moment. The little boy was pleased at the sight of so much parental affection. Caitlyn realized, with a pang, that he had not observed the people around him showing much affection of any kind until now. Bethany had been affectionate, but she was not sure how much Mal would actually remember of her beyond images and vague memories. She and Carver were definitely not affectionate to each other as siblings. Their mother had been, though, and Caitlyn supposed that Mal knew it was a good thing because of his grandmother.

Even if the Deep Roads expedition is a bust, she thought, Anders and I will be all right. He will be paid as a Warden, if nothing else. We might someday be able to get a little place in Lowtown if we can save up enough—or if the expedition provides enough treasure for that but not for the Amell estate. She recalled a job she had heard of, an Orlesian mine owner who was having problems at his mine. She meant to look into it soon; depending on the nature of the problems, if she could negotiate a share of the mine's profits, that might be a decent source of income in combination with Anders' Warden stipend. Nevertheless, these were fallback measures that would come with a significant sacrifice: Failing to become important and influential in Kirkwall would limit their ability to affect the lot of mages in general, which was why she was still determined on the expedition even though she was free of Gamlen Amell and did not have to scrape for borderline-criminal work to do. However it happens, she resolved, whether we live in high style or remain of modest means, Mal will have a loving home and good adult examples in his life. This, I swear.

"Father," Mal spoke up, "I like your coat."

Anders smiled and stroked the feathers on one side. "Thanks. It's stylish, isn't it?"

Caitlyn shook her head in feigned exasperation at his vanity, but she liked this coat too. The one he had worn in Lothering was longer and much more similar to mage's robes, though this one was based on robes too, but she liked the raffish, rebellious look of this one more. And those feathers... one of these days, she would like to make love fully clothed again, like their second-ever time in Lothering, just to feel those feathers tickling her...

"It is," Mal said, giggling, bringing his mother back to the present. "Could you... do you think I could have one like it?"

Anders grinned. "We shall see," he said, ruffling the child's reddish-blond hair.

Mal beamed.

Neither of them was that surprised when Carver showed up at the clinic door later that day, looking resentful and ashamed. "I just wanted you to know, first of all," he said as he strode into the clinic, "that I tried to tell Mother... but she wanted to ask you if you would consider coming back h—to Lowtown," he corrected himself at once, not wanting to say the word "home."

Caitlyn shook her head. "Our uncle has had all the chances he's going to get from me. Last night was the last straw as far as I'm concerned... and besides, Anders and I should be living together in a place where we can have some privacy. With Mal. It's rather strange for a committed couple to sleep two feet away from the mother of one of them."

"I told you, I tried to explain this to her," Carver said, glowering. "She doesn't want to understand." He scowled again. "I always thought she just didn't want me ever to strike out on my own, but she seems to be the same way about you too."

Caitlyn was surprised that he would lay it out like that, and in truth, she had not considered that herself until now. "I think you're right," she said. "Mother... has difficulty with that."

"Right, then," Carver replied. "In that case, I'll take the message back to her. Morning, Anders," he finally said. He smiled at his young nephew. "And you too."

"Good morning, Uncle Carver," Mal said nicely.

"Carver," Caitlyn said, "you should know something about the Deep Roads expedition fund." She took a breath as he raised his eyebrows questioningly; suddenly she realized that he might not like this news for personal reasons. "Anders had a lot of coin stored away from his Grey Warden salary. He has made up the deficit—both what our uncle stole from us, and the ten we were already lacking."

Carver's scowl deepened. "Oh, did he?" he managed to get out. He looked at Anders, though it was essentially a glare. "I'm obliged, then. I'm sure Mother will be thrilled to hear that we don't have to do any more dangerous jobs." He breathed heavily. "And speaking of her, I really should go."

That went over about as badly as I feared, Caitlyn thought. "Are you... all right with that?" she asked. "You didn't already make a deal with the Carta, did you?"

"No," he said with a glower. "I haven't done a thing. And I guess now I don't have to, thanks to 'Anders, hero of the Hawke family' again. See you later." Without waiting for any of them to speak, he stormed out the door of the clinic, closing it hard behind him.

Caitlyn scowled. "Sorry about him. He probably wanted to try to earn it himself to prove his 'worth' or some such."

"I actually understand that," Anders said.

"So do I," she agreed, "but that was no reason to... ah, never mind." She managed a smile. "We'll be able to buy in. Nobody is stopping him from doing whatever he wants in town. The difference is that any coin he earns is all his now. He should like that, at least, once he thinks about it."

Late that night, after they had bathed—Anders had a larger washtub than Uncle Gamlen did, and it was great fun to cast snow and ice into it and then heat it to a nice warm temperature with fire spells—and Mal was in bed, they retired to their own room and climbed into the small bed, pressed against each other side-by-side. They were not quite in the mood just yet, and both Anders and Caitlyn wanted to talk first.

"I was thinking," she said, opening the discussion. "Perhaps it took last night—being intimate again—for me to truly realize this, but I had been worried about something after..." She took a deep breath; they had mostly avoided this topic in conversation, especially since they saw Isabela often in town and Caitlyn still felt the need to act possessive of Anders in her presence to discourage any attentions from her, but it had to be broached eventually. "After Leliana. And Karl, for you."

He raised his eyebrows curiously. "Oh?" He had a feeling he knew what she was going to say, at least the substance of it.

"Yes. I was worried—I had kissed boys before you, and one girl, but obviously this is different. And after her—well, I didn't really think of this until I met you again here in Kirkwall, but after that, I was worried that I might want female company too. That you might not be 'enough.' I... feel better about this now. I don't need 'variety.' I need you. I want you. After last night, I realized that. You satisfy me. More than satisfy."

Anders was smiling. He seemed to understand, and perhaps even anticipate her words. She wondered, hopefully, if he might have experienced the same kinds of thoughts himself. He'll share if he has, she thought.

"And there is something else. I don't know if it is the same for you, but... well," she fumbled for her words, "I think there are degrees, perhaps. Leliana... she was a bard in Orlais, but to the best of my knowledge, she has only had three partners about whom she truly cared. Another female bard... me… and Lady Cousland. I don't know this, but I would guess that she's more attracted to women than to men even if she can be attracted to both. I... think I am the opposite. What I feel for you is much more intense than what I felt for her. I mean... I have only a single case of each to judge by," she laughed, "and ultimately it doesn't matter, because as I said, I want you."

Anders hugged her and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, then released her and stretched his arms—already bare, as they had undressed—in front of him on the bed. "I wish there were books about attraction," he said. "Books other than spicy novels. Maybe they know something at the University of Orlais, but I would not count on it. In the absence of anything like that, I guess all we can do is speculate. I... do not think I am exactly the same as you, more attracted to the opposite sex, if we're talking about raw physical appeal. I feel... well, fairly even, but again, when it comes to partners I cared about, I've also only got one case of each, so that could be influencing my perceptions. That is a factor too, I would think—caring about somebody."

"It does make me want you even more," she agreed, smiling at him.

He pulled her close. "But I think you're right. It doesn't matter and we don't need to worry about it. I don't need anyone else, man or woman, to feel 'satisfied' when I am with you."

She returned the embrace. "That was what I decided," she said, "and it was an immense relief. I did worry about this until... well, today." She hesitated uneasily; this next question might be rather too personal, but it was still nagging at her, and she felt that it was better to ask. "There is one thing," she said, wincing. "Leliana... there's nothing she could do that you couldn't. But that's not the case for me. You and Karl—are you, erm, going to miss any specific type of—"

Anders realized that this was deeply uncomfortable for her. He also realized that the question itself was embarrassing for her to ask, probably because she thought it was none of her business and worried that he would be angered at her intrusiveness, even if she was asking out of worry rather than prurient curiosity. "No," he said at once. "I... had boundaries. Maybe if I hadn't yet known you, hadn't had a child with you, I might've tried everything. But as it was, there was a line that was just too far, because I always had you in the back of my mind." He gazed at her. "I feel terrible about him, even now," he said, cringing. "The Templars were the ones who did that to him, but he did die because he knew me, and I was never even fully his." He sighed. "I have tried to move on and keep him, your father, your sister, and all the other mages who died because of this wicked system—even indirectly—in mind when I consider our ultimate goals, but I'll probably never lose the guilt that I got him mutilated and never even gave my heart entirely to him. But it was to keep from feeling too guilty about you."

Caitlyn hugged him. "Anders, think of it this way. Even if you didn't give him all of your heart, he knew what a meaningful relationship was because of you. And you mustn't blame yourself. For all you know, the Templars here would have done that to him anyway. You remember what Ser Thrask said."

"Ah, yes. I should pick his brains for more information. If the one who did that to Karl is still alive..." He trailed off darkly.

She completely agreed with his unspoken threat—provided that he could do it without endangering himself too much—but she didn't want him to become distracted with vengeance right now. "This talk about guilt leads to, well, the other thing about all of this. I was also worried about the fact that we had not actually split up—we were separated forcibly by others, unwillingly—and yet we still turned to others because we were lonely." She sighed. "It still worries me, honestly. I have no good answers for that part. I know I wouldn't have looked elsewhere—and you wouldn't have either—if we had been together still and happy, but... what if we're together and unhappy? Together in name, but lonely?"

He sighed. "I don't have a good answer for that either. We'll just have to keep that from happening. But I do know this, Cait, love: The risk you're talking about is not unique to us. We're in no more danger of it than others, despite the past. As you said, we were separated and genuinely did not know if we would ever see each other again. The situation you're worried about would be different. And"—he winced, but it had to be said—"this I swear. I will not cheat on you. I hope we never, ever have to... but if it's ever that bad, and there is no way to fix it, we should just..." He trailed off, but she did not need him to finish. She knew what he had left unsaid.

It was unpleasant to her too, but she was glad that he said it. She caressed his cheek gently. "I promise that too, love. I will always be honest with you, not underhanded. And I will try everything before letting you go." She smiled wryly. "But best not to let it ever come to that. I know that we can't take each other for granted, above all."

He leaned in to kiss her. "If you are ever feeling lonely, that I'm becoming distant from you or otherwise not doing what I should for us, just tell me."

"I will," she promised, hugging him. "And you do the same, love." She paused for a moment before smiling wryly. "I promise I won't throw a fireball at you."

"I will, and I'll hold you to that promise," he said teasingly. She laughed; the conversation had become very heavy, and she was glad of the sudden note of levity. "Save your flames for more intimate moments."

She raised her eyebrows at him in a smirk. "Oh, is that what you want?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" She climbed on top of him, still wearing her smalls and breastband, but doubtful that they would remain on her body for much longer, especially after his hands found their way to her back and began to fumble with the clasp...

He let her fall asleep in his arms that night, cuddling her against his chest, their legs tangled together under the blankets. It was wonderful to have this, Anders thought—and for a moment, he wished that it could last for the rest of their lives. No Deep Roads expedition, no struggles for mage rights—because as much as he wanted to make that change, he knew that it would be a difficult battle that would probably test his morals and devastate his emotions sometimes. No Kirkwall politics, certainly no Templar allies of necessity, just Caitlyn, Mal, and he—and the dog. And I wish I could have a cat again, he thought. Briefly he had had a kitten, but little Ser Pounce-a-Lot had been left behind in Amaranthine. I always liked the idea of a simple life, he thought, gently adjusting her on his body. But that was before Malcolm, before Caitlyn, before Karl, before Bethany, before Justice. And before little Mal.

The simple life would not last long, he knew—or if it did, it would be because the Deep Roads treasure was a disappointment. In that case... they probably would have to leave Kirkwall altogether to protect Caitlyn and, most likely, Mal. No, their simple life here in the clinic needed to be brief. But it is a golden chance for us to develop our relationship without too many distractions, he thought. Maker knows we'll have enough of those later if everything happens the way we want it to. This time should be for us.