Chapter SIXTY-THREE
The next day, Aria busied herself with preparations. She wrote a will and had one of Hubert's Coterie contacts notarize it. She utilized the Dark Town passage between her home and Anders' clinic to store clothes, money, toys, documents, and other necessities for Tristan and Charade in a hidden trunk where Anders, Charade, and Isabela could find it before they took him away. She picked out a funeral outfit for the dead toddler who would serve as Tristan's doppelganger in the mock funeral. And then, she and Fenris made the rounds of High Town with Tristan, conducting social calls to all their friends and keeping the facade of normalcy.
As they were leaving the dwarven merchant's guild after calling on Varric, Aria saw that Athenril was at her stand in front of the Blooming Rose. Athenril was talking to some mercenary types, and Aria's interest was piqued. Fenris saw it too, and he growled.
"Aria, no. Whatever mess Athenril has gotten herself into now-"
"We're trying to provide a 'normal' facade," Aria interrupted him. "Wouldn't people think it odd that we didn't stick our noses in to help a friend?"
"Athenril is not your friend," Fenris tersely quipped. Bodahn stood near them with Sandal, manning their little armour and potions stand for the day. "Bodahn!" Fenris called, a bit more harshly than he intended. The dwarf came over immediately.
"What can I help with, messere?" Bodahn genially stated as he came up to them.
Aria unstrapped Tristan from her back and handed the heavy tot to the dwarf. "Please, take him home to Orana. We likely will not be home this evening. Or the next few evenings, at least."
Bodahn took the child with a nod and he briskly set off for the estate while Sandal minded their little armour stand. Aria and Fenris strode over to Athenril's stall and confronted the mercenaries, who seemed to be expecting them. As luck would have it, Isabela came striding out of the Blooming Rose just then and joined them. Varric appeared behind them as well, having stepped out of the Merchant's Guild to head back to the Hanged Man. Both companions briskly walked up to join Aria and Fenris.
"Ah, the Champion of Kirkwall. Your reputation precedes you," the leader of the mercenary band jovially greeted them, his eyes carefully and quickly assessing each of them in turn. "Forgive me, I should introduce myself properly. My name is Nuncio Caldera Lanos. I am a noble from the beautiful country of Antiva."
"It must have taken a lot of practice to say that all in one breath," Aria jested, crossing her arms over her chest. This man was definitely up to something.
"It's mostly to impress the ladies, I assure you," Nuncio drawled, his Antivan accent thick and suave. He grinned salaciously at Aria, then at Isabela, then back at Aria. "I've come to ask for your help, Champion. Hiding among the Dalish is an elven assassin I have been chasing for months. He's a master manipulator who will endanger even his own kind to ensure his survival."
Aria wasn't convinced of Nuncio's sincerity, and judging by the snort Isabela gave, neither was she. "Are you sure you're a noble? Because you don't seem the type to hunt assassins if you are," Aria flippantly replied. She smelled a rat. "Why are you really after him?"
"At first, it was merely duty to Antiva," Nuncio responded, "But after losing so many good men to him, it became personal. He's nothing but a murderer, a thief, and a liar."
"And you want me to use my wily, wily ways to find out where the Dalish are hiding this elf?" Aria dubiously asked.
"That is part of it, yes. This elf is very dangerous, and he must be brought in before he kills again," Nuncio stated, his vivid blue eyes pleading.
Aria studied him a moment. He was of medium stature, muscular build. He dressed as someone accustomed to both luxury when warranted, as his finely crafted, expensive clothing suggested—and as someone who wasn't opposed to roughing it in the wild, as the scuffs and well-hidden scratches to his leather armour attested.
"I've heard of your dealings with the Dalish," Nuncio continued when Aria was silent. "I was hoping you could go where my men cannot. Find out where the assassin is hiding and apprehend him."
Aria looked between her companions. Isabela picked her teeth with a dagger and winked at Hawke. Varric shrugged. Fenris keenly watched Nuncio and nodded imperceptibly at Aria. That was all she needed.
"I'll see what I can do," Aria said at last.
"One of the Dalish, a woman named Variel, is a friend of his. I suggest speaking with her first."
One of Nuncio's companions spoke up then, "We won't be here when you get back. We've got a camp site outside the city. Look for us there."
The mercenaries departed and the group of companions warily watched them leave. Athenril dipped her head at Aria in acknowledgment. Aria returned the gesture before starting back for the estate. Isabela and Varric followed.
"Are you sure you should be doing this right now?" Isabela said as they entered the foyer.
"Finally! A voice of reason," Fenris growled, incredulity and blame lacing his tone. "And coming from her, no less!"
"Aww, thanks sweet thing," Isabela brightly said. Fenris growled in response, tossing his hands exasperatedly into the air.
"It's exactly the type of thing Hawke normally does," Varric said, taking Bianca off his back and proceeding to oil the cross-bow's mechanisms with implements from Sandal's kit. "She's not noticeably pregnant anymore and if she'd behaved any differently, people would suspect. Elf, you keep doing what you're doing. You're selling the ruse perfectly."
Aria tossed Fenris's giant great sword to him, then threw its scabbard. He deftly caught them and glared first at Varric, then at Aria. Aria then donned her trademark twin daggers and cloak, returning his glare as she animatedly buckled her implements.
"Isabela, stay here with Tristan, please," Aria said as they all turned for the secret passage that led into Darktown.
Isabela clapped her hands together girlishly and went running for the nursery, where Orana and Tristan were playing. Aria had never thought that someone with such a wicked, horrible, selfish reputation would be so head over heels for a toddler. Or work magic on them the way she did. Tristan adored the pirate. She sighed, rolled her shoulders to check the fit of her dagger sheaths, then followed Varric and Fenris out the door.
The trio went to Anders's clinic, and along the way, Aria showed Varric where she had hidden the trunk for Tristan. Varric committed the site to memory and they met up with Anders. The healer was tending to a couple of obviously pregnant women, who each had several other toddlers and school-age children with them. Aria felt a pang of guilt as she surveyed the scene, morbidly wondering if any of them were sick enough to perish soon and serve as the decoy for Tristan. Sorrow filled her at this and she turned away from them all, fearing they'd see her thoughts in her eyes.
Anders dismissed them with small sacks laden with potions, and they all smiled at Aria as they left. The eldest of the children even lingered for a few seconds to say hello to the Champion of Kirkwall. Aria gifted the child a sovereign to take home to her family. But it wasn't a heroic gesture of compassion or generosity on her part. She was paying for the guilt. Literally.
"What are we up to now?" Anders quietly asked, grabbing his staff and stuffing healing and lyrium potions into his belt.
"Apparently there's a fugitive elf among the Dalish," Aria dryly replied.
"Ah, up Sundermount we go. Are we leaving now?" Anders asked, eyeing his food stores on his table and shelves. He grabbed a couple of his well-worn packs and started putting items in one.
"I had hoped to," Aria said, wincing at the glare she was certain Fenris was staring her way. She heard him sigh testily.
"Honestly, it'll only be a few days at the most," Varric interjected, slightly perturbed at Fenris's stubborn reluctance. The elf was more protective of Aria than ever, but right now, he was just being spiteful. While it wasn't out of character necessarily, it was beginning to wear on Varric's considerably tough nerves and his tongue wasn't going to hold forever.
"We've got more pressing matters to attend than chasing after fugitives from Antiva!" Fenris snarled.
"A few days. No more," Aria pleaded. "I know. I want to spend whatever time I can with him too, but..."
"But you both have to remain free from all suspicion," Varric quietly stated, lest someone outside hear.
"Augh!" Fenris spat, stalking out of the clinic.
Aria turned a pleading gaze to Varric. He sighed heavily and went after the elf while Aria helped Anders finish packing.
"How long do we really have?" Aria softly inquired of him, helping him wrap some of the food rations and stow them in his satchels.
"Until?" Anders asked, feigning innocence. He deliberately avoided looking at her.
"Whatever you're going to do that's going to spark the war?" she responded.
He could hear the hurt in her tone and he was running out of excuses. He stopped and screwed his eyes shut, hard. The last thing anyone could accuse Aria Hawke of being was stupid. Aria always saw too much. Knew too much. Gentle warmth enveloped his hand as her fingers closed around it, a gesture meant to be reassuring. He didn't deserve it. Anders gently removed his hand from her grasp and slung the satchel over his shoulder. He ignored her as he readied his staff.
"Please..." Aria whispered, her voice breaking. "You don't have to do this, Anders. Whatever it is."
His eyes flew to hers at the desperation in her voice and he studied her, his heart slowly breaking in his chest at the sight of her pleading with him. Her gaze begged for an answer, still believing in the best of him. Still believing there was hope, that this fight could be resolved without bloodshed. His throat constricted and he swallowed, hard. He loved her. Maker help him, he loved her more than anyone he'd ever loved in his life. And here he was, hurting her. Yet again. Just as Justice had warned would happen years ago. He tore his gaze from her and looked at his feet, schooling his expression into a hard mask.
"Go ask Meredith. She'll be the one to ignite it all."
He turned then without another word and briskly walked out to join Varric and Fenris. Aria shouldered the other satchel and followed. She swallowed the lump in her throat and avoided Fenris's stony stare as she emerged from the clinic. He fell into step beside her and they departed the city.
They made good time up Sundermount. No one was big on conversation for the time being and the trek was largely silent, except for Aria giving direction or the others communicating observations of the trail. It was dark when they set camp, but the moon was waxing and mostly full, offering them plenty of light by which they could conduct themselves. Varric started the fire and gathered their dinner while the others set up the tents. Once camp was set and evening chores finished, Anders retreated immediately to his tent. He hadn't looked at or spoken to Aria since they left Kirkwall. Varric, Fenris, and Aria sat around the fire, eating their dinner in contemplative silence.
"Think we'll need watches?" Varric asked around a mouthful of bread. He chased it with wine from his skin and offered it to Aria. She accepted, took a sip, and passed it to Fenris.
"I don't think so," Aria quietly replied, taking the skin back from Fenris once he'd had a sip and returned it to Varric.
"Isabela's crew have kept the brigands from the coast in order to protect the ship. The city guards and templars have been up the mount regularly. We should be safe," Fenris added.
Varric nodded. "I felt the same, but didn't want to get too comfortable if we did decide to draw for watches."
"Nah. Finish your dinner and get some rest. We'll be okay," Aria said, offering him a genuine smile.
Varric 'hmphed' in agreement and disappeared into his tent, leaving the troubled couple alone by the fire. Aria sighed, finishing her food. She stood, dusting the crumbs from her chest and lap, then set about to packing up the food and utensils that had been used. Once that was done, she stepped outside the camp's perimeter and made for a clearing she'd seen earlier on their way up. She needed some time to think. To be alone with her thoughts. To put perspective on... Everything.
She stopped at the edge of the clearing, watching a few deer and their fawns grazing in the meadow. It was a beautiful, serene, living picture before her, and she lost herself to it. Nightingales and owls called mournfully from the trees, whose stirring leaves whispered in the soft breeze. Crickets chirped their string-like melodies and fireflies flitted about. Their little stars of yellow-green winked merrily in the silver light that bathed the clearing, lending it an otherwordly quality that left her drowsily relaxed.
Aria almost jumped when strong arms encircled her waist and brought her hard against a steely, muscular body. She subdued the sudden panic that quickened her pulse, realizing instantly the identity of her captor. She sighed as warm, familiar lips feathered soft kisses against the side of her neck. They hadn't spoken since the clinic and the urge to finally say something overwhelmed her.
"Fenris, I-" she started to speak, but his voice sounded by her ear.
"Shhh," he hissed on a whisper, turning her to face him, his hands finding both of hers and their fingers locked easily together. He drew her hands to rest on his shoulders. "No troubles. No worries. No woes. Just us. Just now. Just peace."
Aria tried to smile at this but couldn't muster the courage. He pulled her abruptly to him, splaying his fingers across the back of her head and drawing her cheek to rest on his unarmoured chest. He began to sway then, moving to a melody that only he could hear, his hands guiding her hips and shoulders. Aria moved with him, letting him lead, and soon, they languidly sank together at the edge of the meadow, farthest away from the camp. A mattress of soft grasses cushioned them as they lay tangled together, gazes skyward but unseeing, lost to their own thoughts and emotions and unable to coherently communicate them. After a few moments, Fenris's fingers brought down her hair and he twisted the tendrils so that the silken strands caught and refracted the light of that wondrously bright moon, sparkling like gossamer ropes made of diamond.
Aria smoothed her hand across his chest and drew her knee across his hips, curling her body against his. He ran his free hand up her thigh to her hip, pulling her even closer. The scent of her hair was intoxicating as it mingled with the sweet perfume of the meadow flowers around them. Tears sparkled like unshed diamonds in the corners of her eyes and he desperately wanted to take away her pain. The heat of her body contrasted with the cool breeze of the night and gooseflesh rose over his arms. He trembled—not from cold, but from wanting her. All of her.
His fingers found the bindings of the armour at the back of her neck and he gently plucked at them. She stilled at the gesture, frozen until he finished. He lifted her breastplate away, laying it softly next to them. She sat up then and looked down into his eyes, searching.
"I love you," he softly said, reaching up to cup her chin, his thumb deftly swiping her tears away.
"I love you," she whispered in reply, sniffling as she gazed down at him. She helped him sit up then and the heat in his gaze stole her breath. Her fingers found the hem of his under-armour tunic and she lifted it over his head, carefully depositing it on the breastplate he'd just removed from her.
In the moonlight, here in this sacred, peaceful place, he looked... As Aria imagined the gods of the Elvhen looked. Fractals of moonlight glinted off the contours of his pectorals and abdominals. It caught in shining, tiny spheres of light on the tips of the fine hair that stood out in gooseflesh down his torso, on his face, down his arms. The white-blue light from the lyrium rivulets embedded in his skin glowed, lending an alien depth to his lethal beauty. Aria just stared at him for a few moments, awestruck and helpless.
"Aria?" came his voice. He smoothed her hair away from her face, his eyes searching hers.
"Maker," she whispered, overwhelmed with the power of the moment. "You're the most beautiful thing ever created."
He chuckled at this and lowered his lips to hers, sparking a soft, searing exchange. His hands slipped down her arms then to her waist, and finally, to the hem of the tank she wore beneath the chest plate. He pulled it slowly over her head and tossed it onto the growing pile of clothing. She shivered and moved to cover herself with her arms but he stopped her, flaring the lyrium and flooding her with heat.
"Don't... Hide yourself from me," he whispered then, cradling her to him so that he could unclasp the brassiere she wore. She shivered again, this time for an entirely different reason, as his hands removed the binding. It slipped off her shoulders and down to her elbows under the swift guidance of his nimble fingers, baring her breasts to him. He groaned when the peaks were revealed, ripping the garment to the side and reverently lowering his head.
Aria bit back the soft cry that rose in her throat when his mouth seized one painfully erect tip, her hands finding purchase in the heavy muscles of his shoulder blades. His tongue lathed over the sensitive bud and her head fell back in ecstasy, baring her throat to him.
Teeth nipped the sinewy column of her neck then as Fenris lowered her beneath him in the grass. It occurred to him then that they had never done something like this before. Always, they had been discrete, making love behind closed doors, in private. Here was just as private, was it not? Away from camp, away from the city, with nothing but the wooded landscape around them... The thrill of novelty fueled him and he tore himself away from her to look down at her, to take it all in.
She'd called him the most beautiful thing ever created, but she couldn't see herself. The light radiated off her alabaster skin and silver hair as if it came from within her, rather than simply reflecting off her. Her ochre eyes appeared as molten pools of silver and amber, pupils impossibly wide as she regarded him. He straddled her hips, watching the rapid rise and fall of her collar bone, her breasts, the expansion of her rib cage as she breathed. Enchanting. Delicious. His.
He traced a path with the fleshy pad of one rough fingertip from her chin, down her throat, between her breasts, to the sinewy expanse of her belly, circling the small dip that was her navel, until he reached the fly of her breeches. She shivered beneath him, not from cold, he'd seen to that. As he flicked the buttons of her pants open, he slid his seat down, resting atop her thighs so that he could finish. She lifted her hips when he tugged at the waistband, helping him free her from the offending grasp of cloth. He took the liberty of snagging her underwear with them and at last she lay naked before him. A goddess of the night and the hunt, bared just for him. Trembling for him. Needing him.
The power he wielded in that moment was exhilarating, intoxicating. The goddess before him was his. Only his. And he could take her. He could take her however and whenever he wanted. And Fenris wanted her now. He smoothed one battle-calloused palm up her calf to her knee, pushing it slowly away from the other, his eyes drinking in every detail of her form. The suppleness of her skin, the way her belly twitched with her excited breathing, the fine trembling that had taken the muscles beneath his touch. He dropped his torso closer to her hips, using his other hand to gently spread her other leg, exposing her shining, slicked sex openly to him. He lowered his lips to her navel and kissed a hot trail down her lower abdomen. He groaned when hips writhed a sensuous to-and-fro rhythm, yearning for more. Her fingers entangled themselves in the reckless halo of silvery-white hair that adorned his head as he moved lower, further excited by the heat of his breath against her vulnerable skin.
Aria keened when his tongue found her slick center, her body arching against him of its own accord. He growled at the sound, a guttural, feral, foreign oath whispered against her womanhood and his tongue continued its plunder. Her hips rocked up to meet his mouth and the pleasure he delivered severed her from sense and reason. Fenris pinned her hips with his hands, immobilizing her, drunk on adrenaline, on pleasure, on the knowledge that he had this power over her. He and he alone could elicit this from her, do this to her. She was his.
But a few breaths later, he felt her tighten, her breathing ragged, and he knew she was close. Far too quickly. This was not about easy, fast relief. No. He wanted to ravage her, make these precious moments last as long as he could stand. He pulled away then and she whimpered, cursing him for his teasing, begging him for release. He chuckled against her inner thigh, drawing an index finger brazenly down the center of her slit and eliciting a deep shudder that racked her whole body. He slowly pressed the same finger inside her, his eyes darting to her face so he could witness her response.
Aria's head snapped back and her hips lifted, her back arching into the beautiful intrusion. She bit her bottom lip to stem the cries threatening to tear free of her throat. Fenris pulled away again, his own need making it difficult to focus as his engorged state left the front of his pants painfully tight. He sat up and pulled Aria to him so that she sat in front of him. He guided her hands to his waistband and she needed no more encouragement.
Aria wasted no time in unbinding him. She all but ripped off the breeches and undergarments he wore in her haste. She hadn't ever been this wild before and she fought to control herself, but couldn't. He'd somehow managed to ratchet it up a level this evening. Everything felt new and exciting and she wanted nothing more than to have him buried to the hilt inside her until they both found relief. She wanted this. Needed it. Now.
But Fenris had other ideas. Normally their lovemaking was an equal give and take, an exchange, a conversation. However tonight he wanted control. He wanted to drag this out, to make it... Good. No, that was insufficient. To make it so memorable, the best ever, to set the bar higher. He held her at arm's length when she attempted to straddle his naked lap and she protested, managing to seize his mouth with hers instead.
The control he'd wrested from her began to slip in the wake of the war she waged against his mouth with her clever, quick tongue. He hissed against her lips when her fingers closed around his painfully swollen shaft. Her touch was light, teasing, her thumb swirling around the sensitive tip with expert precision. Aria knew his body as well as her own and his pleasure was something she'd studied with undying devotion.
He snarled and fell forward, dragging her beneath him and pinning her. He seized her mouth with his, soft whimpers coming from her lips as they kissed again and her legs wrapped around his waist. He sought to pin her hips again and she tore her mouth from his.
"Slow down," he hissed, wrestling her to stillness beneath him, a soft moan escaping on the wake of the command as he took the moment to stare down at the goddess beneath him. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, limbs trembling.
"Fenris," she heatedly whispered, looking up into his eyes. "Please."
At this, his resolve shattered. Making her beg was something he didn't have the heart to do. She should never have to beg him for anything.
"I'll come too quickly," he whispered in response, a deep groan tearing from his lips as her slick heat ground against his erection.
"Then we can go again," she sighed, rolling them both so that she was above him.
"I want to enjoy this. I want you to enjoy this," he murmured as she began to position her hips over his.
Aria stilled at this and she suddenly understood. Slowly, she slid down his body, kissing the lines of sinew that stood out on his abdomen. He groaned when her breasts brushed his swollen member and she repeated the motion several more times until he was breathing like he'd just sprinted a mile.
Only then did she move lower, flicking her tongue across his sensitive tip, smiling as his hips bucked. He levered himself up on his elbows so that he could watch her, see her face. Her eyes darted playfully up to his and he watched, entranced, as she slowly drew him into her mouth. His head lolled back and he flexed his hips into her, much the same way she had moments before when he'd been the aggressor. He felt her lips peel back in a smile as she began to suckle, a deep, slow rhythm.
"Aria... Please... Not yet," he panted, even as he drove himself up to meet the hungry heat of her mouth.
She slowly released him, planting hot, searing kisses on the inside of his thigh. She could feel his pulse there and it was hammering. His thighs trembled. He sat up then, his own desperation evident in the way he pulled her to him, his lips swollen and needy as they claimed hers.
After but a moment, he tore himself away from her and turned her so that her back was to him. Gently, he pressed her forward and she complied, sighing as his teeth nipped at her shoulders and his chest and belly ground against the sinew of her back. He grabbed her hips and pulled them slightly upward, then in one swift motion, buried himself deeply within her.
Aria gasped at the rough intrusion and arched against him. This was what she wanted. All of him. Deeply inside her, frantic, hungry. His hands covered hers in the grass and he pinned her beneath him, driving slow and hard. She met him with equal fervor and he reared up behind her, one hand gently circling her throat while the other traced the magical tattoo between her shoulder blades.
Aria couldn't help herself. Maker, she needed this. A thorough, deep claiming where she didn't have to worry about being in control. The wolf was eating her alive and she just wanted more. She gave herself over to him and focused solely on the pleasure his body brought to hers. He fell forward again, driving deeply, crushing her with his need, his teeth finding purchase again in the muscle that connected her shoulder to her neck, but still he resisted the release. He wanted more. He wanted it to last.
He separated himself from her again, rolling her so that they faced one another. Her eyes were heavily lidded and her lips parted as she watched his gaze rake over her. He'd never been like this before. This... Wild. This...dominating. He traced her lips with his finger tips, obliging the hungry lift of her hips with a matched movement of his. He lowered his mouth to her breast, flicking his tongue playfully at the darkened, erect tip while he slipped one hand down her stomach, finding the not of nerves there at the vee of her thighs with familiar ease. She bucked against him, taking him deeper, and he felt her clench around him as he pleasured her further.
Her breath came in shallow gasps after a moment and he lifted himself so that he could see her face. He wanted to watch her lose control, to see what he could elicit from her. He drove harder then and she met his thrusts, picking up speed.
"Tell me when," he whispered hotly, feeling her growing maddeningly tight around him. He was so close. She was so close.
She moaned in response, her sex tightening in deep, rhythmic spasms in time with his thrusts, her hand shooting up to grab him by the back of the neck. She drew him down so that their foreheads touched, her hips matching his, his fingers still mercilessly rubbing swift circles over her clit.
"Tell me," Fenris groaned the command, release imminent. He bit the inside of his cheek to stem the tide. Shift the focus for but a breath.
Aria gasped as the climax hit her and she wrapped herself as tightly around him as she could, his mouth finding hers in time to stifle the cries that would have come from both of them. She all but screamed against his mouth as the orgasm ripped through her. Her entire body contorted with the beautiful, violent release and she tore him over the edge with her. He ripped his mouth from hers as the peak then hit him, burying his head against the side of her neck. Impassioned Tevene slipped from his lips in a torrent as the violent, beautiful climax twisted his psyche asunder. In its wake, he collapsed over her, spent, undone, his chest heaving and his heart hammering so wildly against his sternum, he thought it might fly from his chest.
Beneath him, Aria fared no better, her core hot and full, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She shuddered as an aftershock of the pleasure rippled through her, drawing a wanton groan from Fenris, who was a happy casualty to the effect. He rolled then, his steely grip keeping her hips flush with his so that they stayed intimately entwined as they faced each other on their sides. He smoothed the wild, sweat-slicked hair from her face so that he could gaze into her eyes. She stared back at him, lids heavily lidded, still awash in the glowing aftermath, a sly, wanton smile on her lips even as she breathed heavily. Her hand caressed the side of his face lovingly and he pressed his lips to delicate skin of her wrist, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive flesh.
Another tremor went through her then and they both tightened together, Aria's eyes squeezing closed in pleasure and Fenris's breath hitched in his chest. Softly radiant heat blossomed in her lower belly and down her thighs, which trembled from a combination of the exertion and the pleasure of their lovemaking. Fine tremors went through him as well, his own body reeling from the toll this particular session had taken.
It took quite some time for them to come down from their orgasmic high, simply clinging to each other, soft touches and sweet kisses. Dew was beginning to form on the blades of grass around them before they had recovered enough to disentangle.
"What...was that?" Aria breathily whispered when she could finally speak again.
Fenris chuckled and slowly sat up, turning to look down at her. The moon was below the treeline now, though he could still easily make out the finer points of her...anatomy. He took the liberty of smoothing his palm up her belly until he cupped one generous breast, loath to leave this place, loath to let her body be covered from his view again. Aria grinned lazily up at him, then covered his hand with hers, her eyes drifting closed in pleasure as his thumb wound slow, ardent circles around her sensitive nipple.
"I love you," he simply murmured in response, his eyes drinking in her bared form again. He couldn't get enough of looking at her, not tonight. The evening had been... Magical. Perfect. Wild. For the moment, he wanted to stay here like this forever, lost in this secret place with her for eternity.
She opened her eyes and did nothing to stop the languid smile that spread her lips when her sultry, sated gaze met his ever-hungry stare. "I love you," she breathed.
He released her then and started gathering their clothes. Across the meadow, the deer still grazed, though they lifted their heads and flicked their ears in the couple's direction every few seconds. Blush crept into Aria's cheeks at this, feeling judged by the soft dark eyes viewing them in the near distance. Then she berated herself, straightening her shoulders as she defied them. She would not be shamed by a damn food animal, no matter how regal, wild, or beautiful they were.
"They don't care. Come autumn, they rut around worse than we ever have and they don't care who's watching," Fenris chuckled as he studied both Aria and the deer. He handed her the undergarments and brassiere she'd worn then watched her don them, rendered nearly bereft as her skin tragically disappeared from his sight. The magic was broken and they'd have to return to reality again.
"I don't care what a damn deer thinks," Aria snorted, pulling her tank over her head. She stood and shimmied into her breeches, then searched for her leather breastplate.
Fenris softly laughed, working to pull his own clothes on, but said nothing more on the subject. A few moments later, they were both dressed again and made their way back to the camp. Anders and Varric snored in their tents and the fire was burning low in the hastily dug pit they'd made. Fenris stoked the fire back to life and Aria tossed on a few more logs.
When Fenris took her hand and made to lead her to their tent she resisted, staring up at the sky. The moon would set soon and the stars would be even brighter. He followed her gaze and smiled.
"I'll fetch the bedrolls, then," he quietly stated, leaving her to her stargazing for the moment.
He returned a few moments later and they bedded down just outside the roaring fire's light. Fenris lay on his back, one arm under his small pillow behind his head, the other draped around his wife. She lay with her back against him, her head tucked against his chest, one leg thrown possessively across his hips, her eyes on the sky.
"Sleep," he whispered after a few moments. Aria didn't have to be told twice.
Ooooo
"You know, that's what I love about you two. No matter how much you fight, I can always count on a happy couple in the morning," Varric said, standing over them. He gently kicked at Fenris's foot. "Up and at 'em."
Behind them the fire crackled merrily and the scent of eggs and bacon wafted on the cool morning breeze. The sun was just about to break free of the treeline and treat them with its early morning warmth. Aria opened one eye to regard the dwarf and groaned. She moved to sit up but Fenris pulled her back down, his arms snapping her to him like a steel trap. He reverently kissed the top of her head, then released her.
Aria smiled timidly, sighed, and stood, sloughing off the thick blanket. She stretched, then turned to help pull her husband to his feet. Once up, they both brushed their teeth together, still not saying a word to either each other or anyone else. Together they broke down the camp while Varric and Anders tended to breakfast. Varric eyed them suspiciously while they worked and Aria ignored the pointed stares he sent her way.
"What?" Anders finally asked him, agitated with his ogling as much as Aria was.
"Do they seem... Different to you this morning?" Varric replied, pitching his voice lower.
"I hadn't noticed," Anders growled. He had been pointedly ignoring them both, in fact.
"No, I mean it, Blondie," Varric entreated. "Just...watch."
Anders sighed and looked up, humoring the dwarf and choosing to watch Aria over Fenris. She was kneeling on one of the canvas tent sides and bent over just then to begin rolling it up towards her, careful to keep the roll tight. One of Anders's brows shot up in leering amusement as his eyes appreciated the curve of her derriere. Varric thumped him on the chest for his glaring indiscretion. Fenris looked up at the sound, his expression annoyed.
"Nope. No difference," Anders coughed, managing an insolent grin at the elf. He returned to stirring the scrambled eggs in the pan.
Varric snorted and said no more, though he continued observing. The tension that had existed between them the night previous was completely gone. They worked together, happily, without needing words. Fenris was even... Openly affectionate with her. Nowhere near his customary reserve.
"Hawke!" he suddenly cried, drawing not just hers, but everyone's attention.
"What?" Aria exasperatedly replied, finishing tying off the tent roll and tossing it in with the rest of the gear. She threw her arms up, annoyed.
"Are you pregnant again?" Varric bluntly asked.
Aria froze and regarded him, her expression completely aghast. "Varric, what the fuck is wrong with you today?"
At this, Anders couldn't help the laughter that burst from his lips. Even Fenris deigned to emit a low, amused chuckle. Aria couldn't understand why they found anything in the exchange funny, so she returned to her work, ignoring them all now. Varric sat back against the log with a smug smirk on his face. He picked at the dirt beneath his fingernails with the tip of one of his bolts.
"Nope. That isn't it. Hmmm," he mused loudly to himself, shiftily eyeing Aria as she moved about, finishing packing up.
"Nothing is different. Nothing has changed. Is breakfast done yet?" Aria testily said as she joined the rest of them at the cook fire. Fenris handed her a tin plate laden with scrambled eggs and burnt bacon. Just the way she liked. "Thank you," she murmured, kissing him on the cheek and tucking into the food.
Varric still studied her, making no effort to hide the fact. Fenris in turn studied him, doing his best to make the dwarf uncomfortable with the added scrutiny. The elf had the piercing, intense stare down to an artform.
"Honestly, dwarf," Fenris said. "Nothing has changed."
"How come you didn't sleep in your tent last night?" Varric asked then, changing tactics.
"Stargazing," Aria garbled through a mouthful of eggs, annoyance flashing in her eyes. "We do that all the time."
"Couldn't see much of them when we went to bed. Moon was too bright," Varric retorted, finding holes in their logic.
"It wasn't out for long last night," Anders added in their defense. He'd know. He followed lunar cycles religiously as it was a beloved hobby of his. "Wait a couple hours for it to set and poof. Perfect view."
Varric grunted but still wasn't convinced. Aria looked at Fenris, perplexed, her brows knitted together. Fenris just shrugged and finished his breakfast, unperturbed. Varric had a bug up his butt and there was nothing anyone could do about it except let him work it out for himself. Aria worried for a moment that their companion might have been poisoned. Or maybe he was hallucinating. But no, the dwarf seemed fine, otherwise.
They made great time getting up to the Dalish encampment. Aria wondered idly why the Dales were even still here. It was her understanding that the Dalish were travelers, nomads who never lingered in one place for fear of shemlen raids and slavers. Marethari's clan had all but taken up permanent residence in the mountain pass here. Aria set a mental note to ask Merrill about it when they got back to town.
They located Variel easily enough and she seemed to recognize Aria. She was a strawberry blond, mature young elven woman of obvious Dalish heritage. Her vallaslin surrounded her eyes and feathered onto her cheekbones in whimsically done vines. Her hair was kept short and was a couple shades lighter than Aveline's flaming locks.
"Greetings, Champion," Variel said as Aria approached. "That is what they call you in your city, isn't it?"
"Yes, but please," Aria said, taking the hand she extended in greeting and briefly gripping forearms. "Just call me Aria. Or Hawke."
"Aria, then. Did you need something?"
"Actually, yes. I'm sorry to trouble you, but—I hear there's a criminal hiding here, among the Dalish," Aria diplomatically replied.
"He is not among the Dalish," Variel said, emphasizing the last word. "This criminal of yours is set up in a cave away from our camp. He said there would be people looking for him and to tell anyone who asked where he was."
At this, Aria quirked a brow. "I thought the point of hiding was not to be found."
"He said he didn't want to endanger our people by asking us to lie for him," Variel quipped, her smile amused, as though she alone was privy to the rules of some game they were playing. "Not something you'd expect from a cruel and evil murderer, is it?"
This gave Aria pause and she turned briefly to regard her companions. Fenris crossed his arms over his chest and she could almost hear his thoughts. We're being played... Varric pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, an audible sigh escaping his lips. Anders avoided her.
"He'll be waiting for you at the cave. Good luck trying to reach him, however," Variel continued when Aria turned back around. She turned on her heel and sauntered away towards one of the aravels, decidedly refusing to grace them with a backwards glance.
Aria groaned in trepidation and turned back to her companions. "Thoughts?" she queried, turning for the caves.
"This assasin is strange, indeed. Why would he give away his position?" Fenris said as they started in the direction that Variel indicated.
"I don't like this," Anders sing-songed behind them.
"If it's a trap or an ambush, it isn't a very good one," Varric replied. "And stop jinxing us. Nothing good ever came after singing 'I don't like this.;"
"Let's just go talk to him, hmm?" Aria interjected. "Maybe he'll surprise us. I had a feeling Nuncio was a rat."
Wicked, venomous spiders assaulted them as they approached the cave and it took an unnerving amount of time to dispatch them. Normally, a few stabs in some crucial spots was enough. Not today, apparently. Varric sustained a nasty bite to his shoulder that took no small effort from Anders to purge the venom and heal the wound. Aria had found herself almost trampled by two of them, who worked in tandem to take her down; the speed with which they moved was ferocious and terrifying. She'd managed to gut one while Fenris beheaded the other.
"Am I just out of practice or were those things more monstrous than normal?" Aria quipped as Fenris pulled her away from the mess of arachnid entrails.
"Those were definitely not normal," Varric snorted, ruefully inspecting the new holes in his duster.
"I'll get you a better one when we get back to Kirkwall," Aria sighed, speaking to the unspoken lament written on the dwarf's features.
"I love this coat," Varric growled, shuddering. "Fuck those bugs. Let's go."
They entered the cave and encountered yet more of the eight-legged freaks. However with their collective ire piqued, these were neutralized far more quickly. They descended further into the cave and the earth beneath them shook.
Aria groaned as the sense of deja vu washed over her. "Didn't we kill that thing once already?"
"Yup," Varric lamented. "Looks like we get to do it again."
It took yet another hour to finally bring the beast down. By that point, Aria was ready to murder the supposed criminal elf out of sheer spite. Precious time ticked away from them, an inexorable weight on her heart. While she had been eager for the adventure at first, she now just wanted this endeavor over so she could return home to her son. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to chase the fugitive any further. Mere seconds after the varterral was down, the elf appeared
"Now you, I wasn't expecting," the sandy-blond, Antivan elf glibly said as he sauntered up to the crew. "How do you do? My name is Zevran Arainai. Adventurer and occasional assassin."
Aria regarded him testily, but before she could speak, Anders cut in.
"I've heard about you. You helped the Hero of Ferelden stop the Blight," came the mage's voice, full of admiration.
Zevran bowed with a flourish, the light in his pale gold eyes playful. "At your service, my friend," he continued, then regarded Aria curiously. "I must admit, I was waiting for an assault by the crows, not the mighty Champion of Kirkwall."
"How do you know I'm the Champion?" Aria pressed, taking a cautionary step back and adjusting the grip on her daggers.
"Slayer of Qunari, Deep Roads explorer and," his accent thickened, "A beauty to make the Gods jealous. You underestimate your fame." The last was delivered with a silver-tongue, an attempt at seduction made.
Anders chuckled behind her, no doubt enjoying the needling this did to Fenris. A smug grin from Varric. The Tevinter elf remained stoic and Aria sighed and decided to ignore the implied innuendo.
"I'm assuming that when you say Crows, you aren't talking about actual birds," she quipped in response.
At this, Zevran was clearly affronted. His hands went up, his expression incredulous. "Oh, please, do not tell me you know nothing about the Antivan Crows! "
Aria arched an eyebrow. He continued.
"We are the finest guild of assassins! An object of fear throughout the lands," he railed, the insult deeply personal. "Well, for any man with—wealthy enemies, that is." He chuckled, self-satisfied, and continued, "Or I should say, they are. I am no longer a Crow. A fact they find unacceptable."
Aria regarded him a moment, silently studying. He waggled his brows at her suggestively and behind her, she heard an aggravated sigh escape Fenris's lips.
"There must be more to it than you just leaving the guild," Aria pressed.
Zevran's expression waxed suddenly severe. "That is offense enough to the Crows. Believe me," then, his tone brighter, playful again, "I may also have killed the last four assassins they sent after me. And, uh, all their men. Oh, and the guild master." He paused, watching how this news affected her and when she didn't react, he continued, a hint of laughter in his tone. "In fact, if you were a Crow, you might make quite the fortune bringing me in. You should consider a career change!" Then, he haughtily laughed, a glib smile taking his features. "No, really."
A shift in tactics seemed most prudent to Aria, so she decided to rib him and see how he reacted. "I thought you'd be taller."
"Ahhhhh," the Antivan drawled, flashing a slow, knowing grin. "Let me guess: A man named Nuncio has asked you to capture a dangerous killer, yes?"
When Aria didn't respond, he continued, pacing restlessly in front of her, his feathers thoroughly ruffled.
"What did he say this time? That I killed his wife? Butchered his parents? Sold his children into slavery? Or," a different tenor, less agitated, more cunning, "Did he tell you he was a law man from Antiva, charged with apprehending a ridiculously handsome fugitive?"
"I suppose you aren't a murderer at all, then?" Aria replied, again ignoring the blatant flirtation.
"Oh, indeed I am," Zevran silkily stated. "But, technically, I imagine everyone here can rightfully claim that title. Bring me to Nuncio if you wish. But I warn you: He surely intends to kill you. The Crows do not like loose ends," then as an aside, his eyebrows waggling again, "Unlike myself. But, you are a woman who can clearly handle herself, yes? Hmm? Why worry? So, you can either tie me up, gag me, and then manhandle me, or you can take me to Nuncio. Which will it be, I wonder?"
"You're...very compliant for a fugitive," Aria commented. Varric snorted and Aria pinched her nose between her forefingers. Of course he'd take it that way.
"Compliant, yes. And very bendy," Zevran purred in response. He sobered then, "But truthfully, I know when I am outmatched. I would rather take my chances with the Crows."
"Fuck, don't make me regret this," Aria cursed, turning to head back the way they'd came. "I'm not going to hand you over to someone who lied to me."
The party followed her, Zevran skipping alongside her in such a way that she was presently reminded of Merrill's antics. When she was happy. Which wasn't much anymore. That's where the similarities began and ended.
"As a suggestion," Zevran darkly stated, drawing up beside Aria, "You might wish to deal with Nuncio. If you don't—he will only come after you."
Aria grunted at this and they left the cave together. When it was clear they were heading in different directions, Zevran bowed deeply, offering her a cheeky smile. "It's been more than a pleasure, Champion. Fare you well."
They watched him go, none of them too keen about the prospect of having the assassin at their backs. It was only when he'd disappeared from sight that they dispensed with the usual looting. Aria came away from the endeavor six sovereigns and some silvers richer; the weight of the coin a reassuring thing as it bounced against the meat of her thigh.
"Hawke, I don't think you could be more of a danger magnet if you tried," Varric chuckled once they'd cleared the Dalish Camp again.
Aria glowered at him but said nothing. Fenris stalked beside her, still jealously bristling over the encounter. He hadn't directly interfered because Aria was handling it, but he couldn't promise he would remain so idle in future encounters, should they occur. If that conniving, murderous Antivan made the slightest innuendo more...
"I thought he was quite charming," came Anders's snarky input. "Very bendy."
"Quiet, mage," Fenris growled in warning.
A hollow laugh barked from the healer's lips. "Or what?"
"Enough!" Aria snapped. "Back to task. It'll be nightfall soon and we need to get to Nuncio's camp."
The three men watched her stride away. Varric and Anders exchanged perplexed looks. Aria was normally an eager participant in their verbal sparring matches, often striving to be the victor in the one-upmanship of their friendly insults. Fenris watched her speed ahead of them a few paces, then swung his head to regard the other two.
"What's her problem?" Varric asked, snorting. They all moved to catch up to the woman.
"Probably didn't get enough sleep last night," Anders laughed. "She's always fussy when she doesn't get enough sleep."
Fenris stayed suspiciously silent. Varric studied him, a cocky grin lifting one corner of his mouth.
"Is that true?" the dwarf finally asked, huffing as they went up a small incline in the trail.
"What?" Fenris monotoned in response, refusing to look either of them in the eye.
"Did you—keep her up past her bedtime?" Varric needled, eyebrows lifting with a suggestive smirk.
"Perhaps she was the one to keep me up," Fenris retorted, glaring playfully at the smaller man.
"Ha! I knew it!" chortled Varric. "You were both still glowing when I woke you this morning."
"Not another word, dwarf," the elven warrior admonished.
Deciding against pressing his luck with the ferreting of further detail, Varric deemed it wise to let this one go. He settled for smiling impishly and they soon caught up to Aria. The sun was nearly set behind the mountainous terrain to their west when they located the Crows' camp.
One of the scouts on watch called out as they came into view. Alerted, Nuncio strode purposefully towards Aria, the light in his eyes furious when he saw she was sans evil, murderous elf. She could all but hear his thoughts: The little Fereldan bitch had failed. And now, she had the audacity to approach him empty-handed.
A slow, unapologetic, possibly deranged grin spread Aria's lips, her teeth flashing dangerously. "I let your assassin go. Oops... Was I not supposed to do that?"
At first, the incredulity of her actions left the man wide-eyed and speechless, but rage followed quickly on its heels. "You had him?!" Nuncio bellowed, his ire flaring as his voice continued, "And you let him go?! I am thoroughly disappointed. No one fails the Crows and lives!"
Laughter rang out from their flank and they all turned their attention to its source. Zevran appeared, moving with the same lethal, predatory grace Aria often recognized in her husband. Her respect for him grew. So long as he didn't talk. And that...was bound not to happen.
"Ah, poor, stupid Nuncio. The Crows do like that saying, but I'm living proof that is a lie," the rogue elf crooned, clicking his tongue. He turned to Aria. "Why they insist on thinking they can kill people like you and the Warden, I will never guess."
Aria quirked a brow, and looked back at Nuncio. "Let me tell you, it's a burden I bear on a daily basis."
Nuncio ignored her, his next words aimed at Zevran. "You're nothing but a traitor and a coward, Zevran. You'll die here!"
The assassin who sneaked up behind the Dalish elf didn't have a chance. Zevran whirled and whipped a throwing knife at the man, the motion swift and clean. The blade's aim was true, and buried itself to the hilt in the man's eye socket. He fell at Zevran's feet. The elven assassin turned and spoke once more to Nuncio.
"Yes, well, let's see how that works out for you," Zevran cheekily responded.
"Mmmm... They're playing my favorite song," Aria purred as she crossed blades with the assassin closest to her.
It wasn't a long battle. The spiders and varterral were harder. As the last man fell, Zevran called to them all.
"Now I'm sure you wish to loot the camp, yes? Talk to me when you're done."
Aria winked at him and she and her companions proceeded to lighten the burdens of the handful of dead assassins. Coin purses jingling, new weapons and enchanted jewelry acquired, they met Zevran at the edge of the camp.
"All done?" the elf asked when they convened.
Aria jingled her coin purse with a smirk in response.
"Excellent. Killing my former brothers-in-arms is oddly satisfying," Zevran crooned, his light gold eyes shimmering with mirth. "I've... Little in reward to offer you, Champion, but perhaps this will serve as a token of my thanks."
Aria took the small pouch he offered, not bothering checking it at the moment. She didn't want to be rude, afterall.
"It is time for me to move on," he sadly stated, his eyes giving her the once over from head to toe again. "Unless," his fingers coyly touching his lips, "You'd care to eh...Get to know each other better, Champion?"
"That depends," Fenris snarled from next to her. "How much do you wish to test that luck of yours?
"Oh, I see!" Zevran back-pedaled, though a wolfish smile still lit his features. "Fair enough then. It is time to move on, as they say. I've a little war to wage back home and so little time." He bowed deeply. "Perhaps we'll meet again, Champion."
And with that, the odd saga of Zevran Arainai concluded. He disappeared over the next rise without so much as a backward glance. Aria immediately started for Kirkwall. With any luck, they could be back by mid-morning tomorrow. She planned to go through the night, Maker be damned.
Fenris fell easily into step beside her. She glanced over at him, offering him a tired smile.
"Let's go home," she whispered.
"I couldn't agree more," he quietly replied.