Hello! Thank you for reading if you've stayed with me so far, I really appreciate it! This chapter is rated M for adult reasons, so beware! [Enjoy!]
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"Okay, Robin. I am physically feeling pain, watching you two. Please, for the love of the Maker, tell me what's going on," Varric asked her, sitting next to her at the bar in the Hanged Man. She bowed her head and drank from her tankard, and he could visibly see the tension in her shoulders. Varric had noticed the coldness between her and Fenris, since it was an extreme contrast to their usual warmth.
"I told him, Varric." She glanced over at him, expecting a reaction. He blinked for a second as he understood.
"You… you what?!" he stood from the bar. "You told him?! Your past?!" he looked hurt. "Before old Varric?"
She smiled sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder. She looked like she had just come from a day long battle; her shoulders slumped, her face pale. "Don't worry. You're next."
Her smile died as she said this, and Varric sobered. "Yeah, okay. Let's go to the room in the back."
They weaved in between drunken bodies and spills of ale, and climbed the stairs to the private room Varric stayed in. He let her in, and he offered her a seat at the table, near the fire.
"Give me one second," he murmured as he grabbed a pen and parchment. Lyra rolled her eyes at him, and he winked at her.
"How do you know I'm not about to tell you the most anti-climatic story known to man?"
"Oh my dear, I can smell a good story a mile away."
They settled after Varric had set a fire, and he gave her his full attention. She began to fidget from nerves, which was strange; she felt very comfortable around the kind dwarf.
"Just start anywhere," he suggested, and she nodded.
She cleared her throat. "Alright, it all begins in a dense forest, in a small Dalish clan…"
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"That's the last question, Varric, I will not tell you anything about the King's and my relationship, no matter how many times you ask," she frowned at him, but he was not about to give up. She had seen him excited before, but he was absolutely shining with enthusiasm at her story. He had asked so many questions for details she didn't think important that it had taken her two full hours to relay what she had taken just a few minutes to tell Fenris.
"Alright alright, fine, but just, your story is so romantic, full of heroes and kings and maidens and dragons, you don't realize what a great…" he stopped when he saw her expression. She smiled sadly, but it did not reach her eyes.
"I understand, Varric. It's just really painful to talk about it."
He deflated and reached across the table to hold one of her hands. She met his eyes with her tired ones. "Forgive me, Lyra. I've been insensitive. I can get carried away." He rubbed her hand comfortingly. She smiled at him.
"Nothing to forgive. Thank you for hearing me out. I am sorry it took me so long to find the balls to own up to my past."
Varric shook his head. "Hell, the Hero has had to have major balls to deal with half the shit that was thrown your way. Like, darkspawn. The dwarfs can't even handle that shit."
Lyra chuckled and waved his words away, smiling at him. "Please, I did what any lovesick fighter would have done to survive."
Varric's eyes widened and he furiously scribbled her quote down, and she laughed loudly.
"Gods, I'm going to see this tattooed on your ass someday, won't I."
"I'd sooner get your face tattooed on my ass, but, thank you, though, for your permission."
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Fenris stared at the door she and the dwarf had entered more than two hours ago. What are they doing. Is she telling him?
He downed the rest of his drink impatiently, ignoring whatever Hawke and Anders were talking about next to him. He started when he heard her name, however, and turned his attention to his companions.
"Oh, finally! It takes mentioning her to get your attention," Anders remarked, and Fenris glared at him.
"What do you want."
Hawke drank from his tankard, his blues peering at him curiously. "Your brooding is stronger than your usual, Fenris. We're just worried."
"Leave me be. It is nothing that concerns you." he said, harsher than he meant. Anders got up, eyes rolling.
"Gladly. I need another drink from your gloom and doom complex."
Fenris growled under his breath as the mage left them, and Hawke sighed and met his eyes. "What happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come now, Fenris, what happened between you and Lyra?"
Fenris sighed and slumped, utterly exhausted from the last two days he has spent mad at her. Talking about it to Hawke won't hurt. There's no one else I can really talk to, anyways.
"She is just, more than we thought." he looked away, knowing he couldn't tell Hawke specifics. He seemed to sense that, though.
"Is she in danger? Or are any of us in danger from her?" Hawke asked seriously. Fenris met his eyes, confused.
"No." He frowned. "No, she is not a danger to us, nor to anyone who doesn't deserve it, but that's not the point." He scratched his head. "She just kept so much from me- from us," he said lamely, looking away.
"Have you told her all of your darkest secrets?" Hawke asked, interested. Fenris looked at him. She doesn't know about the shadow warriors.
"I… no."
He paused, and Hawke just smiled at him. Fenris shook his head, and frowned.
"But she… the things she…" he looked away. "Forget it."
"I may not know what she said, but I don't believe she kept her past from us from bad intent." Hawke placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Fenris glanced at him. "All of us here, we are all here because we ran away from something. We are all just trying to survive to the next day, at the end of the day."
Fenris sighed heavily and felt a huge chunk of anger leave his system. He was left feeling empty.
"Damn you, Hawke." he met his eyes. He felt a smile tug at his lips. "Always making us feel like squabbling children."
"You all are squabbling children," Hawke said, and Fenris elbowed him. Just then, Varric and Lyra came stumbling out of the room, both of them chuckling. Lyra play slapped the dwarf's shoulder, and Varric laughed heartily. Fenris felt cold seeing her, and as he was looking at her, she glanced up and met his gaze. They both froze, and she broke the contact first, looking down and following Varric to the bar.
"When will she speak with me," he murmured to himself, and hadn't expected Hawke to respond when he did.
"How did your last conversation end?"
"I told her…" he sighed. "I told her I needed time to process everything." he glared at Hawke. "Yes, I realize that means I need to talk to her."
Hawke only chuckled and drank his ale.
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Fenris waited in the cold outside Hawke's mansion, pacing back and forth in front of the main door to keep warm. He knew she was in there talking with him, telling him her history. She was bound to come out sometime, and he was exhausted from his time away from her.
He was scowling at the snow that had just started falling when the door opened abruptly, the light from behind her silhouette bright and warm from inside the Hawke household. Lyra was waving behind her, and as she turned, her smile faded when she saw him. He felt his chest tighten as she averted her eyes, her hands coming together to wring themselves nervously.
"I… Hawke is about to leave to meet up with Aveline, if you're looking for him," she said quietly.
"I'm looking for you." she met his eyes, and he saw such cautious hope in them. "Can we try having that drink again?"
She seemed to relax, and she nodded. They turned to head towards Danarius's mansion, not far away in Hightown.
She covered her eyes with her hood to block the oncoming snow, and they walked quickly to get out of the cold. They reached his house and, as before, shed their armor and hung their things to dry. Fenris grabbed a bottle, Lyra took off her boots, and they found their way to the couch, like always. Fenris busied himself by starting the fire, unsure why his nerves were so anxious. He heard Lyra open the bottle behind him.
He stayed, crouched by the fire, his back facing her, and he sighed and closed his eyes.
"It was wrong of me to react that way."
He was met with silence, before she responded quietly.
"It was not. It is understandable for you to be angry with me."
He turned around and met her eyes. "I don't have the energy to do that. Nor the strength." He stood and joined her on the couch. It already felt unbelievably better to be near her. "And you don't deserve that. I should not be angry, especially when…" he looked away. "I haven't told you everything about me, either."
He saw her hand twitch in his peripheral vision. He met her eyes, squarely. "There have been things I've done, that I am ashamed of. And I haven't told you about them, yet. So it was unfair of me to be angry with you for doing what I haven't been strong enough to do."
Her brows upturned, and he had to look away from how beautiful her eyes were. He felt the lightest touch on his arm, and he looked at her fingers lighting on his forearm. He grasped her hand in his, and felt something fall into place within his chest as they touched. He breathed deeply, preparing himself to talk about a time in his life that caused him nightmares, to this day.
"Being a slave… when I escaped Danarius, I may have escaped the lifestyle of a slave, but it took more to escape the mentality." he scowled. He paused for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, and trying to form words. He frowned, and Lyra spoke.
"I do not want you to feel obligated to tell me something you do not wish to speak of, Fenris," she said, squeezing his hand. "
"I do not feel obligated. I...want to talk about it. Admit it. I owe them that much…" he met her eyes, feeling his soften from focusing on how the light from the fire flickered on her face.
She nodded and waited. She absently rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb, and he took comfort in the touch. He resumed.
"When I escaped, I took refuge with a group of shadow warriors, who fed me and protected me. They became my first friends, my first family." He closed his eyes. "Danarius eventually found me, like always. But while I had thought I was free of him, that he had no control over me… I was wrong. Very wrong."
He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together and bowing his head. "He took one look at me, and told me to murder them. Slaughter them. My precious friends, those who fought to protect me, and I didn't see anything, just my order, my next task to complete for my master."
Fenris spit to the side, then took the bottle Lyra offered him. He took a few gulps, then resumed his hunched position. He whispered his confession.
"I… slaughtered them. Like animals. Because he told me to. Because I'm still nothing more than a controlled slave."
Silence, as he stared into the bottle and watched the wine ripple from his trembling hands. He didn't want to look at Lyra, he feared what he might find; her barely concealing a look of disgust, or fear of him. He knew she would never outrightly show her disapproval, but he still feared it, more than he feared an oncoming arrow, or oncoming fireball.
"Have you come any closer to finding him?" she asked quietly.
"No." he sighed, and glanced at her. She was staring at the fire, lost in thought. "Though, who knows what I'll do when he finds me. Who knows what he'll try."
She met his eyes, but he saw none of the emotions he feared he would see in her. She only looked thoughtful. "You're already a different person than the last time he saw you. Don't think you haven't changed."
"Am I? I thought I was free then. I think I'm free now. But how will I ever know?"
Lyra nodded, showing she heard him. She stared off into the fire, reliving something. "The ghosts that haunt us…we may never know, fully."
"He is no ghost," he scowled, frustration building like it does whenever he thinks about that man still walking, breathing, living.
He felt the lightest touch on his arm, and he sighed before looking at her.
"This may be naive, but I don't think taking back the control from him has anything to do with him. It can be done whether he dies the worst death, or he lives forever."
"How can it not have anything to do with him?" Fenris's brows came together, confused. "He can't control me if he's rotting in the ground."
She frowned as well, thinking, trying to form words to voice her thoughts. He looked between her eyes and shook his head, clenching his hands into fists to brace himself for the pain this topic brought him. He growled, his voice low, low enough to hide the strain.
"He needs to die. He's the one who ran me into the ground. He's the one who made me believe I'm worth nothing."
He felt Lyra's gaze, waiting for him to look at her, and when he finally did, he met eyes that held his own so gently, like one would look upon a suffering loved one. Her eyes were soft and honest, and her voice was low, though hardened and firm, with conviction. "Well, you made me believe you are worth everything." she looked between his eyes, willing him to hear her. "You did that, Fenris; changed my life, gave me happiness, gave me hope. You can do the same for yourself, without him."
Fenris stared at her, his brows drawn together, his confusion colored with the very warm feeling he felt in the center of his chest from her compliment.
"You don't mean that." he said quietly and looked away, suddenly humble. The tips of his ears burned, his fingers tingled. Her voice was low as a whisper when she responded.
"I do."
He kept his eyes averted, but he looked up when he felt her gently take the bottle of wine from him. He watched her drink from it, and he felt the tension he felt from telling his story melt away from the warmth in his chest as he looked at her. She seemed to relax more than she had ever for the last few days, and he felt very happy that being with her made her feel better as well.
A stand of her hair reflected the light from the fire; the orange wave glinting brightly as she turned her face, her cheekbones blushed slightly from the heat, or the wine, or whatever else was also making him fluster. Her blue-greens peered over at him from behind the veil of red; the eyes curious and cautious, but ever so deep, like what he imagined the fathomless deep sea would look like. His hand twitched and reached out of its own accord, drifting over her own hand holding the wine bottle. Her deep seas watched him closely as he took the wine from her, and it felt like the breath was taken from his lungs when he removed his hand from hers.
Tearing his eyes away he drank heavily from the bottle, finishing the last quarter in a few gulps, before turning and setting down the bottle on the ground and turning back to her. He cleared his throat, his nerves rising in fear, his voice focused so it wouldn't shake.
"Lyra. What I feel for you…" he breathed in, looking back between her blue-greens. "What I feel for you only grows stronger by the week. By the day, by the hour, by the minute…"
He reached out and grasped her hand, her fingers easily yielding to his own. He looked down at them, running his thumb over her knuckles, and he shook his head, chest feeling like it was pressurized. Lyra, I want…
She intertwined their fingers, and when he glanced up he saw her staring down at them as well. Her fingertips brushed over his skin so lightly, causing shivers to run through to his chest. His gaze fell along her features, highlighted by the fire; her jawline, where he had held her face, her fingers, that had buried themselves in his hair, her eyes that finally rose to meet his, feeling his gaze on her.
He raised a hand and reached out to her cheek, the feeling of her skin shocking his sensitive system, her eyes looking brighter from the wine setting in. She turned her face towards his hand then, and kissed his palm, shooting a shock of pleasure down through to his toes and flooding his veins with heat.
Fenris leaned in and caught her lips quickly, kissing her before he would lose the nerve.
She gasped against his lips, and he moved his hands to the sides of her neck, feeling the edges of her jawline with his thumbs. He felt his stomach drop from how soft her lips were, how close they were on his couch. She kissed him back after a second, and she clutched the front of his tunic with her fingers, pulling him closer. His arms just naturally travelled to her back, embracing her, needing to feel more of her solid form. He knew her body very well by now, after fighting alongside her and watching how she moves. Her frame was taller than most elves, and every inch of her was covered in used muscle from her many years of fighting experience and rough travel. But the way her hands felt him, the way her lips caressed his; her affections were so soft and her body felt so malleable under his hands that he just couldn't believe...
He felt his body heat up from arousal; everything about her allured him. He broke their kiss by traveling his lips down to her jaw, along to under her ear, and he felt her body shiver along his. Her hands weaved through his hair, and massaged his scalp, her fingers searching for more, wanting more. Of what, he wasn't quite sure; but he knew, he wanted it too.
"Fenris…" she whispered breathily, and he felt his stomach flutter to pieces from hearing her voice saying his name, so warmly, so sensually…
Just then her hands turned from careful to decisive. They moved from caressing his neck to pushing against his chest, breaking their contact. She pushed them to a more horizontal position on the couch, leaning against him and kissing him fervently. It shocked his senses to feel her weight upon his chest, and he ran his hands up her back, running along her perfect curves and feeling his veins pulse from how heated he felt.
He had never felt so alive, so present in the moment as he did when he was with her. Nothing else existed; not his past, not the future, not Kirkwall, not anything, just this incredible person causing him to feel sensations he hadn't thought possible. His hands pressed her closer to him, his legs shifted, his body moved against hers, needing to feel friction, needing to feel every part of her.
His hands slipped under her shirt of their own will, feeling the smoothness of her lower back. She froze slightly from the skin contact, and he carefully ran a finger along her spine until he reached her breast band. She breathed in against his lips, but he kissed her, astonished that her small but sweet reactions just fueled him further and added to his arousal. In their kissing she lightly nipped his bottom lip, the sharpness electrifying, and his hands turned from cautious exploring to firmly holding her to him, his fingers gripping the curves of her waist.
Then, she shifted slightly on top of him, their bodies writhing, and he froze when she pressed her thigh against his painfully-sensitive hardened member under his trousers. He exhaled sharply and felt the heat in his limbs double instantly, and his hands gripped her more tightly than he meant to. She kissed him, and she shifted against him again, and he moaned into their kiss as his lower regions felt like electric currents were jolting through him, and without understanding what he was doing, pushed them until they were sitting up. He broke their kiss and he stood from the couch, her hands still gripping his shirt to prevent him from moving away. He met her eyes and nearly let his mouth fall open in awe when he saw them; shining so bright blue-green with a well of energy and pure desire. He found his voice as they both panted.
"This couch is too fucking small," he growled, bending down and grabbing her waist. He pulled her up and swept her off her feet, and she clutched at him as he carried her out of the grand hall and into the closest hallway.
She kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone as he carried her to the closest bedroom, his limbs vibrating with pent up energy, all of his senses alert. He kicked the door in and strode into the room, and Lyra climbed from his arms and immediately turned to him. Her eyes shone intensity as she roughly gripped his shirt and pulled it from him, and he gladly obliged. When it was thrown to the floor he bent and kissed her fiercely, and she gasped against his lips as he pushed her back to the edge of the bed, causing her to stumble backwards. The backs of her calves hit the edge of the mattress and her knees buckled, causing her to fall back onto the covers. He nearly lost all control at the sight of her lying sprawled in front of him, her cheeks blushing, her hair a mess, her bright eyes imploring him to get over here.
He then stopped, dead in his tracks as she lifted her own hand to the edge of her shirt. She slowly, so, so slowly lifted the edge and revealed her stomach, then her full breast band, then her collarbone and shoulders as she slipped the shirt off. He stood, transfixed, breathing heavily as she began to untie her breast band.
"You're going to have to help me with this," she said lowly, out of breath, her eyes piercing his, and he shook himself, quickly obeying. He reached towards her cautiously, slightly unsure now that they had progressed their intimacy and he had no further experience to be guided from. She leaned up and kissed him, wiping away all shreds of insecurity he had and sending his mind back to the red haze of desire he felt for her. All hesitancy disappeared and his hands found her curves naturally, and without him thinking they removed her binding and his hands were suddenly holding such unbelievable softness he felt his knees go weak. He ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples, and she shuddered directly under his hands, her mouth opening and giving him better access to kiss her deeply. His mind registered such a reaction from her, and he rubbed her nipples, making her arc into his hands and pressing her hips against his, causing his hardened member to throb tightly against his pants.
At that pressure, something in him snapped. He kissed her, hard, pushing her on her back, and pressing her into the sheets with his body. His insides writhed from feeling her breasts against his bare chest and his hands felt along her waist down to her hips, resting along the edge of her pants. His fingers slipped in between the rim of her pants and her skin, and she kissed him passionately, her hips shifting underneath his so her knees rose on either side of his hips. He grinded against her most intimate area involuntarily, and she moaned into their kiss, her hands on his back turning to claws and his sensitive hardness throbbing for more friction. Her nails scraped him slightly, the pain shocking pleasure through his limbs, and he pulled on the edge of her pants, needing to feel her skin instead of leather.
She helped him slip her pants from her legs, and he stared dumbly at the gorgeous sight of most of her skin bare to him, seeing how her vallaslin tattoos stretched across her limbs and ran along her muscles and curves, accentuating her natural frame. He felt her smaller fingers run down his chest and down his abdomen, causing shivers to spread along his body, and she began to undo the bindings of his pants. They got him out of them as well, and his stomach melted from the feeling of their legs touching.
He kissed her and she kissed him, and the heat between became more raw as they explored each other. His hands felt her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs, and the heat between her legs, Maker the heat was wet, he pressed his fingers into her through her small clothes and she stiffened as she inhaled, and he panted from feeling one of her legs hooking around his waist and aligning them so naturally.
He continued to prod and massage her, and she contorted, her hands gripping his shoulders and her eyes wide from adrenaline. She ran a hand down his abdomen and her fingers brushed the taut fabric over his length. He froze this time, and he nearly groaned as she slipped her fingers into his small cloth and- oh Maker- wrapped her fingers around him. He kissed her, hard, and they continued to feel each other, making what he had thought was extreme pressure in his body seem like absolutely nothing compared to the shock waves she was causing to flood through him.
In what seemed like agonizing minutes, they finally got the rest of their clothing off and an air of severity entered the room. Fenris had never felt so completely vulnerable, so completely intimate with someone else before, and the fact that it was Lyra just seemed so right, like of course she is making him feel such pleasure. As she has brought so much happiness to his world already, it only made natural sense that they were here right now, together, moving in unison like an expressive dance, setting off explosions in the other's mind.
Her kisses became less aggressive, and she held his face as he leaned over her, making him feel very much welcomed in such a physical position of power on top of her. He panted, and his eyebrows upturned as he looked down on such a beautiful face, such a beautiful person, with her eyes gently smiling at him while also asking something from him, needing something from him. The same need he was feeling so deeply in his core, the need to not just connect with her emotionally like they have been these last months, but connect with her physically. His needs guided him as he lowered himself, gently closing the space between their bodies so their lips met, their chests touched, their legs brushed each other and their hips aligned. He kissed her slowly as he fell into place, and without him understanding the pure bliss he was about to feel, connected their most intimate areas.
His entire body went rigid as they both gasped, and he exhaled slowly, not understanding how someone could make him feel such things. Her fingers gripped his shoulders and she kissed him as he fell from the high. Her movement caused their connected parts to shift, and he was assaulted with another wave of pleasure, another high. She kissed him as he shifted himself, and he gripped the sheets on either side of her as he moved, pulling away slightly to then push back into, over and over, enduring the waves of pleasure jolting through his entire body. She moaned against his lips, the sound so absolutely delicious, and he opened his eyes from their shut position to behold a sight that shocked him enough to make him almost stop moving.
Her eyes were clenched shut, her face contorted in pleasure, her mouth slightly open as she panted. He pushed into her a little harder, hitting against her hips, and her mouth fell open, her whole body seizing in the debilitating pleasure he was also feeling. The sight of her so openly enjoying what he was doing gave him a wave of confidence, and he released some of his pent up energy, slamming into her harder than before. They both gasped and she gripped his shoulders while he gripped the sheets tightly, every inch of his body on fire and he did it again, and again, and soon he started a rhythm, making the waves of pleasure turn into one powerful sensation that began to build up in his core.
Her hands traveled up to his neck and then weaved into his hair, making the base of his spine tingle, and she opened her eyes to meet his, already staring at her. Her eyes were so widened and held that color of adrenaline, and she smiled at him, dazzling him with her beauty, as he continued to pound into her before she leaned up to meet him. She kissed him as he continued to send them both through waves of pleasure, and he felt a blanket of perfect pressure wrap around his insides from how astonishing the person in his arms was.
She moaned and clutched him tighter, keeping herself suspended so that the angle they had let him in deep, and she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, the feel of her hair under his jaw and her lips on his collarbone causing him to push faster, faster, and the pressure in him to build up painfully so. He moaned and clenched his eyes shut when he felt her teeth lightly scrape his skin, and pressed her into the mattress over and over again, lowering himself to his elbows so their chests slid along each other.
Her lips found his, and her nails ran over his tensed back muscles, the sharp sensation making him worry his pent up pressure would not be able to hold for any longer. Just then she writhed under him, her entire body tensing next to his, and she gasped loudly and he felt her clench around him in waves. She clutched at him and he watched such pure absolution on her expression as she was released from the pressure she was under, and his eyes widened from what that did to him.
The pressurized bottle inside him burst. His entire body spasmed in ecstasy, the blessed feeling of release overcame him and he clutched her tightly in his arms as he felt wave after wave of euphoria crash through his senses. He felt her soothing hands rub his arms and back, and he felt all of his energy seep into her, leaving him utterly exhausted. He collapsed on top of her, his head lying on the pillow next to her and his face buried in her hair, worried he would be heavy but currently unable to move. They breathed heavily, and she ran her fingers through his hair, acting as a balm to his overheated and overworked body. He quieted, and heard her smile through her voice.
"You are incredible, Fenris," she whispered. He felt his mouth form a smile and he closed his eyes, lying against this person he trusted fully. He raised his head a few inches so he could meet her smiling eyes. He couldn't think of any words that could properly explain what he was feeling, so he simply leaned down and kissed her gently. He whispered back, against her lips.
"You are everything."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, and he shifted to lie next to her, both of them keeping the other in their arms. She fit against him so comfortably, with most of his skin in contact with hers, and they shared their warmth from their passion as their heartbeats slowed and their adrenaline faded.
Lyra reached her fingers up and lightly touched his face, and he watched her eyes as they traveled around his face with her fingers, caressing him with so much care. He loved how she touched him, like he was something to be cared for, like he was more than just a rough warrior. No one had held him with much regard, and he turned his face, catching one of her hands with a kiss, as she had. She smiled, all the lines on her face melted. She was so beautiful when she looked content, and it made him feel proud to know that he helped in satisfying her.
He watched her, and realized something. Something that shocked him.
"I've never really trusted anyone or anything before. It feels...strange. To have someone know, everything there is to know about me."
Her brows upturned, but then he watched her eyes become slightly guarded, and she closed her eyes from him.
"I keep a few secrets." she opened her eyes and looked at him, worried. "But these secrets have nothing to do with how much you matter to me."
He felt the warmth from her words, but he questioned her with his eyes. "What secrets must you keep?"
She nodded and seemed to sink into herself. "Imperfect burdens I must endure, as gifts from my past."
She said no more but he didn't press, seeing how disturbed even mentioning them made her. She seemed to shake herself, and met his eyes honestly.
"These are just secrets I must keep from the world, for the rest of my life. It is my hope that they fade, from even my own memory. They serve no purpose other than to create insecurity and shame."
He blinked at her and dropped it, slightly unsure now. But she washed his worries away by snuggling closer to him and kissing his shoulder, making him pull her into his embrace.
"I haven't felt this safe in years," she murmured, looking like she could fall asleep. Fenris yawned, and pulled her the closest he could.
"I've never felt this safe."