Summary: Even in domestic bliss, there remain battles to fight. Phaedra/Fenris family fluff, post-Kirkwall.
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do any of the recognizably canon characters or places belong to Yours Truly.
Queen's Quornor: This took forever to write. Just when I thought I was on a roll, someone would distract me and I'd lose sight of where I was going with this. But I finally finished this chapter, and have managed to post it! I don't know when I'm going to post on this particular drabble-fic again; I've got to update so many fics, especially "Danse Macabre" and "Turian Dreams." Plus I've got a very old promise to keep about "Seed." Then, of course, there's Real Life to worry about. Le sigh. I'll update the Fenris/Phaedra family fluff when I can, but I make no promises on when that will be.
Reminisce
Phaedra's back hit the feather mattress hard enough to knock the wind out of her. She hardly noticed the hitch in her lungs, too focused on the man atop her. Their arms curled around each other, clutching desperately while they exchanged frenzied kisses.
It had been far too long. All that time they had wasted tiptoeing around each other, all the awkward moments when awareness had suddenly shifted to that night three years ago and the miscarriage of their unborn child, the casual conversations that had been abandoned when their senses had narrowed into hungry focus upon each other... This had been surpressed in vain; their reunion was as impossible to resist as the moon's pull on the tides. All the sorrow and fear, the despair, melted away at the first touch of skin on skin, and in their place rose an inescapable and all-consuming hunger.
Clothing was virtually an afterthought, thrown aside with nary a care. Fenris' breastplate crashed against the floor beside her amulet. Her vest flew somewhere toward the window and his leggings slid between the bed and the wall. Maker only knew what happened to her breast-band and skirt. As for her underclothes, Fenris made certain they would never be used again. The torn shreds of intimately warmed cloth fluttered to the side as he knelt on his haunches, his back to the crackling fireplace, and she held her breath, eyes wide upon the lean form silhouetted by leaping flame. His scorching gaze slid down the curves and planes of her body, and when he finally dragged it back to meet her eyes, her breath caught at the sheer need they contained.
He stretched atop her, circling his arms around her again. This time the kisses were slower, softer. But she felt the tension in the trembling length of his body, in the clutch of his long fingers. The hunger was tempered by his love, an emotion finally allowed to flow after being dammed for years. He needed her desperately, thirsted for her body and the satiation he knew she could offer, and he was forcing himself to slow so she could keep pace.
This was the side of him that she alone had ever seen. With their friends he was quiet and aloof, occasionally exchanging witty banter with Varric and venom with Anders, and fending off Isabela's flirtatious queries. He kept everybody at a distance, allowed no more than the tiniest glimpse of the man behind the mask. He was untouchable, an enigma chained by a past that refused to let him be. But when he was with alone her, a very different man emerged. He was warmer and far more willing to discuss personal matters, even when wine was not involved. His memories were shared with her whenever he recovered them. He did not mind asking for her aid whenever she read with him. Fenris was a deeply emotional man, but he did not like others to witness his vulnerabilities. It wasn't that he did not trust their friends; he was simply far too accustomed to being alone and wary.
Phaedra wound her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his. Thank the Maker he had confided in her, and not refused her love.
Still exchanging heated kisses, the couple ground together. Phaedra drew her leg along his, stroking the silky flesh. He always claimed her skin was softer than velvet, but in her opinion all that leather he wore made his far smoother to the touch. In response, he reached one hand down, lightly skimming his fingers along her thigh.
Something scraped outside the door.
Fenris froze above her, and Phaedra likewise held still, listening. His hearing was so much keener than her own. Whatever made the noise evidently was worth investigating, because he gave her a tortured look and rolled off the bed to land silently on his feet. Phaedra swallowed her disappointment and resolved to drag her lover right back to bed once this was over, whatever this was. It had been a few weeks since the incident at the Hanged Man, but tonight had been her first opportunity to check up on Fenris since resuming their relationship. She had been unable to visit him due to a lengthy excursion down to the Deep Roads to rescue an old comrade of Anders'; tonight was supposed to be their long-awaited reunion.
It figured that something would see fit to interrupt them just when they were getting to the good part.
Fenris pulled on his leggings after fishing them out from behind the bed and snatched up his sword. He waited by the door, casting her an occasional hungry glance, while she slipped into her skirt and sleeveless vest. The clothing was a necessary evil; donning it meant they were losing time in tracking down the intruder, but it also gave their most important bits marginal protection in the event of a fight, as well as safety from wandering eyes. If Phaedra did not want to entertain the thought of what might happen should a blade get too close to Fenris' naked groin, then she was absolutely positive he would consider the idea a waking nightmare. As for herself, what woman would want an assailant to focus upon her breasts? She finished tugging the laces of her vest into a loose bow, securing the fabric closed, then found her staff leaning against the wall and mirrored her lover's position beside the door. Their green eyes met, hers almost neon and his glittering jade, and he yanked the portal open, leaping into the doorway with his massive sword at the ready.
Hidden behind the door but preparing to swing around and bathe the intruder in conjured flame, Phaedra heard a startled "Oof!" and saw Fenris stumble back a couple paces, his thighs encircled by a pair of long, caramel-shaded arms. The mage blinked, then took a few cautious steps away from the door, still holding her spell and staff at the ready. Then she let out a profound, exasperated sigh.
"Isabela, were you spying on us again?"
The pirate twisted her head to regard her closest friend, her arms instinctively tightening as Fenris tried to escape her unexpected embrace. She kneed along with him, keeping her grip secure. Phaedra bit back the sudden anger that rose at the sight of Isabela's proximity to her lover's hips; the pirate's face was less than three inches away from them.
"I forgot something here, and came back to get it. You can't blame me for being curious when I found this door - which has never, in all these years, been shut - closed and very intriguing noises coming from behind it." She tilted her head back to meet Fenris' annoyed expression, a satisfied smile curling her full mouth. "Nice to see you too, Fenris. If I'd known you would be this excited, I'd have never left in the first place."
"Get off me!" he snapped, reaching back to unhook her arms and shove her away. Instead of sitting down in the nearest chair and crossing his legs like any other man would have done, the elf stood defiantly before her, his arms crossed over his bare chest, daring Isabela to comment on his obvious erection.
Shaking her head, Phaedra dismissed her spell, flicking the last wisps of eerie blue spellfire from her fingertips. "You saw me come in here, Isabela. Have you really gotten this desperate, to spy on us? If your itch needs scratched that much, I'm sure Carver would be willing to oblige, so long as you make sure you don't have any communicable diseases first."
"Hey! That was cleared up years ago, thank you!" Isabela rose to her feet with a haughty sniff. "And I really did forget something. I didn't realize it until I was halfway back to the Hanged Man. As for why I was listening through the door, I was curious. I hadn't taken either of you for the type to just jump back into bed, considering how long it's been. You've never gotten moon-eyed over anybody else, Hawke, and he hasn't so much as looked at another woman since you had him over."
Fenris blew an impatient sigh. "Will you retrieve your item and leave us alone?"
Isabela got to her feet, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "All right, fine. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." She walked to the table where she and the elf had been sitting earlier that evening, shooting Fenris an appreciative glance as she passed him. He turned with her, his handsome face twisted in a dark scowl.
Phaedra leaned on her staff, watching the pirate search beneath the table with a mixture of irritation and amusement. Whatever the forgotten article was, she was willing to place money on it having been left intentionally when Isabela saw her coming through the door. She could see the little looks her friend was giving her lover from beneath the table. However, she couldn't really blame the other woman too much; with the moonlight streaming through the windows, Fenris' silver markings seemed almost alive, glimmering and dancing beneath his skin.
All the same, if Isabela so much as laid a hand on the warrior again, Phaedra was not above sending an ice spell up her tiny tunic to cool things down. She wasn't sure she could ever forgive her for kissing Fenris, even if it was the catalyst which brought them together again.
"Here it is!" Isabela held up a large diamond ring, flashing the stone in the firelight. "This little bugger slipped out of my pocket when I was leaving. I was at the merchant's stand when I realized it was gone."
"Save it," Fenris snapped, nodding towards the open door. "You have your ring, now get going."
"You don't have to be so pushy, you know. I was going," Isabela grumbled, slipping the ring between her ample cleavage. Phaedra sighed, declining to comment on the fact that the nosy pirate had no pockets from which the ring could have fallen. She accompanied her to the door, all too aware of the satisfied smirk curling the other woman's lips. Before she could shut the door, the pirate leaned back and twisted her head slightly to face her.
"Have fun, sweet thing," she purred.
Phaedra pursed her lips, watching Isabela sashay down the stairs and out the front door. To make absolutely sure she was gone, she used her favorite icy dweomer to freeze the lock shut. That done, she made her way back to the sitting room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Fenris was sitting on the bed, still clad in his pants. He looked up as she rounded the corner. "Is she gone?"
"I made sure we won't be interrupted again for quite some time," the mage assured him, seating herself beside him. "Neither of us are going anywhere until the front door thaws."
"Good." Quick as a flash, Fenris grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath his body. Phaedra looked up at the half-naked warrior straddling her, mirroring his smile. "Now then. Where were we?"
"I believe it was about here." She reached up and ran her fingers down the tight muscles of his stomach, toying with the laces of his pants.
"No, it was more like this." He leaned down and took her lips in a searing kiss, rucking up the fabric of her skirt so it slid slowly up her sleek legs, beginning to bare her to the firelight.
"That's right..." she whispered into his mouth, threading her fingers through his hair.
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"I was so certain that would be the last time we would be interrupted," Fenris lamented, pulling his wife closer to his side and swirling the wine in the bottle, watching the flames illuminate the liquid within.
Phaedra laughed softly and cuddled against him, happy to share his warmth in the chilly house. "Well, neither of us anticipated children that night. Since we've had them, have we ever had a single night where we could enjoy each other's company without interruption?"
"At least we would have some peace if it was just the twins. They only sleep with us every now and then. When was the last time Malcolm slept in his own bed?"
She shook her head, feeling her smile widen. If their son wasn't sneaking into their room to crawl beneath the covers, he was begging his way into one of his sisters' beds. At a mere two years, he refused to sleep by himself for fear of unseen phantasms and hands reaching from beneath the bed. It was not uncommon for all three of the children to spend the night with their parents, especially because Fenris seemed incapable of denying them anything.
"Perhaps I should start freezing their doors shut. Just to get a night to ourselves, you understand," she teased.
"That's not such a bad idea..." he commented, tilting his head to the side so his long white hair brushed against hers. Fenris had decided not to cut his hair a few months ago, hoping to use it to keep his head and neck a bit warmer this winter.
"We can't just trap them in their room like that," Phaedra chided, lightly smacking his thigh in reprimand. "It would damage the door. Remember how hard it was to open your front door when I tried to leave the next morning?"
"You weren't so inclined to leave after I came downstairs, if memory serves," he purred.
"Well, you did give me good reason to stay."
He laughed lowly and leaned back against the headboard, resting his head against the wall. "Do you think he'll stay with the girls tonight?"
"As cold as it is tonight? Love, the reason I haven't jumped you yet is because I'm waiting to see if he'll try and sneak in here again." The mage glanced down the long lines of his body, then met his heated gaze with a seductive smile. "Although, if he does try to get in bed with us, he's going to wonder why we're breaking the rule."
"Just tell him it's too cold to sleep naked tonight," Fenris replied, stroking his hand down his wife's side.
"You really shouldn't lie to the children. Just tell him you're tired of getting kicked."
"No, that's what I have you for. You keep me from getting kicked."
She snickered. "But every time we spoon, the children wonder why their father refuses to get out of bed for a good ten minutes in the morning!"
"If you want to explain the facts of life to them, be my guest," he invited, coaxing her into sitting on his lap.
"Oh, no. We are not starting this until I'm sure we're not going to be interrupted again," she laughed.
"Then why are you sitting atop me?" Fenris murmured, hitching himself higher against the headboard. Phaedra kneed along with him.
"Perhaps I am being optimistic for once," she breathed, leaning down to steal a quick kiss.
His moss green eyes glittered with intent. "Go lock the door. Malcolm will have to sleep with his sisters while we work on giving them a new sibling."
"Fenris, you know that's not going to happen again." She drew back, her mouth turned into a playful frown.
"Well, that does not mean we can't have fun trying." He lifted his hips briefly, letting her feel how much the idea appealed to him. Phaedra's breath caught.
"We really should start sending him back to his own bed some nights," she gasped, nodding her head quickly.
"It's for his own good," Fenris agreed, smiling up at her. His fingers played about the swell of her hips, stroking her through the fabric of her shift.
"Give me a moment." Phaedra practically tumbled off the bed, bracing herself against the frame for a moment while her knees relearned how to hold her weight. Her husband still had the power to make her feel like it was the very first time all over again, after all this time. His satisfied laughter rolled across her skin like an invisible caress, and she shivered. As retaliation, she swayed her hips on her way to the door, and smiled when she heard his chuckle abruptly end.
There was a soft knock on the door, and a quiet groan from the direction of the bed.
"Mama? Dada? Can I sweep wi' you?" The voice was muffled and a little garbled. Malcolm probably had his thumb in his mouth again.
Phaedra looked back to her husband, reaching for her wool robe. Fenris was looking at her with a pleading expression, as well as the beginnings of exasperation. She nodded and opened the door. Their youngest stared up at her, his long white bangs falling across his bright green eyes. Sure enough, his lips were latched around his left thumb. His bare feet peeked from beneath his long nightshirt, which brushed the floor as he rocked slightly from side to side.
She had to close her eyes before she could answer. "No, not tonight, sweetheart."
"Why nowh?" he asked around his thumb, slurping back some drool.
"Your father and I would like to sleep by ourselves tonight."
"Why?"
"Because we're playing," Fenris growled softly. Phaedra didn't think he meant for his complaint to be audible, but their son heard it anyway.
"Can I pway, too? M' not sweepy!"
The mage sighed and glanced back at her husband, giving him a little frown. "We're playing a grown-up game, sweetheart. You're too young for it."
"No m' not!" he protested, his eyes huge in the dim light cast by the fire.
"Malcolm, go back to your own bed. Your mother and I want to be alone," his father ordered.
"My woom's cold!"
"We built you a nice big fire before you went to sleep. Your room is warm enough."
Malcolm rushed forward, wrapping his little arms around his mother's legs. He clung to the fabric of her thick winter robe, staring up at her with glistening eyes. "I don' wanna sweep in my bed, Mama! Thehw's monstwers!"
"There are no monsters under the bed, Malcolm. Your father checked for you before we put you down for the night, remember?" Phaedra looked down at her son with a rueful smile, feeling both affection and irritation welling within her. Malcolm sometimes did this - clung like a limpet until reassured that there wasn't anything beneath his bed.
"Thehw aw now!" he insisted, burying his face against her thigh.
Phaedra sighed and shook her head. "Fenris, I'm going to go put him back to bed. I'll be back in a few minute."
"Don't take long," came her husband's sullen reply.
Malcolm refused to let go of her leg, so Phaedra reached down to scoop him into her arms. The little boy laid his head on her shoulder, facing towards the wall. His mother rubbed his back soothingly as she headed towards his room, hoping he wouldn't fight too much tonight. Sometimes Malcolm would throw a tantrum of epic proportions when taken back to his own bed.
She nudged the his door open and stepped inside, noting that the fire had died down a bit. Shadows danced across the walls and pooled in the corners of the room. Malcolm clung tighter as she approached the bed, and she had to unwrap his arms before she could set him on the bed.
"Now show me where the monsters are hiding," she cajoled.
Malcolm spread his arms wide. "Evwywhe!"
"They can't be everywhere, sweetheart. There must be one place in particular where they like to go."
He huddled against his pillow, jamming his thumb in his mouth and regarding her with those huge green eyes again. Phaedra sighed and went to the wardrobe. Conjuring a ball of golden magelight, she opened the door and pawed through her son's clothes, standing off to the side so he could see the illuminated crevices within. Once she had finished with the wardrobe, she approached the bed and knelt down beside it, lifting the covers to peer beneath it.
"No monsters. It looks like you're safe tonight." She stood up and brushed her knees, then pulled her robe tighter around her body. "Now go back to sleep."
Malcolm allowed her to pull the blankets up over him, still sucking on his thumb as she tucked him in. "Can you weeve a wight, Mama?"
"Of course, sweetheart." Phaedra kissed his forehead and sent the magelight into the farthest corner, banishing the shadows. "Now, go to sleep. The monsters won't come in here while that light burns."
He smiled and turned onto his back, snuggling down beneath the blankets. His mother smoothed his hair, then removed herself from his room.
Fenris put his book aside as she opened the door and slipped back into their room. "I take it there are no monsters?"
"As usual, they fled at my approach." She lifted the covers and slipped in beside her husband, molding herself to his body in an attempt to steal his warmth. Fenris chuckled and slid down beside her in the bed, turning onto his hip to face her.
"You seem be cold," he observed dryly.
"So what are you going to do about this?" she asked, raising one snowy brow and smiling impishly.
Fenris rolled her beneath him, smirking down at her as he bent for a kiss.