A/N: This is my first attempt at writing anything smutty. I almost chickened out with a fade to black like Bioware does, haha, but decided against it. Feedback and suggestions would certainly be appreciated!
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Bioware does, but think of the fun we could have if I did!
She was sitting curled in a chair before the fire in the library, reading an old tome on Kirkwall history. The scratching of a quill against parchment paper made an unpleasant background noise to her reading as Anders worked feverishly on his manifesto. He was consumed by that damn thing. They hadn't made love in weeks, what with Anders being wrapped so tightly in his work. Every single time she'd managed to get home early enough from whatever errands she was running that day, she found him exactly as he was right now – unable to be lured away for intimacy, food, or sleep, only working on his manifesto like a man possessed. Which, in fact, she supposed, he technically was. Resentment bubbled in her chest like poison. Why couldn't Justice just go away, and let her have her sweet, loving, gentle Anders the way he used to be? Now there was an idea...
She placed a bookmark in her book and set it aside. Smiling, she rose from her chair and stalked gracefully across the library, headed for the oblivious mage. She ran her hands firmly over the tattered feather pauldrons that he was so fond of, pressing firmly enough to feel the tension in his shoulders and start to smooth it away.
"You're so tense, love," she breathed against his ear. "Come with me, let me relax you."
"Hawke, I really should-" her deft fingers massaged into a particularly tense muscle and his eyes rolled back slightly in his head and his breath sighed out at the relief.
"Really should come let me pamper you," she said, smiling mischievously and drawing the now unresisting mage up out of his chair by the hand. Lacing their fingers together, she lead her lover down the hall to their bedroom and to the corner where the large bath tub sat near the fire.
"I'll get Orana to draw up a bath," Hawke said, regretting that she hadn't had the forethought to have a bath drawn and waiting for him.
Anders chuckled. "No need, darling," he said with a wave of his hand. The bath tub filled with ice. He then carefully applied a low fire spell to melt and warm the water until steam began curling gently off the surface.
"It's rather terribly convenient that you're a mage. Spares no end of running about," Marian said as she ran her hands over his chest, nimble fingers undoing the various buckles and straps that closed the faintly-ridiculous-on-anyone-but-Anders coat. He shrugged out of it, draping it over a chair, leaving him wearing trousers and a light cotton shirt. A teasing look flashed across his face, a ghost of Anders the way he used to be when Marian had first met him. An ache settled in her chest. Apparently, the human heart could be replaced with something like lead and still work just fine.
"If I'm getting undressed, it's only fair if you do, too." The warm, playful tone of his voice both tightened yet lifted the ache around her heart, as Anders' hands crept to the sash of her house-dress.
"Well then... Since you're all about fairness..." she purred at him. Then she internally kicked herself. Mention of Justice or anything like it was exactly what she'd hoped to avoid. Keen to avoid another run-in with her least favorite Fade spirit, Marian sought to distract his host in the best way possible. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body fully against his, relishing the feel of his wiry muscles against her yielding curves. Hawke tilted Anders' head down to meet hers and kissed him, just a bare press of lips at first, but both allowed their passion to show through as it grew into a wild thing of probing tongues and breathy pants.
Both of the renegade mage's hands rose up to cup her delicate face as he drank from her lips as if he were a dwarf and she the last barrel of ale in Thedas. Meanwhile, the rogue's nimble fingers expertly began unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it open to expose his chest, allowing her hands to rove across bare skin. Anders broke from the kiss with something between a sigh and a gasp as her palms lightly brushed over sensitive nipples.
"You're cheating," Anders whined playfully, "and you're still not nearly naked enough."
"Well why don't we change that?" Marian challenged in return. Hands flew and garments hit the floor. They twined about one another, a tangle of limbs and questing lips. Hawke gradually guided the distracted mage towards the bathtub. He jumped slightly when his bare back brushed against the cool ceramic rim of the tub.
"Into the bath with you," she told him, pushing him backwards gently with a hand on his chest.
"Minx," Anders retorted. "You just like to see me wet." He eased into the tub with a sigh.
"Yes." She replied unashamedly. "And I like taking care of you." Hawke picked up the bar of soap and wash cloth from the table by the tub and dunked them in the water, soaping the cloth, then gently began to lather Anders' body. He leaned against the back of the tub and closed his eyes. Finished with the soaping, she began to slosh water gently onto slick skin.
"Tip your head back, love," she murmured, cupping her hands and filling them with water. When he complied, she wet his hair, then began working the mint shampoo Merrill made through the long unruly strands. Marian relished the quiet moments, the little things- the scent of mint mingling with the scent of Anders' skin. Their relationship was not always a thing of overwhelming passions and crusading for noble causes – sometimes, they were just two people in love, two people spending time together and being happy. Done laving his scalp, she rinsed the lather from his hair and began gently massaging the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. He groaned appreciatively.
"You must secretly be a mage, Marian. There's magic in your fingers, I swear."
"Hey, you're they one they call Sparklefingers, not me."
"Why you-" Anders growled in mock-rage at her use of Oghren's nickname for him. He shifted, pulling her into the bath with him. "I shall have to teach you better taste in pet names for me." He trailed light kisses down her neck.
"Mmmhmm, and how do you plan on doing that?" Hawke teased, tilting her head to the side to allow him better access.
"Giving you inspiration to come up with a better one, of course." He lowered his mouth to her breasts, moving his hands to her back to support her as she arched into the sensation.
"You'll have to... be very convincing..." Marian panted, her voice gone low and breathy with lust. She shifted in his lap, and her womanhood pressed against his hardened shaft
"Oh, I think I'll manage," Anders replied with a dark chuckle. Grasping her by the hips, he slid his entire length into her welcoming wetness, drawing a gasp from her lips and a moan from his own. As their bodies moved together, water threatened to lap over the sides of the tub. For a moment, Hawke was vaguely concerned about wet floors, but Anders shifted the angle of his hips and ran himself over that sensitive spot inside her that blanked her mind of anything but pleasure, causing her to cry out in ecstasy and dig nails into broad shoulders as she hung on for dear life. Smiling knowingly, Anders thrust into her over and over. The edges of Hawke's vision blurred white as something overwhelming built in her loins. She peaked with a cry. The clenching of her tight sheath around him was too much for him to withstand, and Anders followed her in release just a few thrusts after. The two of them remained frozen for a time, trying to relearn how to breathe as they came down from their mutual high.
"You win. Pick your nickname. Cassanova? O Mighty and Virile One?" Hawke managed to quip once she had caught her breath a bit.
Anders chuckled and hauled himself out of the tub, and helped the now-boneless Hawke out, wrapping a towel around them both as he cradled her against his chest. She murmured contentedly, rubbing her cheek against him like one of his beloved cats. Once they were reasonably dry, he drew Hawke with him to the bed and turned back the covers. She crawled in and Anders followed, laying spooned against her with his nose buried in her sweet-smelling hair and arms around her, covering her hands with his own and lacing their fingers together. As Marian drifted off to sleep, her heart felt free and light, warmed by the love she shared with the man whose arms held her so tightly.