Some Lovers

A 100 prompts challenge on Fenris/LadyHawke by Marianne Bennet

011: Desire

"What do you want, Hawke?"

"I want you to stop calling me that." You to think of me as something other than a mage because if someone like you thinks I am something other than a mage than I might as well be and that would be such a relief. Honesty caught in her throat and in her mind when she saw his smile. You.

…

"What do you want, Fenris?"

"I want you to understand." Proof that mages can be better than I have seen, make the necessary choices even when it is not in their immediate interests, so that I can believe that a second Tevinter can be prevented from within. His voice stuck at the sound of hers. You. What else?

…

He was sitting on the bench in her foyer; what did that mean? She paused in the doorway. He hadn't seen her yet but he would in a moment. She waited the moment out, not wanting to make things go any faster. She wasn't frightened; maybe she was. Maybe she was frightened that the mere sight of him made her very heartbeat catch in her throat and she had to remind herself to breathe. But he was there, tangible, and had therefore already defied her expectations. And then he looked up at her and the expression on his face made her feel as though every inch of her –her wrists, her cheekbones, the backs of her knees –was filled with light.

"I have been thinking of you," he said as he stood and crossed the space between them.

What about me? She wanted to ask. Did you think of the way I smiled? The way I laugh? Did you remember the way I reached out to you in the slaver caves? Or did you remember the way you brushed me aside and told me that magic tainted everything? Did you think of me as a mage and therefore think of Hadriana? Or do you separate me from the magic? Can you even do that? Could I separate you from the markings if I hated the power they gave you?

"In fact, I have been able to think of little else," he continued and the words boiling in her mind were lost somewhere in the silence between her thoughts and her spoken words. He was looking at her, his eyes dark with desire, and there was that sense of light bubbling somewhere between her ribs. She knew that was a conversation she could not have tonight.

"Command me to go and I shall."

She could tell him to go. He had said she could; he would not force this if it was not something she wanted. What did she want? That was another question she did not want the answer to tonight. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, tasted blood… She was instantly reminded of that witch in the Blooming Rose: blood and desire in equal parts. Was desire like blood magic, something that grabbed hold of your thoughts and refused to cede control? She didn't want him to go.

"Did I say anything?" she asked him and felt her own eyes darken at the sound of words. If this was as dangerous as blood magic, she did not care. In response, his mouth came crashing down on hers and she felt herself fling her arms about his shoulders. He pushed her back against the wall; she did not object, only kissed him harder. In his touch, she had found the oblivion required to let her forget she had magic. And, somehow, she knew that he had stopped thinking of her as a mage the moment he took her into his arms.

She was able to lose herself that night. She would have done anything to make him stay. But desire proves to be selfish and he apparently had wanted something else. She wondered if this is what it felt like to be the gift that someone did not want and yet had to smile over and say "Thank you" all the same.

…

A/N: Okay, I need feedback on this chapter. I was trying to communicate something very specific and I need to know if I was successful. So please review. What did you take away from this piece? Thanks! -MB