Summary: What happens between Anders and Aria is for nobody's eyes but their own. Some lemons, mainly drabbles of various types. Chapter 2 onward.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the unsated desire for more skin in DA2.
Queen's Quornor: I really don't know how this hasn't come up yet somewhere. Anders refers to Hawke as his partner after they move in together, yet everyone treats it as an informal arrangement? For a guy as obsessed with not being tied down as Anders is, it seems to me that if he's going to commit to somebody, it's going to be a lifetime thing. So I bet the whole "living beneath one roof" thing isn't going to cut it for him after awhile. The Marcher blessing that I refer to is simply a spin I've put on the wedding ceremony, wherein the first (best) man and maid of honor give the bride and groom an informal blessing of the "may your marriage be fruitful and happy, and may your days be filled with love and laughter" variety. I've already thought up a Dalish wedding rite, based on Native American traditions; my guess is that different regions would have different variations on the basic Chantry ceremony. Kinda like how Greek Orthodox weddings involve walking around the altar before the kiss and wearing wreaths, and the basic Christian wedding merely involves lengthy vows and hand-holding. I also think that there wouldn't be a happy ending for someone who fell for Anders. I doubt he'd want to just end his life by letting the taint turn him into a ghoul, so he probably would go to Orzammar and go down fighting. That would be the worst pain for Hawke, especially if it was a lady Hawke. He might concede to letting Garrett Hawke go with him, but not Marian. I originally wanted to put a love scene in here, but realized that it was not necessary to get the point across. Maybe the next chapter will have a lemon, but this one is all about their bond.
I Swear
Maker, she was beautiful.
It was supposed to be Aveline's special day. She and Donnic were finally getting married, after nearly three years of off-duty courtship and clandestine meetings in the captain's office. He should be watching the happy bride descend the staircase to join her betrothed and the Chantry mother who would perform the ceremony. But all he saw was his Aria.
Aveline had asked only two of her friends to be bridesmaids. Aria was the first choice, which was not all that surprising given the close relationship shared by the two women. But her other choice, Isabela, had raised some eyebrows. The guard-captain had explained that she merely wished to see "the whore" in a respective light, for once. Thus Isabela trod behind Aria, trying not to step on her hem.
While she was not the bride, in Anders' eyes his lover far outshone Aveline. She and Isabela had been coerced into wearing gowns of emerald silk trimmed with gold embroidery. The cut of the dresses left their shoulders bare and dipped just enough to show the beginning of their cleavage, and the skirts were long enough to drag along the floor behind them in a very short, tasteful tent of a train. Isabela looked comely enough in the ensemble, but with her coloring Aria took the healer's breath away. Her scarlet hair hung long and loose in carefully crafted waves, partially drawn behind her back in a fall of tousles. She had added a diamond solitaire necklace to the outfit, which drew Anders' attention directly to the curves of her breasts. Aria looked softer, more sophisticated than he had ever seen her, and her violet eyes shone as Aveline took her place beside Donnic before the hearth.
He could not help wondering if she would look so sweetly vulnerable if it was her wedding instead of her oldest friend's.
Anders settled into his seat, watching the ceremony. He had not been asked to be one of Donnic's ushers. Fenris was standing opposite Aria as the first man, with one of the guards fidgeting behind him. The healer had thrown a fit when he was told that the elf would be Aria's escort in the ceremony; he had finally calmed when she reminded him that Fenris was merely her friend whereas he, Anders, held her heart and shared her life. Donnic had chosen the elf because of the easy friendship fostered by weekly matches of diamondback in both the dusty mansion and the Hanged Man. The guardsman was not very familiar with Anders, and it was his day as much as Aveline's. He had a right to pick whomever he wanted for his ushers.
Truth be told, Anders was happy that Fenris had gotten the job. The charcoal-grey tunic and pants he wore did not look terribly comfortable, and if it was him up there, somebody would have to remind him when to give Donnic the rings. He would be too busy staring at Aria. Fenris, on the other hand, could keep his composure.
That left Anders free to eyeball his lover and finalize some plans of his own. While the happy couple repeated the vows fed them by the mother, and Aria and Fenris recited the traditional Marcher blessings for the union, he fingered two objects within a pouch on his belt.
The ceremony was concluded without a hitch, although Donnic missed Aveline's finger twice with the ring. The mother blessed them and their union, and the couple kissed to generous applause from the small audience of assorted friends and acquaintances. Donnic's mother, Anders noticed, could not stop crying into her handkerchief. The couple then led the way into the basement of the Hawke estate, followed by the ushers escorting the bridesmaids and the crowd.
The largest room in the cellars, once used to store enormous wine casks, had been converted into a feasthall for the occasion, complete with dancefloor. Aria had spared no expense for her friend, hiring the best musicians in Kirkwall and enlisting the former viscount's own chef to prepare the meal. The remnants of the Amell family's wine collection were tapped and flowed freely. Varric seemed beyond words when he took the time to figure out the total cost of this feast. But Aria did not give one damn about the bill, so long as a good time was had by all. She had more than enough sovreigns saved from her adventures and the Bone Pit's profits to make this the greatest day of Aveline's life, without driving herself into bankruptcy.
Once the speeches were over and the guests suitably distracted, Anders rose form his seat in search of his lover. Her chair beside Aveline had been vacant since the roast pig was unveiled, but he had a fair idea of her location.
As he walked through the cellars, Anders thought about what he was going to say. This could not sound like a marriage proposal. Champion though she was, Aria was still an apostate, as was he. The Chantry would sooner deny Andraste than allow them to unite in the Maker's sight as man and wife. Not even Sebastian would perform the ceremony, in spite of his dealings with them. Even if they could be wed, Meredith would most likely eat her armor before allowing the marriage to stand.
Still, he had to make it clear that he would remain beside her and be loyal, no matter where life took them. She already knew he loved her, but it was time to reveal the depths of his devotions.
As he expected, he found his lover in her family's vault. She was sitting on one of the metal-bound chests with her head propped in one hand, arcing silver lightning between the fingers of the other. Anders watched from the doorway while she sent the electricity dancing above her fingertips and crawling down her naked arm, creating complex patterns atop her flesh. He had a flair for lightning himself, but Aria used it in such a way that he could only call it artistry.
"It's a pity nobody else will ever see that," he commented. "I think even the Maker would be enchanted by your lightning displays."
"It's a gift." Aria spread her hand flat and bade the electricity gather into a sparking ball, then sent it in a crackling fork to a suit of dusty armor in the corner. "I suppose you want me to go back down there."
"I didn't say that." Ander leaned against the armoire beside her, resting one hand on the belt-pouch. "But I do get the impression that something is wrong."
She heaved a sigh. "It's just... Am I a horrible person? I mean, I'm the honored maid. I should be feeling happy for Aveline and Donnic, especially after what happened with Wesley. But I look at them and I just can't help wishing that it was us in their place, that this wedding was ours, not theirs." She ran a hand through her crimson hair and looked at him, shame filling her eyes. "I know we can't marry, but Maker knows I wish we could."
He closed his eyes. He knew exactly how she felt, right down to the guilt. "You know, there might be a way for us to make this a special day for us. It's not a marriage, but it's something."
Aria looked at him, confused and intrigued. Anders felt something warm in his chest at her expression. "What do you have in mind?"
"It's not all that different from the wedding." He knelt before her on the tiles, pulling two plain rings from his pouch. "We simply say what we feel, and promise to keep doing so. I'll go first."
He cleared his throat and took her hand, meeting her eyes. "I love you. You are the one light in my world, my guiding star and the most important person in my life. You remind me who I am, and give me the strength to face each day. I can only continue my fight because of your love and support. You are the reason I haven't lost myself to the vengeance inside me." He gently spread her fingers, slipping one of the golden bands onto her fourth digit. "I swear I will remain at your side so long as I may, and so long as you'll have me. No matter what, my love and my loyalty are yours alone."
He kissed her knuckles, feeling the fine tremor running through her hand. "I've run away from a lot of things, my love. But this is the one thing from which I'll never try to escape. Until we both are ashes in the wind, I am with you."
Aria wiped at her eyes with her free hand, smearing her golden eyeshadow back to her hairline. Anders offered her the second ring. She took it and cradled his left hand between her palms, smiling at the tenderness in his amber eyes.
"I doubt I could ever express how much you mean to me. I love you enough to leave everything behind, should it come to that. I would risk anything, even my life, if it meant your safety. With you at my side, I know there is nothing I can't face." She slid the ring onto his finger, blinking through her tears. "I'll never abandon you, and I'll never love anybody else. My heart already lies in your keeping, and I have trusted you with my life for years. My love and loyalty belong to you, until the sky falls and the oceans rise to swallow us all."
Suitably dramatic, but fitting, Anders reflected as he gathered her into his arms. Everything about their relationship was dramatic in some way. Why should their fidelity vows be any different? He lowered his head to hers, sealing their bond with a loving kiss.
After many minutes of tender kisses, she broke away to cuddle against him, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. "Think we should go back?" she murmured.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her hair. "We should. Many of the guests will be heartily disappointed if they can't ask you for a dance, and Aveline will be upset if we don't see her and Donnic off on their wedding night. I don't particularly want the guard-captain miffed at me."
"You know I'll always protect you," she teased. He helped her to her feet, although her hand remained clasped in his. "But if Aveline somehow turns into a dragon, you're on your own."
He could not help laughing at the thought.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
"You concentrate on enjoying yourself, understand? Cullen can handle the guard while you're gone." Aria let herself be folded into a bone-cracking hug by Aveline, returning the embrace with equal fierceness. "Have fun in Orlais."
"I will, Hawke. You keep an eye on Cullen for me, all right? I won't have him putting on airs and commanding the guard as he would the templars." The happy bride held the Champion a minute longer, then released her and stepped back to join Donnic. "Make sure the city doesn't fall apart while we're gone."
"I promise, I'll save any real crisis for your return," Aria told her with a cheeky grin. "Now get going! The night's not getting any younger."
"I think that's our cue, love," Donnic remarked with a faint smile. He set his hands on his new wife's shoulders and leaned her back against him so her gaze met his. "Shall we?"
Aveline grinned and drew away, walking towards the door. "Let's. Hawke, thank you so much for all this. If there's any way I can repay you - "
The apostate held up her hand. "No need, Aveline. It's enough to see you so happy after all this time."
The couple was seen out with minimal fanfare, considering the crowd outside. Aria closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted by the wedding banquet. She had not danced so much in years, nor had to put up with so many joyous drunks in such a concentrated area.
Besides, with the smoldering looks Anders kept giving her throughout the evening, it was a wonder she had held out as long as she had.
She latched the door and took a deep breath, twisting the simple gold ring on her left hand. This was really no different from any other passionate night they had shared. The had been living together for nearly three years now, so this would be nothing new.
Yet at the same time, it was. Before, there had always been a way out, a back door to exit the relationship if the thought of commitment became too much. They had both been free to walk away if they so wished. Now, with two plain rings and some words spoken from the depths of their souls, everything had changed.
She was still Aria, and he was still Anders. But now they were life partners, not just two apostates living and loving together. It was not a marriage, but it was similarly binding.
It was frightening and exciting, to know that they belonged only to each other in a way they hadn't before. This was commitment and it was scary. But it was only a formality. The vow and rings only reinforced something they already shared.
Despite knowing this, Aria could not help feeling like a bride herself.
Steeling herself, she began to climb the stairs. At the top, her purple eyes fell upon the door to her mother's room and a stab of old grief flashed through her chest. Her mother would be so proud if she knew how her eldest child had turned out. She would probably plan the grandest clandestine wedding in the history of Kirkwall for her and Anders, and begin gently prodding them to start a family that same night.
Aria smiled. That wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Her mother had made it quite clear that she hoped to be a grandmother. Aria had a secret wish to bear Anders' children, but she understood the odds of that happening. In all likelihood, Carver would be the one to continue the Hawke line, not her.
She shook that thought away and went to her room, slowly pulling the door open.
Anders had seated himself on the bed with a silver decanter and two goblets. Stripped down to his trousers, the firelight from the hearth licked over his lean body in teasing flickers, highlighting his arms and back with golden radiance. His Tevinter Chantry amulet, a gift long kept secret between them, gleamed above his heart. "I thought you could use some wine to relax," he said, raising one of the goblets. "You didn't look like you were enjoying being whirled about like a dervish in those guards' arms."
"If you knew how to dance, that wouldn't have been an issue." She gave him a fond smile to show she was merely teasing, and set about divesting herself of her finery. "Maker, I hate getting all dolled up like this. Why can't people just wear regular clothes to weddings? Skirts are so much more comfortable than sodding dresing."
"It wouldn't be as special, I suppose." Aria felt the burn of his ambers eyes on her as she undressed, leaving her gown on the floor and kicking her fancy shoes across the room. Heels would never be as comfortable as boots, as far as she was concerned. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you that you look absolutely breathtaking in that dress?"
"You can. But seeing as how you once told me I look breathtaking even showered in the blood of my enemies, I'll just take your statement with a grain of salt." Clad only in her smalls, Aria undid her hair from its elaborate arrangement and walked over to the bed, swaying her hips enticingly so her lover's eyes followed. Anders hitched himself against the pillows and smiled. She took the hint and settled herself between his legs, her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her while she took her goblet from his hand and sipped at its contents. "Good vintage. You really know your wines."
"I wish I could give you more," Anders confessed, his voice hushed. She rested the goblet upon her thigh, biting back the teasing reply that had leapt to mind at his words. "You deserve a real husband, not a wanted man."
"When are you going to believe me? A marriage is nothing without love." She took another drink of the wine, letting it trickled down her throat to warm her belly. "I'm happy with you, love. Besides, does this mean nothing?" She held up her hand so her ring caught the light.
"It means more than I can express. But what kills me is that I can't offer you more." He hugged her tight, resting his cheek atop her head. "Your parents were unbelievably fortunate to be married in the Chantry, regardless of the circumstances surrounding their union. I'll never be more than your life partner."
He was getting melancholic again. Aria swallowed the remainder of her wine and put the vessel aside with its partner and the decanter, turning so she faced him. "Anders, I have been on the run from templars all my life, and I've never run alone. There was always my father or my sister to keep me company. But they're gone, and you're with me now. The only difference is that you are my lover and partner, and our prescence is an open secret. You and I both know that's going to change one day, and you also know that I'm not afraid." She stroked her hand along his jaw, watching his eyes fill. "So long as I have you, I'll never want for anything. I love you."
"And I love you. Maker help me, but I do." He crushed her to him, hiding his face against her hair. "It's so selfish, but I can't live without you. That's why I gave you the ring; it tells the world that you are mine, and I am yours."
"I'll wear it proudly," she promised, pressing a kiss to his chest. She hugged him reassuringly and laid her head against him, reflecting upon their relationship. He had always been the only man she allowed into her heart. They held similar opinions about their fellow mages and the role of the Circle and templars, and what had once been a friendship had long since grown into something so much more precious. Anders had said it first, but from their first meeting it had felt as though they had always known each other, all their lives. There had always been a level of comfort with him that she had not felt with any of their companions. Even with Aveline, she kept a part of herself in reserve.
Yet they had so little time, she thought, nestling her cheek against his heart. As a Grey Warden, his life was destined to be cut short. Even if he somehow kept Justice at bay and remained free of the templars, she would eventually lose him to the taint in his blood. "It's not fair," she murmured aloud.
"What's not fair?"
She sat back to look into his eyes, twisting herself so she sat with her legs around his waist. "I wish we had met before you joined the Wardens. If we had, then things would be different. We could marry and raise a family, not spend every day worrying about getting dragged into the Gallows. You wouldn't have that spirit in your head, running you into the ground without a care for what you want. We could be together and it would just be us, nobody else."
A sad, rueful smile pulled at his lips and his eyes became soft. "Or we might not have gotten this far. I don't know if you would have liked the old me, sweetheart. I was a womanizing, irreverant ass."
"I can deal with asses. Just look at my brother." A sigh escaped her and she took his hand, playing with his fingers. "It's just that I'm going to lose you someday, because of your time with the Wardens. We can turn the entire world upside down, get rid of every templar and anti-mage faction, dissolve every Circle, miraculously separate you from Justice, and still have only twenty-some years to spend together." She blinked, watching his fingers blur. "Someday you'll leave me to go fight in the Deep Roads, and I'll never see you again."
His fingers threaded into her hair, and he pulled her into a close embrace. Aria wrapped her arms around his back, hiding her tears against the curve of his neck. "We both knew there would be no lifetime of happiness for us when we started this, my love. But I know how you feel. A piece of me cries whenever I think about what will happen to us." His hands tightened on her waist and hair. "That's another reason why I wanted us to swear our love. When we finally must part, there will always be that moment for us. You will know that I loved you, no matter what."
She sobbed and clutched him to her, feeling the weight of the ring around her finger. The ring was a symbol of their bond, a reminder they both would always carry with them. "I want to go with you, when you must depart," she confessed.
"No, Aria. You can't come with me." He pulled back to look at her, cradling her cheek in his hand and brushing her tears with his thumb. She felt the warm metal of his ring and more tears came spilling from her eyes. "The darkspawn don't kill females who are not Grey Wardens. They force them to eat their tainted dead, and make them into Broodmothers. They swell up and become these bloated monstrosities, forever feeding and giving birth to more darkspawn. It's the most horrific caricature of life I have ever seen. I don't want to leave you, but I would sooner bring the Deep Roads down atop us than let them make you into one of those things."
"So you won't let me remain with you when your Calling comes." She covered his hand with hers, pressing his palm flush against the side of her face. "I'm going to die when you leave. You realize that, right?"
Anders slid his arms back around her. She felt a wetness against her scalp and her heart shuddered at his pain. "I would rather you live for us both. Just promise me one thing, my love."
"Anything," she swore.
"You really need to learn to listen to my terms before you give your word." He dragged in a shaking breath. "Promise me that you won't take your own life. The Chantry says that suicides are destined only for the Void, not peace by the Maker's side. I can't stand the thought of spending eternity without you."
"I figured I'd make enough noise that the Divine would send an army of templars after me, and I'd take as many of the bastards with me as I can. Strike a blow for mages everywhere." That got a chuckle out of him, even as the tears continued. "To be honest, I'm not going to retire and wait for old age to take me. I'll go down fighting, and I won't be far behind you."
"I should argue that I prefer you alive and safe, but..." He tipped her head up and covered her mouth with his, kissing her desperately. "Thank you."
"You'll never be alone, love. Not even when this life is finished." Aria trailed one hand down his arm, lacing her fingers with his. "This is supposed to be our night, and here we are discussing death when we should be celebrating our life together."
He kissed her again, holding her close with his free arm. "Let me distract you, then."
She fell into his kiss, caressing his lips with her own and opening her mouth for his tongue. As he laid her down and began transforming her sorrow into arousal, she closed her eyes and sent a heartfelt plea to the distant Maker.
Please, give me something more than a ring to remember him. Give us a child.