Hawke ran her fingers over the scarring where her arm had nearly been severed, walking up behind Anders in just her smalls, "Looking pretty badass, if I don't say so myself."

"Mm," he replied, dipping his quill again as he wrote by candlelight.

"I should get a tattoo," she said, prodding the skin still to test it. "Can you do that?"

"Me? No," he said, half-listening as he finished the letter and set it to dry, before taking up another piece of parchment.

"I didn't mean it like that," Hawke murmured, putting her hands on her hips. She turned back with a sound of frustration. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Mmm," Anders murmured, writing still.

Absently squeezing both her breasts, Hawke looked at him and let a breath out, her lips humming in the process. She watched him working before she said, "So I never asked about that elven Warden. You asked her about the children." She put a knee on the bed, "Did you leave more behind in Ferelden than you've let on?"

"I - what?" Anders laid down his quill and turned in the chair.

"I didn't really think so," Hawke smirked, flopping onto the bed. "But it did get your attention."

Anders chuckled once, looking at his work before saying, "She's the one that made me a Warden."

"I know," Hawke said, rolling to look at him, dangling a leg off the bed. "It's alright, you know. If you were intimate, I mean. Maker knows you can't change the past."

"I wasn't," Ander's expression lightened more, and he shook his head. "The other warden is her husband. I knew their children, and I… helped her have a child."

Hawke's expression softened and she grinned, "As is your wont to do." As his eyes roamed over her, she toyed with her breasts again, "Certain you aren't tired?"
Smirking, Anders got up and said, "Well, not now."

"Pity that," Hawke pouted, and sat up, kneeling on the bed as he came close. Snagging his waist, she embraced him and leant up into the kiss he offered. Anders leant forward and pressed her into the bed, readily kissing deeper as she arched into his body. Breathing in against his lips, she murmured, "I've missed this."

Fumbling with his clothes as they kissed, Hawke threw them off the bed, taking particular delight in scattering them as his hands and mouth trailed over her skin. When she tried to gain the upper hand and flip him, Anders merely shook his head, pinning her with the weight of his body.

"Where do you think you're going?" he breathed, lips and nose in her neck as he nibbled and sucked.

"Going up," Hawke countered, testing her weight again. He caught her thigh, smiling into her skin as she half-wrestled him. "Always going up."

"And me?" Anders replied, softly laughing in her neck. Ink on his fingers smeared on her skin as he ground their hips together, a tease through their smalls. "Does that mean I'm going down."

"You don't usually complain about that," Hawke replied, earning a smack on her backside, and she yelped. The sound fell into a laugh as he snagged her wrist and flipped her on the bed, face down into the pillows. Her voice was muffled, "I – I meant Darktown, love. You're always going down to your clinic, of course."

Anders shook his head, letting go of her hand and crawling back on the bed as he took off her smalls. Hawke lay her hips against the bed, pillowing her head in her arms to try and look as he kissed up her legs. She snapped her lips shut at the ticklish touch, closing her eyes as he dragged tongue and lip over her skin.

"I'll give you another chance to escape," Anders said. His voice took a more sombre tone, "It's always there."

"Never," Hawke said, clutching the pillow over her mouth to stifle her laughter, before pulling it away. "No, I never want to escape you! Do your worst." She laughed again when he smacked her thighs, shaking her head, "I love you."

"Something seems wrong with that," Anders murmured, lips back against her skin. He bit her ass, and she was laughing again. "You're incorrigible."

"I know," Hawke put her face in the pillow again, before rising onto her knees under his hands. When his lips kissed her nether lips, she sighed, "Maker, I know."

Anders dragged his fingers over her hip, supping a few more licks before he shifted and guided himself in. Hawke tangled her fingers in the pillow, her soft moan heated into it as she pressed herself into his hips. She could hear the way his breath caught, the momentary hesitation at the delightful rush of pleasure in the satisfaction of their union.

Hawke's hand crept up the headboard, and she hung her head down as they flowed into each other, the soft smack of skin coupled with their heated breaths. His fingers were over her body, digging in with need just like his loins, leaving impressions on her skin as he caressed her abdomen and breasts. It pressed their bodies together, and she braced herself as he ground and thrust. Losing herself in the rhythm, her hand dipped between her thighs, panting as he gripped her shoulder from the front and filled her.

When they lay spent and sprawled on the tangled covers, Hawke watched him with veiled eyes. There was a flush on his cheeks and a peace to his features that was becoming more and more rare. It was an expression that was hers, something she gave him, and she rolled into him, possessive of the intimacy. He sighed a half smile as their bodies tangled together, comfortable and naked.

"Sometimes I think I could stay with you like this forever," he quietly murmured.

"By all means then," she replied, running her fingers through his hair as she nuzzled into the crook of his arm. He wrapped the other around her, hugging her close. "Keep this up, and we'll have little boys and bratty girls keeping us from laying about naked as we wish."

"You don't mean that," he chuckled, opening his eyes. Hers were still closed.

"Alright, if you think it'd be best for them," Hawke murmured against his skin, "No clothing allowed within the house. Orana and Bodahn might object."

Anders chuckled and turned to kiss her hair, breathing her in, "Not Sandal?"

"I'm not sure he'd notice or care," Hawke replied, sitting up to lean over him. "And of course I mean it."

Anders shook his head a little, cupping her cheek and sighing out, "Sometimes I don't know what to think. You are more than I ever could have dreamed."

"Truth is better than fiction, they say," Hawke replied, her eyes half-lidded with fatigue. She looked at his chest, drawing her fingers through the scant hair there, "I wanted to give you something."

"I'm not sure there's more you could give me than you do," Anders replied, kissing her shoulder and arm. "You never have to give me anything, love."

Hawke smirked slightly, "There's always more." She rolled away from him and retrieved something from her wardrobe, his eyes following her. She concealed it in her hand as she sat beside him, and Anders drew her close.

"It's silly," she said, her eyes down as she unfurled the chain that held the locket. "It was my mother's. And before that, it was my father's. And I want you to have it."

Anders sat up to take the hand that held the locket, "Marian, I..."

"Look, I know that Tevinter Chantry amulet will probably get you killed," she laughed a little, looking down as he let go of her hand. "I didn't think about it before I gave it to you. This one, I at least put some thought into."

"It means a lot to you," he quietly said.

"So do you," she replied, looking into his eyes before leaning and clipping it around his neck. "You're more important to me than any of it. The house, gold - even Varric." She laughed a little, looking away again, "You've seen me through everything. I don't really see me going anywhere any time soon... does it seem so odd I'd think about children? Alright, maybe it doe- "

Anders took her hand and pulled her down into his lips without a word. It was selfish, but he drove the thoughts away. He didn't speak of the taint in his blood. He didn't speak of the measures he took to keep her from conceiving. And he certainly didn't speak of the other measures that his possessed, obsessed mind wove in her absence.