A warning in advance: there will be sex. Quite a lot of it to be frank. Fenris's way of describing of how he had wanted to take it slow...

Enjoy!

Give me an answer 5

"And still that distant and pensively observing white moonlight was peeping in, like some kind of heavenly witness through the window of that particular room, set high in that particular severe fortress where so many events already had taken place. Observing, with that same cold absent interest, everything that happened in aforesaid room. Although, at this time it seemed her cool light had warmed up and had taken real attention. As if her rays wanted to outshine the sun. Some would have stated the Maker himself finally had deemed that the people he had abandoned had proven themselves worthy enough to awake his attention; others would tell the Elvhen Gods of old were looking upon the scene and they had taken up the courage to come back to life. Because a full moon never stays long in the sky and always is some kind of foreboding sign, acting almost as an eluvian, reflecting and invoking all kinds of feelings and events; a mirror to another time and a different place. As long as she shines everything is possible. And thus divine intervention could have been one of those possibilities."

A short pause followed and fell in the midst of a breathless crowd.

"Such version of the tale would, of course, be nonsense. It would be nothing but a fancy fairytale, only believed by ignorant peasants. Because real love doesn't need the intervention of gods. It just needs the meddling of pirates. A certain pirate in this case."

And because the dwarf told it, they swallowed it as the ultimate truth. It was the way how he told it, how he used his voice to weave an almost-existing world, and took their hand to lead them over the waves of emotions and expectations. At this moment the audience in the taproom of the tavern in Skyhold hung on his every word. Even Solas, leaning nonchalantly against the doorpost, couldn't suppress a smile. He noticed Cassandra, who was trying to hide in the shadows, was all but captivated but then again, the fierce woman had a streak of romantic feelings he hadn't seen coming. He found it amusing. He had to admit, however, the dwarf had a natural talent when it came to telling tales. Even he himself almost got swept away by it. And this one was full of hope; a glistening pebble in the dark fear that surrounded them all. How could he blame the Seeker for seeking solace this time, instead of the truth.

With his rolling baritone Varric told his addicted audience it was just the perfect night for two separated lovers to find each other again at long last. And this tale, how surprising, found a mass of followers. Because, Solas mused, most people wanted to believe in romance and a story ending right. It was no wonder Varric's saga's about extremely brave but self-sacrificing hero's, a typical dwarven preference, found not that many followers, and his novel about the Champion wasn't even his best sold book. After all, that one didn't end well, what with the start of the mages' uprising and the turmoil filled with blood and despair it had brought about. Leading to one of the disasters they all tried so very hard to put right. But at this very moment the dwarf was forging a more than satisfactory outcome to his Champion story. Solas smiled silently. In this harsh world people were dying for something to dream about, be it valour or extreme deeds of courage or, in this case, two persons pledging their everlasting love to each other after an extremely difficult time of separation. He had been in the Fade with the former Champion, he had heard the poisonous words Coryphaeus had spoken and thus knew about her predicament. He wished her every happiness in the world. She had earned it. And he knew Varric wasn't making it up; the bright shining light in his eyes betrayed his exhilaration.

Varric, in the meantime, had spotted both the Seeker and the enigmatic elven man listening to his clamorous story about his – still – favourite heroine and her elven lover. He had to grin inwardly, especially when he saw the normal boisterous Iron Bull and his Chargers stealthily crawling nearer in case they would miss a word. Stern Commander Cullen had even laid an arm around the Inquisitor and absentmindedly pulled her closer; a real heroic display of affection in public.

He had the creepy feeling both the Maker and the Elvhen Gods took notes.

They'd better because, to his immense pleasure, yesterday he had received a message from Rivaini. And the message had been very good. It had made his day. In fact, it had repaired all the nasty mental injuries Hawke had inflicted with her eerie behaviour in the Fade. He couldn't stop beaming.

'I believe there's a bottle of wine lying somewhere about,' Hawke mumbled when she more or less was able to talk again after she had finally floated out of her exaltation and could think coherently. 'With the complements of the First Warden no less. I believe he tried to bribe me with it, or was using it as some kind of bait to get me out of his office, for it was obvious he wanted to be rid of me as fast as possible.' Her voice still sounded thick and foggy after her second flight to ecstasy. She still couldn´t believe what had happened and, frankly, didn´t want to know how it had happened. Or why. She simply wanted to let the bliss wash over her and through her, without complicating side-effects.

She lay back into the thick luxurious pillows of the four poster bed, where they had ended up, with her eyes closed, and basked in Fenris's wondrous weight upon her upper body. He was clearly as spent and drowsy as she was. And hopefully felt equally happy. 'Right now I would like some wine. To celebrate or something like that,' she explained her remark. She couldn't help but chortling girlishly.

She felt liberated. For such a long time she had been wandering in a black pit of despair, so convinced she could only bring harm to the ones she loved, that she had come to the conclusion that the title of the Angel of Death she had bestowed upon herself, should be added to the list of the horrible creatures pestering Thedas she had come across, while she was roaming Weisshaupt's library to gather information about Corypheus and red lyrium. But then Fenris had showed up to rattle her bones, followed by Isabela to shake her out of her stupor, and finally her elf had again come to her to fully open her eyes, to haul her out of that terrible abyss and by doing so, managed to heal her aching wounds. The dark words sounding like a hellish prophecy had drowned or rather faded. A little smile unfolded. Indeed, faded, vanished into the Fade where they belonged, together with that unsavoury monster that had uttered them to hit her where it most hurt. She not only felt liberated but also gratified, relieved and extremely, if not insanely happy.

'Hmm,' the same elf answered languidly, if you could call it an answer. He was resting with his head on her chest, using her one breast as a cushion and holding the other with his free hand, while his thumb lazily moved over the soft skin just below her nipple. With some difficulty he heaved his chin and looked at her through half opened lids. 'You're implying I should get out of bed to go searching for said bottle,' he said accusingly.

'You hold me all but captive,' she pointed out. 'I can't get up.' She had opened her eyes at his move, and now caught the sudden mischievous silvery glint in the shining beloved springtime green.

'That can be remedied,' the elf grinned and rolled off her body, propping himself up on an elbow. He made a wide waving gesture at her involuntary freedom. 'See.' He laughed at her fuddled expression and lightly touched her face, showing her his so treasured crooked smile. 'Just stay, love, let me.' Elegantly he slipped off the bed; he looked around for just a few moments before he spotted the bottle of wine, sitting on the low round table that stood in the middle of the large room.

With much approval Hawke ogled his taut behind while he walked over to his goal. 'Leave the glasses,' she called after him. 'Let's drink straight from the bottle like we used to do in our good old fashioned way. You know, just after you found out that drinking the wine was a better idea than decorate your walls with it.'

He laughed. 'Whatever you like.' Fenris studied the label and concluded with satisfaction, 'It's an Antivan red Summer Passion and a very good vintage at that. I always liked the Antivans for the simple plain names they give their wines. This title covers its contents in the best possible way; it's definitely a good bribe or bait,' he added playfully. He opened the bottle and turned back to the bed. He immediately caught the admiring if not hungry look with which her eyes followed him. 'Enjoy what you're seeing?' There was a twinkle in his eyes she couldn't miss, not even in the dim light.

'Enjoy? That's poorly put. I revel in it,' Hawke smirked. 'And you know it.'

He settled next to her against the thick pillows and snuggled close to her. He offered her the first drink. 'Do I now? And by the way, celebrate what exactly?'

She tilted her head and ticked off. 'Our reunion, leading to our engagement, me being dragged out of the precipice of depression by your words and presence, the best sex I had in a long time, you name it ... And while we're at that last subject, I'm curious to know ...' Hawke started pensively before she took a sip of the Summer Passion. She hummed her approval at the taste of the rich red liquid. She passed the bottle back to him. 'This is indeed damn good wine. Perhaps we should make use of glasses after all.'

Fenris raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not leaving this bed once more.'

'You don't have to,' Hawke smiled. She reached out her hand to pick up a glass sitting on the side table next to the bed. 'They left one here, together with a pitcher filled with fresh water. From the outside this might look like an austere fortress, but in reality it turns out to be a first class hostel. At least for the few guests who apparently earn the warm welcome,' she added sarcastically. She heaved the glass and he filled it with the Antivan Summer Passion. Hawke took another appreciating sip.

'You were curious to know – something,' Fenris encouraged her to speak her mind before it had wandered off. Especially because he was curious about the subject.

'Ah yes, the question about the sex.' She giggled at his sudden bewildered face. Six years ago she wouldn't have dreamed uttering such plain teasing words – what! not even six months ago. But now she felt comfortable with them. So much had changed of late and had even more rapidly changed this very night. Perhaps the former changes had come as the knotted gnarled roots of an ancient tree, tangling around each other in an almost suffocating way. New habits and emotions trying to mix with old experiences, but with the lingering stubborn old ones hardly giving space for new ideas, because so much pain stood in the way. But the last change had been as a new, fresh and bold green sprout, finding nutritious earth to flourish on, and pushing the old roots aside.

'I'm curious to know how in Andraste's name you imagined you could take it slow like you insisted you wanted to do,' she concluded her by herself interrupted sentence. 'I mean, after all this time and we both being on edge, the idea seems to me unimaginable if not preposterous. It boggles the mind.' She wiggled her eyebrows at him but to her astonishment he took her flippantly spoken words very seriously. The moment after she would find out, to her own advantage to be frank, how seriously.

Fenris gently took the glass out of her hands and put the vessel together with the bottle back on the side table. 'Do you want me to tell you ... or to show you,' he murmured huskily. Her eyes flew wide and her breath hitched but he gave her no room for a lucid reaction. She could feel him smile faintly when his moist lips lightly kissed the skin of her throat.

At the same time his fingers touched her shoulder. They crept to the nape of her neck while his mouth moved to the spot behind her ear. 'For example I would have given this particular spot a lot of attention,' he whispered and his warm breath swirled down her back, giving her goose bumps. She felt the tip of his tongue give her a small lick which added only to her excitement. 'And do you know why?'

She squeaked something incomprehensible.

'Because here I can smell the scent of your very being, that sweet tantalizing scent of cherry blossom and ripe peaches, combined with the tang of wild honey. Please don't ever use perfume to spoil that.' Very slowly he let his lips wander down her arm while his fingertips softly rasped down her spine. 'And after that I would have worshipped every inch of your silky body,' he murmured. He took her hand in his and kissed each knuckle of her fingers. He turned her arm and started back up from her wrist over the sensitive skin of the inside of her arm to her elbow. In the meantime his other hand had reached the end of her back and travelled up again in the same maddening slow tempo.

Already she was turning into a defenceless puddle of desire.

'And then I would have stopped to feed you some wine,' he said lowly. He put one arm around her trembling shoulders and reached easily for the half-filled glass, waiting patiently on the side-table for him to lift it. Without a protest she swallowed the liquid from the glass he gently held to her mouth before he sat it down again. He drank the last drops from her lips. He kissed her with such tenderness it almost brought her to tears.

'Fenris,' she whimpered but he silenced her with yet another impossible soft kiss. She thought she would literally melt.

'And after that,' he went on with that hypnotizing gravelly voice, 'I would have explored other even more exhilarating places you have to offer.' His fingers trailed down her other arm while his lips followed the path to her chest. His tongue briefly flicked around an erect nipple and she stifled a strident cry. A part of her wanted to haul him into her arms and force him to take her right here and now. Another part waited enchanted what he would do next and the rest of her was simply too captivated with his ministrations to react at all, at least not on its own account. He had made her his willing prisoner but, to be honest, right now she didn't want it any other way.

His mouth travelled back up and caught her lips; he gently bit her and she felt his tongue slip in, lazily entangling with hers while his fingers feathered over her waist and went up to her breasts, giving every square inch of her body he came across loving attention, in the most gentle and enticing way possible. Once more he dimly had lit his markings and he engulfed her with the electrifying effect. Enthralled she let him do what he pleased. There was no way she could, or even was willing, to waylay him. He left her mouth again and looked into her eyes. He leant his forehead against hers. She was all but rapt by the love he radiated. 'Perhaps I would have thought at this time a little sip of wine again would fit in my idea of how to adore you,' he murmured.

Somewhere she found her voice, or at least a part of it. 'Fenris,' she croaked, 'I don't know if can take it much longer.'

His smile swept her away. 'Hush my love.' He suddenly sank his teeth into the crook of her shoulder. It wasn't fierce at all; in fact it wasn't more than a nibble but it came so unexpected that it shot fiery bolts through her centre and left her breathless. Helplessly she clung onto him and she accepted without any protest the next drink of wine he offered her. And once more he drank the sweet liquid off her lips; or even better, this time he dipped his tongue into her mouth to share the same sip with her. It left her even more exhilarated. She'd never known he could play her like a well-tuned lute. No, that wasn't true, she had known but right now he was taking that knowledge to a whole other level. An extremely high level. He was a tremendously fabulous musician. At least when it considered her body, her soul and every other part of her. But if he'd put this up, he could play with her very existence as far as she was concerned. She sank back into the pillows, completely surrendering herself to his actions.

He let his fingers trace between her breasts to her abdomen and even further down while his mouth again went to the beloved spot behind her ear. 'I would have said I longed so strongly for you it almost took my senses away,' he breathed. 'That in fact the last shred of those senses were spent on finding you in this Maker forgotten place to recapture you.' She heard him forcefully take in air. 'I would have said Icould not even express how thankful I was that I in reality could breathe in your scent again.'

In the meantime his soft and yet wicked fingers had reached her inner thighs. Her whole body went taut. If he had confessed right here and now he, in fact, was a mage and held her enthralled in his charm, she would have believed it and even more would have been more than fine with it.

I want you, please take me

'And then ...' He let his voice hover in the air the very moment he left the tender skin of her thighs and touched her anticipating wet folds. It was as if she got struck by a lightning bolt. Behind her closed eyes she could see the violent light with which his markings went from dim to almost blinding bright. He longed for her as much as she longed for him. What did he wait for? She let out a cry and arched her back. 'Please ...' she begged, grabbing his shoulders, 'don't torment me any longer.'

He let out a little chuckle and managed to check his sudden outburst of white shining lyrium. 'Of course I would have hoped for that reaction.' His hoarse voice did nothing but entice her more. In a desperate attempt she tried to grasp his body, every part of it, to force him to take possession of her. He caught her arms that tried to embrace him with an inimitable swift reaction, and once more captured her mouth with his. Only this time his tongue was much more demanding, as good as commanding her to surrender to him. Without any objection she did. It was a good start.

'Don't stop,' she panted when they were forced to take a breath. 'What would you have done after this?'

He gave her such a soft and at the same time smouldering smile, she as good as dissolved under his contradicting stare.

'You really want to know?'

'Please,' she pleaded breathlessly.

He hesitated. 'I don't want to end this,' he whispered.

'Please,' she repeated.

Tantalizingly slow he inserted a finger into her hungering sheath. She might have expected this action, it still caught her off guard. She bucked. It became even worse when his soft lips left hers to journey over her body, kissing and nibbling her until they reached their goal. And then he let that ever so skilled tongue play over her hard yearning pearl, while his finger curled inside her. She bucked more forcefully; she felt her orgasm building fast, but wanted to postpone it. Not now, he wanted to take it ... she was hardly able to think soundly.

Nevertheless she let out a frustrated guttural moan when his hands and mouth left her burning centre alone and ever so slowly travelled back up, his lips trailing kisses over her heated skin, until his body covered hers and she could feel his heart pound against hers.

He hid his face in her shoulder and his voice, strained with want, resonated through her head when he groaned, 'I would have taken much more time.'

'I think this would have more than sufficed,' Marian managed.

He cupped her face while he moved between her legs. 'I had wanted to.'

Marian threw her legs around his waist. 'Please,' she croaked feebly. 'Don't let this become torture.'

He gave her a scorching look and it made her shiver. 'This is sweet torture,' he groaned. The tip of his hardened length entered her – and stayed motionless. He rested his lips on the spot behind her ear and grazed her skin. 'I worship you,' he whispered. They both held their breath, taken away by the picture he had painted, frozen in the momentum. He still didn't want it to end; she was near to tears.

'You've made your point,' she panted, helplessly. 'I understand. I love you. I trust you. I will be your wife. And I will repeat it over and over again. Yes, I love you, but right now I lust for you. Just, just fuck me godsdamned!'

However much he wished to, he couldn't hold back anymore.

She felt him burying himself deep inside her and couldn't help but crying out his name. He tried hard to keep a low rhythm but she urged him on and he lost himself in her warm moist depth. He drowned in the cloud of her scent and wetness, sweet and riveting and arousing, and his thrusts became faster and more urgent, until his whole existence boiled down to just being with her and inside her, and form one body out of two. And then her orgasm inevitably took her and swirled her away while she tried to keep a hold onto him.

He could simply feel and smell her lose her essence and give it to him. When he gave his to her, moments later, he fell boneless on her body, not able to help himself. He just hoped he wouldn't crush her. But the forceful way she threw her arms around him reassured him.

'Marian, my love,' he murmured.

It took a long time before they got to their senses. After all the passion they had shared this night, this was in the end the most intense love-making. It probably surpassed the night they had made up for all the lost years. Finally he heaved his head and looked at her flushed face. He let his fingers linger on her cheek. 'And of course after that I would have told you how much I love you and would have asked you to become my wife,' he said with a little smile. 'That part got away with me earlier this evening. I had it all worked out in my mind and it came out so wrong.'

Only now he noticed some tears were dripping down her face. 'Marian?'

She shook her head. 'I shouldn't have been so impatient; I should have let you take it slow,' she whimpered. 'Maker! I knew you were the perfect lover!' She wiped away her tears. ´I knew you loved me but never how much. Forgive me ... I suppose I was still scared you would leave me. And even that I shouldn't have taken into consideration, because you would never have done such a thing.´

He turned on his side, taking her with him in his loving embrace. ´So now you know. No more fears. What about another sip of wine?' While he kept on holding her, he worked himself up on an elbow and took the bottle in his hand.

With a shaking laugh she accepted. 'So this was the way you had wanted to propose. Stupid me, I should have known. I ruined it.'

She drew herself up and pushed her nose against his neck. 'Cherry blossom and ripe peaches and something about wild honey?' She surprised him by remembering his heated description of how she smelled; and then surprised him even more when she whispered into his ear, 'Have you any inkling of how you can you drive me wild with your scent of wild forest and sweet jasmine?'

His eyes flew wide. 'What?'

She giggled softly. 'Apparently I'm not the only one who smells nice.'

He fastened his grip on her. 'Apparently not.' He almost dropped the bottle of Summer Passion.

´I was such an idiot to leave you,´ she groaned.

It led to another round of lovemaking and after that they were really utterly exhausted.

Nevertheless neither of them could sleep. There still were loose ends and questions to answer and they both knew it.

Thank you for reading!