Fifteen Kisses

Lips**

She'd imagined kissing him for the longest time, but never dared to actually do it. But then she heard about the templars in Darktown and rushed to his clinic to make sure he was okay. For the brief seconds she couldn't find him she imagined the worst, fear and despair gripping her heart like a vice. When he found her and pulled her into hiding, she was so relieved. The situation had set her emotions into a frenzy and she couldn't take it anymore—so she finally kissed him. She forgot about the templars, about everything, except how right it felt. When she pulled back, he stared at her, almost in awe, before his brows knit together and he frowned. He told her they could never happen, that he didn't want to hurt her, and she stormed away, ashamed and angry. He didn't want to hurt her, but that's exactly what he'd done.

Forehead

She was a light sleeper. She had to be, living on the run with her family in the early years of her life. So it didn't take very long for her to realize just how bad his nightmares were. He always awoke panicked and on edge, breaths unsteady and shallow. She pulled him into her arms, curling her body protectively around his as she tried to calm him down. He clutched at her like a lifeline, and she smoothed his hair from his face, pressing a light kiss to his sweaty forehead before holding his head against her chest. She whispered words of love, stroked his back, and held him until he relaxed against her. Only when she knew he fell back asleep did she allow herself to join him.

Cheek

She enjoyed spending time at the Hanged Man with her friends, especially since a certain mage didn't shy away from her when they got too close or stared for too long. It was the opposite now; they'd always sit right next to each other, chairs pressed together, and when he caught her staring his lips would quirk into the lopsided smile he reserved only for her. When he thought no one was looking, he tucked her hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Of course everyone was looking, and she rolled her eyes at their comments, threatening to electrify them all if they didn't shut it. He let out a light laugh and whispered in her ear, telling her to save the sparks for later. She dragged him home immediately.

Nose

He knew she was exhausted, so he didn't ask too much of her when she came to help out in his clinic. As the day went on, he noticed her yawning more and more, trying to stay awake until she disappeared altogether. When he sent his last patient home, he looked around for her, smiling to himself when he found her. She was asleep on his old cot, one arm and a leg dangling off the side, a light snore escaping her. He gently brushed her hair out of her face and kissed the tip of her freckled nose. She jerked awake, alarmed and ready to strike, until she saw it was only him. She huffed and pulled him down onto the cot. She gave him a chance to get comfortable before draping herself on top of him and promptly falling back asleep. It seemed they would be staying in his clinic for the night.

Back of Hand

Her mother had forced her to go to some event with the other nobles, so he spent the night working on his manifesto. When he heard her come home, he grabbed the parchment and went to bring it to her, eager to have her read it over. When he found her, he stopped dead in his tracks and just stared. Maker, she was all done up and wearing a dress, and she looked absolutely stunning. She was uncomfortable under his gaze, and snapped at him, demanding he stop staring at her like that. He chuckled and smirked, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as he bowed. He told her she was beautiful, throwing in a few utterances of "my lady" just to annoy her. It worked, and she swatted him away before stomping into their bedroom, leaving him laughing in the hallway.

Fingertips

She loved watching him heal. She'd never taken to it; all she could do with her magic was destroy, so healing fascinated her. His healing especially. She'd never admit it, but she was guilty of "accidentally" hurting herself on more than one occasion so she'd have a chance to see his magic at work. Which was why she was sitting in his clinic bleeding all over the place because she'd "accidentally" cut herself. He inspected her wound, cleaning it before pressing his hand over it, his fingers glowing with blue healing magic. She watched him concentrate, brows knit together and eyes focused on his task, the warmth from his magic sending tingles down her spine. When he finished, she grabbed his hand and kissed his magical fingertips, thanking him. He shot her a smile, and the look in his eyes told her he knew all along about her "accidents."

Collarbone

He was still protesting coming to bed when she started kissing him. So she kept at it, trailing her lips down his neck, her fingers working to get his coat off. He didn't push her away, but he still wouldn't shut up. She yanked his coat collar aside and nibbled on his collarbone, momentarily silencing him. When he opened his mouth to continue speaking, she bit him harder and he breathed in sharply, his grasp on her arms tightening. She waited a moment, to see if he would dare to start protesting again, but he didn't, thank the Maker. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone where she'd bitten him and pulled back, meeting his gaze. He shook his head and she grinned at him, taking his hand and leading him to their room.

Shoulder

He'd done it. He'd finally done it. After three years, he finally told her that he loved her, and she said she felt the same. He was terrified it all was a dream, that he'd wake up alone in his clinic, Justice chastising him for thinking about her again. But it wasn't a dream. He was in her home, in her bed, and he was holding her sleeping form in his arms. He shifted his arms around her more securely, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She let out a sleepy sigh, murmuring his name and pressing her body even closer to him. He smiled, breathing in her scent, and let sleep take him. He knew she would still be there when he woke up.

Spine

He'd told her of life in the Circle, of what they did to him every time they dragged him back, but hearing about something and seeing it for yourself were two entirely different things. She hated seeing the scars on his body—mostly his back—from the various beatings he'd endured at the hands of the templars. She ran her fingers and lips over the faded lines up his spine while whispering words of love against his skin. She vowed she wouldn't let the templars do such a thing to him, or any other mage, ever again. That as long as she lived, she would stand by his side and fight to get mages the freedom that they deserved.

Throat

He hadn't heard her come in and didn't realize he wasn't alone until she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. He glanced to her quickly before returning his focus to his manifesto. He probably should have acknowledged her more, but he had to finish. He and Justice had to make people see how mages were persecuted, how magic was a gift from the Maker, not a curse, that—
The press of her lips to his throat calmed him and helped him to silence the spirit in his head. He let out a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. She told him she loved him, and pressed another kiss to his neck before releasing him. He thought she was going to leave, but instead, she pulled up a chair and picked up the first page of his manifesto, her eyes scanning over his words. When she finished the page, she grabbed the next, reading that one, too. She looked up and met his gaze with a smile, and he smiled back. She got back to reading, and he started writing again, that smile still on his face.

Stomach

He loved everything about her. The way she wanted to help everyone in Kirkwall. How she would come to the defense of her friends at the drop of a hat, no matter what they did. The way her eyes glinted with mischief when she fought enemies, her magic a pure destructive force compared to the way she gracefully moved with her staff, as if it were an extension of her. That cute little yawn she did before falling into bed and curling up beside him. Her scent. The way she ran her hands through his hair when she was comforting him, and the way she tangled her fingers in it when they were intimate. How her stomach muscles would tighten and quiver as he kissed her there, how she arched her back and pressed herself closer to him, silently asking for more. The sounds she made and the way she breathed his name when she was completely lost. How she'd cling to him afterwards, whispering about how she wished they could stay like that forever, together, in each other's arms. What he loved the most, though, was the look on her face when they were alone and she told him she loved him. He could see the love in her eyes, that she loved all of him, no matter what. It was times like those that he almost believed they could have a happy ending.

Hipbone

Her body was still new to him, and he was determined to learn every curve of it. He ran his hands over her, his lips following, kissing a path down from her neck, her chest, and her stomach, over her hips and down her legs, all the way to her feet. She giggled when he tickled her with his stubble, sighed and moaned when he found a particularly sensitive spot on her skin. He committed every slope and valley of her body to memory, never wanting to forget a single part of her. She was beautiful, and somehow she was his. He was going to make sure every kiss and caress showed her just how much he loved her.

Outer Thigh

She fought recklessly, dashing into the heat of battle, wielding her staff as if it were a melee weapon. She bashed and stabbed just as much as she used magic, and while she was mesmerizing to watch, she always gave him a heart attack. She got injured just as much as any warrior, suffering bruises and stabs on a regular basis. He used to tell her how dangerously she fought when he patched her up, but she would just grin and laugh, beautiful even with her face covered in blood. He didn't bother with the warnings anymore; she never listened anyway. And that's why there was a deep, bleeding slash wound in her outer thigh. He cleaned the wound and healed it, and she let out a sigh of relief. She moved to leave, but he held onto her and pressed a kiss to her newly healed skin. She grinned at him, jerking him upwards by his coat and pressing her lips to his, muttering a "thank you" between kisses. When she pulled back she winked at him, then grabbed his hand and tugged him along to catch up with their friends.

Inner Thigh

She kissed his inner thigh, refusing to put her lips where he really wanted… not yet, at least. She was going to draw it out as long as she could, tease him until he cracked. It seemed a fitting punishment for making her wait three years to be with him. Three long years of loving him and being rejected every time she tried to bring it up, even though she knew he'd felt something for her, too. Three years of standing by his side through anything and everything, just because she believed in him and wanted to be around him. Three ridiculous years of trying to ignore that handsome face so she could focus on other things, like not adding deadly ingredients to health potions. Yes, torturing him in bed seemed like the perfect way to make him wish they started this years ago. She would make sure he knew what he was missing for all that time and make sure he would never, ever think of doing such a thing again.

Pelvic Bone

The best part of her day was waking up beside him. She never had someone stay the night, let alone move in, until him, and she loved every aspect of it. She loved cuddling in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers as she slept. She loved waking him up with kisses until he laughed and kissed her back. She loved waking up to his gentle hands stroking her hair or rubbing her back. She loved the days when he was feeling mischievous, waking her up with little kisses and nips to her pelvic bone before traveling south and making her toes curl. Mostly she loved that she wasn't alone. That she finally had someone she could be herself around. She didn't have to hide her magic or guard herself. She could just be.

**Lips → In my headcanon, the in-game kiss wasn't their first kiss. There were a few before that over the three years between Act 1 and Act 2, and Anders would always tell Olivia that it could never happen again.