This is about to get...naughty. M for mature. You've been warned.

Behind Closed Doors - Rise Against

Remain Nameless - Florence & The Machine

Flesh - Simon Curtis

Drive - Melissa Ferrick

Animals - Neon Trees

The Greatest Show - Panic! At the Disco (Cover)

Chapter 11:

I do not like the goddamn storm effing coast. Do you hear me universe? Do you? Do you hear me? Oh my god, the humidity. What the shit? This is almost like that time I went to Miami as a kid. The sticky, grimy, ugh feeling wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that it had been raining on us for nearly two days straight.

"Your worship." Scout Harding greeted us before I ever got off Boggie. Well, that was better than Herald I guess. "For what it's worth; Welcome to the Storm Coast. I would have sent word sooner but our efforts have been… delayed."

"Delayed," Alistair said, "by what?"

I elbowed him. "Why don't I introduce you to our newest members first before we start asking questions. Scout Harding, this is Alistair Theirin, former Gray Warden, good friend of mine for many years. The blonde one is Sera, gifted with the ability to wreak havoc with a bow," at which Sera mock saluted,
"and you've met Solas."

Harding nodded to them all. "Good to meet you. Solas, good to see you again."

"And you Scout Harding." He replied much too cheerily for my liking.

"Delayed by a group of bandits." Harding went ahead and answered Alistair's question. "They're operating in the area. They know the terrain and our small party has had trouble going up against them. Some of our soldiers went to speak with their leader. Haven't heard back, though."

"When shit hits, it just flings everywhere doesn't it?" I said flipping up my collar in an attempt to block out the rain. It didn't work very well.

Scout Harding gave me a small chuckle. "It does ma'am." She walked with us to the edge of the camp. "The soldiers didn't have an exact location for the bandits, but they were starting their search father down the beach. With all this fuss, we haven't been able to conduct a proper search for the wardens either." She sighed and looked out toward the water. "Well, good luck and enjoy the sea air." She smiled at me, "I hear it's good for the soul."

In the distance the dragon out on that island that is a bitch to get to circled and cried out.

Sera, getting all excited, ran to the edge of the cliff and knocked some decently sized pebbles off in the process. "Is that a real dragon?"

"Bigger or smaller than that one guarding the ashes?" I asked Alistair.

He gave it a good hard look as it circled in the air a couple of times. "Can't tell from here."

Sera turned around, much too excited about the prospect of dragons. "We're going to get closer?"

"Maybe. Depends on how fast we deal with the bandits, find the wardens and meet with the Chargers." Water dripped down my face, running in rivulets down my clothing. Inside my clothing. Ugh. "Christ I hate this place and we've been here all of ten fucking minutes."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it was that bad." Solas had the audacity to breathe in deeply and smile like he was enjoying himself. "Sea air is supposed to be invigorating, is it not?"

I raised one finger to him. Yes, that finger. "Solas, I like you, so I'm going to give you one warning. Keep up with this cheery shit and see how hard I backhand you."

Sera guffawed at that.

Alistair gave him an apologetic look. "Ellie gets moody when she hasn't seen the sun in a couple of days."

"It's called seasonal depression." I yelled back as I began to trudge down the side of the hill. "Now move your asses, I want this day over with!"

Sera, being Sera, slid down the hillside a trail of loose gravel and a few slightly bigger rocks following her down. She whooped as she pushed off against one jutting out rock and attempted a superhero landing. Not quite a perfect ten, but damn close. Seven point five, maybe eight if I was being generous.

I applauded as she landed about five feet from me, one knee in the dirt the other catching her weight in a crouch. "Nice."

"Oof, my knees." She rubbed her left knee, the one that caught her weight.

"Yeah, you're not sixteen anymore, your body won't just bounce back."

"Oi, you calling me old?"

"Sera, I'm nearly thirty, I'm older than you."

"You're a young almost thirty." She threw her left arm around my shoulder and bumped my hip with hers. "Come on slow pokes! The Herald wants her porridge and a nap!"

I would have scowled but food and a nap sounded great at this point.

Alistair and Solas took a moment longer. Alistair because his armor was throwing him off balance and Solas because, well, he's Solas. He strolls.

Then I remembered the skull back up there near camp. You know what. I'd get it later in the evening before bed so that if it did give me vertigo, I would be able to close my eyes and lie down afterward. I hate those skulls. I think I hate them more than I hate the Storm Coast.

We covered about two hundred feet before reaching the actual coast, and hearing the sounds of fighting pick up. There would be the Chargers and Iron Bull. We ran that last seventy or so feet to the shore. It was a shame Fenris was still too angry with me to come. He would have loved redirecting all that pent up pissed off energy into putting his hand through the chests of Tevinters.

Emma grunted curled up in a ball under the comforter in her bed, attempting to read one of the horror novels she downloaded for free from Amazon before she left. This place, Thedas, practically shouted horror movie setting. That forest surrounding the pass she couldn't remember the name of reminded her of something out of a ghost story.

Outside some of the soldiers were annoyingly drunk, and singing a bizarre, throaty song that definitely wasn't in any form or English/Common that she knew. Ellie said they spoke Spanish here, but it was called Antivan, and she was pretty sure Cassandra's accent was something germanic. This however, whatever that shit was, was neither.

Right about the time that the girl in the book realized that there was something sitting on her bed and things were getting to a nice level of creepy, some asshole outside hollered something. Okay. That's it. Enough playing nice. Ellie left her behind because apparently there was a dragon and giants and stuff, but right now - grr. Emma shoved up out of bed and dropped her kindle without powering off on the pillow. She stomped to the door, pulled the lock, threw it open and nearly walked straight into spiky black armor and a white haired elf.

"Oh shit-" she caught herself before slamming into him. It took her a second to assess. His fist lowered like he'd been about to knock. "What are you doing here?" She almost called him Grumpy, but that would have just been rude to dwarves named Grumpy. There were a lot of dwarves around here. Maybe one was named Grumpy.

Fenris eyed her carefully. "Do you know me?"

"Yeah," Emma crossed her arms over her chest, "you're the jackass my best friend was in love with for some ridiculous reason."

Alistair was Elyria's best friend. Taking the second to process that left him missing part of Emma's rant.

"And you, by the way, dick, are seventy five percent of the reason she even came back to this shitshow. Do you think, for one second, that she wants to be the damn Herald of Andraste? No. She wanted to be with the guy she loves, you, and her other buddy, the human teddy bear. And you can't cut her some slack? You suck on a whole different level of suck. How you managed to get Ellie to fall for you, I don't know. Elvish weirdness or magic or some shit like that." Emma stalked over to the desk and dragged out the hefty unedited tomb of paper she spent most of the last three days reading since they'd returned from the Thedas version of France. "You know how much of her book is dedicated to telling the world how much she loves you?" She grabbed a large section of paper. "Like this much. It's two hundred and sixteen pages back to back and you take up this much. That's a lot of goddamn real estate devoted to your skinny, ungrateful, flat, ass!"

She huffed. That was a lot of breath in one go. Emma shoved the book into his hands. "Read it, and I know you can because bitch - she taught you. And do me a favor, when you're done, and you're mea culping on your knees - remember Ellie deserves someone better than you." Emma, with a smile she hoped conveyed a fuck you, slammed the door in his face.

Oh damn. She forgot to yell at those loud bozos. She flipped the lock again just incase skinny with a case of bad temper decided to bug her again. Then she went to the window, threw open the shutters, pushed up the glass pane and yelled, "Assholes, if you don't shut your mouths I'm going to write the Herald and let her know she has some asses to kick. You want to face her?"

There was a bunch of drunken hushing, a 'sorry' called in her direction. She settled down with her kindle once more, which thankfully had not gone to sleep yet and pulled the covers back over her head. It only occurred to her, while the presence in the girl's room was making the floorboards creak and groan that she hadn't asked the elf what he wanted.

What Fenris wanted, was to finally speak to Elyria. As he stood on the cold stone outside the darkened cabin, slightly stunned that someone he didn't know gave him such a tongue lashing, and confused as to who she was, he held the book. That was a lot to process, as Alistair would have said.

He looked down at the hefty stack of paper in his hands. He remembered her writing this. Always working on it when she had a few moments. He'd walk into her flat and she would be scribbling at the dining table, look up at him and smile.

He missed the way she smiled at him. He missed the way it made him feel to know she was smiling at him. For him, because he made her happy. The hollow ache in his chest where he loved her reminded him once more with a throb that it wasn't healed. An old scab that still bled into his soul.

Fenris checked around the camp, looking for a familiar head of blonde hair now colored with fading shades of green and purple. When he didn't find her, he looked for Alistair. When he didn't find Alistair, he went in search of Varric. The dwarf he found sitting at table in the tavern across from another dwarf with graying bright red hair, and rank ale breath.

"We called him pike-twirler. Always twirling his," burp, "pike." Oghren, though Fenris had no idea this was the same Oghren that fought the Blight, grumbled. "Who're you?" The dwarf slurred at Fenris.

Fenris ignored him. "Varric, have you seen-"

"This is Ogrhen. As in, the Oghren." Varric said scribbling as fast as his fingers and the quill he had would allow. "Can you believe it?"

"Have you seen Elyria?" Fenris asked impatiently.

Varric didn't even look up. "She left about three days ago."

A crease formed between Fenris' eyes as his brow scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean she left? They returned from Val Royeaux three days ago." He saw her standing with the red haired assassin and the Antivan diplomat.

Varric sighed and put down his quill, mentally filing this moment away for later. "Are you joking? You've been broodier than usual, downright pissy, and you're wondering why she would avoid coming back here? She. Left. With Alistair, Solas and Sera. They went up to the Storm Coast to recruit some guy they call the Iron Bull. They'll be back in a week." Varric waved him off. "Go away. I'm busy." He picked up the quill again. "Tell me more about Alistair." Varric said to Oghren.

The other dwarf grinned drunkenly. "He's a bastard!"

Fenris, irritated, left the tavern before he put his fist through something living. The stone golem that arrived the day before, stood stock still as he passed it. The thing unnerved him, but he would never say it aloud. He made his way back to his tent, sat down cross legged, lit a tallow candle and opened the book to the first page.

Fenris read approximately sixty five pages before his eyes began to cross and water. She saved the abomination's life. He'd always known it. He heard it enough times whenever the abomination attempted to have, what Elyria and Alistair called 'a hissy fit' over being smited. They saved his life. Did he want them to correct the situation? Typically, after that, the abomination would quiet down to a low grumble.

The candle had gone down quite a bit, and now that he rubbed his eyes and cracked both his neck and back, he honestly couldn't remember the last bell that rang. Or if he ate. He blew out the candle, and shifted to lean over and pull aside the heavy drape of the entrance to the tent. The blackness cut only by the stumble of drunk soldiers returning to their tent or on patrol and the lit torches spotting the walkways.

How long had he been reading? Long enough he supposed. He set the book aside, settled down on his bedroll. Fenris wasn't certain when he fell asleep only that he did sleep.

He woke up in bed without her. The spot where her head lay on the pillow next to him was only a little cool, still smelling of the rosehip soap and lavender body cream she was fond of. The bells of Kirkwall rang distantly five times. Fenris looked up at the crack in the whitewash paint of the ceiling, bathed in the bright light of sunrise. He sat up on his elbows, looking about for her. "Elyria?"

The door to her bedroom opened, and he took in a sight that burned itself into his memories. His woman dressed in his tunic, the hem of it hanging tantalizingly down around her upper thighs. She carried two steaming cups of tea. "Good morning sleepy head." She said it affectionately, smiling at him warmly.

He couldn't hide the faint happy glow coming from his scars. Not that he wanted to. Last night he'd lit up the room with her. She hadn't shyed away, whispering to him she thought he was beautiful. He pushed out of bed, taking both cups from her carefully. His sleeping pants catching on one errant nail at the edge of the bed.

They hadn't made love yet, but they were working on it.

He had to learn to enjoy being touched again. So far, as last night had proven, he was coming along nicely. Twice in fact. Three times for her. He set the cups down, turning to her to steal a kiss. Which she readily returned.

At some point, the tea now a separate and forgotten thought, they ended up back on the bed. Him on top, kneeling between her thighs, the hem of his shirt riding up past her small clothes. He was already hooking his fingers on the band, sliding them down. She made that sound she made last night, that throaty, low moan when he pressed fingers into her again. Two, she could take two. Three was too much. His long fingers curved upward inside her, finding that soft, almost spongy spot and stroking it. Her hips cleared the bed as she cursed loudly.

Fenris had a vague, more the ghost of a shadowy memory, that he'd done this before with someone. Though he could not remember them or when. It might have been a dream. It could have been. He thought not, as he rolled that little bundle of nerves in small circles and kissed her after making her beg him not to stop. He knew what to do and where to touch too well for it to be a dream.

Even in the throes of passion, she was careful how she touched him. One of her hands gripped at the headboard, fingers white, while the other pressed against his abdomen, where there were fewer scars. Her fingers flexed like she wanted to hold onto him, dig her nails in, pull him closer.

He wanted that too. Eventually.

Last night, when she invited him to stay she told him that trauma does something different to everyone. They'd work through it at his pace. He would decide when, where and how he wanted to be touched by her every step of the way. Take it slow. Then he tackled her into the bed, pinned her hands above her head and showed her how much he appreciated her willingness to wait.

Just like he was doing now.

Thank Andraste Alistair was away with Hawke and some of the others. He would have been awake all night being forced to listen to the two of them. Fenris had no doubt if the neighbors were not awake, they would be once he was done with her. If they had gotten any sleep last night at all.

Hearing Elyria moan his name, ask him not to stop, please, harder, more, oh god… he leaned back on his knees and, with the hand he'd been using to balance with on the bed, yanked the shirt up until her breasts were exposed. As Fenris found out, also last night, he truly enjoyed breasts. Soft, pillowy, moulding to his hands, lips, tongue...teeth.

He tugged one hardened peak with his teeth and she bucked against his hand. The sharp, "oh god, Fenris," that left her lips had him achingly hard. This is what it was like to love someone and derive pleasure from their pleasure. Watching her, one day being inside her - truly inside her not his fingers - it was a thought he could get used to.

One day, perhaps, there might be green eyed children running around.

The tea was cool by the time they got to it, and the biscuits warming by the fire were a bit crispy, but still good with butter and jam. He licked cinnamon and butter off her breasts much to her delight then they fell back into bed. Fenris found he enjoyed hands and lips on that achingly hard part of him. He could bury his fingers in her long hair, throw his head back and groan her name.

Elyria lay curled beside him, the sun now higher in the sky casting shadows in the room. Still careful in the way she touched him, her fingers traced slow, nonsensical patterns on his chest and stomach. "What does Amatus mean?"

Pressing his mouth against hers gently. "When did I say that?"

She blushed faintly, leaning in to kiss him back, her hand sliding lower, "I could remind you if you like." Cool fingers wrapped around him with a quick squeeze and stroke he was half at attention.

Taking her wrist, breathing out hard against her lips. "We need to be at the docks by twelve bells."

She hummed into the next kiss without letting his cock go. "Then you'd better tell me, or we're going to be late."

Damn the meeting, he guided her hand up and down the way he found he liked. His mind fogged with pleasure and he tugged her closer, their mouths and tongues meeting in another desperate kiss. He would never get tired of kissing her. She sighed when he tugged gently on one nipple, her legs parting just for him.

His fingers found her core again and the little bundle at the apex of her thighs that had her slippery wet for him.

They were only just on time for the meeting with Varric and the Captain. And they were very professional about it. Until they reached her flat again. They kept the neighbors up all night again.

Later, he blamed the dreaming (and the subsequent jerking off when he woke the next morning) on reading. Not that he didn't finish the entire book.

Because he did.

Switched from POV to third person.

I know. I know. I'm terrible.