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johaerys-writes · 5 years

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The One She Runs To

OTP: Fenris/Rynne Hawke

Summary: Hawke drives Fenris mad. Her broad smile, her barking laugh, the unmistakeable warmth in her coppery eyes- they follow him wherever he goes. And there really isn't anywhere for him to go when he's on the Lady Luck. So he frowns. And he scowls. And he snaps at her, even when he shouldn't really be snapping at her, hoping that this, at least, might keep her away.

But when she comes into his room in the middle of the night to ask for his help, there's truly nowhere else that he would rather be.

***************

Alright, alright, alright, so I wrote a THING. It’s about Fenris and @pikapeppa’s gorgeous OC Rynne Hawke, because I adore this pair to tiny little pieces, and hers and @schoute ‘s Pirate AU Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me has given me all kinds of warm and fuzzy feels (if you haven’t read it yet, please please do). The idea behind this one shot is inspired by something that has actually happened to me in real life, and it came to me while I slept after reading the latest Chapter or WTWOFTM. I love this fic so damn much my brain evidently just CAN’T SHUT UP ABOUT IT lol. It also features a little bit of @schoute’s incomparable OC Piper Lavellan, because, frankly, no fic set in this wonderful AU would ever be complete without her.

SO, without further ado, please enjoy :)

Read here or on AO3!

*************

Fenris shielded his eyes from the bright sunshine as he walked out onto the Lady Luck’s deck and looked around. Hawke was already waiting for him for their training session. She was leaning over the ship’s railing, gazing at the waves that crashed against its planks. The wind was flowing through her short dark hair, making the chestnut highlights in it catch the light.

“Hawke” he said in greeting as he approached.

A few stray strands flew in front of her face as she turned around, sticking to her lips and tangling in her long eyelashes. She smiled widely, brushing her hair away and tucking it behind her ear. “Fenris!” she exclaimed happily, hopping to his side. “I’m so glad you’re here. I made sure I was on time today.”

Her broad smile made his heart flutter in his ribcage. He frowned, folding his arms across his chest. “So you are. A pleasant change” he replied flatly.

Hawke beamed at him. “I’m so excited for our session today. I’ve been giddy since I opened my eyes this morning.”

“It’s good to get excited, but not that excited. You’ll need to pay attention. Today’s lesson is very important.”

She straightened up, putting on her most serious expression. “Of course! I promise to take this extremely seriously.” Her sombreness lasted only for a moment before she gave him another bright smile and winked at him.

Fenris let out a short huff of amusement and rolled his eyes. He turned his back at her as he walked to the training weapons’ rack and picked up two blunted sparring swords. He handed her one, hilt first, and she took it eagerly.

“Alright” he said, shifting into a sparring stance, legs parted, body facing slightly to the side. “You remember what I taught you yesterday, I hope?”

“Of course!” she replied, mirroring his movements.

“Good” he said, appraising her posture. “Make sure your grip on the hilt is firm, but not too firm. If the edge of the pommel is digging into your wrist, you know you’re clamping down too tightly. And always remember to keep a slight bend in your elbow. You want your hold on your sword to be steady, but flexible. It makes it less likely for your sword to be knocked out of your hand.”

Hawke nodded as she listened to him. Her eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration. “I’m ready.”

With his free hand, Fenris motioned for her to attack him. She lunged forward, the edge of her sword aiming for his shoulder. Fenris dodged her blow easily, stepping sideways. She brought her sword back in to catch him at his side, but he brushed it away with his blade.

With a sharp huff, she lunged again. Another step forward, this time getting close enough for her sword to reach his flank. She slashed at him, but with one quick stroke Fenris knocked the base of her practice sword, causing it to fly right out of her hand. It fell on the wooden planks with a hollow thud.

“I told you to grip it firmly” Fenris told her in a stern voice as she bent to pick it up.

“I did!” she said, her eyes widening in protest. “I gripped it as firmly as I could. I just didn’t expect you to…”

“Didn’t expect me to try to knock your sword out of your grasp? That’s the first thing anyone would do if you were in a fight.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I should have been looking out for it” Hawke said, pouting slightly. She returned to her position, her seriousness once again melting into an eager smile. “Let’s try again.”

Fenris nodded, easing into his battle stance. “Attack.”

This time, Hawke lunged at him straight on bringing her sword up, a fast and precise motion that Fenris did not expect. It was impressive, admittedly. He lifted his own blade to parry hers just as it descended towards his head. The blunted blades rang clearly across the deck as they collided. With a sharp hiss, Fenris’s blade slid forward, its edge stopping only a few inches from her eye.

Hawke blinked at him, then at the sword tip that was hovering ominously before her face. She took a step back, laughing nervously. “That was a close one.”

Fenris flexed his arm and readjusted his grip on his sword. “It was a clever move to attack me from above. But you need to put your back into it, otherwise you’re just setting yourself up for failure. I shouldn’t have been able to stop the force of your blow so easily.”

“Well, I can’t help that you’re so much stronger than me, Fenris” she said teasingly. Her eyes glided over his shoulders and chest before they snapped back up to his face. Her smile faltered only slightly when she met his gaze.

Fenris froze for a heartbeat. Was she just… checking him out? He felt a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could almost see her blood pulsing at the soft point in her neck. He tried not to think of the last time he had touched her neck, when he was showing her the best ways to kill a man. He turned around, hoping that his frown was hiding most of the treacherous heat that was blossoming on his face.

“Most people you fight will be stronger than you, Hawke” he spat. He swung his blade along his side, which made a satisfying hiss as it cut through the air. “You just need to anticipate that in every fight.”

“I know, I know. You’re right, as always, Fenris. Let me try again. I promise I’ll surprise you this time” she said with a mischievous grin as her body melted back into a fighting stance.

He nodded sharply, and Hawke, once again, lunged at him.

As promised, she did surprise him this time. Her blade swung around him in a flurry of quick strikes. Fenris parried each one easily, but still, it was admirable that she had managed to get the hang of using a sword after only a few practice sessions. She had a long way to go though, before she could inject into her movements the precision required to hold her own in a proper fight. Their sparring went on for a surprising amount of time before she fell back, panting.

“That’s fucking hard” she said, leaning forward with her palms on her knees to catch her breath. “I can barely touch you with my sword.”

Fenris tried not to let his gaze linger on the thin sheen of sweat at the dip in her collarbone. “It’s hard because you’re not focusing enough” he said, placing himself back into position.

“I’m doing the best I can” she protested. “I really am!”

Fenris brushed the back of his hand over his forehead. The sun shining overhead was boring down on them mercilessly. He could feel the drops of sweat arcing down his back, and the light coloured shirt he was wearing was clinging to his skin. He turned around and walked back to his starting position, thankful for the wind that blew across the deck.

“Again, Hawke” he said sharply before shifting to his battle stance. “And stop gawking.”

Hawke threw her head back and barked out a laugh. “How can you tell when I do that? You weren’t even looking! I certainly don’t realise when I do it. You do have that effect on me” she said with a wink.

Fenris rolled his eyes, trying to keep his face as stern as possible. He could always tell when Hawke was looking at him. It felt as if her amber gaze could see right through him.

“Attack” he commanded.

She knuckled her forehead and stood at attention. “Yes, sir!” she exclaimed before taking her place. She couldn’t help the gaze that drifted down towards his chest, though.

Fenris motioned at her impatiently, and she lunged at him again, but this time she must have been tired, as Fenris knocked her blade from her hand almost straightaway and lunged forward. His own sword stopped only an inch from the base of her throat.

“See that?” he said. “That is a death blow. You allow your opponent too many openings. You need to…”

His sentence was cut short when he noticed Hawke’s expression. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, her cheeks impossibly flushed. She was panting, the fabric of the light shirt she was wearing stretching over her chest with her every breath. Her eyes slid gently over him, over the tattoos visible on his neck and chest. Her tongue darted out, pink and glistening, to lick her lips.

Her full, luscious lips. They were flushed, just as her face was flushed. The little drops of sweat on her forehead glistened in the midday sun, making her skin look luminous like polished gold. Fenris felt the unbearable urge to sweep in and brush the flat of his tongue over her lips, her perfect, raspberry lips, taste the saltiness of her skin, pull her flush against him-

Fuck, he couldn’t possibly go on like this, lusting after her like a teenager every time they trained. He cleared his throat and took a step back, lowering his sword.

“Our training is over” he said, bending down to pick up the sword from the floor.

Hawke’s gasp was clearly audible. “What? But we’ve only just started! I’ll pay attention this time I promise, I just need a moment to catch my breath-“

“No” Fenris snapped, cutting her short. “Go through the stances that I’ve taught you on your own. I thought you would be ready for sparring, but you’re clearly not.”

The wounded look on her face almost made him wince. He hadn’t intended to be so harsh with her. Her eyes darted about the deck. Several people had stopped to stare at them. Piper was leaning over the railing of the quarter deck, following his every move. Fenris scowled and extended the sword to Hawke.

“I have… work to do. Make sure you know the stances perfectly by tomorrow.”

“Fenris, I…” Hawke started, then stopped. She glanced at the weapon in his hand and nodded slowly before her hand closed over the hilt. The smile she gave him was broad. Broad enough to hide the hurt. “Of course. I’ll do as you say. You know best, after all.”

Fenris turned around and walked away. He thought he heard her sighing as he climbed down the stairs to the inner part of the ship, but it could have been his imagination.

He hadn’t even managed to take a few steps into the relative safety of the ship, when Piper caught up to him. Of course she had watched the whole scene. Not much happened on the ship without Piper’s keen senses picking up on it immediately. Her sharp eyes took in his features, and a half smirk appeared on her scarred face.

Fenris frowned. “Is there something you want to say or are you just here to gawk at me, too?”

Piper’s grin got wider and she leaned casually on one leg. “Look, Fen, you know I want nothing more than having every one of my crew members ready to fight a battalion if need be. But are you sure this was necessary?”

Fenris scowled at her, folding his arms in front of his chest. “What exactly?”

“You know what I’m talking about. The way you snapped at Rynne, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to sod right off. I certainly would have.”

Fenris huffed in annoyance and twisted his mouth. “She’s… she’s not paying enough attention.”

“She’s really trying though, and you know it.” Piper took a step forward, her troublemaker’s grin easing into a soft smile. “Can’t you be more gentle with her? Maybe give her a compliment from time to time? Us girls appreciate that, you know.”

Fenris felt his blush returning in full force. “A compliment?” he spat. “What do you think this is, a beauty pageant? She doesn’t need compliments. She’s had enough compliments in her life. What she needs is…”

He hesitated. What did she need? Certainly not him barking at her at every turn. He felt bad enough about yelling at her without Piper poking at the wound.

He scowled when he realised he had uncrossed his arms and was brushing his knuckle over Hawke’s red handkerchief on his wrist. Piper glanced at it, then shot him a knowing look. Fenris let his hands fall to his sides and straightened back up. “This is how I do things” he said decisively. “You appointed me master-at-arms for a reason. Let me do my job the way I know best.”

Piper took a step back, lifting her hands up placatingly. “Alright, alright. Don’t bite. It was merely a suggestion.” She made as if to leave, before turning back to clap him on the shoulder. “Next time you spar, make sure you point that sword a little lower. That way you’ll be able to tear her clothes off more easily.”

Fenris could only gape at her as she hopped up the steps, her barking laugh bouncing off the walls of the narrow staircase. He let out an annoyed grunt as he turned away.

****

He didn’t see Hawke much for the rest of the day while he worked inside the ship, neatly arranging their recently acquired cargo. Or, he should say, his efforts at avoiding her were successful. But evening came swiftly, and the crew gathered in the ship’s wide galley to have their supper.

Fenris sat in his corner, like he always did. Merrill had prepared a hearty fish stew that was quite nice, with hard ship’s biscuit to accompany it. Most evenings Fenris would have his dinner with Hawke and Piper sitting close nearby, Piper telling her usual outrageous stories and Hawke chiming in with funny comments while they both laughed their hearts out. He never really admitted it to himself, but he had come to look forward to that evening meal every day. It allowed him to spend time with Hawke in the safety that being around other people provided. He could talk without worrying about how he should act in front of her, like he did when they were alone. He could observe the corners of her eyes that creased as she laughed, that tiny, barely noticeable dimple in her cheek, the slight curve of her upper lip, without worrying about her looking at him in return.

But that night, he sat on his own, like he usually did before Hawke joined the crew. Piper was sitting close to Cullen, teasing him and talking with him in low whispers, no doubt telling him one of her more lewd tales, judging by Cullen’s blush. Hawke, on the other hand, was sitting at the far end of the room with Dorian, Anders and Varric. Dorian must have told her something hilarious, as she tossed her head back and howled in laughter. The sound carried through the wide room, as if she were right next to him. It made his heart thrum with longing in his chest.

Anders was sitting close to her, ogling at her. Jealousy bubbled in Fenris’s veins no matter how hard he tried to stamp it out, with the way Anders looked at her, the way he leaned close to whisper something quietly in her ear.

Hawke did nothing to stop his advances, of course. He had noticed long before that she flirted with pretty much everyone. She elbowed Anders affably, and laughed again. Her eyes caught Fenris’s across the room. Her wide smile wavered for a moment, before a slower, warmer one took its place. Her piercing gaze held him fast, before Anders turned around to find what had drawn Hawke’s attention. All of a sudden, it seemed to Fenris like there was not a ship's galley, but a gulf between them.

It was all he could take. He wolfed down the remains of his stew and walked over to the big barrel of sea water they used to clean their bowls. He washed it hastily and walked out of the room in long strides. He simply longed to be alone, in his own room. Away from Hawke’s laughter at jokes that were not his, her warm glances at people that were not… well, him. The very realisation of how sharply and painfully it bothered him irked him to no end.

He walked inside his small room and closed the door behind him. He leaned on it for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he simply stared at the low ceiling of the place he had learned to call home. It was cosy, and tidy, and it felt… safe. It was odd that it suddenly looked so empty to him.

He pulled his shirt over his head with a sigh and tossed on a chair before flopping on the bed. Hawke’s face and the slow smiled that bloomed on it when she caught his gaze lingered in his memory. He brushed it away stubbornly. He was exhausted, and needed rest more than anything. It certainly wasn’t the time for useless daydreams and foolish fancies.

He soon drifted off into a light sleep. Images floated in his mind, warm and fuzzy. He was floating in space, colours warping and shifting around him, soft and indistinct. It was nice and comfortable there. He let himself relax even more, hovering in that endless sea of warmth and colour. And in that shifting, formless sea, he found her. Hawke.

She was smiling, like she always was. Her clever eyes glided over him, sparkling like diamonds in the dark. Her cheeks were flushed, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, making them gleam in the eerie light that surrounded them. He paused for a moment, even in his dream, wondering if he had ever beheld anyone so beautiful.

He drifted towards her, reaching out to her. His arm found its way around her back, pulling her close. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her pillowy bottom lip, caressing the line of her jaw, the curve of her chin. She closed her eyes and leaned in to his touch.

“Oh, Fenris” she whispered, and the sound sent shivers of honey-slicked lightning down his spine. She brought her hand up and caressed his arm. In his dream, he didn’t recoil from her touch. In his dream, it felt natural. No, it felt more than natural; it felt good. So fucking good. He leaned closer, helplessly drawn to her slightly parted lips, like a moth drawn to a quivering flame.

When she shook his arm, he stopped short. He pulled back, gazing at her curiously. She looked back at him with wide eyes, and shook his arm again.

One of his eyebrows shot up in question. “Hawke, what…”

She shook him again, more urgently this time. “Wake up” she said.

Fenris’s eyes snapped open, gazing into darkness. It took him a split second to realise that a hand was actually touching his arm. He jolted bolt upright, searching for his dagger in the dark.

“Fenris, it’s me” he heard Hawke saying.

He froze. With fumbling fingers, he stroke a match and lit the oil lamp that he kept close to his bed. A wide-eyed Hawke, her hair still mussed up from sleep was staring at him.

He returned her startled look, his erratic pulse still pounding in his ears from the shock of his violent awakening. It was only when her eyes drifted downwards, and widened even more, that he remembered that he was half naked.

He grunted in annoyance and stood up, grabbing his shirt from his chair and pulling it hastily over his head. “What is the meaning of this, Hawke?” he growled, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Hawke gasped, and let her eyes fall to the ground. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in on you while you slept and scare you half to death. I’m really very sorry” she said again. But when her gaze drifted back up to his chest, where the laces of his shirt where still undone, he knew that she wasn’t, really.

Fenris scowled as he fixed the shirt about his shoulders and crossed his arms in front of him. “I expect you have a good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“I do, in fact” she said. “At least I think so.” She bit her lip, looking up at him apologetically. The pearl white bite of her teeth over the perfect raspberry of her lips drove a piercing shot of longing through him. He stomped it down tenaciously, his scowl getting ever deeper.

“Well?” he urged her impatiently. “What is it?”

“I… Well, I… Oh, I don’t know how to say this without sounding incredibly daft.” She wrung her hands and looked away. “I think that… something may have bitten me while I slept.”

Fenris frowned at her. Either he was still hazy from sleep, or Hawke was really not making any sense. “What bit you?”

She gazed back at him. He could see now the paleness on her face and the concern in her eyes. “I don’t know what it was! I just felt a sharp sting and woke up. It might have been a spider or a scorpion or… Oh, I don’t know!” She hid her face in her hands.

Worry and affection mingled and ached in Fenris’s chest. “There are no scorpions on the ship, Hawke. Or spiders” he said gently, letting his arms fall to his sides. “At least not the kind that bite.”

She lifted her face from her hands. There was a flicker of hope in her eyes, but it was soon overcome by her distress. “I know it sounds silly. But something bit me. I’m sure of it. I’m just…. Fuck, Fenris, I’m crawling out of my skin just now. Can you have a look at it? Please?”

Fenris almost took a step back, startled. “I’m no healer, Hawke. Why didn’t you go to Anders, or Piper at the very least? She has a chest with healing balms in her quarters.”

She swallowed nervously as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I… thought about it. But Piper sleeps with Cullen most nights. What if I walked in, and found them in a… compromising position, or…” She shook her head. “Let’s just say I didn’t want to intrude. And Anders sleeps like a log. I didn’t want to rouse the whole crew while trying to wake him.”

“So you came to me because I wake up more easily?”

She gave him an uneasy smile. “You’re a light sleeper, and quick on your feet. I know that much about you, at least.”

Fenris let out a short huff. “Fine. Let me see it so we can both get this over with.”

A wide smile of relief crossed her face. Fenris sat at the edge of the bed, and motioned for her to sit next to him.

“Where were you bit?”

“Here, let me show you” she said, shifting around so her back was to him. She lifted her shirt a little and lowered the waistband of her light cotton breeches just slightly.

“That’s where I felt it. On my lower back.”

Fenris swallowed thickly as he examined her exposed skin. It was smooth and golden hued, and a part of her he had never seen before. This entire situation was… so intimate that he felt the familiar blush creeping up his cheeks again.

He took a deep breath, determined not to look any longer. “I can’t see anything.”

“There’s a bump on my skin. I can feel it. Here, let me show you.”

Fenris bristled when she took his hand, but all words were robbed from him when she placed it gently on her, guiding his fingers.

“There” she said. “Can you feel it?”

He didn’t speak as he lightly brushed the part she indicated. There was a tiny, noticeable bump, just as she had said, but he barely paid that any mind. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and… fasta vass, it felt like velvet under his fingertips. It was even better than he had imagined in his dream. Flashes of it came unbidden in his mind, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. Smoothing his palm over the curves of her back, her smiling coyly up at him. Running his thumb over her soft, pliant lips, plucking the bubbling laughter from her mouth with his own. Pulling her against him as he leaned in for…

The urge to let his fingers close over the curve of her waist and pull her close to him was nigh on unbearable. With significant effort, he let his hand fall. He cleared his throat, putting some safe distance between them. “The good news is that this is no spider bite. The bad news is that there are most likely fleas in your bed.”

Hawke spun around to stare at him. Her eyes were wide with shock. “What?”

Fenris let out a short, amused huff. “Fleas have a way of finding themselves in places where lots of people live together in close quarters. Annoying, but relatively harmless. That being said” he added, noticing her bewildered stare, “you should wash your bedding in hot water and take your mattress out on the deck tomorrow to air it under the sun. That should take care of them.”

Hawke scrunched her nose at that, but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Thank you, Fenris.”

“You’re welcome, Hawke.”

She shot him a warm smile as she pushed the hem of her shirt back under the waistband of her breeches. “You know” she said, looking away, “I lied to you before.”

Fenris frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Piper wasn’t the first person I thought of going to. Or Anders.” She lifted her gaze up to his face. “It was you.”

Fenris peered back at her, his frown deepening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hawke went on. “It’s silly, I know. You were so angry with me this afternoon, for not following your instructions correctly. The way you frowned at me… not that it doesn’t make you look incredibly attractive, don’t get me wrong” she said, winking at him and earning a deeper scowl from him, “but still. I didn’t want to trouble you any more than I had today. Yet when I felt that sting as I slept, I was terrified. I couldn’t think of what to do for the life of me. And then I thought of you.” She paused for a moment, then let out a soft, quiet chuckle. “Even when you’re mad at me, you’re still the one I run to, it seems.”

Her eyes fixed themselves on him, with an intensity that stole the air from his lungs. He gaped at her for a long moment, lost for words. His throat had suddenly gone dry as parchment. He should probably say something, he realised, or the silence that stretched between them would swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you today” he said, running his hand through his hair. “It was uncalled for. You’re trying your best, and I’m…”

“No, no, it’s alright” she said cheerfully, waving her hand in a soothing gesture. “You were right to. I was indeed distracted. But I practiced for hours after you left. Hopefully I’ll do better during tomorrow’s session. I really want to show you what I’ve learned.”

He gazed at her, then, in the silence of his small cabin. For a heartbeat, she felt as naturally a part of his space as he did. The side of her face was painted amber by the dancing lamp light, her whiskey-coloured eyes glowed like embers in the half dark. Her lips were curled in a smile, one of those slow, tender ones, that seemed to be meant just for him. At that moment, he was certain. She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“I look forward to it, Hawke” he said softly, returning her smile with one of his own.

#fenris x hawke #fenris/hawke #femhawke #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #piper lavellan #fenrynne #pikapeppa #schoute #johaerys writes

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pikapeppa · 3 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke: Imagine

In which Fenris and Rynne Hawke laze around naked in bed on a rainy day because I LOVE THEM. It’s been almost a year since I wrote them and they deserve no less. 😭❤❤ Dedicated to @varric-tethras-editor, who sent me the perfect song rec and thus made this oneshot possible. ILU BABE. ❤❤❤

~5300 words. NSFW. Read here on AO3 instead.

*********************************

Fenris sighed and gazed languidly at the velvet canopy overhead. He was lying naked in Hawke’s bed, his body half-covered with her rumpled blankets and half-covered by a sleeping and equally naked Hawke, and he was incredibly content.

Hawke shifted slightly in her sleep, sliding her thigh over his to sandwich his leg between her own, and he smiled to himself as he trailed his fingers over her shoulder. Her room was quiet but for the drumming of rain against the window, and aside from the thin sliver of hazy rain-dimmed light peeking through the curtains, the room’s only source of light was the oil lamp on her bedside table. As Fenris enjoyed the sound of the rain and the cozy glow of Hawke’s bedroom and the heat of her bare skin, he mused idly about the fact that this bed was the finest place in all of Thedas, and perhaps he and Hawke should seriously consider never leaving this bed again.

“Fenris?” she said.

He hadn’t realized she was awake. “Hm?” he murmured.

“Did you imagine that this would happen?” she asked.

He smirked. “When you began removing your clothes in the kitchen, I had a pretty good notion that we would end up here.”

She lifted her head from his chest and gave him a lascivious grin. “Ooh, that’s a saucy response. Trying to seduce me again, are you?”

Her pixie-short hair was a charmingly tufty mess, and Fenris smiled fondly at her as he replied. “I get the impression I wouldn’t have to try very hard if I was.”

She laughed. “Excuse you! Are you calling me easy?”

“Would you really rather play hard to get?” he drawled.

She broke into laughter, then rolled on top of him. “Look at you, being such a smooth talker,” she teased. “You’re in quite the mood tonight.”

“Look outside, Hawke,” he said dryly. “It’s not nearly evening yet.”

“I don’t want to look outside,” she said. “I’m busy looking at something far nicer.”

She was looking at him, of course. He gave her a chiding smile. “You flatter me.”

“Every chance I get,” she purred.

He chuckled, and her smile widened. “What, no clever response? Does this mean I won?”

“I wasn’t aware that this was a competition,” he said.

She tutted. “Of course it’s a competition! It’s a battle of wits.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “It is not.”

“It absolutely is!” she said. “And you started it with your whole, ‘when you began removing your clothes in the kitchen…’” She dropped her voice to an exaggeratedly low and growly tone of voice, and Fenris smirked at the terrible imitation.

“That wasn’t a witty remark,” he said. “It was the truth.”

She scoffed. “Please. You said it as though I’ve never taken my clothes off in the kitchen before.”

“That is my point,” he said. “Every time you take your clothes off in the kitchen, your meaning is pretty clear.”

“That’s not true!” she protested. “Sometimes I take off my clothes in the kitchen if it’s hot. Or if… um…”

He raised one eyebrow expectantly, and she waved him off. “Anyway, that’s hardly relevant. What’s relevant is that this is a battle of wits, and I won.”

“It is not,” he replied. “And you did not.”

She pointed at him. “Ah-ha! Which is it, then? Is it not a battle of wits, or is it a battle of wits and I didn’t win?”

He blinked at her, then frowned. “It’s… you’re being difficult on purpose.”

She let out a husky little laugh. “Trying to avoid the question, are you? Nice try, serrah. I think you just don’t like losing.”

“Have you not witnessed me playing wicked grace with Varric?” he said flatly. “I’m no stranger to losing.”

“Which is why you don’t want to lose now,” she replied. She playfully poked his abs. “Come on, Fenris, keep trading insults with me.”

He grabbed her poking finger and gave her a chiding look. “We weren’t trading insults. We were trading witticisms.”

“So you admit that it was a battle of wits!” she crowed.

He gave her an exasperated look, then abruptly rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs, and she broke into laughter.

He smiled at her, helpless in the face of her brilliant mirth, and when she settled, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Don’t vilify me by suggesting I would trade insults with you,” he said quietly. “You’ll hear no insults from me.”

“I won’t?” she said, still smiling her signature cheeky smile. “What will I hear instead?”

He huffed. She was utterly irrepressible, even when she was trapped beneath him. He skimmed his lips over her cheek, then placed a small kiss at the delicate spot where her jawline met her smooth neck.

Her back arched slightly, and Fenris smiled to himself before brushing his lips over her ear. “The only words you’ll be hearing tonight are words of praise,” he murmured.

A soft sigh left her lips — a sigh so soft that he felt it against his cheek more than he heard it. When she spoke, it was in a husky tone that seemed to pulse between his legs.

“Look outside, Fenris,” she breathed. “It’s not nearly evening yet.”

He scoffed. Even now, when the heat and lust between them was swelling like the rising of the tide, she was taunting him.

“Shut up, Hawke,” he whispered, and he kissed her.

His kiss was firm, his lips sealing over hers and coaxing them apart so his tongue could stroke the heated length of hers. He kissed her carefully and thoroughly, savouring the softness of her lips contrasted with the firm stroke of her tongue tangling with his.

Hawke made a soft little noise, a contented little whimpery-sigh, and Fenris revelled in the sound and the feeling of her feet sliding over his calves. He lifted his chest slightly to twine his fingers with hers, then pressed her hands firmly into the mattress and pressed himself into the cradle of her hips. His cock wasn’t at full mast quite yet — no great surprise, considering that this was their third bout of the day. But still, despite his semi-hard state, she broke the kiss with a breathy little gasp when his cock nestled against her feminine folds — ah, her slick folds, still slippery from their earlier tryst…

He exhaled against her cheek, then kissed her more firmly than before. She was so soft and plush against his hardness, so slick and warm and perfect, and… damn it, he wasn’t ready yet. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still enjoy her, and in a way that he knew without a doubt that she would enjoy as well.

He released her wrists and sat back on his heels, shoving the sheets and blankets aside as he did, and Rynne sat up on her elbows. “What — where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he said. “I’m not such a fool as to leave you here like this. Lie back.” He shifted down on the bed, then pushed her thighs apart.

She gasped and twisted her hips, lifting them from the bed, and Fenris gazed hungrily at her sex. She was slick and swollen, her folds flushed a mouth-watering rosy red and her clit a delicate little bud that was just begging to be touched, and Fenris swallowed hard before pressing his lips to the inner margin of her thigh.

Venhedis, she smelled heavenly. He inhaled slowly and kissed her thigh again, a small open-mouthed kiss to taste the slippery nectar on her skin, and she reached down and gently pulled his hair. “Fenris, wait,” she whimpered. “Wait, wait…”

He looked up in surprise. It wasn’t like her to stop him when he was about to go down on her. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

“No no, nothing’s wrong, nothing at all,” she panted. “I just — are you sure you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked in bemusement.

“Because you already…” She winced slightly. “I mean, you already left your joy juice down below.”

He stared at her for a second, then wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Joy juice?”

A grin broke across her lust-flushed face. “Not a fan of that term?”

“Absolutely not,” he said flatly. “Are you trying to put me off?”

She barked out a laugh. “No, no! I just— I mean, you already came inside me earlier. Are you sure you want to go down when you’re just going to taste your own, you know, stuff?”

“‘Stuff?’” he said in disbelief.

She laughed again, more heartily than before. “Stop making fun of me!”

“Then stop being ridiculous,” he replied.

“That’s not possible, I’m afraid,” she said loftily. “Ridiculous is my middle name. Rynne ‘Ridiculous’ Hawke, that’s what they—”

He dipped his head down and licked her, and she gasped and bucked her hips. “Fuck!”

She was right; he could taste the slightly-bitter flavour of his own semen from earlier that afternoon. But underneath his own taste was hers, the sweet and salty musk of her, of Hawke, the exquisite flavour of her pleasure and her desire, and Fenris wasn’t bothered by his own taste when Hawke’s private flavour was so enticing.

He licked her again, a slow and careful caress of his tongue that ended with a gentle teasing flick of her clit, and she fisted her hands in the sheets. “Fenris…”

He grumbled softly in response as he licked her again, and she moaned and lifted her hips toward his mouth. He happily met her body’s wordless request, smoothing two fingers lovingly over her folds before placing another wet-opened mouthed kiss between her legs, and she burst out another musical moan.

“Mm,” she whimpered. “Mm, please…” She was rolling her hips, one hand fisted in the sheets as her other hand rested on his hair, and as he smoothed his tongue between her lower lips and kissed her clit, he marvelled at the fact that she wanted him this much. He’d done this once today already and fucked her twice, and still she was this eager for him? It was… truly, it was flattering — flattering and comforting. To be so desired by Hawke, to be so reassured that his desire for her was wholeheartedly returned: it was still something of a novelty, even with two months’ worth of togetherness between them, and he could feel a pleasant sort of ache swelling in his chest as he tasted her sex.

He lapped tenderly at her pussy, then kissed her tender clit before circling his tongue around the tiny bud in a way that he knew she especially liked. She mewled loudly and bucked her hips, and Fenris felt a warm sort of pride at knowing her well enough that he knew how to make her react in such an enthusiastic way.

“Yes,” she gasped, and her fingertips pressed into his scalp. “Fenris, please, please...”

He grumbled his assent, stroking her inner thighs and tracing her clit with his tongue, and she whimpered more loudly and flexed her hips. “Maker’s balls, ah, Fenris—”

He brushed his lower lip over her clit, and she shuddered and gasped. “Yes! Yes, fuck, I—”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know what you want, Hawke. Just relax.”

She burst out a breathy laugh and stroked his hair. “You’re licking me like this, and you want me to relax? How am I—”

He slid one finger inside of her and curled his finger, and she arched her spine and cried out. “Fuck yes!”

He pulled his finger free, then began kissing and caressing her clit with his lower lip in a slightly faster rhythm. Hawke mewled and gripped the sheets and tugged his hair, making her rising pleasure known with her voice and her body and her slickness that was painting his chin and the bed beneath her bottom, and Fenris felt his pulse thrumming and rising in time with the rising of her pleasure: her pleasure, the pleasure that was heralded by her taste on his tongue and her beautiful whimpery cries and the tense yet graceful grinding of her hips as she met his lips and tongue…

She dragged in a gasp, then scraped her nails over her chest and released a strained cry of rapture. Fenris reached up and grabbed her hand to stop her from marring her golden skin with her nails, all without slowing the careful rhythm of his mouth moving between her legs, and he didn’t stop until Hawke’s hips settled back onto the bed.

She released a long and breathy moan and ran her fingers through his hair, and he wiped his mouth on her inner thigh before lifting his head to look at her.

Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted. Her expression was a perfect picture of pleasure and languid lust, and Fenris admired her as he spoke. “It sounds like you enjoyed that.”

She opened her eyes, then propped herself on one elbow and give him a sly smile. “Are you preening, Fenris?”

“I don’t preen,” he said with dignity, but she was right; he was preening. Could he really be blamed for preening, though, when his humble tongue and lips had drawn such a symphony of pleasured sounds from Hawke’s throat?

She laughed, then shifted onto her knees and crooked her finger at him. “Come here, handsome. Give me a kiss.”

He smirked and shifted onto his knees so he was facing her, then placed his hands on her hips and leaned in for a kiss. But before he could meet her raspberry-red lips, she wrapped her fingers around his cock.

A rush of surprise and pleasure pulsed between his legs. He gasped, and Hawke kissed his parted lips, slanting her mouth over his and probing her slick tongue into his mouth as she stroked his steel-hard cock, and he gripped her hips and mindlessly fell into her kiss as her silk-soft palm stoked the simmer of want in his abdomen into a full-blown fiery lust.

He groaned into her mouth and pulled her closer, gripping her ass to try and lift her onto his lap, but she suddenly released him and pushed at his chest. “Lie back,” she said huskily. “I want to suck your cock.”

Her blunt words were like fuel for his lust, sending a pulse of eager heat through his limbs, and he obediently shifted onto his back as Hawke settled herself on her knees beside him. Before he was even fully settled, she stroking his cock and his thigh and leaning over him and tracing his length with her tongue and oh, oh yes, his — she — venhedis please, the hot slickness of her mouth…

He fell back on the pillows and lifted his hips toward her mouth, enjoying the pressure and pull of her lips and mouth as they moved smoothly up and down his shaft. For a long, mindless, perfect moment, he just savoured the feeling of her mouth between his legs, but when she lifted her mouth to stroke his cock with her hand instead, he dimly realized why she might feel that she had to use her hand instead of her mouth.

He breathed slowly to gather the wits to speak. “Hawke,” he groaned. “I’m… sorry, it may… it may take some time.”

“Some—? Oh, because you already came twice today?” she said.

He huffed a breathless laugh. “Are you preening?”

“Me?” she said innocently. “I never preen. Not even when I make you come so hard that you start cursing in Tevene.”

He scoffed at the reminder of this morning’s tryst, then jerked his hips and moaned when she circled her palm over the sensitive head of his cock. “F-fasta vass...”

“Ooh, was that more Tevene cursing I heard?” she said.

He tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan. “Quit preening,” he complained breathlessly, and he lifted his hips.

She grinned slowly at him and resumed her stroking his cock. “I like when you use that bossy tone. Don’t worry, take your time to finish. I’m a patient woman.”

“You are not,” he groaned. “You’re notorious for your lack of patience.”

“Oh, Fenris,” she purred. “When it comes to having this gorgeous cock of yours in my mouth, I’ve got all sorts of patience.” She dipped her head down and took his cock into her mouth once more.

Fenris gasped and bucked his hips instinctively, driving his cock further into her throat, but his bucking didn’t seem to bother Hawke; she angled her head and continued to suckle him thoroughly and deeply, moving her lips up and down his shaft and taking him so deep into her throat that he could feel her throat as an embrace from the root of his cock to the tip, and Fenris stared adoringly at her as she sucked him. Her commitment to her task was obvious, like she was trying to put every diligent scrap of attention into bringing him to his slow but inevitable climax, and he eventually curled his arm behind his head so as to watch her more comfortably as she sucked his cock.

Then she turned her head slightly and met his eye.

He stopped breathing. Her eyes, her honey-golden eyes, the way they were lit by the oil lamps and by the inner fire of her own passionate soul: her eyes were knowing and sly and tender all at once, and Fenris stared breathlessly at her, snared by the lust and love in her face as she continued to suckle his cock. He was snared by the way she was looking at him, the way she was suckling him and the way she was making his breath come in harsh gasping grunts—

She suddenly released his cock and sat back on her heels, and he burst out a moan at the sudden abandonment. “Hawke,” he begged.

“Sorry,” she blurted. “I’m sorry, I just — I can’t—”

“Don’t — i-it’s all right,” he panted, even though his cock was throbbing relentlessly for release. He squeezed her thigh with a trembling hand. “Is your jaw hurting?”

“No,” she said. “No, it’s not — I just…” She broke off and straddled his hips, then rubbed herself against the length of his cock.

He burst out a guttural groan and grabbed her hips. “Hawke, please…”

She planted her palms on his pecs and rubbed her slick hot cleft along his length again. “I’m sorry,” she panted. “I m-meant to finish you in my mouth but I — fuck, Fenris, just look at you.” She smoothed her palms over his chest.

“I’d rather look at you,” he said breathlessly. “You — Hawke, you’re — ah...” He broke off with a moan as she stroked his cock with her pussy, then placed one hand over hers and gripped it.

Her gaze rose from his chest to his face, and he squeezed her hand again. “The sight of you surpasses my wildest imaginings,” he told her seriously. “Seeing you here, feeling you like this: no amount of fantasies could compare with this reality. The reality of you.”

Her heated expression softened and curled into a smile — a smile that was distinctly tender with affection. “You’re such a smooth talker,” she said, and she lifted her hips and traced her fingers over his cock.

He inhaled shakily, and Hawke bent forward and kissed him. A second later, he was inside of her.

He moaned in bliss, and Hawke captured the sound with his tongue. Her hands were cradling his neck, her hips rolling against his in a smooth rhythm that felt like he was feeling every slick inch of her intimate heat, and he drew his fingertips from her shoulder blades down along her back before settling his palms firmly on her buttocks.

He gently squeezed her bottom, then pulled her more firmly onto his cock, and she broke the kiss with a gasp. “Mm,” she whimpered. “Oh Maker…”

Goaded by her pleasure, he pulled her against his hips again and pumped himself more firmly into her, and she released his neck to plant one hand on the bed beside his head. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Fuck, Fenris, that’s…”

“Is it good?” he panted.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, you’re so — so fucking deep, ah!” She cried out again and clenched both fists in the the sheets, and Fenris thrust into her more firmly.

She let out a mewling cry and squeezed her eyes shut, her beautiful face twisting with a combination of pleasure and need, and Fenris admired her as he gripped her ass and thrust into her. When a broken little sob burst from her throat, he lifted one hand and squeezed her arm. “Hawke,” he gritted out.

“Mhm?” she moaned.

“Take what you need from me,” Fenris gasped. “Fuck me as you need to. I am yours.”

Her eyes opened, and the scorching need in her face stalled his breath for a moment. Then she planted her palms on his pecs once more and began fucking him hard.

He gasped, then groaned, then stop paying attention entirely to his own breath, too preoccupied by her heat and her tightness and how incredible she felt as she rocked against him in a furious rhythm of need. Her fingers were digging into his chest and he could feel sweat collecting at the meeting point of their thighs, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care — he couldn’t care, not when Hawke felt so good, fucking him hard and fast and making him feel like he was striking the deepest part of her. Her face was contorted with pleasure and an exquisite sort of longing that he felt deep inside his chest, like a fist of longing and love wrapping around his heart, and it was like his entire body was filling up, swelling with Hawke’s love and her need and the pleasure he took from her as she fucked him swiftly, so swiftly: fasta vass, the swiftness, the rush, the rise of it, the rising of her, please, Hawke please, please...

She sobbed again and shuddered, and Fenris moaned helplessly as the pressure and heat of her became almost overwhelmingly good. “Rynne,” he begged. “P-please…”

She stroked his cheek. “Anything,” she whimpered. “Anything you want, Fenris, it’s yours, anything—”

“More,” he groaned. “More of this, more…”

She lifted herself and came down hard on his cock, and a sharp cry burst from his throat. “More!”

She began fucking him hard again, hard swift thrusts as she rose and fell on his supine body, and he stared at her as she rode him wantonly, barely breathing, heart pounding in his ears and throat. Heat was rising in his cheeks and swelling in his chest, ratcheting higher and closer in the depths of his abdomen and between his legs — heat, pleasure, ecstasy, Hawke...

His orgasm struck in a stunning rush, pleasure bursting through his abdomen and his limbs and forcing his spine into an arch as he groaned and shuddered and mindlessly gripped her thighs. When Hawke cupped his face and kissed him, he gave himself over to her completely, parting his lips and welcoming her hot ferocious tongue and her fierce but gentle teeth as she nipped his lower lip.

She gently sucked his lower lip, and he moaned and shuddered before wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. He held her close as the ripples of pleasure spanned his limbs, savouring the sticky heat of her skin and the slick heat of her tongue stroking his, and only when his climax had completely ebbed away did he loosen his embrace.

Hawke gentled the kiss equally slowly, lapping lightly at his lips instead of delving deep with her tongue, and by the time she lifted her lips from his, he was languorous with bliss.

He smiled faintly without opening his eyes, and she chuckled and gently pinched his chin. “Look at this smug little smile,” she teased, and she lifted herself off of his cock with a groan.

He opened his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said, but she was grimacing as she settled herself beside him in bed.

Concerned, he rolled toward her and cradled her neck in his palm. “Hawke, if you’re hurt—”

“I’m not hurt,” she assured him. “I just — it’s my thighs. I fucked you too hard.”

He burst out a little laugh. “Excuse me?”

She grinned and settled on her side facing him. “I fucked you too hard. My thighs are going to be in a whole world of pain tomorrow.”

“Ah. I understand,” he said, and he smoothed his palm over her hip. “That’s a decent cause for pain. I retract my pity.”

She laughed and poked his chest. “Well, that’s rude. See if I ever fuck you that hard again.”

He gave her a knowing look, and she laughed again. “I know, I know. I’m full of shit. Actually, one could argue that if I fuck you hard like that every day, it’ll be excellent exercise for my thighs!”

“Excellent reasoning indeed,” he drawled. “And I suppose I’m just a prop for this exercise of yours?”

She grinned and propped her cheek on her fist. “You can try and resist me, if you like.”

He eyed her in amusement. Her expression was somehow both innocent and cheeky at once. “I can try?” he said dryly.

“Yes, you can try,” she said cheerfully. “But you won’t succeed. I’m irresistible, in case you didn’t notice.”

He scoffed and pinched her waist. She squeaked and flinched, and Fenris pinched her again, then began tickling her mercilessly.

She burst into laughter, then rolled onto her back and pulled her knees up to her chest to guard herself. “Stop, stop!” she gasped. “I give in! I’m done teasing you, I promise!”

“Good,” he growled. “Now I can get some rest.” He rolled onto his back, then drew her close until she was curled up against his chest.

She sighed happily and settled her ear on his chest, and he smiled and closed his eyes. Then he remembered the conversation that had precipitated all of this — the conversation that they hadn’t finished.

“Hawke, what did you mean before?” he asked.

“When?” she mumbled.

“Before, when you asked if I could imagine something.”

She lifted her head. “Oh yes! When you began teasing me, you mean?”

He smiled faintly, but didn’t rise to her playful bait this time. “Yes, that. I wasn’t sure what you meant.”

Her cheeky smile softened, and she propped her cheek on her fist once more. “I was just wondering if… you know, if…” She shrugged and dropped his gaze, and he eyed her curiously. It was unlike her to be this hesitant.

“What is it?” he said gently.

She glanced at him again, and her expression was endearingly coy. “Did you ever really think we’d be… you know, like this?” she asked.

“Like this in what way?” Fenris asked.

“This comfortable so quickly,” she said. She trailed her fingers along his naked chest. “It just feels easy being together. Like we’re on the same page. It’s very cozy.” She lifted her eyes from his chest to his face, and his heart squeezed at the candid affection in her eyes. “Did you ever think it would be this easy to be together after how long it took us to get our shit together?”

He sobered a little bit at this. “You don’t need to take any responsibility for the time we wasted being apart. That was my doing.”

She tsked. “Oh come on, you handsome fool, it wasn’t your fault. It’s just the way it needed to be. And besides, we’re here now!” She sighed happily and traced her fingers over his bare skin. “Here we are, and everything’s great. We’re all naked in my bed and covered in your joy juice—”

He grunted in disgust and pinched her bum, and she giggled and tapped his chest. “I mean it, Fenris. Did you ever imagine it would be this easy?”

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I… when I imagined this — imagined us together, that is, I… the things I imagined were…” He frowned as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I didn’t really think about how it would be,” he finally said. “I just wanted it. I wanted you. For years, it has felt like I was running toward you — running toward the idea of you, of… of us being together.”

To his surprise, her smile faded a bit, leaving a look of vulnerability on her face. “And now that we’re together, do you…” She dropped his gaze again. “Does it feel like something’s over now that you caught me?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not at all. It is the opposite of that.” He rose onto his elbows to look her straight in the eye. “Things are possible now that I could never have imagined without you. My imaginings were nothing compared to this, and now I cannot imagine a life without you by my side.”

Her face lit up in a smile — a brilliant, joyful smile that made his heart feel like it was filling with hot water. She gently pinched his chin. “Good,” she said softly. “I feel the same way.”

I know, he thought tenderly. He didn’t need Hawke to tell him that she felt the same way, because he had known it for years. She had shown him her feelings for years, supporting him and cheering him up and waiting for him while he sorted through the emotional quagmire of his past. She had shown him countless times how she felt about him, and he didn’t need her to tell him for him to know it was true.

He slid his palm around the nape of her neck and drew her in for a kiss. She was smiling even as she kissed him, and he couldn’t help but smile as well.

When Hawke started to laugh against his lips, however, Fenris was forced to pull away. “What is it?” he said in exasperation. “Why are you laughing now?”

“No reason,” she said. She arranged her face into a feeble veneer of innocence. “I was just thinking we could get a bath.”

“A bath? Now?” he said in surprise. She usually enjoyed lingering in bed with him for as long as possible.

She nodded. “I thought maybe you’d want to wash off some of your joy juice.”

He twisted his lips in distaste, and she laughed and patted his cheek. “I love your face when you squinch it up like this,” she giggled.

He scoffed and pulled her hand away. “I’m only making this face because you keep saying that… vile-sounding phrase.”

“What phrase? Joy juice?” she said. Her lips were curling in a shit-eating grin, and Fenris gazed at her with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Stop saying that,” he said sternly.

“Joy juice,” Hawke said promptly. “Joy juice, joy juice, joy—”

Fenris pounced on her and pinned her to the bed, and she burst into laughter. Her barking laughter was loud and uninhibited and joyful, a ring of mirth more clear and crystalline than a Chantry bell, and he felt like her mirth was echoing in his chest and resonating in time with the beat of his heart.

He grinned at her, then lowered himself over her and kissed her again. She was warm and pliant and fragrant with sandalwood and sex, and as Fenris sank into the loving embrace of her open arms, he savoured just how wonderful she was, and how real.

Hawke was better than his fondest fantasies, because she was real. She was real, with her stupid jokes and her bravado-masked melancholy and her gentle mage’s hands. Her lips were real, her legs around his waist and her hands on his neck and her fingers in his hair, and he didn’t need fondly detailed imaginings when his reality was so incredibly dear.

With Hawke in his arms and his heart, Fenris didn’t need any sort of imaginings at all.

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