#i am back on my meredith/orsino bullshit unfortunately

[wheretheresawyll]

"First Enchanter Orsino. You survive." "Your relief overwhelms me, Commander."

Jessica Lange as Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard Colm Feore as First Enchanter Orsino

[pikapeppa]

(Talesfromthefade) “Your hair is really soft.” for the pairing of your choice?

Thank you for this @dadrunkwriting prompt! Predictably, I’m writing it for Fenris x Rynne Hawke. Here, have some gross fluffy cuddly smut. Forgive me. 

Read on AO3 instead. 

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Fenris released a long sigh against Hawke’s bare chest. “Don’t stop,” he groaned.

She chuckled and pressed her lips to the top of his head. “You like this, do you?”

He grumbled incoherently in response. Her fingers were carding through his hair, combing and smoothing the strands, and the way she was pressing her fingertips against his scalp…

Fasta vass, it felt good. Fenris used to tease Hawke about wanting her back scratched like a mabari, but in this moment, he was feeling an undeniable sense of kinship with the hound that was lounging lazily beside the bed.

He tightened his arm around Hawke’s waist and rubbed his cheek against her sternum, and she laughed lightly into his hair. She curled her fingers around the back of his neck, and he felt the heat of her breath against the crown of his head.

“Your hair is really soft,” she said. “Such soft hair for such a tough warrior. Tell me your beauty secret.”

Fenris happily inhaled her sandalwood-scented skin. “There is no secret,” he mumbled. “I wash it. That’s all.”

“Oh Fenris, that’s bullshit,” Hawke said playfully. She idly twisted a strand of his hair around her fingers. “I wash my hair every day and it’s not nearly as silky as yours.”

“Perhaps that is your problem,” he replied.

“What, washing my hair daily?” she said in surprise.

“Yes,” he said. He dipped his face low and nuzzled her breast. “I wash my hair sparingly. Only when it’s particularly filthy. Some days I only rinse it.”

Her fingers went still in his hair. “Really? How have I never noticed that?”

“When we bathe, your eyes are usually elsewhere,” he drawled.

Hawke released a sultry little laugh. “That is a very good point. All right, handsome, you win this round.” She slung her leg over his hip to pull him closer, tangling her feet with his calves as she carefully ran her hand through his hair again.

The feeling of her fingers in his hair… It was so damned good. He sighed against her skin. “I was not aware that we were competing,” he mumbled. “But I will happily accept the win.” He idly brushed her nipple with his lips, enjoying the way the dusky little peak pearled against his mouth.  

She hummed happily into his hair, and Fenris closed his eyes. The sun was peeking through the cracks in the curtains, and he knew that he and Hawke would soon have to rise, but surely another minute in bed wouldn’t hurt.

Soon his mind was drifting, floating in that mercurial space between alert and asleep. Then Hawke’s foot suddenly jerked.

His eyes snapped open. She inhaled sharply, then released a sleepy little moan, and Fenris leaned away slightly to look at her. “Is everything all right?”

“Mmm. Everything is perfect,” she murmured. “Just look where I am.” She wiggled slightly in his arms.

He shot her a fond little half-smile, then reluctantly began to release her waist. “Unfortunate, then, that we should rise-”

“No,” Hawke said plaintively. She tightened her arm around his shoulders. “I don’t want to. This is the best part.”

He stopped in his half-hearted attempts to leave the bed. “The best part of what?” he asked.

“Of the whole day, obviously,” she said. She shifted lower in the bed and settled her arm tightly around his chest. “Imagine being able to stay here all day, no assassins to track down or apostates to kill or any of that excitement. Just you and me and no clothes…” She plucked at his sleeping tunic.

Fenris huffed in amusement. “You would become bored of lying here day after day. You know that.”

“Honestly, these days I would rather be bored than busy,” she retorted. “It’s always ‘Hawke this, Hawke that’. Why does everything always fall to me?” She slid her leg over his thigh, trapping his leg beneath her own as though he was trying to escape. “I would rather sit here in this house whining about nothing to do than go smoothing Meredith and Orsino’s ruffled feathers every other day.” She paused, then tilted her head against his chest. “Now that’s an odd mental image. The Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter as puffed-up ravens squawking at each other? Rather fitting, actually.” She snorted a little laugh.

Fenris frowned slightly; something odd had occurred to him. Ever since he’d known Hawke, people had always begged for her assistance, and he’d never seen her say no. She playfully complained at times about all the pleas for help, but she always said yes.

When they’d first met, Fenris had assumed that her constant acquiescence was a symptom of her cavalier spirit. He’d assumed she was simply seeking fortune and adventure with her constant collection of tasks and trials. And in part, it was true; Hawke was naturally adventurous, and she never shied away from any kind of lark that could afford a good laugh. But the more Fenris got to know her and her family, the more he’d seen the bitter truth: Hawke didn’t think she had a choice.

She’d been in charge of her family ever since her father had died. She’d been the one who called the shots and made the arrangements for her family’s day-to-day lives. Hawke took on everyone’s responsibilities because she’d never had the chance to refuse them.

And now Fenris wondered what she would have done if she had the choice.

“Hawke,” he said. “Do you ever wish…”

He broke off, and she tilted her chin up to look askance at him. Fenris chewed his lip for a moment, trying to find the right words to ask without making her sad.

He tried again. “If you could have done anything differently when you came to Kirkwall, what would you have done?”

She smiled. “Ooh, playing twenty questions now, are we? I like this game.” She nestled her cheek against his chest. “You know, I’m not sure. Working for Athenril wasn’t so bad. Um… I’m glad I met Varric. Maybe if we could have avoided that whole Deep Roads debacle, though. That would have been ideal.” She sat up on her elbow and shot him a saucy smile. “I was very glad when I met you. You stole my heart that day with your gross bloody hands. That’s something I wouldn’t change.”

He admired the mischievous glint in her eye. “An odd compliment, perhaps, but I will take it,” he said.

She grinned at him, then settled down on his chest again. “I like having all of you beautiful idiots to hang around with,” she said. “I wouldn’t change anything about that.” She fell quiet for a while, her fingers trailing idly across his chest, and when she spoke again, her tone was more pensive than before.

“If I could change anything, it would be the being-famous bit,” she said. “Helping people out for a little coin is all fine and good. Doing funny things and getting paid for it is even better. But being all well-known, getting pulled into politics and all that…”

She shifted restlessly and sighed. “Honestly, Fenris, I just want to be happy. That’s all I want. When we got here from Lothering, I thought to myself, ‘you know what would be nice? Being happy.’”

He glanced at her sharply. He knew Hawke was not always as lighthearted as she appeared to be, but these words seemed… ominous somehow. “Are you not happy?” he asked.

She shot him an odd look. “I am now,” she said, in a tone that suggested he was being dense. She hugged him more firmly. “Of course I’m happy now. It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Fenris slowly ran his hand along her naked back. She didn’t need to say anything more; he knew what she meant. He knew the roiling unrest between the mages and the Templars was taking its toll on her. He knew how anxious she truly felt, and how heavily the conflict was weighing on her shoulders.

They lay in silence for a moment. Then she lifted herself on her elbow again. “What about you?” she asked. “What do you think you’d be doing now if we hadn’t - er. I mean. If you hadn’t come to Kirkwall?”

“If we hadn’t met, you mean?” he teased. He shot her a little smirk, hoping his jocular tone would chase away her worries.  

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she smiled. “I know, I know what I almost said. I don’t want to assume I’m that important. You would have killed Danarius eventually whether I was there or not.”

Fenris twisted his lips skeptically, and Hawke gently smacked his chest in rebuke. “You would have,” she insisted. “Maybe you’d even have gotten him sooner if I wasn’t distracting you by constantly dragging you all over Kirkwall.”

“And the Vimmark Mountains,” Fenris added. “Don’t forget the Vimmark Mountains. Or the blasted Bone Pit.”

She barked out a laugh. “See? You would have been fine without me.” She settled her cheek on his chest and slid her arm around him once more.

Fenris carefully rolled onto his side and cradled her neck in his palm. He stroked her cheek until she looked him in the eye. “I will never know how things might have played out if we had not met,” he murmured. “But I don’t want to. I don’t think about what could have been. There is no point in such imaginings. It is as I told you before: I cannot imagine a life without you in it.”

Her pinkened cheeks flushed even further. She shuffled closer to him and curled her fists against his chest. “Such a smooth talker,” she whispered.

He shook his head and smoothed his thumb across her cheek. “No,” he said. “This is the unadorned truth, Rynne.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his. Fenris slid his fingers into her short dark hair, then slowly tugged her head back until their lips lightly met.

He kissed her carefully, a soft and gentle press of the lips, and her hands slowly unfurled to lay flat on his chest. Their kiss was slow and languid, a lazy press and flow of love from his lips to hers and back.

Then Toby gave a loud yawn beside the bed, and they reluctantly broke apart.

Hawke sighed against his cheek. “I suppose we need to get moving, don’t we?”

Fenris sighed as well. She was probably right.

He slowly slid his hand from her hair back to her neck, then down over her breast. His fingers trailed slowly over her ribs before coming to rest between her legs.

He felt the tiny catching of her breath as he cupped her sex through her smallclothes. “Not just yet. Let’s remain here a while longer,” he murmured.

“Okay,” she whispered. She gripped his shoulder, her lips parting on a shaky breath as he slowly ran his fingers between her legs, stroking her cleft through the silk of her smalls.  

Fenris watched with rising hunger as her face shifted from languid to lustful. It wasn’t long before he could feel her slickness through her smallclothes, and when she was eagerly tilting her hips toward his hand, he slid his hand carefully into the silken garment.

His fingers moved deftly through her curls to find the hidden nub of her clit, and Hawke dug her nails into his shoulders. “Fenris,” she gasped.

He kissed her firmly, trapping her whimpers of pleasure as she undulated against his hand, then lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip to give him easier access. He smoothed his fingers along her swollen folds, spreading her wetness and caressing her clit.

In the space of a few blissful minutes, Hawke was ready. She was straining against his hand, her thigh trembling against his hip and her breathing tremulous and jerky, and then she arched against his chest and released a breathy cry.

He dipped his hand low and plunged his fingers inside of her. She arched her neck and bucked against his hand, taking his fingers deep, then suddenly she grabbed his wrist. “Fenris,” she whimpered.

He paused in the curling of his fingers and fought to catch his breath. “What is it?” he panted.

She stared at him for a moment, then pulled his hand from her smalls and shoved her smallclothes off. Then she was kissing him, her tongue in his mouth as her fingers tugged at the laces of his loose linen trousers.

She impatiently pushed his trousers down to his knees, and then her leg was hooking over his hip again as she tried to thrust her hips toward him, and Fenris was gasping for breath, trying desperately to pull her closer, trying to bring her heat against his hardness. But the angle was awkward, lying on their sides like this, and he couldn’t - he couldn’t get close enough, he needed to be closer…

He lifted her leg off of his hip and roughly rolled her over. And then he was behind her, admiring the tattoo that sprawled across her back, running his palm across the valley of her waist as she arched her back and brushed against his cock with the rounded fullness of her bottom.

He lifted Hawke’s leg and slid himself into her blissful heat, and they gasped together.

Fenris gripped her thigh, pressing his forehead to her shoulder blade as he thrust into her. And then she was grabbing his wrist, pulling his hand away from her thigh and sliding his palm over her belly. She entwined her fingers with his, and Fenris felt the wavelike flow of her belly against his palm as she took him deep, as she rolled in a smooth rhythm with the pumping of his hips. He held her close, inhaling her skin, his body moving in perfect time to the melody of her whimpering cries.

He slid his hand higher, palming Hawke’s breast as he tasted her shoulder blade with his tongue, taking the salt of her skin onto his lips. He drank in the sound and the scent and the sheer blissful feel of her, his mind sinking into every perfect part of her as his cock sank into her heated depths. Hawke clutched his hand, holding his palm against her skin as though to never let him go, and as his climax crept toward him, he curled his arm more tightly around her body, holding her closer and feeling the heaving rise and fall of her ribs. When he finally came, he bit her golden shoulder, and a whimpering groan bled from his tongue and teeth into the succulent span of her skin.

He clutched her tightly as he caught his breath. Her chest was rising and falling beneath his arm in a steady flow, and his heart seemed to slow in time with her slow and easy breathing. Fenris relaxed into the moment, giving himself over to her slightly sweaty warmth and the spicy scent of skin and sex.

Eventually she rolled over to face him. “We should probably really get up now, right? For real this time?”

Fenris studied the smile at the corner of her amber eyes. She was cuddled closely against him, her knee between his thighs and her fists tucked against his chest again, looking as though she had no intention of leaving this bed anytime soon.

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Soon,” he murmured. “But not just yet.”

The wider world could wait. The problems in Kirkwall would still be there if Hawke remained in bed for a few minutes more, and Fenris would enjoy these minutes for all that they were worth.

Hawke was right. This was the best part. This breathless moment that they spent in each other’s arms, sheltered in this delicate threshold between one day and the next: this was the best part of the day.