#like sure Isabela knows she's beautiful and she enjoys sex

[titaniumshortcake]

They did so little to explain who she is or her significance to the story, it actually made me angry. She doesn't mention working with the Inquisition either, even though she was one of the cameos in Inquisition's multiplayer. Sure she works as an agent and as far as we know never formally meets the Inquisitor, but still. Varric and Hawke had to have put them in touch. She should have had more to say about both of them. There is a story there that was never told.

Idk how others in the fandom feel about this, but to me, Isabela's presence in Veilguard is frankly bizarre.

Isabela has wildly different endings in DA2, depending on Hawke's decisions and relationship with her. If you didn't form enough of a friendship or rivalry with her, she fucks off with the Tome of Koslun and never comes back. If Hawke decides not to defend her, she gets given up to the Arishok and Qunari. (It is implied she escapes regardless, but that's still a pretty significant thing to brush aside!) If Hawke romances Isabela and follows through on her quests, they stay together at least semi-permanently (barring whatever happens to Hawke in Inquisition).

Except, when you meet her in the Lords of Fortune - she can never mention any of that. She doesn't explain her new philosophy around the finding of cultural artefacts and how her Tome of Koslun debacle shaped that. She can never mention Hawke in any capacity, which is especially weird if your Hawke romanced her.

She does makes comments like "Kirkwall taught me a lot about family 😌" which makes 0 sense if your Isabela absolutely hightailed it out of Kirkwall or got thrown to the Qunari. What was the lesson she learnt, exactly? "I was right the whole time, fuck emotional vulnerability and fuck caring about anyone else?"

She's also one of the few characters who make an appearance other than the Inquisitor and Harding who has a close connection to Varric from previous games. You're telling me she has absolutely nothing to say about his death?

Her return strips her of any complexity and sidelines any of her past relationships because Veilguard just completely refuses to engage meaningfully with the stories before it.

[jazzafterhours]

neither of them is sure who kissed who first.

after card nights at the hanged man, someone always walks merrill home to make sure she's safe on the dark lowtown streets, and tonight is isabela's turn. they're both warm and content from the atmosphere of the tavern, and from having a good evening with their friends. merrill is feeling light with it. as the years go on, she feels her friendships with hawke and the others strengthening, and that means everything to her. isabela must be feeling similarly, because she's had a hand on the small of merrill back since they took the steps down into the alienage together. they've swayed closer to each other, shoulders pressing, keeping the tavern's heat from dissipating in the cool night air.

at merrill's door, the kiss happens like an inevitability, isabela's arm still around merrill's back, merrill's hands coming up to cup isabela's face in her palms. isabela is an amazing kisser. she has told merrill some of the tales favoured on ships about mystical creatures at sea who lure sailors to their death with beautiful songs. kissing isabela feels kind of like that, but merrill knows she's entirely safe.

when they part, isabela smiles softer than merrill has ever seen. it's mesmerizing.

"would you like to come inside?" merrill asks.

isabela's eyes search hers, looking torn. "are you sure about that, kitten?"

isabela is clear about her interest in sex (other than the times she uses innuendo; merrill still hasn't caught up with the phrases enough to always catch it). merrill knows isabela has a lot of experience. she also knows isabela and the others are more protective over her than they need to be.

"quite sure," merrill insists, "unless you aren't--"

isabela chuckles. "oh, sweet thing, i'd eat you right up, if you let me."

this is one of those turns of phrase that merrill doesn't quite understand, but she at least knows it's a good thing, in this context, and that she will very much enjoy letting isabela 'eat her right up'.

"well that's settled, then," merrill says brightly. she plucks her house key out of the pouch on her belt, gesturing isabela inside. "so sorry about--"

"the mess," isabela finishes for her with a lilt of humour in her voice. merrill supposes she does apologize for the state of her home a little too often. "if you want this, i promise you, your place will be even messier by the time i'm done with you."

a spark of heat flares through merrill at the promise in those words. need overcomes her, and she closes the distance between them again, kissing isabela like a request for more.

isabela obliges.

they stumble into a table, sending a couple books to the floor--merrill will feel bad about it later, but in the moment, she hardly notices. pieces of clothing end up strewn everywhere. they don't make it into the bedroom the first time, finding themselves on the rug in front of the hearth.

isabela doesn't do anything in halves, but, then, neither does merrill. she gives as good as she gets, learns that isabela likes her hair being pulled, learns that isabela likes it rough, but also that she likes some sweetness, too. merrill manages to make her come by simultaneously kissing her gently and grinding her thigh up against her.

when they're both thoroughly spent and catching their breath together in bed, isabela says, "you're a little more ferocious than i thought, aren't you, kitten?"

merrill curls the fingers of the hand she has resting on isabela's bare sternum, raking them down to her navel. "maybe next time you'd like to see my claws?"

in the candlelight, isabela's warm eyes glint beautifully, deep brown and gold. "is that a promise?"

"yes, it is," merrill says with a soft laugh. they're going to have a lot of fun together.

for now, they fall asleep tucked together, still sharing warmth.

as promised, merrill's house is considerably messier in the morning. for once, she's pleased about it.

[ivyglow]

Thinking ‘bout you | Mat Barzal NYI

A/n: Hey, guys! This request was from the song prompt list that @with-the-words-all-wrong​ tagged me, you can check it on her profile <3. I’m sorry I took too long, but I decided to write a whole ass piece and here it is (and guess what? I hated it lmao). 

- Btw if someone wants to proof read my pieces it would be great, just dm me if you’re interested! 

Word count: 3.3k 

Requested prompt:  10 “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it” & 13 “I liked when you cared about me too”

Summary: Y/n and Mat met through mutual friends and it’s not long before they start hooking up. She’s has a wild spirit, he’s looking for someone to settle down. Is it possible to meet the right person at the wrong time?

Flashbacks in Italic! 

Things started slowly but surely people knew it was coming. Since the first time y/n was introduced to Mat’s circle of friends, everyone noticed the way his eyes sparkled with interest and the way she seemed to reciprocate it. They were both young, reckless and any slight chance of love or affection sounded good to Barzal at that time. He was living on his own, and sure most of his time was at practice or out with his friends, but the home-alone time made him think about some things such as settling or at least going for something more serious than the eventual hookups that he would have. 

Y/n was funny and beautiful. God, was she beautiful.

The first thing he noticed about her was the eyes. On that low lighted bar, her eyes were glowing green in contrast with her skin. She was wearing jeans and sneakers, outstanding everyone. She was so simple, and maybe that was the thing that drew him towards her. The feeling of not caring about what people would think, not being open to doing everything as expected but doing it as you wanted to. 

And maybe, just maybe, it was this exact feeling that made y/n choose Mathew. 

Everyone in her family was expecting her to get into a serious relationship as soon as she landed in New York, but as her friend, Kayla would say “New York it’s not the place to find a lover”, and she was well aware of being on the age of glory. Her early twenties and the freedom of living on her own, paying her own bills something she dreamed of since she turned fourteen. 

She wanted to have fun and Mathew Barzal was definitely a funny guy.

They went to many friends’ meetings before finally taking a step on the obvious sexual tension. That did not mean it was time enough to become best friends, it was time enough to become mutuals. He knew some things about her and she knew some about him. He knew, for example, that she hated when people tried to make decisions for her, she liked independence in every way and damn was y/n mad when their friends tried to pair her with Mat before she could make her mind about it. 

The thing she knew about him was that he liked her and she knew it because he was an obvious guy or at least he was obvious when it came to her. Not in the sweet romantic way, but in a cute and affectionate way. 

Or at least that’s what she tried to remember while things started to escalate quickly with movie nights and nights in, or morning sex. They were getting attached, but it wasn’t what y/n planned at all and she knew she had a short amount of time before she would get attached herself. 

It was a Friday night, she had an average day at work and the guys were celebrating friendship, just the possibility of having their small and closed group whenever they needed. These kinds of celebrations started with Kayla, she was the one always wondering and getting the best of life, pulling her focus towards the small details of life that usually made it better. Her biggest fear was to die without enjoying life, y/n was always down for her ideas and shared a fear that looked a lot like Kayla’s.

They were chilling in Tito’s balcony, drinks in hand, enjoying the feeling of the cold New York air hitting their faces and the noises of the city that never sleeps being drowned by the many floors below. Kayla was telling one of her stories while Mat, Joe, Katy, and Isabela listened carefully. Tito was sitting by them but seemed lost on his own little world, the reason why y/n would sometimes call him ‘dreamy boy’. A random song was playing low on the speakers, but everyone heard when y/n finally arrived.

“Why you always late?” Joe asked before swinging the rest of his beer in a long sip. 

“I’m never late…” she faked confusion before going for the wine bottle. “You guys just always early.” 

Mat chuckled and Kayla rolled her eyes slightly, he liked her so much he even found her shitty jokes funny. Or maybe it was just Mathew, he usually was the first one to laugh, anything was fun to him, almost like he didn’t curse or lost his mind every 5 minutes on the ice.

“That one is old, y/n” Tito finally left his dreamy thoughts and provoked his friend. He loved to joke around with y/n, it was like she had an answer for everything and she also happened to be a great listener whenever he needed a sincere opinion that wasn’t from Barzal. 

“You’re getting old too and I’m not saying that in your face...and Mathew laughed, I would say my jokes are aging well” y/n walked over greeting everyone properly. Barzal was the last one and kiss she left too close to his mouth wasn’t unnoticed by  Anthony. 

“Wanna sit with me?” He asked still holding her by the hand. All the available surfaces to sit already occupied. 

“You mean to say ‘sit on you’?!” 

Isabela that was sitting closer to Mat laughed out loud, “You guys are so obvious…” 

“Are you drunk?” y/n replied back trying to sound nonchalant and sitting on Mat’s tights. 

His hands found its way on her waist and she was a bit impressed at how comfortable it felt to be that close. He was wearing his cargo pants and a grey sweatshirt, hair an aesthetic mess at the top of his head and lips glowing from his beer. 

It was short before Kayla went back to her story and y/n start sipping her wine. 

Mat’s hand would travel up and down her waistline under the soft blouse she was wearing and eventually her left hand found his neck hair. It seemed natural, almost as if the exchange of physical affection were something they did every day, and considering their friends were not chirping or making a huge deal out of the situation it seemed even more common. 

“Are you driving home?” y/n asked when Mat finished his second beer bottle and she was still on her first wine glass. 

He turned to look at her, a slightly confused and curious frown on his face. 

“You’re drinking...I know you handle your alcohol just fine, but drink and drive it’s no good” she explains being more detailed than usual. 

Barzal chuckles before pressing a kiss in her cheekbone, “You look cute when you’re worried.”

“It’s not-” she starts but the look on his face says it all, he already knew. He had her figured out so easily sometimes it was scary. “I just wanna sleep in peace knowing all my friends are fine… I care about you.”

“You wouldn’t have this problem if you sleep with me tonight.” 

And indeed, that was the first night they spent together and it was far to be the last. 

Usually, she would be gonna by the sunrise, but this time y/n was exhausted with work and school and having to deal with her family constantly asking about plans they had for her, besides the physical weariness of a whole sex night with Mat. That morning she woke up not to a silent house, but to a shirtless Mat cooking breakfast while blasting her playlist of favorite songs. 

“Normally I woke up without feeling like it, but Frank Ocean is playing and you’re doing pancakes...although I’m not really sure about how the food is going to turn out” y/n walked in the kitchen catching Mathew’s attention. 

“Good morning to you too” he mocked her, glancing at his oversized shirt that hung her body in a baggy way but still so beautiful. 

“You need help there?” she asked going to the water bottle sitting on the counter.

“This is the last pancake, everything’s ready” he walked away from the stove just to wrap one arm around y/n’s middle. 

She thought to herself that Mat was the whole package, he knew her so well, he even put effort into cooking in the mornings they spent together -which were few, but still- and he was a great listener, although he liked to talk just as much. He was funny and hot, and he could do both so easily it was painful sometimes. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she kept to herself and left their silence to hug their bodies together. His face resting on the crook of her neck and her hands brushing his long locks. 

As soon as the song switched to Lost, y/n’s lips left a loud gasp. Mat would be surprised or confused, but it wasn’t his first time seeing her enjoy her favorites Frank Ocean songs, some he knew the entire lyrics. It was funny to see her wildly dancing and singing as if the world would end anytime soon. And it was those same eyes that made him leave breakfast for good and join her private show. They spent almost thirty minutes stuck on the dance-sing-perform-y/n’s-favorites.

These were the moments where they would be more friends than ever. Sharing the intimacy of the voice of each other and the awkward dance moves, getting to know the songs’ preference, and almost getting a noisy complaint by the neighbors.

And so when Mat started to miss her in the mornings and wish her by his side at night he realized that the intimacy of the moments they spent together could fit as a relationship intimacy as well. Y/n was so easy to be around and she would always have her own way of seeing random everyday things. She liked to go straight to the point too, she hated to lie and hated to left people read one thing when she was trying to say another. That’s why when they started to hookup she told Mathew she wasn’t looking for a lover, she liked him for sure, but being in the years of glory and living in New York wasn’t something she wanted to leave for a relationship. 

After almost four months going on like they used to, Mat thought maybe y/n changed her mind. Maybe she liked him as much as he liked her. 

And she was point-blank when Barzal brought the subject, “I like you a lot, but I love my freedom.” She didn’t try to put much into it, telling him about her problems would only make him built hope, and she knew that maybe by the time she was fine with the idea of a serious relationship she could be in love with someone else or even he could be. Y/n liked Mathew indeed and that’s why she left him. 

Keep it up would only hurt him. 

And so they said their goodbyes without a huge fight, but the silence still hurt just as much.

Mat shifted his focus to the season that was about to start, the travel around and games non-stop would take his mind away from how complicated feelings could be sometimes. Y/n, on the other hand, dived into work and school, however, still gets herself wondering about Barzal and how things would turn out if she said yes to his proposition. She missed him in the simple tasks of the day and had to constantly remind that they were not texting each other anymore and no, he definitely did not want to know about the funny dog that ran to her at the park. 

Nevertheless, they had the same group of friends and when the season ended and so did midterms, it was crystal clear that they would need to face each other again. 

It was a Friday night, just like the first time they spent the night together, and she had an awful day at work, still, Kayle was able to drag her to Tito’s apartment where the small group where reunited. This time it was not one of her best friend random celebrations, it was actually because they spent too long without meeting. 

When they finally reached Anthony’s floor y/n still had no idea how she would talk with Mat. She was nervous. They went from 2 a.m calls to zero communication and the lack of it was the reason why she had no idea how he was feeling, if he was doing fine, if he hated her, if he was ok with keeping the friendship etc. 

Everyone was in the living room surrounded by bottles and snacks while a random pop song was playing on the tv. He was the first face she searched for but was nowhere to be found, and so y/n settled for greeting each of her friends with a warm and tight hug. 

Except for Tito, he was the last one on the sofa line, “where’s my wine, Beau?” 

“Kitchen counter” he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Alright, now I can give you a hug” y/n joked before lowering herself and draping her arms around Anthony’s shoulders.

“Bring me another water bottle too, please” Joe requested when she was making her way towards the other room.

The hardwood floor felt cold against her feet and she enjoyed the feeling, trying to switch her thoughts to something other than why Mathew wasn’t there. But before she was able to, she reached the kitchen and there he was sitting on the stool while working in one of his drinks.

It was like the cold from her feet reached her whole body suddenly and she was nervous again.

Mathew made y/n nervous.

It was new to her and she was torn between trying to figure out more about the unknown feeling or ignoring it by shoving it down her pocket. 

“Hey!” she tried to sound cheerful, but only got a nod as the response.

Y/n couldn’t read him with his eyes away from her, but he seemed a little out of tune. His hair the usual aesthetic mess at the top of his head and his so friendly white sweatshirt. 

She walked over to the freezer reaching the water bottle Joe asked for and then going for the glasses and pouring her so loved wine. 

“For a moment when I walked in and didn’t saw my wine at the coffee table, I thought Tito had forgotten about me” her remark did not bother Mathew that kept working with the lemon and vodka in front of him. The pang on her heart now so much vivid. Maybe he hated her indeed, maybe he was heartbroken after everything they went through. And she couldn’t help but finally let some kind of guilty sink at the top of her stomach. “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it?” 

The thirty seconds of silence were filled with Mat’s breath since y/n was holding hers. 

“What do you mean?” Mat sounded genuinely confused. 

“I mean you ignoring me...I never intended to hurt you, you know?” 

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just out of the area today, my sleep schedule is all fucked up and I’ve been a little grumpy lately, there’s nothing to do with you.” 

She wanted to ask how he was doing, if he were hurt when things didn’t go as planned, she even wished to ask about hockey so he would smile bright and big and keep talking for the next two hours. But instead, she took the wine glass and water bottle, making her away to the living room while holding her heart in her hands too. 

Joe started a conversation about vacation and so it was the main topic for two hours straight, and even though Mat knew a lot about the subject he kept his mouth shut, mainly just listening to everyone while sipping his drink. It was unusual considering Barzal was usually the one who couldn’t shut up, you would always hear him on the friends’ get-together either his loud voice or his laugh. 

Y/n found herself looking at Mat right across her, but she was still able to miss him, cause it didn’t felt like he was there. He was far away in all meanings. 

“There’s something I can do to help?” y/n asked while walking to sit beside Mat in the bed they were, certainly, going to share that night, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to make you feel better, I guess you know by now that it wasn’t your fault.”

Mat was moping since he got home, the islanders had lost and the cherry to the cake was the fact that they lost a home game, and y/n was by his side time enough to know that he absolutely hated to lose this way, but she wasn’t time enough to know how she was supposed to deal with it. She wasn’t in the mood for sex and he sure wasn’t too, however she couldn’t stand the pouty lips and the moody Mat, it gave her heart a little pain.

“You don’t need to say anything” he mumbled underneath the covers. 

“But I want to. I care about you, Mathew.” she insisted. “What can I do?”

Mat had this soft smile in the corner of his lips watching y/n sitting by his side and looking at him as if he was the most important thing to her at that moment. ‘I care about you’ wasn’t an ‘I love you’, but it meant something deep and they both knew it. 

“You can just lay with me.” He gave up scooting to the side and opening his arms for her to lay on top of him. “And stay the night.” 

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” y/n’s lips found Mat’s in a slow and sweet kiss that last only some seconds before her face was on the crook of his neck. 

Everyone was too caught up on the conversation to notice y/n walk to the balcony and sit in one of the big cold chairs, everyone except Mat and it didn’t take long for him to grab a blanket and follow. He knew she was barefoot and she usually was cold at night. Mat knew a lot of things he never thought he would when they first started going out. Yes, he was looking for a lover, and yes he wished with all his willpower to be y/n, but she left him dazed, living each day by its time - as it’s supposed to be -. Maybe that was the reason why in the middle of it all he didn’t stop too much to think about how things were turning in an unknown road...and when he did, it took them to the mess they were living. 

Barzal said nothing as he dropped the blanket around y/n’s body and lowered himself to sit by her side. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled a bit dizzy. 

“No need to thank me, I just still care about you, that’s all.” His voice was low but firm. He didn’t sound spiteful, it was as if he was letting himself to be soft after every solid thing that hit both of them. 

And y/n took the time to process that information. 

Mat still care!!!, her insides screaming in pure joy and confusion, and she felt as unsteady as ever. All the ‘what if’s’ making room inside her thoughts. But ‘What if he still cares, but don’t want anything?' ‘What if things don’t work out?’

“I liked when you cared about me too…” Mat voiced taking y/n’s silence as an answer itself. . 

“Mat, I’m just…” she thought for some seconds more, her head still bubbling with doubts. “I still care about you.”

His head was still low, fingers playing with a random bracelet, he was deep in his thoughts just as y/n. 

“I wasn’t ready to commit, I have so much shit going on and it’s a whole package. A relationship is different from how we were working before. It demands a lot more…I also needed these months to think again and again about it.” She ranted while staring at the building in front of them. “But I still do. I still care about you.”

“I wanna give it a try, the whole package, and everything. I like you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice drowned by the noise of the city, but she was still able to hear him, the soft tone, the truth underneath each word. “Just text me and let me know when you’re ready.” 

She nodded while they exchanged a meaningful look. Truth dripping from each other’s eyes along with affection and a new kind of feeling.

They sat there in silence for some minutes, just listening to the city’s noise and feeling the cold air hit their faces before y/n took her phone typing a simple message and sending it to Mat. He looked at her, a hint of amusement and happiness, and she shook her head yes.

[sinsbymanka]

It is I, your local purveyor of Dwarven Bullshit and participant of the Black Emporium 2020 exchange. Now that I have been unmasked I would like to take credit for the fics I have written that seem to have been enjoyed so widely. This whole exchange has been so much fun and has honestly done more for my confidence as a writer than I can say. In particular, I want to thank the following people who put my work on their fic recommendation lists without knowing I was the culprit: @hollyand-writes​, @tevivinter​, @mythawrites​, and @jarakrisafis​. 

Without further ado. I present my 2020 Black Emporium Fics.

Title: Survival According to Antivan Assassins Rating: T Pairing: Female Brosca/Zevran Arainai, Female Warden/Zevran Arainai Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff, Pining, Flirting, Unresolved Sexual Tension  For: @stitchcasual​ This was my original BE assignment and it was a pleasure to write!  AO3 Link

Narah Brosca really got recruited into the Grey Wardens for one reason, her sheer, stubborn refusal to die. Zevran Arainai has that in common, despite the way they both chase their deaths.When it cuts a little close to Narah, Zevran has to confront his feelings are more complicated than he'd like.

Title: I’m Calling Bullshit Rating: T Pairing: Female Brosca/Varric Tethras, Female Warden/Varric Tethras Tags: Flirting, Unresolved Sexual Tension For: @girlwondersteph​ This was my first pinch hit and it was a BLAST.  AO3 Link

Varric Tethras, Viscount of Kirkwall and Deshyr, finds himself surprised by a visitor who appears out of nowhere with seemingly no motive except to fluster and beguile him. He's shocked to learn he's just as dewy-eyed about at least one Paragon as the rest of his dwarven kin.

Title: An Unexpected Betrothal Rating: T Pairing: Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Established Relationship, Post-canon, Post-trespasser DLC, wacky misunderstandings  For: @tevivinter​ another pinch hit I picked up because your art is so beautiful and you always take such care on my commissions and you deserved something lovely. I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  AO3 Link

Reese Cadash accompanies her girlfriend to chaperone her younger sister on a date with a potential suitor. It... goes less than smoothly, but ends with a sweet surprise.

Title: Small, Controlled Fires Rating: E Pairing: Bianca Davri/Varric Tethras Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Infidelity, Assassins, Background Carver Hawke/Merrill  For: @hollyand-writes​ I know I kinda gave this one away saying, before I knew I had time, that I wished I had time to write this for you. Thank you for everything you do and I appreciate you! You deserved this treat for sure.  AO3 Link

Varric Tethras wouldn't say he had alternate motives for wanting to visit an Orlesian Chateau.

And he certainly won't admit to sabotaging their own travel plans for an extra night in Val Royeaux for the chance to see a certain genius with a beautiful name.

Title: A Bard for the Chargers Rating: T Pairing: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Maryden Halewell Tags: Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Flirting, Matchmaking, Canon Typical Violence For: @hazelestelle​ This was the last pinch hit I picked up! I’d never written Krem or Maryden before so I really hope you liked it!  AO3 Link

Krem is used to watching Maryden in the tavern, but when she decides she wants to experience the action for herself before she writes her songs... well, that changes everything. The Iron Bull is thrilled to encourage it.

Title: Knight Takes Princess Rating: E Pairing: Female Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Female Warden/Gorim Saelac Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, BDSM elements, Male Dom, Light Bondage, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Spanking, Hate Sex, Reunion Sex For: @jarakrisafis​ Honestly I was nervous about this treat! But then you liked it so much you asked for a sequel and you had such a good idea I couldn’t resist. I had to ASK the BE Mods if I was even allowed. I’m glad you liked it! AO3 Link

Sereda Aeducan belonged to Gorim Saelac. Just because he married someone else, doesn't change that fact. Their reunion in Denerim reminds them both of what they'd do for and to each other.

Title: Lyrium and Salt Rating: E Pairing: Fenris/Isabela Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Light Exhibitionism if you squint For: @blarfkey​ omg I cannot tell if you were messing with me and KNEW I wrote this all week and that’s why you brought it up a handful of times OR if you really liked it that much. You were killing me. I really do hope you liked it. Thank you for being a good friend.  AO3 Link

Isabela tastes like salt, sea, and freedom. When she offers it, and a life on his own terms, can Fenris find it in himself to consider a life by her side?

I’d also like to thank all the amazing and patient moderators of the @black-emporium-exchange​ who worked so hard to pull this massive event off, my beta readers who took the time to digest all this shit I threw at them (@river-of-asgard​, @lostinfantasies38​, @blarfkey​, @corylion​, and Toshi), my smutty literature inspiration @tightassets​, and literally ALL my friends who listened to me whine about all the writing I had to do for three weeks. I love you so much. 

See you all next year?  

[sabineelectricheart]

The Long Road

Summary: Hawke asks Sebastian to accompany her to the Wounded Coast to help matchmake Aveline and Donnic. The Brother is not amused.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1909

Notes: So, I’ve been playing DA these days, and I thought to cross-post here some fanfictions I wrote way back when. Enjoy!

Sitting on the floor by the door of the City Guard Captain is certainly not the best use of my time.

Hawke was twirling her hair distractedly, to my great surprise, also looking extremely bored and rather uncomfortable. I did not think she had that tick, as I felt that fighting highwaymen and explorations down the Deep Roads did not seemed befitting to hair care and the affairs of the heart.

Well, this whole day has been about surprising circumstances.

*_*_*_*_*

“Please, Sebastian!” She begged. “The whole thing feels so ungainly!”

She came looking for me at the Chantry, early that morning, while I tended to the candles to the dead. I had not the chance to finish my prayers before she grumbled her request.

I was used to Hawke’s weird invites, and usually I am more than glad to attend to them. She is a good friend and a fierce fighter, I never feared for my life with her by my side, not to mention my standing debt with her.

This, however, was a little too weird. To help matchmake the Guard Captain with a guardsman. By doing the rounds ahead of them.

“I can see that.” I agreed. “That is why I don’t think I should get involved. How would Guard Captain Aveline say if she knew you are being so open about her private life?”

“She asked me for help, and now I’m asking you…” She mumbled.

“She asked you, not me. You should do what you can, not bite more you can chew, and certainly not go spreading the tale around town.”

“I know that!” She defended. “That’s why I came to you, really. Varric and Isabela would tell all the patronage at the Hanged Man, Merrill has good intents, but she has an awful lack of tact, and Fenris and Anders are pants at romance.”

“And you thought a Brother of the Chantry would be a better option?”

“Yes?” She said, weakly. “Look, you had a, er, prolific romantic life when you were younger. Besides, mother tells me all the noble girls ask for you to hear their confessions.”

I felt my cheeks redden. “That’s beside the point!”

“What I mean by that is that you know how it works.” She countered, matter-of-factly, then, whispering, she said, “That’s more I can say for myself.”

The declaration made me halt for a moment, as I was quite sure that she would have had involved herself with Fenris at some point in time, or at least Anders in the three months they were away at the Deep Roads.

Nevertheless, while I heard her quite well, in respect for her right to privacy over her affairs of the heart, I did not press, despite my deep-seeded curiosity in the matter.

“I do not know what you would call experience, but I insist that I have no special skill over those matters. Even if I did, my, ahem, interests have been firmly and historically towards the fairer sex, and I come to understand that this is an entirely different métier.” I argued, trying to put an end to the discussion.

She groaned unseemly, and looked me dead in the eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you that, but I have no choice. Yesternight, Aveline wanted me to take Donnic for a drink at the Hanged Man and distract him for a while before she arrived, and now he’s under the impression I’m interested in him. He rejected me, of course, and thank the Maker for it, but I’m horribly embarrassed by that.

“If you were to come with me, perhaps… Well, perhaps he would understand I don’t want nothing with him and refrain from doing this sort of comment. At least, I think he wouldn’t jump to that conclusion anymore. Just… Please?”

Guardsman Donnic thought Hawke was interested on him, out of all people? And then came to the conclusion she was not worth his affections? He had quite a sense of self, huh?

Marian Hawke was not only a blue-blood, hailing from one of the most important families of the Free Marches, and with an enviable martial skill, which serves to memory that he made use of when she saved him. She was remarkably beautiful as well, yes, but that is not all, either. She had a noble character that was very hard to come by, always in service of the downcast of Kirkwall, even if she made questionable decisions on occasion.

The thought that Donnic is somehow above her made me want to laugh.

“Fine. Let’s go.” I conceded, sighing.

She beamed and led me to the city gates by the hand. I did not mind.

*_*_*_*_*

Her plan at the Wounded Coast did not go well.

Aveline was right in asking for all the help she could get, as she was hopeless when it came to romantic relationships, and it was painfully distressing to watch it unfold.

After clearing the entire path of highwaymen and traffickers, Donnic and Aveline had a completely uneventful patrol, where she could not form a single sentence that did not feel like nails on a chalkboard, not to mention the pitiful romantic caliber of it.

Hawke was downright frustrated, whispering expletives to herself she thought I could not hear, and I usually would chastise the language, but there was a time and a place to swear, and I ought to say this was it.

Finally, when they reached our outpost at the end of the trail, she forsook their anonymity and jumped in front of the pair of guardspeople, a wagging finger in front of her face.

“We don’t have all night, you know?!” She shouted at them.

Donnic, confused, looked between me, emerging from the bushes, Hawk and Aveline.

“Would someone please tell me what is going on?” He asked.

I sighed. “Guardsman Donnic, excuse my bluntness, but for the Maker’s sake, me and Hawke have been trying to help Captain Aveline to communicate her feelings for you all day. Please cooperate, because she is helpless.”

“Captain?” He turns to her to confirm, and she could only laugh noncommittally. Faced with such riveting response, he responded, uncomfortable, “I… Should get to the barracks.”

“Most unwise.” I commented, but made no further attempt of dissuading the man.

As he left, Aveline turned to Hawke in absolute rage. “I thought we were friends.”

“Friends sometimes push.” Was her response.

“I have to fix this. He could ask for a transfer, file a complaint.” She said, concernedly, and then turned to me. “You! You will come to the barracks and explain why you put him on the spot, or so help me!”

“Aveline, love is patient, love is kind, but love does not read thoughts.” I pointed out. “I hear you wanted to know whether you were a good match for each other, and I am sorry to say, there is no other way. The Maker will not tell you the right answer, you will have to find out yourself.”

Her eyes narrow and her hold on her sword tightens. “I will see you at the Keep.”

*_*_*_*_*

Once at the City Guard headquarters, Aveline had yet to calm herself down.

She paced back and forth through the main lounge, the other guards looking curiously at us.

“Maker, where is Donnic?” She begruntled. “I have to stop this before it arrives at the viscount. Maybe a formal apology. Something that show the guards they still can trust me.”

“Perhaps a few awkward gifts should help.” Hawke pointed out, and I snickered.

The redhead glared at her friend.

“You are their captain, Aveline.” I said, trying to defuse the situation. “You are not a golem; you are a human being. They expect you to have feelings, and are bound to respect you more if you show them on occasion.”

“Not if they are getting on the way of the job!” She countered.

“You don’t know that yet.” Hawke piped.

“It doesn’t matter! It’s a liability!” The other woman responded, deeply frustrated and afraid. “I will not be that stupid again.”

Guardsman Donnic chose that moment to appear down the stairs at the headquarters.

“Excuse me, Serah Hawke, Messere Vael, I need to speak with Aveline in private.”

“Guardsman Donnic.” Aveline acknowledges him, looks for confirmation from Hawke and motions for them to converse at her office.

*_*_*_*_*

Now, we wait.

A loud giggle coming from the room surprises Hawke, who uncrosses her arms and straightens her back.

“It seems to be going well.” She commented.

“It would appear so.” I agreed.

Her mouth twitched slightly over her thoughts, and then she sits next to me. “Hey, Sebastian?”

“Yes?”

“Before you made your vows, have you ever been in love?”

“No.” I said, categorically. “When I first left the Chantry, which was when I started dragging the family name through the mud, my mother offered me a choice: either to return to the order or to get married.

“I abhorred the idea of being what I thought to be equivalent to shackled to a woman the rest of my life, so I thought I could just pretend to have a righteous life with the sisters for a year or two, and then resume my prior interests once my parents forgot about it. Funny how things turned out.

“Had I been in love, truly in love, my choice would certainly be other. In fact, perhaps I would never get to the point of having to chose at all, I would have never strayed.”

“I see.” She tutted. “Do you regret it? Making your vows? Being unable to marry?”

I chuckled. “I could never regret a promise made to the Maker. However, I do wish things have never gone this way.”

“You mean, the Harimanns?”

“Yes, that too. I was more than happy to continue my life as a third son, keeping my vows, but I think I would be happy as a minor noble in an estate in the Marches, and that would include having a family, too.”

She smiled sadly at me. “For what is worth, I am sorry for what happened with your family. I am sorry you are being forced into a role you do not really want. Maker knows it’s something I have experienced.”

I thought about what I could say about that matter, but I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Instead, I asked of her, “What about you? Do you desire to get married?”

“Yeah.” She responded shily. “I am a mage. I think I should marry, I feel like I should, for my people at Circles that cannot. Besides, you tend to develop a desire for stability when you become a refugee.”

I sighed. “I see. Who would you want to marry, then?”

Her cheeks redden. “I don’t know. The best I can tell you is I want a good man.”

“Preferably a direct one?” I asked in jest.

“Andraste, yes!” She breathed out.

As she spoke, Donnic emerged from the office, bowed his head slightly, and Aveline asked to talk to her.

“Sebastian?” She asked from the doorstep. “Would you care for waiting for me? We could stop by the baker’s before walking to the Chantry.”

I smiled. “I would love to.”

“Great.” She, too, beamed. “I’ll be right out.”

So, I began to think, what does make a good, direct man? Perhaps Varric knows the answer. I ought to ask him one of these days.

*_*_*_*_*

Dragon Age II Masterlist

[taki118]

Different Paths (A DA2 Personal Challenge) Varric & Isabela

Reposting some of my favorite ficlets from this on going writing challenge of my own making read the rest here

Isabela enjoyed a good hunt as much as she enjoyed a good duel. Not the boring sort where one trotted trough bug infested woods to follow after some dumb animal for hours. No her hunts were a dance of wits and seduction. A bedding just wasn’t as satisfying if there was no sport to it. She enjoyed playing the game as it meant revealing in her victory. But this was getting ridiculous.

Six years, six sodding years and Isabela had gotten nothing more than a passing flirtation from the dwarf. It was insulting is what it was. Varric knew the game she was playing and instead of letting her trap him or giving her the graces of stating she had the wrong weapons he merely played along.

It wasn’t fair, the first charming dwarf she ever met and he acted like he wasn’t interested. An act she saw through time and again when she caught him eyeing her many assets, and she knew for a fact long legs was not a trait she shared with dwarven girls. Only interested in dwarfs her pert ass.

Well no more. This was to be her final attempt, her last hurrah and she was going to get something out of this hunt one way or another.

“I challenge you to a game.” Isabela announced barging her way into his private rooms.

“No can do Rivani.” He laughed not once looking up from whatever it was he was writing, even as the table shook from her placing her feet on top. “I still haven’t recovered from the last one.”

“Ohhhhh but this isn’t a simple game of cards I’m challenging you to.” His quill stopped its scratching for a second before continuing. And so she lays the trap. “I came across it in Orlais, one of the few good things from that place.”

“And pray tell what is this game of yours?” Isabela smirked, he was taking the bait.

“It’s called The Game of Secrets.” His quill stops then, his head raising to meet her eyes.

“Alright I’ll bite. What’s this game entail?” He leaned back and she had him right where she wanted him.

“It’s very simple,” She began picking the dirt from under her nails, as though she could care less. “We each set a stack of five gold sovgiens, we go until one of us is left with nothing.” With a smirk she pulled a coin from her bodice placing it on the table. “I say something and you bet whether or not it’s a lie. You guess right you get a coin, guess wrong you loose one.”

“Ahhhh I see why you chose me for this game.” Varric began, his eyes twinkling deviously at the prospect of the game. “But shouldn’t it be called the game of liars?”

“Oh no see if I tell a truth and you think it a lie I get two coins.” She smirked moving her body gracefully to properly lean in. “Don’t you want to learn some of my secrets?”

“I already know your secrets.”

“Do you?”

The room was quiet save for the sounds from bar downstairs and the drumming of his fingers on the table. It was a mock of thought, a tell she’d found in their card games, he’d made his decision it was only a matter of admitting it.

“Alright Rivani you got yourself a game.”

It took them a few minutes to set the table, putting his papers and ink away and of course getting a few pints from the bar. What’s the point of a betting game if you’re sober?

“So who goes first?” Isabela smirked raising the tankard to her lips.

“Ladies first.”

“Aww what a gentleman.” She cooed mockingly only to be met with his mock of bow. She did so enjoy their repartee.

“Alright. I’ve never seen Hawke naked.” And the game began.

“Ok now that’s a lie.” He laughed only for the pirate to shake her head taking two of his coins. “What!? But I thought you two...”

“Oh we did.” She interrupted. “We just didn’t care enough to remove more than was needed.”

“Alright alright,” He chuckled trying to compose himself. “My turn. I once had a dwarven lord kick the shit out of me for something I wrote in a book.”

“Hmmmm,” she thought as she drank. “I’ll say truth.”

“That my dear was a lie.” With ease he took his coin back. “Though I did write a rather scathing piece about a dwarven lord I didn’t care for, he just never figured it out.”

“Too thick headed I assume.”

“Eh you change em to a human and most dwarves can’t tell. They can’t all be like me.”

“A pity really.” The bluntness of her words didn’t seem to strike him or if they did he was hiding it exceedingly well. Still this was her last attempt and being coy seemed to do her no favors.

“My turn. Isabela isn’t my birth name.“

“Truth. Isabela isn’t exactly a Rivani name.”

“That it isn’t.”

“So what was it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

And so the game continued for hours, coins being passed back and forth amongst the pair as well as lovely little tidbits to keep in the back of their minds. All while their many tankards emptied. The room was pleasantly warm and filled with laughter though Isabela was clearly besting Varric with her seven coins to his three but he didn’t seem to mind. Reveling in the secrets he’d learnt of her.

“Hmmmmm let me see....,” She drawled as she stretched in the chair, looking delightfully sinful. “I had sex with the Hero of Fereldan.” Varric only laughed taking two of her coins.

“It’s a truth. I’ve heard you spout that tale at least once a month at the Hanged Man.” He’d relaxed in his chair having removed his duster and gloves some time ago. “You’re slipping Rivani.”

“Maybe I slipped on purpose to extend our fun?” She purred enjoying seeing him so relaxed. His cheeks flushed at more than just the drink, she was getting to him.

“My mother was a lovely woman.” His attempt at changing the subject.

“That’s a lie.” Her hand reaching to take a coin only for him to smack her hand away playfully.

“It’s the truth she was a lovely woman.....to other people.” He smirked taking his two coins. Normally she’d praise him for his deviousness instead she pouted and patted her hand. The response was a laugh just as she’d expected. “Sorry I had to get rough with you.”

“Ohhhhh Varric I can think of much better ways you can be rough with me.” Hook, line and sinker just as he started to drink. As he coughed for dear life she continued. “In fact I have this ....”

“Mercy Isabela have mercy on this poor dwarf.”

“Aww well since you’ve asked nice. I’ve never had sex with a dwarf.” Isabela was hardly being subtle any more and Varric knew it. What he didn’t know was her angle.

“Lie.” He announced holding a hand for his coin.

“Fine you got me.” Not really she wanted him to call her. “But only because I didn’t specify.” Dropping the coin now putting him in the lead with eight. Not that winning this game was the goal of the night. “Had i said I’ve never slept with a male dwarf it’d be the truth.”

To her surprise, Varric made no comment only taking his coin. Well that was some wasted bait she thought annoyed.

“I’ve never slept with a non dwarf.” He smirked and her golden eyes gleamed.

“Lie!” She shouted proudly taking his coin.

“And just how do you know that?” She laughed at her victory, no doubt plotting to say it was the truth and ending their game.

“You have your contacts and I’m friends with nearly every worker at the Blooming Rose.” The look on his face, utterly surprised and embarrassed, if that was all she got from this it would be worth it. Why she’d commission a painting. “And you bought a lovely lady with legs for miles time a little more than six months ago.”

“Just take your coin and get on with it Rivani.” It was the closest she’d ever gotten to hearing him mad. A smart woman would drop it, but then Isabela was nothing if not bold.

“Awww Sore spot? Don’t beat yourself up Varric everyone gets lonely and there arent many dwarf girls in Kirkwall...” She’d meant to tease him, say how human women had their advantages and she’d be willing to demonstrate, but instead he spoke up.

“It’s not that she wasn’t a dwarf, it’s that she wasn’t....” His eyes drifted over to his crossbow for a moment and it told the rogue all she need know.

“I’ve had my heart broken.” She announced simply as though it were like anything else she’d said this night. He waited a moment trying desperately to figure out her game.

“.....Truth?” He asked unsure for the first time this night. Casually she tossed him two coins.

“I was surprised honestly. Wasn’t even sure at first but that’s what it was.”

“It was that elf right?” He asked watching her drink. “The antivan.” She nodded softly.

“You never forget your first I suppose, not really. Even if you didn’t realize it...” she sighed this was far more personal than intended but they way he was looking at her, like a good book he couldn’t predict, she wanted to keep it that way.

“My isabela he’d call me.” She sighed thumbs rubbing the rim of her tankard. “said it meant little beauty in Antiva. I loved the way it sounded coming from his lips, I never wanted to be called by anything else.” She expected a jest, maybe a ‘nothing little about you’ but nothing. He just continued to stared and said,

“Hmmm I thought it sounded Antivan.” She smirked glad for the levity.

“He left as quickly as he came but I wasn’t upset then not really. We’d meet up now and then and.....it was like no time had passed at all.” Varric smiles softly at her and it was only then Isabela realized she’d been smiling at the memories. “But then this time I felt like I was meeting a stranger. Zevran lived an entire life away from me and it changed him....that hurt me more than I thought. That the warden had known him better than me.”

Silence passed between them as Isabela pursed her lips forcing back any tears that might slip. That had never been her intent she hadn’t considered something like this could happen, alcohol didn’t normally make her mopey.

“Well that’s enough of that.” She announced her smile not reaching her eyes as Varric studied them. “Your turn. Almost got me beat.” He regarded her with a strange combination of sympathy and contemplation, It unnerved her in a wonderfully exhilarating way. Regardless how this all turned out this hunt was indeed enjoyable.

“Bianca is all the company I need.” To someone else his face was utterly neutral not a single tell, yet she read him like one of his books taking a coin. “Hey! You didn’t even ask.” She didn’t falter smoothly rising to her feet.

“That’s because it’s a trick question and you know it.” She smirked moving to his side of the table. “A sweet lie you tell yourself but why I’m afraid I don’t know.” With a hop she sat on the tables edge her thighs resting where his hand had. The hand he’d moved in hopes of using to hide the small blush that crept on his face, she noted with a smirk.

“How about this then, last one for all the coins.” She offered taking his tankard and knocking back what was left with ease. “You can choose to think of it as one statement or two.” He finally looked back at her confused about her words.

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d loose?” She just grinned wickedly at him.

“Oh I can still win depending on your answer.” With a flick of the wrist her two coins rested on the bare flesh of her thigh.

“So here it is, I am genuinely interested in you and I made up this game purely to entice you.” It was said simply and plainly without any flair or smolder yet the dwarfs jaw seemed to drop for a moment.

He thrummed his fingers in thought beside her thigh. Isabela couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. Doubt maybe? Guilt perhaps? Whatever it was it had him reeling and left her nervous. She’d laid herself bare here, figuratively which was so much worse than literally.

It felt as though hours had passed in silence until she felt a warm calloused hand on her thigh.

“Truth?” He asked sweetly trying to hide his embarrassment should he guess wrong.

She smiled, and tipped his chin up to say, “Truth.” Before leaning down and capturing her prize. Oh yes, Isabela did so enjoy a good hunt and she’d savor this one.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU smut: Crashing

Chapter 6 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! Previous chapters are here: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] 

In which Fenris and Rynne stumble into bed together after a little too much tequila. 

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

Fenris kissed her the entire ride home, and Rynne felt like she was drowning in bliss.

He was eager and hungry, more hungry than she’d imagined he would be, and it was an extremely pleasant surprise. He was usually so reserved and still, but from the fierce quality of his touch, Rynne almost got the sense that he’d dropped some kind of barrier tonight. His hands were firm and strong and everywhere at once: tugging her hair and stroking her collarbone, sliding beneath her leather jacket to cradle the small of her back, then sliding along the side of her thigh as he pulled her across the seat toward him. Maybe it was the forced one-on-one time that had lowered his inhibitions, or maybe it was just the booze; hell, the tequila had certainly broken Rynne’s inhibitions and made her blather all kinds of unfiltered crap at him. Whatever it was, Rynne was fucking delighted.

He growled against her cheekbone as he squeezed her denim-clad thigh. “How much longer?” he demanded.

She craned her neck slightly to look out the window, then bit her lip as he leaned forward and nipped the side of her throat. “Um,” she said shakily, “it’s - it’s just, um. Another minute…”

Then his fingers were on her jaw, turning her face back toward him, and she happily gripped his shoulders and gave herself over to the firmness of his lips. Their driver let out a heavy and pointed sigh, but Fenris’s hands were hot at the nape of her neck and the dip of her waist, and she didn’t have any attention to spare for polite Uber decorum right now.

Finally the car came to a stop. “You’re ‘ere,” the driver drawled. “Don’t mind me. I’m just the driver.”

Rynne reluctantly peeled her lips away from Fenris’s, then smiled sheepishly at their gaunt-faced chauffeur. “Thanks, Samson. It’s been, er… I mean. Good driving! Yep. Thanks!” She slid out of the car with Fenris at her heels.

She slapped a hand over her mouth as she traipsed through the heavy glass doors of her building, then tapped her key fob to enter the foyer. “Poor guy,” she giggled. “I mean, I bet he sees that all the time, but still.” She hit the elevator button, then turned toward Fenris.

He snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her close, and Rynne giggled again as she stumbled against his chest. “Can I help you with something?” she said playfully.

“Yes,” he said. He gently kissed her once, then twice, then lightly tugged her lower lip with his teeth. “Take off your jacket,” he whispered.

She dreamily closed her eyes. One of his arms was tight around her waist, but the fingers of his free hand were tugging at the collar of her jacket. “You can’t wait until we get upstairs?” she murmured.

“I am perfectly capable of waiting,” he replied. “But I don’t want to.” He peeled her jacket away from one shoulder as the elevator door slid open, then walked her backwards into the elevator and penned her against the wall.

Rynne whimpered and pressed her hips toward him. His teeth were on her shoulder, nipping a line toward the tendon in her neck, and she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to fuck you right here,” she panted.

He lifted his chin, and Rynne shivered anew as he brushed his lips across her ear. “Would you rather I back away?” he murmured. “Stand politely beside you as the elevator brings us to your home?”

“You are awfully polite most of the time,” she replied cheekily. Then she tensed in breathless anticipation as his hand slipped under the hem of her top.

His tongue traced the unpierced edge of her ear. “Not tonight,” he whispered. “I am not in in the mood to be polite tonight.”

She pressed her lips together and whimpered in response. His palm was flat on her belly, a solid and teasing heat that sat just above the waistband of her jeans, and it was almost more than she could bear.

The elevator finally reached the penthouse floor, and Rynne slid away from him and practically ran down the short corridor to the door of their condo. She unlocked the door with trembling hands, then pushed it open and let herself in.

“Let’s be quiet-” she started to say, but Fenris’s hand was on the small of her back - no, it was sliding around her waist and up inside her shirt again, oh fuck - and then he pulled her back against his chest and pressed his mouth to her ear, and Rynne couldn’t breathe.

“Who’s home?” he whispered.

She inhaled shakily and arched into his hand. The tips of his fingers were burrowing into the cup of her bra. “Ah…”

“Hawke. Who is home?” he repeated, quietly but firmly.

“I don’t know,” she blurted. “Maybe - maybe Merrill…?” Frankly, she didn’t give a fuck who was home. If Fenris told her he wanted to bend her over naked on the kitchen counter while Isabela watched, she wasn’t sure she would refuse.

He grunted and bit the side of her neck, then released her and gently pushed her hip. “Lead the way,” he whispered. “I enjoy following you.”

She stumbled slightly in the dark as she weaved her way toward the stairs, then grinned over her shoulder at him. “Are you an ass man, then? Is that what you’re saying?” She tossed her purse on the couch and kicked off her boots, then started up the stairs.

He followed her to the top of the stairs, and Rynne yelped when he suddenly cupped her ass. “I am a man who enjoys every asset I see,” he replied smoothly. “And I see many assets tonight.”

She covered her mouth to stifle her giddy laughter and pushed open the door to her room. “Such a smooth talker,” she whispered. She tapped on her bedside lamp, then turned to him with a grin.  “What else can you tell me in that gorgeous smooth voice of yours?”

He closed the door behind them and raised one eyebrow. “I can tell you that I want you naked,” he said matter-of-factly.

Rynne forced herself to take a breath. His tone was light and playful, but his eyes - those beautiful, brilliant green eyes of his… They were fixed on her face, steady and serious, and suddenly Rynne wondered if he was as drunk as she’d originally thought.

He was watching her still, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, and the longer he looked at her, the more sober she felt… and the more strongly the thrum of excitement in her groin began to pulse.

She shucked off her jacket and let it slide to the floor, and Fenris’s eyebrows rose in approval. He took a step closer to her. “Go on,” he said.

She gathered the hem of her cami in her hands, then peeled it over her head in one smooth motion and tossed it aside, and Fenris took another slow step toward her. She kept her eyes on his face as she unfastened her bra, then dropped it on the floor.

He was right in front of her now, a mere few inches away, and his eyes were smoldering with focus as they drifted over her bare breasts. He lifted a hand and brushed his thumb very gently beneath her nipple.

Rynne hissed in a breath, and Fenris released a slow exhale. “Hawke,” he whispered. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met.”

His fingers were carefully stroking her breast in an almost thoughtful caress, and Rynne swallowed hard. “How so?” she said hoarsely.

He chuckled softly, and she almost melted at the cherished sound. “Do you wish me to list all the ways?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and managed a cheeky smile. “Will you sing me the list?” she said coyly. “That’s what I’d really like to hear.”

“Ah. This again,” he grumbled, and Rynne grinned as he pursed his lips. Then she lost her breath again as his hands drifted low to tug at the fly of her jeans. “Perhaps you should sing for me, instead.”

She shrugged in a would-be casual manner as he unbuttoned her jeans. “Sure,” she said. “I’d be happy to the next time we’re at the Hanged Ma-”

She gasped as he slid his hand into her pants. “That’s not what I meant,” Fenris whispered.

Rynne convulsively grabbed his shoulders. “Oh Maker,” she whined. His fingers were stroking her sex, caressing her sensitive folds as his middle finger slipped into the slickness of her cleft to press gently against her clit, and Rynne couldn’t stop herself from rolling her hips toward the heat of his careful hand.

She released a needy little mewl as Fenris played the pad of his finger across her swollen clit. Then his hand slipped out of her pants, and she gasped in desperation at the abandonment.

He roughly shoved her pants down, then pushed her down onto the bed and slid her legs apart. His elegant palms were hot on her skin, and his forest-green eyes were fixed on the juncture of her thighs, and when he licked his lips, her already-vibrating excitement surged to a fever pitch.

“Please,” she blurted. “Fenris, please-”

He lowered his face without a word, and Rynne cried out as he lavished her sex with a ravenous open-mouthed kiss. She fell bonelessly back onto the mattress and pleadingly lifted her hips, and when Fenris obliged her by firmly slicking his tongue between her legs, she arched toward him with a pleasured cry.

“Andraste’s sweet fucking tits,” she gasped.

He lifted his face briefly and looked up at her. “I would hazard a guess that yours are sweeter still.”

She burst out a breathless little laugh. “Fuck’s sake, Fenris, how are you so fucking smooth - oh Maker!” She sobbed in ecstasy as he dropped his lips between her thighs once more and curled his tongue around her clit.

She writhed and twisted her hips toward his face. It all just felt so fucking good: his hands clasping her hips as he tasted her pussy, and the look of his shoulders looming between her legs, and even the fact that he was fully clothed while she was stark naked was shoving her lust higher still. Rynne was vulnerable and bare, bare of skin and bare of soul, and Fenris was treating her so carefully, lapping at her heated center with such an exquisite touch, and somehow she just knew that the care he was giving to her body was the same care he would lavish on her heart.

She closed her eyes and spread her legs even wider. The weight of her pleasure was growing, becoming heavier and vibrating with increasing fervour. She clenched her fists in the blankets and held her breath, every scrap of attention focused on the heat and wetness of Fenris’s mouth, and when he finally brought her to her peak, it pulsed through the tips of her fingers and toes with all the crystalline delicacy of a shattering glass of wine.

She arched her back and gasped. “Fenris!” she cried.

His fingers gripped her hips as he continued to lap at her pussy, and she shuddered beneath him until the sensation was too exquisite to bear. She reached down and stroked his chin, and when he lifted his face, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

She wiped at the sheen on his chin with her thumb. “You take off your fucking clothes now,” she demanded.

He fixed her with a heated stare, then pushed himself to his feet and started pulling off his jacket, and Rynne shifted to a sitting position to watch him.

His hands were deliberate and careful as they pulled his jacket off. He neatly lay his jacket on her dressing table, and Rynne bit her lower lip in fascination as she inspected his arms.

The white lines of his tattoos flowed up his wrists and forearms and into the sleeves of his black T-shirt. With a jolt of interest, she realized that one of her most burning questions about him was about to be answered.

She watched with heightened anticipation as he lifted his hands to the collar of his black T-shirt. But then he hesitated, and through the roiling storm of her lust, Rynne noticed something odd: he wasn’t looking at her.

He was frowning slightly, in fact. A pang of concern penetrated the haze of her desire, and she frowned as well. “Fenris, are you okay?”

He met her eyes, and Rynne held her breath. His face was serious again, serious and deeply thoughtful, and she wasn’t really sure why.

She opened her mouth to ask, but in a brisk, rough motion, Fenris fisted his hands in the back of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Rynne’s eyes widened in shock. His chest - oh, that gorgeous lean muscled chest, the abs, the fucking arms, Maker’s balls - all of it was covered in intricate white lines, lines that twisted and twined down across the leanness of his waist and into the waistband of his trousers.

It was true, then. The tattoos must cover his entire body. His chest, his arms, his… his thighs…?

A sudden ripple of goosebumps ran down her arms as she realized something. Holy fuck, she thought. She had a tattoo herself, a pattern of twisting black lines that spanned her back from her left shoulder down to her left ribs, and getting that done had hurt like hell. How much would it have hurt for him to get such intricate tattoos across his entire body?

She hauled her gaze back up to his face. His chin was slightly lifted and his expression was completely neutral and… and cold.

Rynne swallowed hard, then gave him a teasing half-smile. “Trying to show me up, are you?” she said playfully. She rose to her knees, then turned around and sank slowly onto her heels as she coyly lifted her tattooed left shoulder.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and smiled. “I daresay it’s not the same,” he said. “But I’m more fond of yours than I am of mine.”

His voice was soft and wry, and a little leap of relief peaked in her chest at the hint of humour in his tone. She slid off the bed, then sauntered toward him. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m pretty fond of my tattoo.” She reached for the button-fly of his trousers.

He breathed in slowly, and Rynne bit her lip in anticipation as his abs tensed against the tips of her fingers. “I… I like yours, as well,” he breathed.

She smiled impishly at him. “You said that already,” she teased, then dropped to her knees and pulled his trousers down.

His cock sprang free as his trousers hit the floor, and Rynne eyed the proud rise of his erection with shameless appreciation. Fuck yes, she thought, and she ran her tongue swiftly from the tip of his cock to the base.

Fenris exhaled heavily, then cupped the nape of her neck as she brushed her lips along his hardened length. “Hawke,” he begged.

She hummed against his skin as he clumsily kicked off his boots. He smelled so damned good, like soap and leather, and she happily nuzzled his balls as she inhaled his scent.

He groaned, and his fingers slid into her hair. “Festis bei umo canavarum,” he breathed.

She looked up at him curiously. “Ooh. What does that mean?”

He panted with increasing ardour as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. “It means ‘you will be the death of me’,” he replied, then groaned more insistently as she squeezed his cock.

She laughed throatily as she stroked his length. “Little deaths, maybe,” she purred, then abruptly took his cock into her mouth.

“Ah - Hawke-!” He gasped her name, and his fingers briefly tightened in her hair before going slack and stroking the angle of her jaw. Rynne smiled to herself - not literally, of course, her lips being otherwise occupied - then lifted herself higher on her knees and angled her head to take him deeper.

He shuddered against her lips, and she splayed her palms on the hardness of his thighs. Mm, he tasted so good, like clean fresh skin and salt, and he smelled so sweet and his cock felt so nice in her throat, and she could only imagine how nice it was going to be to have his steely length pushing inside of her.

She whimpered helplessly around his cock. The tingling feeling of her climax lingered still between her legs, and she could feel the slickness of his mouth and her own desperate desire coating the insides of her thighs, and fuck, she wanted him so fucking badly…

She suckled his cock more voraciously and dug her fingers into his thighs, and Fenris moaned and stroked his fingers through her hair. “Hawke,” he gasped, “stand up, I - I need to feel you.”

She nodded eagerly, then released his cock from her greedy lips and rose to her feet. Fenris kicked his pants away, then surged toward her.

She stumbled back in surprise at his sudden approach. He palmed her breast in one hand and ran his other thumb across her lips, and Rynne instinctively darted her tongue out to taste his thumb.

His own lips fell open as he stared her mouth, and she stared back at him with a fresh surge of mind-numbing excitement as his expression twisted into something fierce and hot. He grabbed her hip and pushed her back toward the bed, and suddenly she was on her back, and Fenris was between her legs and half-crawling, half-lifting her higher on the mattress.

She hastily reached over to the bedside table and pulled a condom out of the drawer, and Fenris grabbed it gracelessly from her hand. Then he was kissing her and cradling her neck in the heat of his palm, and Rynne snatched the condom back from him and rolled it onto his length with shaking hands, and then - fuck, and then his cock was sliding between her legs, sliding teasingly along the length of her cleft and caressing her clit.

Rynne was lost. She was helpless, floating beneath the heat of his body as he rubbed himself against her and stroked his tongue into her mouth, and -

“Oh fuck,” she gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at his face as he carefully pressed the head of his cock against her entrance. His eyes were wide and fixed on hers, his eyebrows tilted in an expression just as desperate and wanting as the look she was sure was on her face.

She tilted her chin up pleadingly and curled her hips toward him. “Kiss me,” she begged.

He cradled her cheek in his palm. “As you wish,” he murmured. Slowly, so torturously slowly, he lowered his face to hers.

His lips brushed across her own as he slid his cock slowly inside of her, and Rynne moaned shamelessly into his mouth as he stretched and filled her up bit by bit. He groaned into her open lips as he sheathed himself inside of her, and then they were breathing and moving together, his pleasured breaths keeping her afloat as she lifted her hips to meet his every careful thrust.

He fucked her slow and hard, his every thrust seeming to reach so deep inside of her that she couldn’t help but moan into his panting mouth. She was wrapped in his arms, his one hand in her hair and the other beneath her back, and the wiry strength of his shoulders beneath her roaming palms was so damned precious…

No, everything about this moment was precious. As Fenris moved inside of her and gasped his pleasure against her lips, Rynne realized just how badly she’d wanted this. This was not just an act of sex, an expulsion of desire and hedonistic want. Their bodies were close, pressed together in the most intimate way that two bodies could be joined, but she felt… Maker’s balls, she felt more close to Fenris than she had to any other partner in the past. This carnal act, this crashing of pleasure and lust and twisting bodies, it was so much more than anything she’d ever had before. Here in this bed with this dark and impassioned man looming over her, she somehow felt more filled than she’d ever been.

Her heart was beating so hard. She wondered if Fenris could feel it through her skin. She wondered if he could hear it through her ribs. Then he lifted himself onto his elbows, and the rhythm of his hips began to slow.

Rynne opened her eyes, and for the umpteenth time, her breath stalled in her chest. Fenris was gazing down at her so intently. In the cozy half-light of her bedside lamp, his brilliant eyes were so clear and bright and transparent, and she fancied that she could practically see herself reflected in his eyes.

“I knew it,” she said.

“Knew what?” he breathed. He moved inside of her once more.

She arched into his body with a gasp as he thrust into her again.  “I knew you saw me,” she moaned.

His hips grew still once more. “What do you mean?”

Rynne wiggled her hips pleadingly. Fenris followed her cue with another long, slow thrust, and she gripped his arms and moaned.

“When you were being a dick the other day,” she breathlessly explained. “You - I knew you didn’t mean it. You’re just used to being on your own. I knew that was why.”

He breathed heavily and didn’t reply, then groaned as she lifted her hips to meet his cock. “Hawke,” he panted, “I never… I did not think I needed anyone, or wanted anyone. Until now.”

A bloom of happiness unfurled in her belly, lifting her pleasure to an even greater height than it already was. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so his chest was flush to hers. “Everyone needs someone,” she whispered. “For what it’s worth, that’s how I feel about you.”

Fenris breathed slowly through his lips. His eyes were squeezed shut, and Rynne slowly tilted her chin up to brush his lips with hers.

“Enough talk. Now fuck me hard,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes. She could feel his breathing growing deep and fast beneath her arms. Then he lifted his hips and slammed himself deep.

She threw her head back into the pillows. “Fuck!” she cried.

His arms snaked beneath her again, and he thrust into her hard once more, and then he was fucking her so hard and fast that she could barely be bothered to breathe.

She sank her nails into his shoulder blades, and he gasped and bit the junction of her shoulder and her neck, and Rynne cried out again. His arms were so tight around her, and his cock was so fucking hard and smooth as it stroked her pleasure forth, and when he suddenly cried out and bit her shoulder hard, she released his name to the ceiling in a praise-filled cry.

Fenris shuddered against her chest, his arms tensing even more tightly around her body as he whimpered into her skin, and Rynne released a breathy little laugh.

His body gradually stilled, and he slowly lifted his mouth from her shoulder. “I hope that is a good laugh,” he said.

She grinned as he lifted himself from her body, then flopped onto his side beside her. “It definitely is,” she assured him. “If it was a bad laugh, you would know. Everyone in this house would know.”

Fenris scoffed, then stroked her hip as she rolled onto her side to face him. “I suppose I will take that as a compliment,” he said.

She grinned at him, then reached down to remove his condom. “You definitely should,” she said. She tied the condom off and casually tossed it beside the bed.

He chuckled and shook his head at her careless actions, and Rynne smiled as she snuggled closer to him. “So. Now what?” she whispered.

His stroking hand grew still for a moment, then slid up her back to caress the back of her neck. His smiling face grew pensive, and Rynne fell quiet as she studied his face in return.

He’s perfect, she thought. However much of an accident it had been for her to admit it, the words she’d told him on the balcony during the party were true: he was perfect, perfect in all his multifaceted glory: he was beautiful and gruff, thoughtful and snappish, smart as hell and generous in bed, and…

No. Don’t go there, she thought. It was too soon to think she loved him. Definitely way too soon to say it.

She nibbled her lip and traced his pointed ear with her fingers. Then he carefully tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear. “Roll over,” he whispered.

She smiled and obeyed his request, and her smile grew wider still as he shuffled closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. His chest was hot against her back and his breath was warm on her neck, and as she drifted off to sleep blanketed in the heat of his body, her last thought was that this had been the best night of her life.

But when Rynne woke the next morning, Fenris was gone.

[montpahrnah]

the lovely @crawledoutofthesea tagged me in this fun fiction meme <3<3

fictional characters you relate to?

i think i relate most strongly to my perception of/characterization of characters i write in fic, so:  sirius black and isabela, definitely. also ginny weasley, or at least the way i write ginny... 

book you can read over and over without getting tired of?

cat’s cradle, geek love, the english patient, good morning midnight, a season in hell/all of rimbaud’s poetry, the spy who came in from the cold, some of siri hustvedt’s essays and brautigan’s short stories and poems, white is for witching

what’s your favorite comfort show/movie?

the golden girls lol, also the great british bake off (i watched a few episodes while i was sick and still have a crush on the scottish girl from season three). black mirror too, mostly for its episodic structure. for movies:  sense and sensibility (imo austen’s books make better tv/film adaptations than books and i’m shocked no one has spun some wild conspiracy theory that she was a time traveler who Knew), wuthering heights, hunt for the wilderpeople, mccabe and mrs. miller, fargo, my beautiful laundrette... lord of the rings too but i usually have to do other stuff while i watch or else my ass goes numb

which fictional character are you most defensive over?

i don’t know about a particular character! fandom’s puritanical attitudes toward female characters and ESPECIALLY f/f (to be fair i do think there’s more going on here than just fandom, but that’s a very long, entirely separate post) is an endless source of frustration for me and makes me a tad defensive of writing women the way i do. i like them sloppy.

show you fell out of love with?

i have a weird love/hate relationship with television in general because i often don’t have the patience to finish a series or even watch more than an episode or two unless i multitask while i watch. i’m not like that at all with movies so idk what my problem is. anyway i fell out of love with orange is the new black definitely. stranger things i guess, but i was never in love with it. i didn’t love the new season of twin peaks and re-watching the second season (or trying to) reminded me that it’s almost bad enough to poison the whole thing (sorry! the last episode makes up for like 5% of it tho)

show you’re most excited for?

looking forward to checking out killing eve (HA) and kiiiiinda want to check out true detective. and maybe finish due south someday

what’s your aesthetic?

no idea how to answer this! i see that people thought in terms of writing and characters who are personal style icons... in terms of writing i guess the ideal for me is a vague sense of unease and overlong sentences that read kinda like an acid trip if i knew what an acid trip was like, all overstuffed with bulldozer Feelings. but i’m trying to be way less loud/indulgent about that.

in terms of personal style i have no idea. maybe morrigan for her fondness of necklaces and wearing a black bra under everything.

favorite fanfic tropes?

FRIENDS TO LOVERS!!!! honestly is there anything else. also was talking to @crawledoutofthesea about needing a word for going from not sure you like this asshole to friends to lovers. suffocating pining and yearning that makes me feel like my chest is collapsing. my ultimate is probably when this is all at the center of a fraught getting back together story! having said that i also dearly enjoy miserable not getting back together stories.

i like bed sharing but only when it’s not too cheesy... also hurt/comfort that doesn’t turn into syrupy ultra fluff and casual hookups growing feelings. not exactly a trope but i also love really r e a l l y intense sex

tagging @yeats-infection @mondriankite @zeiat @obiwoman @fireferns @chocochipbiscuit @piovascosimo @sqvalors @todisturbtheuniverse @ebparentheses @toyhto and anyone else who wants to/if you want to <3

[araglas1989-writing]

Wicked Grace

“For the last time - I am not playing strip Wicked Grace!” – Fenris said, his expression showing his distaste.

 For the past several minutes, Isabela had been trying to convince him to play this new version of Wicked Grace. Everyone else present; namely Merrill, Anders, Hawke and of course Varric, had already agreed to it, and yet Fenris still refused.

"Oh come on Sweet thing, you are such a beautiful man. You absolutely need to join us!" The pirate seductively purred whilst leaning over the table shamelessly giving Fenris a good look at her breasts.

For a moment, she managed to get Fenris distracted. She was a beautiful woman after all. Still, the elf gathered himself quickly and looked away from her cleavage, snorting.

"Still no." Even though he was not blind to her charms, he knew that she wasn't what he was looking for. She was a player, but Fenris needed a keeper.

  "Give it up, Rivaini. Broody just hasn't got the balls for this kind of game", Varric intervened with a smug smile whilst shuffling the cards.

Fenris raised an eyebrow at the remark. "You cannot manipulate me that easily, dwarf."

 Varric simply shrugged.

 "Was worth a try" He replied, a smug smile on his lips.

  "Please, Fenris. Just one game!" Hawke gave his best puppy eyes at the Elf who faltered for a moment, but then he shook his head. "I will not play strip Wicked Grace!"

  When Isabela wanted to argue further, Anders sighed in frustration

  "Just give it up and let’s play! I, for sure don't want to see the prickly Elf naked, thank you very much."

  The Warrior turned at him with a sneer "As if anyone wants to see your bony body!"

  "Ha! I just knew you two were scrubbing each other’s decks" she winked at them with a broad smile. "Ohhh let me watch, yes? Please, please!"

  "What?! Are you kidding me? Me and that mage hater? No way. He wouldn't touch me even if his life depended on it. Neither do I want him to." Anders grimaced. Really, what was that woman thinking? He shook his head as he glanced at the Elf.

  "I hate it, but this time I have to agree with the mage." Fenris took a deep gulp of his ale.

  "How do you know that he is 'bony' beneath his clothes? " She defiantely crossed her arms before her body.

  Fenris raised an eyebrow, glancing at her and then looked at the others, but all of them gave him only confused and bewildered looks.

  "Really?" He shook his head, nodding towards Anders. "Has nobody noticed that his cheeks are too hollow? His cheekbones are too pointy and for weeks he has had balance problems when he wields his staff too fast? Also, when he eats here, he eats slower on purpose to hide how hungry he is." Again he watched everyone. "Not that I care, but he obviously doesn't eat enough. How has nobody other than me noticed it?"

  "And why have you noticed it?" Hawke's voice sounded curious but also a bit sulky because the Warrior hadn't mentioned anything sooner. Also because he failed to notice these things himself. What a good friend I am...

  "He is a mage and an abomination. I keep an eye on him closely. On all mages, if I am honest." Again he took a sip of his mug, while casting his gaze down. When he put down his mug he shrugged. " To be entirely truthfull, I know everyone’s weaknesses. I was a bodyguard. I'm trained to find potential hazards and weaknesses..." Even without seeing them Fenris could feel that the others were uncomfortable with his remark and all its implications.

  "That sounds like you plan on fighting us..." Hawke's voice sounded wary and unsure.

  "No! It is simply a habit." He paused a moment, drinking more of his ale whilst his gaze was cast down. Fenris couldn't bear to look at anyone in the eyes. "But as an escaped slave and accompanied by mages, I never can be too sure what comes next..."

  "So you what you are telling us is that you’re just waiting for the day when we’ll betray you?" huffed Hawke "Do you really think we would do that? After four years and many encounters with hunters? After all I have told you..."

  For a moment it seemed like Fenris wanted to melt into his chair, but then he straightened his back and lift his gaze. Not enough to look into the gold brown eyes of their leader, but enough that Fenris could see his beard and lips. "It is no secret that I am no friend of mages. And while I admit that I deeply respect you, I do not think that I will ever think otherwise. So it is only a matter of time till you, or one of the other mages will find you have had enough of me. Also, I do not know at which point my bounty will be high enough to tempt the rogues." This time he looked in Isabela's direction without meeting her gaze.

  The silence hung heavily between them. "You really got some nerve, Elf" this time it was Anders who was speaking up with a deep growl.  "That you don’t trust me I understand, I'm everything you hate. That you don’t trust Merrill, I also understand but Hawke? He may be a Mage but has always been on your side! And don't forget that you could also turn at us any moment … but we still trust you! One word to Meredith and all of us would be locked away. So tell me, when will you betray us?"

  Fenris looked at him. Really looked at him. It was odd but somehow Anders was the only person he could look into the eyes and hold its gaze without any difficulty. His eyes wandered over the grim face of the Mage, taking in every emotion that showed so plainly on his face. The Warrior had always wondered how Anders could be like that. Maybe this was the reason why he didn't believe much of what Anders told him about the circle. How could it be so unbearable there if it did not change the blondes’ good and open hearted attitude?

  "If I told Meredith about you, you would be made tranquil or be killed. Merrill would surely be killed and Hawke I would assume they would want to take him alive but he would not go without a fight. So I think, he would also turn either tranquil or dead. So I think that after all we have been through, if anyone is going to kill any of you, I owe it to you to do it myself." The Warrior emptied his mug and ordered some wine. Then he returned his attention to the others. "Not that I cherish the thought. I would rather not be forced to kill any of you" Again his gaze went to Anders. "Not even you, although I admit it is tempting at times..."

  "Owe us... Do you only think about who owes who? How will you ever truly be free when you don’t understand the meaning of friendship? It doesn't matter what happens, there is no way I would let any of you down! I always will fight for you, kill for you even die for all of you!" Hawke's voice was determined, honest and fierce.

  Fenris shifted, uncomfortable, gaze casted down again. "I... I have never..." he paused and looked somehow miserable and stoic at once. After several minutes of silence he just shrugged.

  "Thank you."

  The warrior wanted to tell them that he had only ever people he could consider friends once, but back then he was the traitor. Fenris wanted to tell them, that since then he had realised what he had instinctively known to be true as a slave, namely that betrayal may happen at any time And he just wanted to be ready incase it did happen. Also the Warrior desperately wanted them to realise, that he also could easily be the traitor...

  But then again... This was the first time Fenris belonged somewhere without belonging to someone so he didn't want them to fear him. He didn't want to fear them. They were all so incredibley trusting. It was both endearing and painfully frightening. It seemed to him as if betrayal was beyond their imagining.

  Isabela sighed inwardly at the change in atmosphere in the room. Personally she didn't mind Fenris' implication that she might sell him out. Honestly she would feel more offended if he wouldn't even consider this possibility.  She was, after all a pirate and thief and proud of it. Still this atmosphere was counterproductive for the game she had planned for this night. "Speaking of sneaky elves" Isabela winked at Fenris and snatched the cards out of Varric's hands, shuffling them further while starting to tell her story.

  "Did I ever tell you about my encounter with that damn hot crow? He came at night to assassinate my... lover that evening.  At first, I thought he was going to  kill me too since I was a witness, but instead we ended up having the most amazing sex I had had till then. Later I saw him again in Denerim  and had a threesome with no other than the Hero of Ferelden himself..."

  Anders perked up: "Wait, are you speaking of Zevran? I never met him personally, but the Hero of Ferelden was head over heels in love with him!"

  Isabela laughed while dealing everyone, even the warrior, in. "Exactly him. I think I have a little dangerous elf kink" Again she winked at Fenris.

  Without thinking Fenris took the cards, inwardly grateful for the change of subject. He only remembered what kind of card game it was when the first round was over and Merrill was the one with the worst hand so she needed to undress. She decided to remove her scarf.

  A bit upset he turned to Isabela. "You tricked me!"

  She shrugged and grinned mercilessly. "Either you continue to play with us or you leave. We will not put on a show for you while you stay dressed" She winked at him, shuffling cards and dealing them all in again. The Elf only huffed and decided to play along. He didn't want to leave. Not after the heavy words they had had before. It was certainly better to raise every ones mood first.

  ~

  The reason why Fenris didn't want to play, was not, because he would be ashamed. No slave had a sense of shame, that was only for free people. No, he feared his appearance could intimidate or disgust the others. But Fenris learned quickly that rather the opposite was the case. Also he realized that everyone in their group had some kind of scar. So after some rounds and much booze he felt comfortable and even enjoyed the game. Especially his bickering with Anders which was something between teasing and insulting. But it seemed to have the right balance since the Mage grinned now and then.

  ~

  The game went on and on. The booze flowed freely and it was a jolly atmosphere. It was already early in the morning and only Fenris and Anders were still playing. Fenris still wore his breeches, whilst Anders was down to his smalls.  He indeed was quite bony and could use some decent meals. Just like Fenris had said.

  Isabela had lost suspiciously often. As the elf threw a side glance at her he wondered with a wine fogged mind if she had done this on purpose to have an excuse to get naked in front of them. Now she was half dressed again and asleep with her head on the table, snoring quietly. Hawke and Merrill had left about an hour ago, so only Varric was still present, dealing them the cards.

  "So you still will not give up?" The elf asked scornfully. The Warrior was either glancing at his cards or looking at Anders with a sneer and mild distaste.

  "Never" the Mage answered with the same amount of taunting and facing Fenris with a matching sneer.

  "If you give up you could at least keep some dignity" He grinned wickedly casting his gaze a bit down where he noticed some time ago that Anders had an erection before his gaze returned to the face of the mage.

  Somehow, Anders managed to not blush, looked at Varric wondering if he noticed something, but the dwarf sat on the other side of the table appearing very tired.

  "Don't babble and show me your hand. I drew the Angel of Death"

  Both showed their cards and Anders lost again. He saw the broad grin of Fenris.

  "You loose, Mage" he called triumphantly.

  But Anders shot a grin back, as he just remembered that he still wore his hear tie. He pulled it out and ran his hands through his hair to untangle it.

  Fenris’ breath hitched at the sight. For a moment his face lost the sneer and the look of distaste he’d been wearing. With his hair down, Anders' face didn't look as hollow as before. It flattered his features and for few seconds Fenris forgot that he disliked the Mage deeply. But he quickly composed himself again.

  "Dwarf deal in a new round."

  "No" Varric yawned, "call it a draw and stop it. I'm exhausted. So please just get dressed and go."

  Both threw an unamused gaze at the rogue but then nodded.

  Fenris stood first and grabbed Ander’s coat, throwing it at the mage before he began dressing. Anders quickly covered his erection with it, giving the warrior a grateful look which Fenris did not see.

  ~

  Outside in the fresh air Fenris suddenly felt the wine hit him like a hammer. Frowning he stumbled forward, but Anders quickly caught him, steadying him.

   "Easy there. Everything ok?"

  Fenris breathed deeply, in and out three times before he pulled away.

  "Yes."

  "Ok then... Good night" Anders began making his way to the nearest entry to Darktown but after several steps he stopped, noticing that the Elf was following him. "Uhm Fenris? What are you doing?"

  "Walking you home."

  "You are the drunk one. I'm perfectly sober and can defend myself."

  "No" the Warrior said stubbornly.

  Anders sighed. "You don't even like me so why would you want to walk me home?" Except maybe for some hot sex? As if...

  Anders really had enjoyed seeing the always so stoic Elf half naked. And if he was honest with himself, he had fantasised many times what would happen if Fenris lost his control in a good way. In a pleasurably way...

  "True. But we are still a team and have each other’s back."

  "That's... really nice" the Healer seemed surprised at this statement. "But that leaves us in a stalemate. Because by that logic it also means I have to walk you back, since you are far from sober, and then you would need to walk me back and so on. The only solution would be that either you stay at my clinic or I stay at your mansion..."

  Fenris stared at Anders, considering. With his wine fogged brain this was really hard work. Finally he shrugged.

  "My mansion then."

He turned and walked away only to stop, when the other didn't follow but just gaped at him.

  "Come on, I'm getting tired."

  Together they walked through Lowtown to Hightown till Anders followed Fenris into his home.

  I've never been here without Hawke. Anders thought worriedly. He hadn't thought that the Elf would agree, he just wanted Fenris to reconsider walking him home. Now he didn't know what to do. What did Fenris expect from him? Anders noticed that he was left in the hallway with those creepy corpses and hurried to follow the Warrior again.

  "Uhm... and... what now?"

  Fenris went straight to his bed, Anders already forgotten. He huffed annoyed. "You either sleep on the floor, I might add that I have rats, or you join me. The bed is big enough."

  Anders hesitated but then decided to join the elf. I can't believe he invites me into his bed. Not for sex… But still... He lay down next to Fenris, who already appeared to be asleep and turned his back to him. Since Anders was sober it took him some time to get used to the others presence but finally his tiredness and the softness of the bed lulled him into sleep.

  ~

  Later, as the sun began rise, a noise stirred Fenris from sleep. He’d only slept for a couple of hours and was so very tired, then there was a whining noise behind him once more.

  Fenris almost leaped out of bed when he saw Anders laying behind him, obviously having a nightmare.

Why is he in my bed?...

Anders jerked and made a distressed noise and before Fenris knew what he was doing, he’d pulled the mage closer, combing the human’s hair with his fingers.

  “Hush” Murmured Fenris softly.

  Anders calmed almost instantly, and Fenris lay his head back down on the pillow to rest, his body flush against the mages back...He was so very tired...

  ~

  Several hours later it was Anders who woke up first. Eyes still closed, he stretched a little but stopped as soon as he realized that there was an arm holding him and a body beneath him. His heart started to beat fast, a moment of fear rushing through his veins when he opened his eyes. First he noticed that his cheek was resting on a warm chest, rising and falling with the breath of the other. Next he became aware of the lyrium tattoos etched into a lean but strong arm.

  Oh Maker I'm laying in Fenri’s bed in his arms. How by Andraste's tits did this happen? He will surely kill me! What should I do, what should I do?

  Panic seeped through him whilst he stayed perfectly still to not wake Fenris. Breath! Anders told himself. Instinctively his breathing matched the elfs’. After a few minutes the healer managed to push his panic aside. Slowly, he turned his head till he could see the face of his bedfellow.

  I never saw him with such a relaxed face. He is really a handsome man... A handsome man who could easily kill me if he finds me in this position!... But he is holding me not the other way around so it's his fault, isn't it? And he invited me to his bed... but that will most likely not matter to him... But if I try to sneak out of his hug he will surely wake up...

  All his thinking came to a stop when suddenly Fenris eyes opened.

  Fenris groaned. I should known by now not to drink that much of the filth they serve in the Hanged Man. He thought regretfully because of the hangover he had. He blinked in irritation when he noticed Anders, but instead of trying to hurt him or at least to let the healer go Fenris just stared at him.

  Anders was staring back. After some time with nothing happening, the mage dared to speak out.

  "Headache? If you want..." He raised his hand, which had laid at Fenris chest, and moved his fingers promisingly.

The warrior kept his silence a moment longer then he nodded slightly. "Maybe then I will remember why you are in my bed."

  Anders moved his hand to lay it at Fenris' temple pushing healing magic carefully in his skull. "You invited me..." He answered worriedly.

  Fenris raised one eyebrow. "I invited you?"

  "Uhm yes. You wanted to walk me home and I told you that you would also need to be walked home since you were really drunk and that the only solution would be, that either you stay with me or I with you. So you decided I should come with you and offered for me to sleep with you in your bed since you have rats... I don't know why you are holding me, though." He explained as fast and clear as he could.

  Still the Warrior stared at the human. Slowly very slowly his memory came back. "Ah yes. And you had a nightmare. You woke me up."

  "Oh... sorry about that..." He fell silent again. This is so surreal! Since when is he so calm and understanding? Since when does he accept magic and my help? And why... "Why are you still holding me?"

  The elf immediately let go of Anders. After the other had made some space between them, Fenris got up, stretching and slightly moaning when his back cracked. He absently ran his fingers through his hair, repairing his bed hair to his normal hairstyle. Finally the Warrior turned to Anders.

  "Breakfast?"

            The healer somewhat regretted having mentioned that Fenris had still been holding him causing Fenris to let go of him. It had felt really nice to be held, but of course had his irritation to destroy this moment. Now he was watching Fenris stretching and flexing his muscles. The soft moan shot an electricity bolt down to Anders' groin so he decided to get up and grab his coat. Anders paused while getting dressed. "What?"

  "I asked, if you wanted breakfast" now Fenris' voice sounded slightly annoyed. He frowned when the other only gaped at him. "What?"

  "You... just yesterday you told all of us how much you distrust us, then you invited me for a sleep over. You were drunk then so it was weird but still acceptable. But you are sober now so what the hell has happened to you?"

  The warrior stared at the human because Anders was right, his behavior was really strange. His gaze turned inwards while he tried to figure out what had changed. I feel... well rested. Fenris looked out of the window, measuring where the sun stood. It is approximately one hour after midday so I have slept.... His eyebrows shot up and he stared at Anders. "Maybe because it is the first time I slept longer than my usual four to five hours..." Since he could think he couldn't remember sleeping so much and so good as he had this night. No nightmares  hadwoken him up, even the pain of his markings were on a level he didn’t even consider as pain. All in all, Fenris felt relaxed like never before. Maybe I should keep him as a teddy bear, shot through his mind before he rejected the thought.

  "So the cure to you being grumpy is just giving you a sleep potion every night? I think I can do that!" Still quite unsure Anders closed the buckles of his coat. When he looked up again he found Fenris scowling at him. "Okay, okay no sleep potion then."

  He watched Anders getting dressed, an evil grin growing on his lips. "We did not finish our game yesterday, care to play again?"

  The healer raised one eyebrow. "Weren't you the one who didn't want to play?"

  "True. But I finish all my competitions. Besides I am sure you enjoyed the view" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Fenris felt playful today and wanted to savor this new feeling as long as he could. And why shouldn't he enjoy teasing the apostate?

  This time Anders blushed then cleared his voice.

  "I'm quite sure you enjoyed yourself too" he grinned "I think you liked my hair down, didn't you?" After that he shook his head. "I'm already late for my patients. I can't believe I slept in this long."

  "Tonight then?"

Anders paused. "Hanged Man or... just the two of us?" His heart began to beat loudly. Partly because it sounded like a promising event but also party because he feared a mood swing. Maybe Fenris just wants to humiliate me?

  "The two of us, here." confirmed the warrior.

Anders gulped. "Alright, tonight then." He left the room and the mansion fast. I'm such a fool. Tonight his foul mood will surely back and he will throw me out.

  ~

  When Anders came back to the mansion it was already late. Shortly after he had opened his clinic the word had spread and many patients came for healing.

But now stood in front of the door of Fenris’ Mansion, trying to muster the courage to go inside. He did not say until when I should come... But it's already late... I wish I was at home... but I said I would come. He was so nice after waking up, if I break my word now he surely will never try to be nice again...

  Anders shifted uncomfortabley, before he finally knocked and went in. "Fenris?" Nobody answered. For a moment Anders hesitated but then he went further, till he found Fenris by the fireplace. "I'm sorry that I'm late it was a very busy day..."

  Fenris sat there on his bench a table near to him with an empty wine bottle, two full bottles and the half empty bottle in his hand. He met Anders with a cold gaze. "I thought you were too much of a coward to come back."

  "Never. I was just busy. But if you want me to go..." Anders was not really that enthusiastic to stay when Fenris was in this mood, but he would not lose face by retreating.

  "Sit", Fenris drank a sip of wine then reached for the cards. He shuffled and dealt them out.

Anders sat down with a huff and took his cards. He lost the first round and stood to unbuckle his coat since it was quite hot thanks to the fire, but a hard voice stopped him.

  "Start with the tie"

  "But it's hot in here... yeah yeah okay!" Anders sat down again, when Fenris snarled at him, pulled his tie and ran his hands through his hair to untangle it. He is really bossy. This will be an awful night.

  The atmosphere was neither jolly like the night before nor easy like after waking up. It was dark and intense. Anders didn't dare to speak much since the elf was incredibley broody. The healer already lost his tie, coat, boots and socks whilst the warrior only lost his armor.

This time Fenris lost and removed his tunic, then shuffled the cards to deal again, but Anders had finally enough.

  "You know what? I give up! It's no fun like that!" The blonde stood up to retrieve his belongings.

  "We will finish this" Fenris’ growl sounded almost like the wolf after which he was named.

Anders winced, turning to Fenris with a scowl on his face.

"If you wanted me naked you don’t need this stupid game to to it!" Without hesitating he removed his shirt, his trousers and, after a short pause he also removed his smalls. "Happy now? So what? Want to laugh at me because of my poor physical condition? Tell me how ugly I am because of the scars and because I'm so skinny? Do you want to humiliate me by forcing me to go naked home? What?!"

  Fenris blinked in suprise as Anders started to undress himself. Slowly he stood up whilst the other yelled at him. He walked toward the mage and stood before him. The mage had just finished yelling, looking away as he finished. Fenris lift a hand and  and gently wiped away a tear on Anders’ cheek.

  "Hush" He said, his voice gentle and low. "I am not... I do not wish to humiliate you."

  Anders breathed deeply and nuzzled a slightly against the rough palm before he looked into those deep green eyes in front of him. "Then what do you want from me?" His voice trembled slightly,

  Fenris’ breath hitched. His thumb caressing over Anders' lower lip.

  " Everything you are willing to give me."

  For a moment the healer was silent, his gaze wandered over Fenris' face, taking in everything he saw, then he closed his eyes.

  "Will you be gentle?"

  "Yes"

  Anders opened his eyes again. "Then I'm willing to give everything you need."

  Fenris looked into Anders' eyes, before nodding. , His other hand runnind down Anders back till it lay at the small of the mages back, the hand at Anders' face caressed the mages’ lip one more time.

  "Let's go to my room."

[amercsmemoirs]

ZevWarden Week, Day 7: Commitment

OKAY this is quite late;;; my apologies. 

For Commitment Day, I’m posting Bésame! 

"Isabela?" 

Allura Mahariel looked up at Zevran Arainai, someone she was currently not on speaking terms with, and noted his surprised, awed expression. He looked the beautiful, charming, mystery woman up and down, and the woman returned his call with a warm smile. "Zevran! How long has it been?" Zevran sauntered up to this Isabela, standing annoyingly close to her as they laughed and talked. "Time has been kind to you, my friend," Zevran complimented her. "Such a shame I can't say the same for you!" Isabela laughed. Even her laugh sounded pretty, Creators. "Come to think of it," Zevran began thoughtfully, "the last time I saw you, you were -" "Don't bring up old memories, sweet thing," Isabela interrupted. "I prefer my imagination to what really happened." Leliana gasped behind Allura and muttered "Scandalous!" under her breath. Even Wynne tutted disapprovingly. That part didn't bother Allura; she was fully aware of Zevran's colorful sexual history before they met. It was what’s happening right now in front of her eyes that was agitating her. Zevran was flirting with Isabela, right in front of her! Like she wasn't even there! Why did he volunteer to come with them if he was still annoyed about yesterday? Come to think of it, why did he also sleep in her tent if he was so... disgruntled? That word gave Allura pause; she couldn't help but think about how furrowed his brow got when he thought she wasn't looking, or the slight pout when she didn't make eye contact. She grinned despite herself. Adorable, she thought. "Oh? Are we quite amusing, my dear Warden?" That was the second thing he'd said to her all day. She wanted to tell him she was thinking about how cute he looked when he was pouting, how she hated that they weren't talking. But with Leliana glaring daggers into the back of his skull (which he tactfully ignored), Wynne showing off her best "I told you so" face, and Zevran openly flirting with another woman, Allura decided against being overly sentimental. "Not at all," Allura responded nonchalantly. The easy way they flirted, the lack of distance between them as they stood side by side... she put a frustrated hand on her hip, despite herself. "Do you know each other?" "Indeed; this is Isabela," Zevran answered with a coy smirk. There was something about the way he said her name that made Allura uneasy. "Queen of the Eastern Seas, and the sharpest blade in Neverra. And Isabela," he turned to his friend, "you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am traveling with a Grey Warden." "A Grey Warden?" Isabela repeated, impressed. "Charmed." 

"An-" Allira cut herself off and frowned. She wanted to say "Aneth ara," but remembered her fight with Zevran. "It's good to meet you, Isabela," Allura greeted her, ignoring Zevran's quirked eyebrow. "You don't see many elven Grey Wardens," Isabela began, a sly look in her eye. "Is it true what about a Grey Warden's ... endurance?" Allura's heart skipped a beat. Not because of Isabela's obvious charm or her seductive gaze as she closed the distance between them; no, it was because Zevran’s voice echoed in her mind; it was a few weeks ago by now, true, but she couldn’t forget his low voice in her ear, the morning after, whispering his own opinions about her “Grey Warden endurance.” Allura closed her eyes and took a deep breath; when she opened them, Isabela was so close, Allura could practically see her... heartbeat pulsing over her armor. Creators, Allura swore inwardly, and forced herself to maintain eye contact. "I have met... few Grey Wardens in the short time I've been one; I do not have many acquaintances to compare myself to." Allura's face felt like it was boiling, and Isabela's confident smirk meant she could also tell. Allura frowned, embarrassed, and took a deep breath and a step back. "We should get going, Isabela. It was great meeting you." Allura turned towards the door, catching Zevran's annoyed face as he followed behind her. "Zevran, you're leaving already?" Allura could hear the whine in Isabela's voice behind her. "What about sex?" Allura's blood ran cold. Her heart seemed to stop and speed up at the same time. Despite her panic, she refused to look at him. She turned away to leave, but she could still hear his response: "Would if I could, my dear, but I have a... previous engagement." As Zevran and Isabela said their goodbyes, Allura held back rolling her eyes and strolled out of the Pearl. ~~~~~~~~~~ Back at camp, Allura didn't say more than a few greetings before she returned to her tent. He didn't want to admit it, but Zevran was... concerned. He'd never seen Allura flustered over anyone but him before. Of course, they hadn't known each other long, but he liked to think he knew her better than the rest of the team. Zevran let out a breath. He should make sure her meeting Isabela didn’t have any… lingering effects. As he stood, he noticed Leliana staring at him from in front of her tent while whispering furiously to Alistair. Probably about his flirting with Isabela in front of Allura. 'There was no harm in it, dear Leliana' he wanted to say. 'Neither of us want to tie the other down; she's also free to flirt with whomever she pleases.' At that, he frowned. He felt some... pressure? in his stomach. Curious... He instead flashed a smile at Leliana, which made her flush angrily and whisper at Alistair faster. Zevran held back a laugh and continued towards Allura's tent. The tent flap pulled back, and Allura looked up at him, surprised. "Oh Zevran," she said, throwing one hand behind her back. "An- ... Did you need anything?" He raised an eyebrow, curious. That’s twice she’s avoided speaking Dalish in front of him. She couldn’t be that annoyed with yesterday, could she? "Do I need a reason to check on my favorite Grey Warden?" He smirked. Disbelief covered her face, and his heart sank, for some reason. But then she grinned. "Of course not," she replied, somewhat tersely, as she pushed past him. He caught the distinct clink of coins bouncing in time with her steps. "Unless you were worried about something?" "Do I have something to be concerned about? For instance, where you're going with a small satchel of sovereigns?," he added, a smile plastered in his face. She didn't seem surprised he knew, though she'd made an effort to hide it. "I'm going to a bar for a drink," she answered curtly. "You're welcome to join me, not follow, although I would prefer to go alone." Zevran's jaw clenched. If Allura noticed, she didn't react. What was it that he thought earlier? She's allowed to flirt with whomever she likes? "Of course," he muttered after a pause. "Enjoy yourself." Allura smiled, unamused, and called for her mabari Fen'or as she walked out of the camp.

Zevran bit the inside of his cheek; he was sure he’d earned his place in the group at this point. Alistair and Morrigan have even let him cook dinner unsupervised by now, so he was sure he could stay even if he and Allura were no longer …. Well, “involved”. And she was stubborn and immovable but she was also kind at heart; she wouldn’t make him leave. But would he want to stay? If every time someone glanced at him, with every interaction, their eyes were filled with pity?

Zevran was many things, but pitiable was not one of them.

He’d promised Allura when she spared his life that he would be at her disposal until the day she no longer needed him; he would keep that promise. Even if she told him when she returned that she didn’t want him, he’d already decided that he would stay with her until the Archdemon was killed. But afterwards….

Allura had already given him many gold and silver bars during their travels; he’d be set for a few months after everything is finished. Zevran wasn’t sure how this would end, but it may be time to start committing to his contingency plan. ~~~~~~~~ Allura sighed and rested her forehead on the bar counter. Fen'or sat in the foyer, eating the steak she’d bought for him. She'd already had 2 and a half cups of ale - the cups were almost as big as her head - and Creators, did she feel it. But she needed to get the sight of Zevran flirting with Isabela -- She lifted her head and - ignoring the vertigo - finished the rest of her cup. She groaned and held her forehead in her hands. Big mistake. She could feel her brain floating around in her skull. The slightest movement made her head and eyes scream in pain; when was the last time she felt this bad - " .... you alright, sweetheart? I .... had enough...." The barkeep's voice faded in and out, but Allura got the gist; she was cutting her off. "Tel.... telsila... ar'm...." Allura struggled to think an appropriate lie, but the words escaped her - there's was too much noise, too many people laughing and talking for her to think straight - "Don't ... I've got her." Allura recognized the voice next to her - it wasn't that familiar but she knew it, who - ? She turned her head - and did her best to suppress the wince - Isabela smirked down at her and winked, drinking her own cup of ale. Creators. "And put my drink on her tab!" she called out to the barkeep. Then to Allura, "Consider it payment for saving you from the hovering vultures." The exact person she did not want to see, sitting next to her as if they were old friends, why is this happening? "Fenedhis -" The room swirled and suddenly Allura was doubled over, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the floor under her and Isabela’s feet. ~~~~~~~~~ An hour later, Isabela had rented a room and brought Allura copious amounts of water and bread, for which the elf was more grateful than she cared to admit. Allura sat on the couch without much fuss; she'd caused the poor woman enough trouble already. Allura squeezed her eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop the room the spinning. When that didn't work, she held her head in her hands and groaned lowly. "You know, letting your hair down would help with the headache," Isabela advised from behind her. Allura grunted in acknowledgement, but remained still. It probably would help - her bun was always tight - but the movement seemed so extraneous. Allura heard a light chuckle behind her as her hair came undone and her dark brown hair fell around her neck and shoulders. Her head felt cool and light, the pressure falling away. "Ma serannas,” Allura mumbled into her hands. "Ir abelas..." "You speak a lot of Dalish when you're drunk, don't you?" With a short laugh, Allura lifted her head. "Thank you, Isabela. I'm sorry to put you through this." "No worries." Allura could hear the smirk in her voice. "Now you owe me for the save and the room." The elf grunted again, thankful she hadn't spent many of the sovereigns yet. They sat together in silence for a time. Allura wouldn't describe it as comforting, but it was welcome. Allura wasn't even alarmed when Isabela quietly moved from behind the couch to the coffee table in front of it. But then she spoke. "So is there a reason you were getting hammered in a brothel alone?" Allura never understood why it was called a brothel. It's where people go to pay for sex, not eat soup. Although, soup could be served here... "I was not alone," Allura refuted, head back in her hands. "Fen'or is with me." Fen'or, who had been brought in after Isabela reserved for the room, perked up and barked once happily. "You know what I mean." Allura sighed and lifted her head. "Creators, I needed to get the image of Zevran flirting with you out of my head." Isabela's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. It was worth the discomfort moving caused to see this gorgeous, confident woman so off guard. "You and Zevran? You're... together?" "Yes." "Like... together together?" "Yes." She made her annoyance clear with that one syllable. "Wow. I've never took him for a 'settle down' type." Allura had to agree. She'd heard his stories; she's always wondered why such a worldly, charming, deadly elf would be interested in being with her. She couldn't think of anything remotely interesting about herself.

"Wait." Isabela's confused voice broke Allura from her reverie. "Why would you come here if you're trying to forget what I looked like?" "Fenedhis, I spent the whole day killing gang members in every other bar in Denerim. I couldn't risk going to a bar in their territory and running into them alone." Allura sighed. "I may be strong, but I am one elf." She never felt like that before meeting Zevran, or anyone else in the group. She never felt so insignificant before. But as much as she could do on her own, what she can do now, with the people she calls friends, is so much more. There was no comparison. "Not that any of it will matter soon," Allura sighed, returning her head to her forehead. "I'm sure we'll both be single in no time. I guess we're... fighting." "You're fighting?," Isabela asked with the same incredulous tone of voice. "Yes." Allura let out another sigh. "What did you do when you and Zevran fought...?" "Us? Sweet thing, Zevran and I were never together-together. Actually, I've never known him to be serious with anyone - almost anyone." While she didn't like how Isabela said "almost anyone," the confirmation was much appreciated. Allura lifted her head and grinned. "Good to know." Isabela smirked. "Alright, I'll help you out. What's going on?"

Allura had no idea why such a woman would be interested in helping her with her relationship problems, but she was grateful for the offer. So grateful, in fact, she decided not to question it.

"I'm not very... interesting, Isabela. Not like Zevran. But I am Dalish, which may be vaguely interesting to other people." Allura was rambling, which was new to her. She could always blame the ale if Isabela ever spoke about this. "And I wanted to teach him Dalish, even if it's the little bit that I know. But he wouldn't learn it." Isabela tilted her head curiously. "Isn't Dalish dying even among the Dalish already? No one really uses it outside your clan, right?" There it was. The same thing Zevran said. Her heart clenched and she sighed. "Oh... I see. Zevran said that too." Allura was glad her new friend didn’t make her say it. Isabela crossed her legs on the table. "But it wasn't about learning Dalish to use it, was it?" "... No," Allura answered quietly. "I miss my people. The Keeper, my friends, the Halla. Merrill, and," she took a deep breath, "Tamlen." She breathed out, ignoring how shaky her voice was going to be. "I miss them, and if I could share it with Zevran, I would miss them less, and we could talk in secret. We could be closer." The silence this time was a little deafening. Allura peeked at Isabela and saw she was looking at her thoughtfully. The elf raised a curious eyebrow. "What is it?" "What is it that you care about more," Isabela started carefully, "Zevran speaking Dalish, or the both of you speaking the same thing?" Zevran speaking Dalish, Allura thought immediately. But of course that was her answer; she was stubborn and hard headed, and pushed too much. Zevran was the opposite; despite the way he acted, he cared so much, but never forced anyone to do anything they didn't want to. She wanted him to be more open with her, but she needed to give a little too. "I just want us to be closer." Her voice was lower, smaller than it'd ever been before, but she could still hear it echo around the room. It was somehow terrifying and humbling to realize that she just wanted to be with him more when they weren't in combat. "Fine." Isabela's voice cut through the echo in Allura's head. "I'll help you." Allura looked up curiously, and saw Isabela looking smug and confident, but just a little bit softer than earlier that day. "I don't know much Antivan," Isabela began. "But I know enough to fix this." "Really, Isabela? Ma serannas -" "- For a price." Allura deflated just a bit, but there was no way she was going to turn her down. "Five sovereigns a night," Allura offered. "Nine." "Six, and I buy you dinner every night." "Deal! My, Allura. You sure know how to sweet talk a gal." Isabela fanned herself with a grin. "Thank you, Isabela. This means a -" "Yes, yes, you're grateful, have no idea how to thank me, blah, blah." Isabela got off the table and walked to the door, waving off Allura's heartfelt exclamations of gratitude. She stopped briefly to pet Fen'or. "Meet here an hour after sunset for dinner. You're paying for the room too." Then Isabela winked and she was gone. ~~~~~~ Allura made it back to the camp much later than Zevran expected her. Alistair, who was on watch, greeted her as she walked past the fire and entered her tent. She paused at the entrance - maybe surprised to see Zevran curled in the bedroll next to hers? - and she let out a sigh. Disappointment? Annoyance? He should just confront her now - but what would she say? Zevran remained still. Allura disrobed and slipped into her bed roll. She hesitated before laying down. He heard some shuffling, and felt her hand against his back. It was brief but warm, and he could feel each finger pressed against his shoulder blade. He ignored the chill the absence of her hand created. ----- The next morning, Zevran was awakened by the sound of metal against metal and light footsteps. He turned to see Allura was already dressing. "Going somewhere so early?," he asked.

"Oh! Good morning, Zevran." Allura turned and smiled. Her armor - from her helm to her boots - was already on and she was gathering her satchel from the floor. He noticed that it was much lighter than when she left. She couldn't have drunk that much, could she? "How was the bar?" Her eyes widened and darted to the side briefly. "It was... fine. I ran into Isabela. We - had a drink." Zevran's heart clenched - why? He’d asked Isabela to keep an eye on her, why bother getting upset that they had a drink? Because Allura wasn’t telling the whole truth. He forced a smile. "That's great. I'm... pleased you get along." "She's much more agreeable than I thought she was," Allura admitted with a laugh. "We're going out for drinks again tonight." His blood ran cold; he couldn't - no wouldn't - point out why. He sat up, ignoring the dread he felt. "That's... great. I'm - " "Sorry, vhenan, I need to make some money before tonight. I'll see you afterwards." With a smile and a small wave, she slipped out of the tent and was off. She didn't sound angry; she even referred to him by her Elven pet name for him.

Perhaps… she was over the fight. Maybe drinking with Isabela did truly help, and when she returned tonight, everything will go back to normal. ------ Things did not go back to normal. The pattern continued for another three days; Allura would wake up early every morning, leave early, come back to complete group missions to earn money for the night, go for "drinks with Isabela," come back very late, and sleep. She stayed up for her shifts for the night watch and kept up with her responsibilities. But he hadn't seen her eat in days. She had to though; her satchel was full every day before group missions and considerably lighter when she returned at night. If he asked her about her disappearances, or why she needed so much money every day, or why she was drinking with Isabela so often, she would give him a flimsy excuse and wave it off. “I’m allowed time to myself, correct?” “Bars are so much more expensive in human port towns than the forest ones.” “She’s such an interesting person!” It wasn’t in his nature to push and make someone do something. But he would get an answer tonight. ~~~~~~~~ Allura strolled back into camp, late as usual, with a bit more of a skip in her step. Isabela’s lessons were almost over! She’d be able to talk to Zevran privately, even around the group. Sure, her accent still needed work, and she never emphasized the right syllable, but it was something. There was progress.

She was in such high spirits she didn’t notice Zevran perched in the tree above her until he dropped down in front of her. His brow was furrowed, he looked as if he’d been up there all night, and she’d never wanted to hold him more than at that moment.

Zevran did not look like he felt the same, despite the smile he plastered onto his face. “How was ‘drinks with Isabela’?”

Allura’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why was he so obsessed with knowing that answer? What would it matter to him anyway? She’s been in a much better mood since going out for drinks, all to surprise him, and she never lied about where she was or who she was with. What could be the problem?

“I don’t understand why you’re upset…”

Then the reason dawned on her. To him, they were still “in a fight.” She resolved the issue she’d had without telling her partner about it. So, now she’s in a better mood, but she’s not spending any time with him; instead, she’s with someone else every chance she gets. She covered her face, ashamed. This entire plan happened because she wanted to get closer to him, and she forgot to talk to him about it.

“Zevran, I’m sorry - ”

“We began this agreeing not to tie each other down, no? I just imagined we would be adults and talk to each other about this.” He gestured between the two of them. “If you prefer Isabela’s company, then I will not stand in your way -”

“Zevran, no, that is not what’s happening - ”

“Then why else have you spent every night this week with her?”

“Because she has been teaching me how to speak Antivan.” For a second, she was surprised at how quickly she confessed the truth to him. But the frustration on his face fell away to reveal the confusion and loneliness he must have been feeling for days; she needed to fix this as soon as possible.

“But why… would you want that? Why would she agree?” The confusion and disbelief in his voice hurt her for some reason, but she couldn’t act on it.

“I… I wanted her to teach me Antivan so I could spend more time with you. I wanted to do more than train to fight Darkspawn with you when we weren’t actually fighting Darkspawn. Fenedhis, I got caught up in the excitement and didn’t realize I wasn’t spending any time with you at all. I am sorry to have worried you so much.”

She was! She couldn’t express that enough. But she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe her now.

“... What did she teach you?”

Allura flushed; she wasn’t confident enough to actually say it yet.

Her silence must have annoyed him, because the next thing he said was an ultimatum: “If you can’t tell me yourself, perhaps I should ask Isabela personally.”

Allura reached out for his hand. Her fingertips brushed past the back of his hand, and she hesitated before grabbing him. She took a deep breath before latching onto his hand.

“Bésame.”

Her lover turned, disbelief plain on his face. No, she was still saying it wrong. And it's a song, she has to sing it.

“Bésame mucho. Que tengo miedo perderte, perderte después.”

Zevran shook his hand from hers and she wanted to cry. Of course she took too long to realize what she'd done, and he's moved on. She heard him sigh and braced herself for the sound of his footsteps away from her.

Instead, he walked towards her and before she could react his lips were on hers. She froze. His lips were warm and soft and urgent and it pained her when he broke away.

“Your accent is terrible.”

He kissed her again.

“You don't put enough emphasis on the accents.”

He kissed her again. This time, she kissed back.

“You aren't singing in tune with the song.”

Another kiss.

“Your lessons could use some improvement.”

Flushed and breathless, Allura secretly hoped he'd kiss her again. It’d been so long since she’d even held him, his kisses almost overwhelmed her --

“Can you teach me?”

He smirked and held her face in his calloused hands.

“Of course, mi amor.” Zevran rested his forehead on his, and she caught his scent: leather and herbs and sandalwood. She took a deep breath and sighed.

Her lover raised his chin and kissed her again, slowly this time, more deliberately than before. She shuddered, just a little, and pulled him closer to her. She rested her head against his shoulder; she’d forgotten how comfortable the fit was.

“Vhenan?” Allura murmured into his chest.

“Hmm?” Zevran hummed.

“Would you…” She paused. “Would you sing it for me?”

“Ah. But of course,” he began. “If you could do something for me.”

Anything, she thought. “Depends on what it is,” was what she said.

He chuckled. “Would you tell me what ‘vhenan’ means?”

Allura broke away, alarmed. Why would he want to know now? Was he pitying her?

“But you said…,” she trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“I did,” he finished. “I told you Dalish was a dying language. So,” he continued, grabbing both of her hands. “Teach me what you know.”

He waited patiently, holding eye contact, while she pieced this together. What could he gain from learning a dying language? Nothing tangible for sure -

But he could gain her. Assuming she was what he wanted.

She let out a breathy chuckle. She could hope.

“Vhenan is short for ma’vhenan,” she began. “‘My heart.’” Without missing a beat, she asked, “What does ‘amor’ mean?”

She held back a frown when she said it. When he calls her ‘amor,’ the word is light, airy, somehow musical. It sounded flat and dull in her own voice.

Zevran smiled and broke eye contact, briefly. If she didn’t know any better, Allura would swear he was embarrassed.

“‘Mi amor,” he corrected her. “‘My love.’”

So she should hope.

“How about we retire to my tent,” she proposed, “and you can sing for me?”

“Only if you promise to sing for me,” he offered with a sly smirk and a wink.

She felt her cheeks heat up but allowed herself to be led to her tent. She laid in the cot next to her love, and listened to his song.

[moitessiera-blog]

Dragon Age romances react to their female lover being taller than them (so for Bull they'd be Qunari, Solas - elven. But basic human being taller than them for all others?) THANK YOU!

Ok, let’s do this! (Note: DA2 only as there isn't space to do all LIs across three games)Anders:- Hawke and her brother are very tall. He knew Fereldans could get tall. It makes them look very powerful. Maybe they’d be useful, and help him in exchange for the maps?- She’s a mage! Andraste, is there something more attractive than a woman that’s so obviously powerful? He feels weak in the knees about it, dammit.- Justice reminds him not to get infatuated with this woman, but no matter, Hawke wouldn’t be interested anyway.- But she flirts with him too, she’s kind and thinks about other mages, not just herself. Maker give him strength. This tall vision starts filling his waking and sleeping moments, but he reminds himself that she could not be his.- When her brother joins the Templars, he’s afraid either Hawke or he will end up in the circle.- But she doesn’t give up. He can’t deny how he feels, Hawke is a grown woman who can make her own decisions too, she knows what loving a fellow apostate would mean.- And there’s something… Powerful… When he pushes her against the pillar in the clinic, kisses this vision of power and beauty.- And the way they lie together, a tangle of limbs, her long arms hold him tightly and it makes him believe she’d never let go.

Isabela:- The first time she sees Hawke, she’s wearing a shirt that probably would cover up the midriff of a normal sized person. But Maker bless that shirt that shows a washboard set of abs. She’s impossibly tall. She high-key wants to climb Hawke. When the towering, willowy woman smirks and offers to help her retrieve the relic too…- Why does Hawke have to tease and flirt but give up nothing? It’s infuriating and actually kinda sexy. But Hawke needs climbing and she’ll buy hiking boots if needs be.- Every so often, if she’s admiring someone in The Hanged Man, she imagines Hawke in their clothes. Hawke fills them out better, skin gets exposed where the tall woman is simply too tall for the skirt, the blouse… Those boots would leave so much thigh exposed. Get bank from the stinking deep roads!- Oh no… Bethany. At least she’s a Warden and not dead. But dammit. Isabela isn’t heartless enough to take advantage of Hawke. She wants it to be fun, not just sex to get rid of frustrations. (Maker what did she just think? Stupid!)- Flirting with Hawke does not help extinguish this spark that’s been kindling for nearly three years. Anyone else and she’d have bedded them and left, or just left.- Finally bedding Hawke really doesn’t help. It should have been fun. It really was. But maybe she left herself yearning for too long because when they lay there together and Hawke pulled her closer, nuzzled at her neck. She didn’t want to leave. - It hurt to go. It hurt to see Hawke nod as if she knew it was going to happen. - What could she say when Leandra died? Explain that a tumble might make it better and make it worse but it’d be great? It eats away at her.- Getting the relic back should have been enough. But fucking Andraste, that look of betrayal on Hawke’s face was the worst. The note kept eating at her. A note? Who does that? - Shitballs, she’s grown a conscience, or loves Hawke, or both… Either way. She’s got to go back. Hopefully Kirkwall isn’t in ashes, and Hawke isn’t too hurt. - It takes time. But Hawke is stuck with her, or Isabela is stuck with Hawke. They’re equally stuck, and it might be love, it probably is. Admitting it should have felt like she was losing her freedom. It doesn’t. And it’s wonderful. - She had to borrow one of Hawke’s tunics, hers… Ripped. It was the right length. And red and black really suited her. There’s a lot to be said about having a girlfriend you can climb and steal clothes from.

Fenris: - The Hawke warrior is very tall, she towers over her own brother. Her brother is not short either. Fenris thinks that hopefully, these people will not be intimidated by Danarius, they barely looked shocked when he ripped the heart from a man with his bare hand. - How did he not notice she’s a mage? And damn her for thinking a grin and sarcastic flirting might make him less angry at being duped? He owes her for her help and offers his sword should she need it.- She earns his trust slowly but surely. And somehow her flirting and cheekiness makes her magic less worrisome. He comes to enjoy seeing her tall silhouette in the doorway asking him to help on a “quest” as she dramatically puts it. - Why he’s followed her to the deep roads, Maker only knows. She said “I need someone who makes Carver look like a ray of sunshine. And you’re all doom, gloom, and you fight well. You have to come, and the loot gets split evenly too.” it made him chuckle. - Carver’s death affected her more than she admits. They drink together in his squat of a mansion and the drinking becomes “I could have brought Anders with me. He might have saved him! But Carver couldn’t stand Anders!” he tries to quip that not many people like the abomination, and it makes her laugh.- Hawke was rubbing off on him. While she kept a gloomy drink with him on occasion, the natural jester that made her who she was won out. And it brought out the jester in him. It was a part of himself that did not surface too often but he found that Hawke made it easy.- They were drinking with Isabela. Wicked Grace. Clothes were bet and that’s how it started. It ended with barely clad bodies in a heap on the floor of Varric’s suite in The Hanged Man. Isabela was the most naked, and Fenris was glad that the abomination was the least. He blushed as he looked at the long figure of his friend, cheeks pink from drinking. He wanted to kiss her in her vulnerability? He left, slamming the door to a chorus of hungover groans. - When Hadriana was dead, perhaps he was just too happy. Or, something. It… Started blurry. And he remembered Hawke slide down the wall where he pushed her into it. And suddenly her lips were the right height to kiss. It ended where he found himself laid across her, he looked up the bed to see her sleeping face. Quickly he’d tried to dress. There was a red satin tie on his wrist and there wasn’t time to undo the knots. He tried to remember everything that happened, memories jumbled together and faces weren’t right. And her tall figure standing there naked was no longer hers, but another tall figure that made him gag.- She woke up. Maybe she thought more of what happened between them. Either way, he couldn’t explain enough and he saw that on her face as he left. He made himself not look back. - He had to watch her cope with the death of her mother without him. They tried to go back to where they were before, but there was hurt in her eyes and guilt in his. So they stayed apart as much as they could. - They became friends again, and spoke of nothing. It was only their friends who brought it up, and only a few times. Every time it was as if he walked out again, but each time they returned to their normalcy of friendship quicker.- Three years, like time had frozen when they were still friends. And passed without warning. Danarius was dead, and she’d prevented him from killing his snake of a sister. He’d understood it. Saw her holding a knife under Carver’s throat, six years ago now, and understood that she couldn’t watch him do something so similar. - They spoke about that time, after Carver died, and about Varania. And he noticed, he was free. They spoke openly about the night they shared themselves with each other. - There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt. He would follow her anywhere, and he did love her, his best friend, he could admit it now. Hawke did too. Perhaps that was enough, and the past, who they were didn’t matter.- He’d worn that satin tie on his wrist out of a twisted guilt. He showed it to her, hidden under his gauntlet. She laughed and took it off, tying it like a ragged necklace on herself.- He used it to pull her face down to his height whenever they kissed. When it finally broke, she bought a new one, for new beginnings.

Merrill: - Creators! Merrill had prepared herself in thinking that humans would be tall, but the Hawke sisters were like beansprouts. Well, Hawke was (she hated her first name and she tried to be polite), Bethany was less tall, only a few inches taller than most human men. But Hawke, she was surely as tall as the qunari (and when she met them Merrill wondered if perhaps there was a little Qunari blood in the warrior)- She pursed her lips when she’d revealed herself to be a blood mage. But she said nothing cruel. - Arriving in Kirkwall, the warrior promised to look out for the elf, and visit.- Merrill had barely finished cleaning her little house up, and sorted out her things, when Hawke visited. She brought fruit, bread, cheese, and a glass bottle filled with sweet syrupy wine. She blushed when she could offer nothing more than water in a hopefully, clean cup. Hawke laughed and told her that the company was enough. If anything, she blushed harder at that.- Hawke did look peculiar on her small chair. She needn’t be so kind, and polite… It was endearing seeing the giant of a human out of armour and so sweet. - The Hawke family was all sweet. They went partway up Sundermount when Merrill felt homesick, picnicked, and Hawke threaded flowers in both their hair.- Merrill idly noticed that she cherished the feeling of warm fingers in her hair, and the way she looked at her as she thread them in. - When Hawke lost Bethany in the deep roads, the warrior barely smiled, she would have done anything to bring the smile back, and gradually, it did through a lot of hard work.- After all of that, three years had passed, they were friends. Admitting to the tall warrior that she wished for more took every ounce of bravery, that was rewarded with love in turn. - Her favorite moments was the two of them together, reading in a nook. Hawke surrounded her, holding her book above her head while Merrill rested into her reading her own.

Kinda turned into LI×Tall!Hawke but I liked that!

[araglas1989-writing]

Jealousy

There were occasions when Fenris hated follwing Hawke around. Top of that list was not, as some might assume, the Bone Pit. Nor was it even the Gallows. No.

It was the fucking Blooming Rose.

Not only did some of the drunken suitors think he was up for sale, most of them kept one killer gaze away, but he was also ogled at with hungry eyes. Honestly though he highly disliked that, it wasn't the reason the warrior hated the brothel. After all, he was used to those sort of looks from time spent as a slave. No, the reason why Fenris hated to that place was the man who stood before him. Sweet, kind Anders always nice to everyone, even those who did not respect his personal space and thought he was one of the whores...

"Hey sweetie, how much are you charging?" A woman with long red hair and a face like she had hit a wall at some speed pressed herself against the healer, her hands wandering down to his ass. Fenris' eyes flashed when Anders just laughed and tried to explain that his services weren’t up for sale.

"A sweet and beautiful woman such as yourself doesn’t need to pay for sex, don't you think?" The healer gave her his most charming grin whereupon she giggled and blushed. "So I don't need to pay you then?" Her voice was a low seductive purr.

That was the moment, he snapped. The precise moment when the warrior couldn't stand it anymore.

With a snarl he stepped forward, grabbed her small wrist and pulled her from his mage. "He is mine! Go!"

"Easy Fen, don't hurt her" Anders put his hand on Fenris’ shoulder and smiled at her apologetically. "Like he said I'm unfortunately already taken, but I'm sure a lady like you can find someone else who isn't attached."

The redhead looked between both of them before retreating. Looking at Fenris with disgust, mumbling something about filthy knife-ears. "That was rude" Anders shook his and smiled at Fenris, but the on his lover’s face made the healer frown. "Don't listen to her, Fen."

"You should not encourage them. Just tell them to leave you alone." Possessively he pulled Anders close. The healer giggled and let Fenris embrace him. "You know I'm yours. They can't tempt me. No need to be jealous, though it it is cute." He winked at his lover, placed a chaste kiss on his lips and stepped away.

The warrior reluctantly released him. Sighing he looked around for Hawke but he was still speaking with the Madame of the Blooming Rose. Fenris whirled when he heard a surprised squeal from his beloved behind him. A big man, at least twice as wide and two heads taller than Fenris had grabbed his mage, seemingly unimpressed at the healer's struggle to free himself of the unwelcome hold. Fenris’ green eyes became dark and his markings flashed suddenly with an eerie blue light. He leaped forwards, pulled his lover away from the man and behind himself, before phasing his hand right into the man's chest. The human fell on his knees, eyes wide in surprise and pain.

"Fenris! Don't kill him! It's just a misunderstanding!"

His elf ears twitched at the distressed voice of his lover, as he worked through his rage. He pulled the man closer. "No means no. If you ever lay hands on him again you are dead!" The warrior let him go and turned to Anders, scanning him for injuries. "I didn't know that you are so possessive..." The healer replied, unsure how to feel. He was relieved that Fenris had rescued him from the harassment but he was worried that the elf had nearly killed the man.

"I am not being possessive, just protective." Fenris scowled. "Let’s leave" he grabbed Anders' hand and led him outside of the brothel.

Outside Anders pulled his hand away. "What just happened in there?" "I saved you from that ogre" Fenris turned to him with a stern expression. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding. We could have handled it without violence!" Fenris’ ears dropped as he gazed upon his lovers angry expression

"Maybe but... I thought he hurt you. Just the thought someone could harm you... I can not even describe how it pains me..."

Anders gaze softened. "Aww Fen sometimes you are just too cute." He pulled the smaller man into a chaste kiss that soon deepened. Anders smiled into the kiss and Fenris slowly pushed him backwards till the mage was pressed against the wall. Gasping he broke the kiss. The healer moaned when the elf started to caress his neck with his lips

"Fen someone will catch us!"

"I do not care" Fenris murmured against the sensitive skin between the ear and neck. Despite the warrior’s gauntlets, his hands were gentle on his lover‘ body . The mage giggled softly. A giggle that then turned into a low moan as a skilled hands stroked Anders’ through his robes. Soon all concerns vanished. His own hands wandered to Fenris breeches and opened them.

Fenris paused momentarily to remove his gauntlets. "Grease" he demanded with a low voice. Anders complied immediately. In less that a minute Fenris had raised Anders' robes up and gently slipped one finger into his lover. It was fortunate the healer did not wear breeches nor smalls. A habit he picked up at from his time in the Circle when trysts were quick and rushed by necessity.

The blonde moaned and put one leg around Fenris' hip to allow better access. Soon, Fenris had finished his preparations. Anders couldn’t help but admire his lovers strength, as the elf picked the human up as if Anders weighed nothing. The blonde muffled his moan as Fenris pushed inside him by kissing the elf hungrily.

The warrior held his lover secure, savouring the feeling as the elf’s cock slid inside. Fenris paused, allowing the healer to adjust, and then he started thrusting, slow and deep.

It didn't take long for them to reach their peak, just in time as Hawke finally left the brothel and found them as they were rearranging their clothes.

"There you are! One moment you were in there and the next you vanished, I already thought..." He blinked perplexed as he noticed Anders' red face and Fenris' red ears. "Did you just... here? Maker..." He shook his head. "I got my information, let's go."

~~ ~~

Fenris had always anjoyed going to the Hanged Man for cards night. It was nice to spend time with his friends without being interrupted by spiders, Tal-Vasoth, carta members, dragons or other things that needed to be killed. Sitting with them, playing cards, listening to their stories or watching them as they joked with each other felt like finally having a family.

But in the last few weeks it had gotten harder to enjoy it. Watching Anders interact with others was hard for the elf, who never before had noticed what a tactile person his lover was. He was always touching the people he spoke with. Touching their hands, arms, shoulders, backs. Always innocent just showing that he was there, that he cared that he was 'in touch' with them. Fenris felt like climbing the walls as his jealousy grew. Thankfully, he was able to control it as long as it only occurred with their friends. They all knew that the healer was his lover and even Isabela understood to not hit on him.The problem was that Anders behaved like this with everyone.

For twenty minutes at least, Anders had been speaking to one of his regular patients at the other table. Fenris was watching him laugh and joke with the man, watching as the healer continuisly touched him briefly ~He does not know, what he is doing to me~ The elf drank some of his ale, brooding. "Hey Fenris, everything ok?" The warrior blinked and turned his head towards Hawke. "Everything is fine, thank you" "Are you sure Broody? You’re staring daggers at the other table..." "Yes!" Exasperated he looked back at his mage, who once again laughed at something the man was saying. Fenris eyes narrowed.

Ten minutes later he couldn't hold it in anymore. He drank the last of his drink and stood, slowly walking to the other table. He attemped to smile at the man, trying to be polite but he could not help it as the smile morphed into a grimace instead. "Excuse us Serah, we are heading home now. Come Anders." Bewildered the healer saw up. "But..." "Now" He looked pointedly at his lover. Anders exchanged glances with the other man and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry time flies. I wish you a good night." A little stiff, he stood up, throwing an unhappy gaze at Fenris but went out without making any fuss.

Outside he took Fenris by his arm and pulled him into a backstreet. "What was that? You made me look like a naughty child!" "You belong to me not to that scum!" "He is a friend nothing more and you know it! Why can't you trust me?" "All eyes are always on you. Do you not see it? They want you!" "You are exaggerating wildly, it's all in your mind! Get your jealousy under control, understood?"

"I am not..." Fenris paused and took in a deep breath. "I am sorry. It is just... all those years I was a slave, I had nothing… and now I have you and there is nothing I am more afraid of than loosing you..." He took a step closer, carefully caressing his lover’s cheek . "I love you so much..." Anders sighed and opened his previously folded arms, leaning into the touch. "I can understand that. But you can't hide me away from everyone. I'm yours but I'm still a free man." "And I would not want you any other way" Fenris stepped even closer and kissed his mage. The healer melt into the kiss. He thew his arms around the lithe elf and pulled him close, deepening the kiss. Moments later they broke apart. "Maybe we should take this somewhere else?" He purred into the sensitive elven ear, nibbling softly on it, chuckling when his warrior moaned.

Hand in hand they walked back to Fenris' mansion. Once there they set aside their weapons and Fenris hugged his mage from behind, nuzzling his face against the spot where his neck joined his back, breathing in his smell of elfroot, sandalwood and something uniquely Anders. Anders leaned back into the embrace. It was such a heart-warming feeling to be held like this. Secure and loved. He could forgive anything just to be held like that. "Let's go to bed." Fenris placed sweet kisses at the neck of the healer. "I want you." He stood on his tiptoes to nibble on the blonde's ear. "Yes" Anders melted at that sensation. Clinging on each other they managed to get to the bedroom without falling or crashing.

Once there the warrior let go of the mage.

"Strip" he command with his low and deep rumbling voice, stepping forward to their bed and sat down, watching.

Anders grinned seductively then he started to hum a tune and moved enticingly to its beat. First he pulled his hair tie and ruffled his hair, knowing how much Fenris loved his golden strands. Later he started to unbuckle the strappings of his outer robe, his hips moving in seductive slow circles. Once all straps were open, Anders turned away and slowly let the robe slide down his shoulders. Allowing only his elbows to hold the clothes up, Anders turned back to his love, throwing the outer robe aside. He smiled sweetly, when he noticed that Fenris followed every move with his eyes. The healers nimble fingers opened the lacings of the plain white cotton under robe he wore so that the the leather reinforced outer robe would not irritate his skin. Anders bathed in the look Fenris gave him, when finally skin was showing. Fenris’ gaze expressed his love, desire and admiration, it felt like the healer's skin was on fire and his stomach full of butterflies. He had never believed someone would look at his scarred body like it was a treasure. He had never believed that someone could overlook the 'APOSTATE' burned on his shoulder blades he got after his fifth escape attempt. Or the 'whore' that was carved in his lower back. Instead of being disgusted Fenris had nothing other than praise on his lips.

When Anders was naked Fenris stood up. "Undress me." Eagerly the healer stepped forward and followed the command. In their bedroom Anders liked nothing more than submitting himself to the elf, knowing that his lover would never do something that Anders wouldn't want. With secure fingers opened the clasps of Fenris' Armor, setting it aside, then stripping the warrior out of his tunic. After it was gone, Anders sank elegantly on his knees. He looked up with a smug grin before he folded his hands behind his back and leaned forward to open the lacings only with his teeth. Fenris groaned at the sight, his hands tangled in the blond strands, pushing Anders' face for a moment into his groin. The warrior was already hard and now feeling the hot breath of his lover through his breeches was almost too much.

Anders nuzzled against the stiff hardness underneath the layer of clothes, inhaling the deep musk of the elf's want, waiting until the pressure against his head disappeared. He closed the gap between himself and his lover so he could continue his work to open the lacings with his teeth. Only after they were open, did he use his hands to push the breeches down. After Fenris stepped out of them, Anders looked up questioningly...

"Use your mouth" Anders held the delectable cock with his right hand at its base and leaned forward, kissing the head, then playfully licking it quickly, three or four times before he closed his lips around the head sucking, savouring the slightly salty flavour.

They had played this game easily a thousand time since they had been together but every time it felt like the first time.

With a wet pop Anders released the head, licking instead from the base to the top and back, then again to the top, before swallowing the erection whole. Fenris' cock was the perfect length to put it entirely in Ander's mouth without making him gag. Anders hummed approvingly as Fenris grabbed his hair harder and started to thrust slowly into his mouth, the elf breathed hard, sometimes letting out a moan but otherwise he stayed mostly silent. A few minutes later the warrior pulled out. He pulled Anders on his feet and brushed with his thumb some salvia out of the healer's mouth, admiring the wet, red lips.

"Lay on your back on the bed."

Anders nodded and followed the order.

~~ ~~ Four weeks ago Fenris had decided that it was time for Anders to finally move in with him. The blonde slept already almost every night with him and - so Fenris reasoned further - if Anders would move in for good he could use is former personal space in the clinic for two more cots.

Not that Anders needed an excuse to move in with his beloved. Who wouldn't want to make himself a home with the person he loved most? It was something he had always dreamed of but thought he could never have. Also he hoped that it would maybe help Fenris with his jealousy, which sometimes got out of control.

From that point on then they were truly inseparable. Fenris refused to go to any errands with Hawke if Anders wasn't with them and used all his free time to guard Anders at his clinic or even help with the mage underground. The healer found it a little strange but on the other hand also so adorable, feeling warm and safe with his love by his side.

It was a rather busy day today. Winter brought all the typical diseases.

Fenris stood in one corner so he was not in the way and took a good look at everything. He had always had mixed feelings when observed at the clinic. One part of him was incredibly proud of his lover because of his skills, his kindness and his concern for everybody. But another part of him hated the attention Anders got and gave others. Every smile, every too friendly banter or every touch that wasn't healing made Fenris squirm.

When a new patient arrived he instantly gained the attention of the warrior. The young man was obviously no Darktowner and could also possibly be from the lower class of Hightown. Someone that shouldn't even know that the healer existed. Fenris narrowed his eyes and watched him carefully as the stranger approached his lover. They exchanged some words the elf couldn't hear before the rather good looking human laid on the last free cot for Anders to examine him. Several minutes later The blonde told his patient something whereupon the man jumped up, hugged him stormy and kissed Anders on his cheek.

Fenris' eyes flashed and he stormed forward without caring whom he bumped into it. He grabbed the stranger’s arm, with so much force that his wrist snapped. "Do not touch the mage" he snarled while the man cried out in pain.

Anders pushed the warrior away. "Have you lost your mind? Stand down!" Furious he pointed to the corner from which the elf had come, before he took the man's hand his. "I'm so, so sorry" Anders' hand started to glow green while he was healing the broken wrist. "Please come back early tomorrow, then we will start the therapy." When the man was gone, Anders shot an angry gaze at the warrior who had returned in his corner looking like an angry kicked puppy before the healer worked hard to heal every other patient at least enough to justify to send them home for today.

An hour later the clinic was empty.

Still furious as hell Anders finally turned to his lover who looked now rather uncomfortable, knowing that he had messed up. "What by Andraste's tits did you think you were doing?" "He kissed you!" Fenris shifted nervously. He had never seen Anders this angry before. "He just thanked me because I told him, that I could heal him, while every other healer he asked told him that he would die within the next year! And what did you? You broke his wrist!" "I... I didn't know..." "And even if you did, you would have done the same! You're just so insanely jealous! I can't put up with that anymore!"

Fenris ears dropped and his eyes went big. "What... do you mean?"

"I mean" Anders heart beat fast and painfully as he took a deep breath. ~I can't believe it myself...~ "That I’m breaking up with you. I can't live like this. You hurt an innocent patient just because he was happy and thankful..." "Nonono please do not do that! I love you! You are my everything, my life, my soul..." He took a step closer, reaching after the man he loved more than anything else, but Anders stepped away, eyes watering. "And I love you, but I can't go on like that..." "I can change, please..." Again Fenris stepped closer. He, too, had tears in his eyes. "Go. Tomorrow I will get my things" Anders turned away, his shoulders started to shiver while he was trying to suppress a sob. Fenris felt like he was trapped in a crushing prison. ~It cannot be... It must not be...~ He laid his hand on the healer's shoulder, trying to comfort him and change his mind but Anders just shrugged it off. "Go already you fool!"

"I... please tell me first, where you will sleep tonight. I hope not here." Anders shrugged again. "I suppose that Hawke has a free guestroom."

Again Fenris felt jealousy rise, but he fought it back. After all was it the reason for his loss. "Can I walk you there?" The healer whirled around and pushed Fenris backwards, his face a mask of anger and hurt. "Are you insane? Do you really think I want you to walk me anywhere right now? I want you to GO! Leave me alone! I'm done with you!" Each word Fenris winced as under beatings. "I... sure, I'm sorry" He turned around and fled, leaving Anders behind who fell on his knees, crying.

Anders didn't know how long he sat there, his arms wrapped around himself and crying, but at there came a point he just couldn't find the strength for it anymore. Slowly he stood on his feet, brushing his last tears away. His eyes and throat were sore and he was incredibly thirsty. Numb he looked around at his clinic and decided to leave everything as it was. Anders left it, secured it with a magic spell before he went to the near entrance to Hawke's estate. A long time ago the other mage had given him a key, in case he needed to hide. Since then Anders always had it on him.

Soon after his arrival in the foyer, Bodahn took him and brought him to Hawke in his library.

"Maker Anders, what happened?" dismayed he looked at his fellow mage, before turning to his servant. "Please fetch Orana and tell her to make tea and bring it here, with some cookies."

The dwarf nodded and left.

Hawke led Anders to one of his armchairs. Feeling that his guest needed some comfort, he sat himself at the armrest and pulled Anders in an embrace. The healer let everything happen too upset to talk. He nuzzled his cheek against Hawke's strong chest, inhaling his soothing smell. It seemed like he had just bathed not long ago, he smelled like bath oil and fresh washed clothes. With those the strong arms around him, the blonde felt safe and protected.

They sat in silence, with only the cackling of the fire in the fireplace breaking the silence until Orana brought tea and cookies and left again.

"Drink something, please. Also Orana’s cookies are the best" he rubbed Anders back encouragingly. Slowly the healer moved away from Hawke and the cup, savouring the warmth of the tea before drinking some of the sweet warm liquid. Soon he felt good enough to nibble at a cookie, staring at the fireplace.

Hawke took also one cup, watching his guest thoughtfully. "Anders... what happened?" his voice was soft and careful. Anders took another sip, before he put the cup away. "I... broke up with Fenris." Surprised Hawke raised his eyebrows. After a short pause he asked cautiously. "I thought you were so happy?" The healer stayed silent for some time, then he nodded, shook his head and nodded again. "We were... most of the time. But Fenris... he is sometimes so jealous."

Hawke started to rub Anders back again in slow circles. "Why today? I mean he was surely jealous before, so what happened?" "Today I had a seriously ill patient. All healers he had visited before told him that he would die within a year. He asked around and found me as his last resort. After examined him I told him that I could heal him. He was so grateful, that he hugged me and kissed my cheek... Fenris intervened and broke his wrist. The man was just grateful!" The blonde shivered again. "It wasn't the first time Fenris got violent because of jealousy..."

"That... sounds sadly exactly like Fenris. I don't want to be insensitive, but why is this time a reason to break up but not the first time he got violent?" It was the first time since Anders arrived that he looked in Hawke' face. "You want to accuse me of that?" "What? No, I just try to understand the dynamics so I can help you." He smiled kindly.

Anders watched him searchingly before he looked away again. "The very first time was when we were at the Blooming Rose. A big man held me against my will. Fenris nearly killed him. I was so shocked, but then... I don't know what the man would have done to me and Fenris had listened to me when I told him to let go... And he told me afterwards that he feared that someone would hurt me... Maker talking about it… it sounds so much worse, I'm a horrible person to let him sway me this easily..." He hid his face in his hands.

"Rubbish!" Hawke reached out and pulled the healer's hands away and looked him into the eyes so he could see how seriously he meant it. "He rescued you and was willing to kill for your honour. It's romantic. If it would have happened to me I sure as hell would have been swayed too. You are a good person." Anders watched his friend with surprise, feeling relieved at his reassurance. "Yeah... Fenris is good at this whole protector thing. It's a part why I love him so much." For a moment he smiled because of the thought but then it vanished and he felt sad and hurt again. It ached in Hawkes heart seeing his friend this heartbroken.

"Is there a way for him to make this right?" Anders sighed as his heart broke. "I'm not sure he can. I know he loves me as much as I love him, maybe even more. And I understand that his jealousy is a because of his past as a slave , but as long as he can't manage to get rid of it I can't be with him. I don't want to fear of the well-being of all my friends and patients just because we get too friendly. I also don't want to over think each of my actions because he might interpret them wrong... But honestly I'm not sure I can live without him again... I need him, I need his love, I need the way he looks at me... I'm doomed..."

Hawke pulled him close and embraced him again. "We will work this out. If he loves you half as much as we both think, I'm sure that he can overcome his jealousy. But I think you were right breaking up. He needs some time alone. If you go right back to him, nothing will change. We just need to explain it to him. And I think it would be best, if you live as long as it takes here with me. You shouldn't be alone." "Thank you, but don't you think it makes it harder for him, if I live here?" "Yeah I think so, but it will also provide a greater incentive."

"Alright. Can you hold me a while?" "Sure, whatever you need."

~~ ~~

Nearly eleven months and three failed reunion attempts had passed. Nearly eleven months in which Fenris worked hard on his jealousy and anger issues. There were moments he thought, he could never be a better person. Moments when he thought everything was in vain and not worth the trouble. But then Fenris thought of Anders' warm smile, of the spark of happiness in his eyes every time Fenris had kissed him. He thought of how good his lover tasted and smelled, how it felt to touch and savour his body... And the warrior remembered why he wanted to change.

~

Now he came once more to Hawke's estate to pick up Anders. Fenris brought a bouquet of flowers with him, which not only looked lovely and smelled so prettily, but would also be able to be used for potions once they were dried.

Bodahn let him in and went to announce the elf while Fenris waited nervously in the entrance hall, fidgeting with the flowers he held in his hands.  His ears perked up when he heard steps coming closer. Suddenly he stood completely still, the bouquet forgotten in his left hand pointing towards the floor, his eyes transfixed on Anders walking down the stairs, his heart drumming in his ears. It wasn't like Andes looked any different to the last time the warrior had seen him, but it had been four months since their last break up and three months since they had agreed to  not see each other at all until Fenris was able to manage his jealousy issues. Anders smile was gorgeous, but even without it the mage was stunning.

After Bodahn announced Fenris, Anders stood and left the library. He walked quickly but quietly in direction of the stairs and stopped at the balustrade to watch his lover. Seeing how nervously the elf shifted his weight on his feet, scratching his calf with his foot, fidgeting with the flowers and straighting his clothes was just too endearing. The mage was also anxious. Their last break up had been hard and painful, but he still wanted Fenris back. After three months without any contact,  Anders was starved for the warriors attention and closeness. When the blonde stepped onto the first step it creaked  and the elf looked up, suddenly completely still. Anders breath hitched at the way Fenris looked at him, in complete awe and reverence bringing an involuntary smile to the mages lips.  Nobody, not even Karl had ever looked at him like that.

He  decended the stairs quickly. Both of them  looking only at each other, unaware of anything else. They were barely separated by a few steps when a voice demanded their attention.

"Anders! Anders wait." Neither of them had noticed Hawke's appearance until he spoke, turning in unison toward their friend. "Please come here for a moment, I want to say goodbye properly."

Anders exchanged a longing glance with Fenris before he went to Hawke. "I would have come to you to say goodbye before we left , Hawke.", he explained quietly.

"Yeah sure. I just wanted to..." The black haired man pulled Anders into a kiss.

Fenris closed his fists, but stayed still, his eyes transfixed on them both, his heart crushed from his fears coming true. When Anders announced that he would move in with Hawke till Fenris was able to hold his temper this was Fenris' greatest fear. Knowing that there had been a time when Anders  had a crush on their leader. Maker, surely anyone of their band of misfits had had a crush on hawke at some point in their journey. The Ferelden was cunning, handsome, funny, loyal and easy to be friends with. Fenris himself had had a crush on him for a while. Hawke had been the first human who had stood up for him, an elf, a slave. Forcefully the warrior took deep breaths, remembering the mantra Sebastian had taught him. ~Anders loves me and only me. If he needs help, he will give me a sign. Anders loves me and only me. If he needs help, he will give me a sign...~ Slowly he managed to breath away the urge to crush Hawke's bones and some of his tension left his body.

Anders was totally stunned and went rigid in Hawke's arms. ~What...~ A few minutes passed before the blonde finally came to himself. He pushed the bigger man back and slapped him hard across  the face. "How dare you to kiss me! You of all people should know who my heart belongs to! We are friends nothing more."

The impact of the slap had Hawke's head turned to the right side, his cheek burning red. Quietly laughing he rubbed it and turned to face Anders again, who raised his hand again furious seeing Hawke laughing. The other mage held his hands up. "Forgive me, it was just a test." He looked at Fenris. "Well done, it seems like this time you finally mastered your temper. Keep him  safe  and treasured like he deserves."

"I will."

He turned back to Anders. "I didn't want to see you broken again. The last time was hard enough..."

Anders gaze softened but he felt still angry. "I understand why you did what you did, but I do not approve. Never play with us again."

"I will not, I promise. And now go." The black haired waved them away. "You can get your things tomorrow, but for  now enjoy your date."

The healer nodded, went to Fenris, smiling brightly at him. "I'm proud of you." He took his hand.

"Anything to have you back, amatus. I am here for you." He finally gave him the bouquet. Anders took it and smelled on it. "Aw thank you." He pressed a chaste kiss on Fenris' lips "Let's go, love."