For the Taking, Chapter 1
Mar. 17th, 2011 01:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bamftastikTitle: For the Taking, Chapter 1
Characters: Isabela/Fenris, Varric
Rating: NSFW
Words: 1,000
Summary: While the Hawke's away, the mice will... hang out in the pub and drink.
"Well, look who it is." Leaning an elbow on the table, Varric nodded toward the door.
The Hanged Man was more crowded than usual, but even the most studiously averted eye would not miss the elf skulking in the entryway. Fenris carried his conspicuousness with a strange sort of pride, simply one more weight heaped upon his already taut and stiffening shoulders. Catching his eye, Isabela grinned.
As the elf approached, Varric kicked a chair out from beneath their table. "Finally come down from Hightown to mingle with the unsavory sorts?"
Isabela turned as he sat, crossing her legs to rest a boot between his knees. Fenris smirked, his narrowed eyes following the length of leather and straps with a bemused sort of surprise.
She pursed her lips. "And what is it that you all day in that big, lonely mansion?"
"Create an aura of mystery to unsettle the neighbors."
"Hah! The elf told a joke! Will wonders never cease?" Varric filled another mug from their bottle, but Fenris waved it away.
"Our brooding warrior doesn't drink, Varric."
"No. I simply do not drink here."
Isabela chuckled, leaning to rest a hand on his arm. "That's right. There must be quite the wine cellar beneath that house. Empty bottles everywhere as I remember."
"If you are going to reveal all my secrets, I won't invite you over again."
"Whoa. Hey now." The dwarf held up a hand but his eyes glittered with curiosity.
"I simply used some contacts to settle a tax matter for him." Isabela flopped back in her chair, dropping her leg under the table as she folded her arms. "How utterly boring."
Fenris only smiled, lowering his brows as he leaned heavy on an elbow.
After a moment, Varric sighed. "So where do you suppose they went this time? Hawke and Anders and Aveline?"
"Helping the Starkhaven boy, so I hear."
Isabela looked sideways at Fenris. "Ooh. I can't say that I blame her. Nice eyes, that one."
"Planning on making a necklace?"
"Don't be jealous." She took a long drink. "It's not as though Hawke can see past the end of Anders' staff anyway."
Varric grinned. "Now who's jealous?"
"The secrets, the loaded gazes... they can be intriguing for a time, but they are oh so tiring." She came to her feet slowly, stretching as she took up her mug. "I much prefer to skip right to the fun bits. I see something I want and I take it."
"So you say." Fenris smirked but kept his eyes on the table, deliberately avoiding her gaze.
With a wink for Varric, Isabela plopped down on the elf's lap and propped her boots on the table. She took a long sip, watching him over the rim of her cup.
"And on that note, I think I hear Bianca calling me."
"Finish your drink." There was little invitation in the elf's words, his eyes holding fast to Isabela's as he snarled. But he made no move to remove her.
"Hm. Awkward."
"So tell me..." She trailed a finger along the neck of Fenris' armor. "How far down do the markings go?"
"That's it? That is your best attempt?"
"If I thought you were worthy of my best, you would know it. This is merely a point of curiosity."
"And you thought that it would work?"
She tilted her head. "It has before."
"That I do not doubt."
Across the table, Varric set his mug on its head. "There. All finished. And I'd say it's time for bed."
"Agreed." Fenris rose to his feet, leaving Isabela to catch her balance against the table or be thrown to the floor. "I simply did not want to see you waste your drink. Such fine spirits are hard to come by."
"You keep this humor thing up and I'll have to alert the Chantry, tell them to put it on the calendar."
The two shared a nod before turning away - Varric for the stairs and Fenris for the door. Folding her arms, Isabela stared after them both. "You still owe me a game, Varric."
"Maybe tomorrow, sweetheart. Suddenly I'm bushed."
She sniffed, scowling at his back until he disappeared.
"Are you coming?"
Turning, she found Fenris leaning still in the doorway, watching her with a knowing smirk.
"Oh, absolutely."
They did not make it two paces beyond the Hanged Man before she grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back against the wall. He responded slowly, almost maddeningly so, before pulling back to look at her.
"Hm."
"'Hm?' I have to admit that's not entirely the reaction I was hoping for."
"And do you always get what you hope for?"
"Generally, yes."
His eyes were fixed beyond her, his nod indicating a pair of gawking refugees. Laughing, Isabela took him by the collar, hauling him almost bodily into the nearest alley. His lips found hers now, his arms snaking low to crush her to him.
But again he tilted his face away, chuckling beneath his breath.
"What?"
"The dwarf and I had a bet. About whether you wear anything beneath your... dress." His hand tensed where it rested against her bottom. "It seems I have my answer. I should go and tell him."
"You will tell him nothing."
"Exactly."
She leaned close to nibble at his chin, but his hands wrapped now around her arms, holding her at a distance.
"There is... something I should tell you."
"Now? The whole brooding-with-a-dark-past thing works for you - trust me - but do we have to do this now?"
He seemed to consider it, staring down at her for a long moment. He chuckled suddenly, shaking his head with something almost like relief. "...No. No, we do not."
"Good."
Again his lips found hers - licking, sucking, biting. His hands, too, seemed to be everywhere - no longer timid, no longer gentle - as they slipped behind her thighs and drew her legs around him.
Characters: Isabela/Fenris, Varric
Rating: NSFW
Words: 1,000
Summary: While the Hawke's away, the mice will... hang out in the pub and drink.
"Well, look who it is." Leaning an elbow on the table, Varric nodded toward the door.
The Hanged Man was more crowded than usual, but even the most studiously averted eye would not miss the elf skulking in the entryway. Fenris carried his conspicuousness with a strange sort of pride, simply one more weight heaped upon his already taut and stiffening shoulders. Catching his eye, Isabela grinned.
As the elf approached, Varric kicked a chair out from beneath their table. "Finally come down from Hightown to mingle with the unsavory sorts?"
Isabela turned as he sat, crossing her legs to rest a boot between his knees. Fenris smirked, his narrowed eyes following the length of leather and straps with a bemused sort of surprise.
She pursed her lips. "And what is it that you all day in that big, lonely mansion?"
"Create an aura of mystery to unsettle the neighbors."
"Hah! The elf told a joke! Will wonders never cease?" Varric filled another mug from their bottle, but Fenris waved it away.
"Our brooding warrior doesn't drink, Varric."
"No. I simply do not drink here."
Isabela chuckled, leaning to rest a hand on his arm. "That's right. There must be quite the wine cellar beneath that house. Empty bottles everywhere as I remember."
"If you are going to reveal all my secrets, I won't invite you over again."
"Whoa. Hey now." The dwarf held up a hand but his eyes glittered with curiosity.
"I simply used some contacts to settle a tax matter for him." Isabela flopped back in her chair, dropping her leg under the table as she folded her arms. "How utterly boring."
Fenris only smiled, lowering his brows as he leaned heavy on an elbow.
After a moment, Varric sighed. "So where do you suppose they went this time? Hawke and Anders and Aveline?"
"Helping the Starkhaven boy, so I hear."
Isabela looked sideways at Fenris. "Ooh. I can't say that I blame her. Nice eyes, that one."
"Planning on making a necklace?"
"Don't be jealous." She took a long drink. "It's not as though Hawke can see past the end of Anders' staff anyway."
Varric grinned. "Now who's jealous?"
"The secrets, the loaded gazes... they can be intriguing for a time, but they are oh so tiring." She came to her feet slowly, stretching as she took up her mug. "I much prefer to skip right to the fun bits. I see something I want and I take it."
"So you say." Fenris smirked but kept his eyes on the table, deliberately avoiding her gaze.
With a wink for Varric, Isabela plopped down on the elf's lap and propped her boots on the table. She took a long sip, watching him over the rim of her cup.
"And on that note, I think I hear Bianca calling me."
"Finish your drink." There was little invitation in the elf's words, his eyes holding fast to Isabela's as he snarled. But he made no move to remove her.
"Hm. Awkward."
"So tell me..." She trailed a finger along the neck of Fenris' armor. "How far down do the markings go?"
"That's it? That is your best attempt?"
"If I thought you were worthy of my best, you would know it. This is merely a point of curiosity."
"And you thought that it would work?"
She tilted her head. "It has before."
"That I do not doubt."
Across the table, Varric set his mug on its head. "There. All finished. And I'd say it's time for bed."
"Agreed." Fenris rose to his feet, leaving Isabela to catch her balance against the table or be thrown to the floor. "I simply did not want to see you waste your drink. Such fine spirits are hard to come by."
"You keep this humor thing up and I'll have to alert the Chantry, tell them to put it on the calendar."
The two shared a nod before turning away - Varric for the stairs and Fenris for the door. Folding her arms, Isabela stared after them both. "You still owe me a game, Varric."
"Maybe tomorrow, sweetheart. Suddenly I'm bushed."
She sniffed, scowling at his back until he disappeared.
"Are you coming?"
Turning, she found Fenris leaning still in the doorway, watching her with a knowing smirk.
"Oh, absolutely."
They did not make it two paces beyond the Hanged Man before she grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back against the wall. He responded slowly, almost maddeningly so, before pulling back to look at her.
"Hm."
"'Hm?' I have to admit that's not entirely the reaction I was hoping for."
"And do you always get what you hope for?"
"Generally, yes."
His eyes were fixed beyond her, his nod indicating a pair of gawking refugees. Laughing, Isabela took him by the collar, hauling him almost bodily into the nearest alley. His lips found hers now, his arms snaking low to crush her to him.
But again he tilted his face away, chuckling beneath his breath.
"What?"
"The dwarf and I had a bet. About whether you wear anything beneath your... dress." His hand tensed where it rested against her bottom. "It seems I have my answer. I should go and tell him."
"You will tell him nothing."
"Exactly."
She leaned close to nibble at his chin, but his hands wrapped now around her arms, holding her at a distance.
"There is... something I should tell you."
"Now? The whole brooding-with-a-dark-past thing works for you - trust me - but do we have to do this now?"
He seemed to consider it, staring down at her for a long moment. He chuckled suddenly, shaking his head with something almost like relief. "...No. No, we do not."
"Good."
Again his lips found hers - licking, sucking, biting. His hands, too, seemed to be everywhere - no longer timid, no longer gentle - as they slipped behind her thighs and drew her legs around him.
