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bamftastikTitle: Monsters
Characters: Hawke/Anders, Hawke/Fenris
Rating: NSFW
Words: 2,000
Summary: Fenris visits Hawke's home to apologize for a past outburst and finds something unexpected.
"Don't go," she had said.
Leaning now against the shadowed wall of the courtyard, he snorted. What was he doing here, staring up at some lighted but forbidden window, tasting and retasting remembered words? He may as well have brought a lute, composed an artful sonnet, something suitably awful that would be sure to make her swoon. Somehow, though, he suspected Hawke was not the swooning type.
An apology should be a simple thing. There was nothing to be gained in hesitation. With another bitter chuckle, Fenris slipped toward the door.
"Different," he had called them and they were at that. He had not understood her blind trust in those that were sure to betray her, her fondness for the little Dalish blood mage, her tolerance of the irritating abomination. But when last she had visited him...
"I have spent my entire life hiding from the Templars, protecting my sister at any cost. Though it does not much matter now."
"You are bitter." He had taken the chain across from her, leaning an elbow on the arm as he took a long pull from the bottle that they shared.
"No... and yes. Perhaps. But it is not about how I feel. She is my sister and she does not deserve to be a slave."
He sighed, turning again to the wine.
"Do you truly not remember?"
"Being a slave?"
"Having a sister."
He set the bottle down with an echoing clink. "Hadriana is a liar."
Hawke leaned close, her hand straying to his knee in a moment that gave them both pause. "You don't look so sure."
He pulled quickly away, pushing to his feet and striding to the fire. But she had followed, insistent beyond reason.
"I just... thought that maybe you might understand. What it is like to care for someone, despite the dangers, despite all sense."
He could feel her behind him, a shadow stirring at his back. But there was something more, looming heavy enough to make him shut his eyes. "I killed the only people who ever cared for me. And if I had a sister, I do not remember her."
"Fenris..."
"You should go."
When he turned round, she had been staring at him. Anger was the only name he could give it, the only name that he had cared too. And so he had risen to it with anger of his own, pushing roughly past her as he snatched up the bottle and disappeared into the inner rooms.
Hawke had not been waiting when he returned. He had not expected her to be. But now he found himself skulking beneath her window, failing again to put words to the need that had drawn him here, the guilt that would not let him rest. Steeling himself, he raised his hand to the door.
It was Orana that answered, her meek eyes long in rising to meet his own. But seeing him there, she smiled. "Master Fenris."
"I am not your master." He stepped past, pausing long enough to examine the garish robe that had replaced her slave's shift. He could not help but quirk a brow.
The girl flushed. "My mistress..."
"Is telling you what to wear now?"
"No I... I picked it out myself. S-she is paying me well, ser."
He chuckled. There was no accounting for taste. But the girl was yet another thing about Hawke that he had failed to understand, had not wanted to.
There was a clamor in the hallway behind them, the old dwarf Bohdan appearing panting in the doorway. "Orana! F-Fenris!" His eyes swung wild between them, landing on Orana with a loaded glare. "What are you doing?"
"He knocked. It was..." She clapped a hand over her mouth, clearly catching the dwarf's meaning. Turning on her heel, she bolted for the kitchens.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing. Nothing, good ser. The girl is simply a bit strange." He moved to Fenris' side, making as if to usher him back out the door. "But Hawke is not in. If you'll only come back another time..."
"I saw the light in her window. She's in. And I... have need to speak with her." Skirting the dwarf's grip, he made for the stairs.
"Ser, you mustn't..."
The younger of the two dwarfs waited in the next room, blinking up at Fenris as he passed.
"Is Hawke in, little one?"
Sandal grinned. "Enchantment!"
Smirking back at Bohdan, Fenris nodded. "You are a loyal one. But be assured that you have nothing to fear from me." He did not stay to watch the dwarf ring his hands, to see him muttering into his beard.
Hawke's door was ajar as he approached, the flickering light of the hearth spilling out into the darkened hall. Fenris raised his hand to knock, but let it trail instead along the wood, resting his face against the doorframe to peer into the narrow gap.
The mage.
It burned like fire along his skin, the sudden pain causing him to stagger back in horror. But he pushed himself forward, biting a gasp as he again put his eye to the opening.
They stood outlined before the hearth, Hawke and the demon Anders. He rushed her as Fenris watched, snaking a hand behind her head to pull her mouth roughly to his. And she... she seemed to share his ardor, rising up of her toes to meet him, pushing them back toward the bed. As the mage's hand slipped low to guide her leg around him, Fenris told himself that he should turn away.
She was moving away now, laying back upon the bed. But still she held to the mage's hand, smirking up at him as she drew him down to meet her.
For some time there was only pain. But Fenris held his vigil, did not flinch as the clothes began to fall, flung uncaring from that tangle of limbs. He heard it when she gasped, pinched shut his eyes to keep from crying out with her. When the mage shifted, those broad shoulders moving aside to reveal her lying there, he felt that he could stand it no more.
Hawke sat up then, lounging as naturally as he had ever seen her, as calm and confident as she had been in all their long hours of conversation. But it was another beside her now, pausing a moment as she stroked a hand along his cheek, the other pulling free the tie that bound his hair. She ran her fingers through it, smiling a familiar quiet smile, perhaps the one thing that Fenris had hoped to see this night.
"What it is like to care for someone, despite the dangers, despite all sense." So she had said. And again he had failed to hear her.
It was Anders that lay back now, smiling with her as she rose above him, turning her back to Fenris. He could see something of the mage's face, his head lolling against the blankets, sharing that calm, that restful smile. As she rose and fell faster against him, it twisted, the teeth that she buried in his neck drawing a gasp of pain. But as in all things, Hawke was not to be deterred.
It was as Fenris had imagined it, the realization of how often he had done so sending a strange cold through his stomach.
The mage was sharing his discomfort, it seemed. His eyes pinched shut, jaw working almost panicked as her mouth moved to his chest. Anders turned his face away as she quickened again, a deep bite ripping a choked scream from his throat. He stiffened, those eyes flying open with all the fury of the demon within.
"No!" Anders launched himself upward before Fenris could react, taking Hawke roughly by the shoulders. But he pressed her back beneath him, never leaving her, his movements slow and deliberate as he fell against her. His shoulders hunched, head shaking as she peered up at him.
"Anders..."
"I... I'm in control. Just... let me be in control."
She twined her arms around him, drawing him down to bury his face in her chest. Her legs, too, wrapped round, welcoming and protecting, her hips rocking with the slow rhythm of his thrusts.
This was something else. Even after... this is something that he could not bear to see. Fenris turned away in disgust.
The dwarves and Orana made no move to stop him as he stalked back through the mansion; Bohdan actually leaped out of his way. But he did not see them. He did not see anything.
* * *
She wasted no time. The sun had barely reached its peak when the knock sounded on its door. He did not have many visitors - and those only the companions that she had given him - but he need not look to know who it was.
"Hawke."
She followed him though the house without a word, but he kept his head down, his face turned away. Even from the corner of his eye, he tried not to study her too closely. World the abomination's influence have left its mark? Worse yet, would the man's?
"Still brooding?"
His head snapped up, surprise and outrage dying as his eyes met hers. It had been merely an offhanded comment, one that she had posed to him many times, in fact. Of course. She would not know what he had seen, would even assume that their last conversation was nothing that could not be continued, could not be... remedied.
Lounging back in her accustomed chair, she smiled up at him.
"What do you want, Hawke?"
"I came to apologize."
He sneered without thinking, turning away before she could truly see.
"I did not mean to push. I was merely trying to explain my point of view. About mages."
"So noted." He folded his arms.
"That's it?" She pushed to her feet, moving to stand before him. "We don't see eye to eye, you've said it yourself. But we can't even talk about it anymore? A few words and you turn your back on me?"
"Words." His lip curled.
"What is wrong with you?" She looked truly angry now. "We've always been able to... I mean, I thought we would..." With a wave of her hand, she turned away, shaking her head with a sigh. "But what was I thinking? I mean, you made it clear that we..."
Grabbing her arm, he spun her back to face him. "I apologize. For my... abruptness when last we spoke." His grip tightened. "I would have told you this myself... I attempted to. When I came to your home last night."
Her jaw twitched but she held it firm, meeting his stare. "You... were there last night."
He snorted.
But it was Hawke's turn to glare. "That is none of your business. Particularly when you've made it abundantly clear that you had no interest in..."
"I said no such thing." Releasing her, he flung her arm away. "And yet I should have expected this. You are impatient. You do not think. It is simply one more poor choice in a meaningless fool's existence."
"Fool, am I?"
"He is an abomination!" He made as if to shake her but held himself in check, standing just before her, daring her to move.
"I care for him."
He tilted his chin, watching her from beneath lowered brows. "Then tell me to go."
Hawke did not flinch.
"You would give yourself to a monster?" Holding up a hand between them, he felt the markings burn, watched the glow lace from his elbow in snaking tendrils.
She ran her fingers there, touching but not, trailing through the mists.
He moved before she could cry out, thrusting his arm low and through her, cupping his hand just so. It would not hurt her, no, not much.
Hawke gasped, wide-eyed and trembling as her eyes followed the length of his arm, the glowing lines disappearing where they reached her breeches. Fenris twisted, running a tongue cross his lips as she sagged against him. He pulled his hand free, laying it instead against her back, rubbing there as her head fell against his shoulder.
He chuckled. "You see...?"
But her head snapped up, lips finding his as she pulled him to her, as she spun to pin him back against the wall. The impact took his breath away but it returned in a gasping laugh, lost again beneath her lips.
Characters: Hawke/Anders, Hawke/Fenris
Rating: NSFW
Words: 2,000
Summary: Fenris visits Hawke's home to apologize for a past outburst and finds something unexpected.
"Don't go," she had said.
Leaning now against the shadowed wall of the courtyard, he snorted. What was he doing here, staring up at some lighted but forbidden window, tasting and retasting remembered words? He may as well have brought a lute, composed an artful sonnet, something suitably awful that would be sure to make her swoon. Somehow, though, he suspected Hawke was not the swooning type.
An apology should be a simple thing. There was nothing to be gained in hesitation. With another bitter chuckle, Fenris slipped toward the door.
"Different," he had called them and they were at that. He had not understood her blind trust in those that were sure to betray her, her fondness for the little Dalish blood mage, her tolerance of the irritating abomination. But when last she had visited him...
"I have spent my entire life hiding from the Templars, protecting my sister at any cost. Though it does not much matter now."
"You are bitter." He had taken the chain across from her, leaning an elbow on the arm as he took a long pull from the bottle that they shared.
"No... and yes. Perhaps. But it is not about how I feel. She is my sister and she does not deserve to be a slave."
He sighed, turning again to the wine.
"Do you truly not remember?"
"Being a slave?"
"Having a sister."
He set the bottle down with an echoing clink. "Hadriana is a liar."
Hawke leaned close, her hand straying to his knee in a moment that gave them both pause. "You don't look so sure."
He pulled quickly away, pushing to his feet and striding to the fire. But she had followed, insistent beyond reason.
"I just... thought that maybe you might understand. What it is like to care for someone, despite the dangers, despite all sense."
He could feel her behind him, a shadow stirring at his back. But there was something more, looming heavy enough to make him shut his eyes. "I killed the only people who ever cared for me. And if I had a sister, I do not remember her."
"Fenris..."
"You should go."
When he turned round, she had been staring at him. Anger was the only name he could give it, the only name that he had cared too. And so he had risen to it with anger of his own, pushing roughly past her as he snatched up the bottle and disappeared into the inner rooms.
Hawke had not been waiting when he returned. He had not expected her to be. But now he found himself skulking beneath her window, failing again to put words to the need that had drawn him here, the guilt that would not let him rest. Steeling himself, he raised his hand to the door.
It was Orana that answered, her meek eyes long in rising to meet his own. But seeing him there, she smiled. "Master Fenris."
"I am not your master." He stepped past, pausing long enough to examine the garish robe that had replaced her slave's shift. He could not help but quirk a brow.
The girl flushed. "My mistress..."
"Is telling you what to wear now?"
"No I... I picked it out myself. S-she is paying me well, ser."
He chuckled. There was no accounting for taste. But the girl was yet another thing about Hawke that he had failed to understand, had not wanted to.
There was a clamor in the hallway behind them, the old dwarf Bohdan appearing panting in the doorway. "Orana! F-Fenris!" His eyes swung wild between them, landing on Orana with a loaded glare. "What are you doing?"
"He knocked. It was..." She clapped a hand over her mouth, clearly catching the dwarf's meaning. Turning on her heel, she bolted for the kitchens.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing. Nothing, good ser. The girl is simply a bit strange." He moved to Fenris' side, making as if to usher him back out the door. "But Hawke is not in. If you'll only come back another time..."
"I saw the light in her window. She's in. And I... have need to speak with her." Skirting the dwarf's grip, he made for the stairs.
"Ser, you mustn't..."
The younger of the two dwarfs waited in the next room, blinking up at Fenris as he passed.
"Is Hawke in, little one?"
Sandal grinned. "Enchantment!"
Smirking back at Bohdan, Fenris nodded. "You are a loyal one. But be assured that you have nothing to fear from me." He did not stay to watch the dwarf ring his hands, to see him muttering into his beard.
Hawke's door was ajar as he approached, the flickering light of the hearth spilling out into the darkened hall. Fenris raised his hand to knock, but let it trail instead along the wood, resting his face against the doorframe to peer into the narrow gap.
The mage.
It burned like fire along his skin, the sudden pain causing him to stagger back in horror. But he pushed himself forward, biting a gasp as he again put his eye to the opening.
They stood outlined before the hearth, Hawke and the demon Anders. He rushed her as Fenris watched, snaking a hand behind her head to pull her mouth roughly to his. And she... she seemed to share his ardor, rising up of her toes to meet him, pushing them back toward the bed. As the mage's hand slipped low to guide her leg around him, Fenris told himself that he should turn away.
She was moving away now, laying back upon the bed. But still she held to the mage's hand, smirking up at him as she drew him down to meet her.
For some time there was only pain. But Fenris held his vigil, did not flinch as the clothes began to fall, flung uncaring from that tangle of limbs. He heard it when she gasped, pinched shut his eyes to keep from crying out with her. When the mage shifted, those broad shoulders moving aside to reveal her lying there, he felt that he could stand it no more.
Hawke sat up then, lounging as naturally as he had ever seen her, as calm and confident as she had been in all their long hours of conversation. But it was another beside her now, pausing a moment as she stroked a hand along his cheek, the other pulling free the tie that bound his hair. She ran her fingers through it, smiling a familiar quiet smile, perhaps the one thing that Fenris had hoped to see this night.
"What it is like to care for someone, despite the dangers, despite all sense." So she had said. And again he had failed to hear her.
It was Anders that lay back now, smiling with her as she rose above him, turning her back to Fenris. He could see something of the mage's face, his head lolling against the blankets, sharing that calm, that restful smile. As she rose and fell faster against him, it twisted, the teeth that she buried in his neck drawing a gasp of pain. But as in all things, Hawke was not to be deterred.
It was as Fenris had imagined it, the realization of how often he had done so sending a strange cold through his stomach.
The mage was sharing his discomfort, it seemed. His eyes pinched shut, jaw working almost panicked as her mouth moved to his chest. Anders turned his face away as she quickened again, a deep bite ripping a choked scream from his throat. He stiffened, those eyes flying open with all the fury of the demon within.
"No!" Anders launched himself upward before Fenris could react, taking Hawke roughly by the shoulders. But he pressed her back beneath him, never leaving her, his movements slow and deliberate as he fell against her. His shoulders hunched, head shaking as she peered up at him.
"Anders..."
"I... I'm in control. Just... let me be in control."
She twined her arms around him, drawing him down to bury his face in her chest. Her legs, too, wrapped round, welcoming and protecting, her hips rocking with the slow rhythm of his thrusts.
This was something else. Even after... this is something that he could not bear to see. Fenris turned away in disgust.
The dwarves and Orana made no move to stop him as he stalked back through the mansion; Bohdan actually leaped out of his way. But he did not see them. He did not see anything.
She wasted no time. The sun had barely reached its peak when the knock sounded on its door. He did not have many visitors - and those only the companions that she had given him - but he need not look to know who it was.
"Hawke."
She followed him though the house without a word, but he kept his head down, his face turned away. Even from the corner of his eye, he tried not to study her too closely. World the abomination's influence have left its mark? Worse yet, would the man's?
"Still brooding?"
His head snapped up, surprise and outrage dying as his eyes met hers. It had been merely an offhanded comment, one that she had posed to him many times, in fact. Of course. She would not know what he had seen, would even assume that their last conversation was nothing that could not be continued, could not be... remedied.
Lounging back in her accustomed chair, she smiled up at him.
"What do you want, Hawke?"
"I came to apologize."
He sneered without thinking, turning away before she could truly see.
"I did not mean to push. I was merely trying to explain my point of view. About mages."
"So noted." He folded his arms.
"That's it?" She pushed to her feet, moving to stand before him. "We don't see eye to eye, you've said it yourself. But we can't even talk about it anymore? A few words and you turn your back on me?"
"Words." His lip curled.
"What is wrong with you?" She looked truly angry now. "We've always been able to... I mean, I thought we would..." With a wave of her hand, she turned away, shaking her head with a sigh. "But what was I thinking? I mean, you made it clear that we..."
Grabbing her arm, he spun her back to face him. "I apologize. For my... abruptness when last we spoke." His grip tightened. "I would have told you this myself... I attempted to. When I came to your home last night."
Her jaw twitched but she held it firm, meeting his stare. "You... were there last night."
He snorted.
But it was Hawke's turn to glare. "That is none of your business. Particularly when you've made it abundantly clear that you had no interest in..."
"I said no such thing." Releasing her, he flung her arm away. "And yet I should have expected this. You are impatient. You do not think. It is simply one more poor choice in a meaningless fool's existence."
"Fool, am I?"
"He is an abomination!" He made as if to shake her but held himself in check, standing just before her, daring her to move.
"I care for him."
He tilted his chin, watching her from beneath lowered brows. "Then tell me to go."
Hawke did not flinch.
"You would give yourself to a monster?" Holding up a hand between them, he felt the markings burn, watched the glow lace from his elbow in snaking tendrils.
She ran her fingers there, touching but not, trailing through the mists.
He moved before she could cry out, thrusting his arm low and through her, cupping his hand just so. It would not hurt her, no, not much.
Hawke gasped, wide-eyed and trembling as her eyes followed the length of his arm, the glowing lines disappearing where they reached her breeches. Fenris twisted, running a tongue cross his lips as she sagged against him. He pulled his hand free, laying it instead against her back, rubbing there as her head fell against his shoulder.
He chuckled. "You see...?"
But her head snapped up, lips finding his as she pulled him to her, as she spun to pin him back against the wall. The impact took his breath away but it returned in a gasping laugh, lost again beneath her lips.
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Date: 2011-03-17 06:44 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2011-03-17 07:13 pm (UTC)