Work Text:
TIME ALONE
Hawke sat with her sister on a bench in the garden as Bethany nursed her new infant son, Malcolm Sebastian Vael. It was a lovely spring morning, and the azaleas and hyacinth were in full bloom, attracting the first butterflies of the season.
"Must you leave, Sister?" asked Bethany for the third or fourth time in as many days.
Hawke reached over and gently sifted her fingers through the shock of black hair on her nephew's head. "It's only for a few months," Hawke replied. "We'll be back for your Wintersend party."
"I almost wish I could go with you," Bethany said with a sigh. "Will you go to Lothering while you're in Ferelden?"
"Perhaps," said Hawke. "We'll see how the twins take to traveling."
"I'm going to miss them so," Bethany said as she lifted Malcolm to her shoulder and rubbed his back.
"We really appreciate that you're minding the twins while we, um…" Hawke hesitated… "prepare for the trip."
Bethany laughed. "No need to pretend with me, Sister," she said. "Time alone with your husband? No excuse necessary."
Hawke smiled dreamily as she took Malcolm from Bethany and hugged the baby close to her. "Little ones are wonderful…"
"But so is privacy," finished Bethany for her, laughing still.
It should have been easy enough. With four days all on their own, she and Fenris would travel to the hunting lodge, spend a few nights there alone, and then return to Starkhaven. Upon their return they would board the barge that would take them east on the Minanter River with Varric and the twins.
Simple plan.
How many times had they taken this footpath deep into the forest at the foot of the mountains? Countless times, that was how many. And how many times had bandits, raiders or even wolves waylaid them?
Never, that was how many.
This trip, however, appeared to be different. Only two hours outside of Starkhaven, Fenris had pulled her off to the side of the road under the cover of tall beech trees. His breath tickled her ear as he said, "Someone is approaching."
"Hide, stand or fight?" whispered Hawke.
Fenris peered through the trees to the road ahead. "Four, no five men. Armed and Armored."
Hawke glanced around her. "These trees provide no real cover," she said. "We'll try stand, and switch to fight if necessary."
Fenris nodded and they returned to the road and resumed walking at a casual pace.
"Well, what do we have here, boys?" asked the tall, gaped-tooth leader.
Hawke turned to Fenris. "Stand might not work," she said indifferently.
Fenris crossed his arms over his chest and questioned, "Give them a chance, perhaps?"
Hawke sighed. "Very well," she agreed, and then turned to the apparent leader. "What you have are two simple travelers who are not looking for any trouble."
The man took a step forward, and Hawke's nose wrinkled in distaste. He smelled like a combination of cheap whiskey and sewer. Wonderful.
"You're a pretty little thing," he said leering at her. "Whatcha doin' with a knife-eared freak like him?" He gestured a meaty paw at Fenris. "You need rescuing, girlie?" The men behind him laughed.
"Yeah, let's rescue her, Caster," said one of the followers, and there was no humor in is voice at all.
Hawke heard the low growl in Fenris' throat and knew they'd definitely moved into fight, which was fine with her. There was every chance this man might smell better if he were dead. She also couldn't let this Caster person get away with those disparaging remarks toward her husband, even though she knew he could handle these five on his own in a matter of minutes. Then an idea came to mind that would allow Fenris to do just that, and allow her to put them in their place.
"Think you boys can handle me, do you?" she asked in her best imitation of Isabela – a hand on one hip and a sassy grin on her face. She knew Fenris would wait for her signal, but she could practically feel the tension coming off him in waves.
There was a chorus of guffaws and laughter, and Caster said, "I'll have you singing to the Maker, girlie," and he took a step toward her.
Hawke put up a hand and waggled a finger at him, and there was a wicked grin on her face. "Oh no, no," she said, "first you must get permission from my husband." She stepped aside then, and in the space of a heartbeat Fenris was glowing blue and drawing his greatsword.
"Andraste's ass, what is that?" Caster bellowed as he drew his own sword. The men behind him began to back away, which was no surprise to Hawke. This sort were generally guaranteed to be cowards.
She had to admit watching Fenris fight, hearing his battle roar as he swept through the men as if they were so many twigs to be snapped, was… well, it was arousing. Especially since he was 'defending her honor.' It was something they both knew she was perfectly capable of doing for herself, which only made it all the more compelling. Her fingers itched to pull her daggers to join him, but she forced herself to remain still, simply watching as Fenris swung his blade in a great arc, and the thugs began to topple.
It was over in minutes, with only Caster was left alive, bleeding from his head and his chest, as he begged Fenris for his life. Her husband stood over the scoundrel, one foot pressed into the man's stomach. He turned back to Hawke, a question in his eyes.
She slowly sauntered over to him and looked down at Caster. "Apologize," was all she said.
Caster coughed, and choked out, "What?"
"If you wish to live, you will apologize to my husband," she said calmly.
Caster spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto the ground. "Crazy bitch," he said.
Hawke tugged on Fenris' arm, and he moved away without hesitation. She leaned down and said with a smile, "Last chance."
"Go fu…"
He got no further because Hawke's dagger was buried in his throat. Caster's eyes bulged and then he lay limp, the life gone from them.
She wiped her dagger on the man's pants before sheathing it, then turned to Fenris to find him watching her, one eyebrow lifted and a grim smile on his lips. His very sexy, kissable lips. Suddenly they were moving toward each other and her hands went into his hair as he grabbed her by the waist. Their lips met and parted, opening to each other in a frenzy of need. Really, she wanted to devour him right there among the corpses, but she pulled away and rested her forehead against his.
"Let's get away from here," she said breathlessly, and then squealed when he lifted her into his arms, and at a near-run moved off into the open floor of the forest. Hawke took advantage of how near her mouth was to his delectable neck. She pulled his salty skin between her lips and nibbled with her teeth. Fenris ran faster.
Finally the beech trees gave way to a copse of pines and fir; their soft needles carpeting the ground and releasing their pungent scent with each step Fenris took. He lowered her slowly to the ground only to pull her against him as she gained her footing. For all their earlier frenzy, Hawke suddenly felt as if time had now slowed to a crawl.
"Hawke," Fenris growled as began to unbuckle her armor. The sound sent a wave of heat through her belly and down her legs, making it difficult to stand. She leaned more heavily into him and sought his mouth again.
The kiss was slow and languid, punctuated by growls and murmurs, and still his busy hands were removing her armor until she stood only in her loose tunic. Hawke dropped to her knees and watched as he dispatched with his own armor in a slow, deliberate manner, his eyes never once leaving hers. It reminded her of those years in Kirkwall, when he'd looked at her that way, as if she were the only thing that existed for him in the entire world; and how for many years it was the only thing she'd had to hold onto.
Once he'd removed his armor, he stood looking down at her with his eyes ablaze, dressed only in his small clothes. The sinewy, muscled length of his torso faintly shone in the dappled light of the forest. Hawke reached out her arms to him and he dropped to his knees and surrendered into her embrace. For long moments they knelt there, arms around each other, not moving or saying anything. It was as if their love was a tangible thing – she could smell it on his skin, hear it in the soft breaths warming her ear, feel it pulsating through the strong arms wrapped around her.
She wanted to taste it, too. She began with the lobe of his ear, hovering so temptingly near to her mouth. His hands began to wander as her lips moved from his ear to trace the line of his jaw and pass lightly over his mouth. Strong fingers moved under her tunic and traced the line of her spine, ran lightly across her rib cage and then traced the shape of her breasts with a featherlight touch. Hawke shivered.
"Fenris," she said as she kissed his shoulder and ran her tongue along his collarbone and down to the hollow of his throat, where she began to nibble again.
"Hmm?" he murmured as his thumbs moved in lazy swirls her flesh.
She lifted her head and looked up at him, and his eyes were dark and hooded. He was regarding her with a delicious hunger that had her melting. "Happy Anniversary," she said.
His lips quirked in a smile. "Anniversary?"
Hawke nodded and ran her thumb along his bottom lip. "Nine years ago today, we first met."
His hands stilled and he regarded her seriously for a moment. "You remember the day," he said with some awe.
"You made an impression," she told him. "By the time we returned from the Deep Roads, you were all I could think about."
"How patient you were," he said and resumed his caresses. "How fortunate am I."
Hawke leaned into his hands. "The rewards for my patience have been great," she teased him.
"If I could give you more, I would," he growled as he pulled her into a hug.
"Oh yes," she said with a laugh. "A strong, handsome husband, beautiful, healthy children, and interesting life, incredible sex… you ser, are a slacker."
He pulled back and grinned at her. "Incredible?"
She considered for a moment. "Earth-shattering."
"Hmm," he growled.
She placed a soft kiss on his lips and whispered, "Perfect in every way."
And that was the last chance Hawke had to say anything for quite a while, as Fenris kept her very, very busy with his perfection.
"Papa! Papa! Papa!" sang Melody as she ran across the wide room and threw herself in her father's arm. Fenris scooped her up and twirled her in the air above his head, making her squeal in delight.
Farrell followed his sister at a much more sedate pace, but Hawke would have none of that and ran up to meet her little man. He wasn't much for scooping and flying, but when his mother lifted him into a hug, his arms went around her neck and clung tightly. Very softly he whispered in her ear, "I'm glad you're back, Mama."
Hawke was glad to be back, too. She'd loved every minute of her time away with Fenris, but by last night they were both missing the twins so much they'd nearly started for home in the dark.
"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Melody reached for her mother, and she traded children with Fenris. Her daughter was suddenly raining kisses all over her face, making Hawke laugh. "How's my sweet girl?" she asked.
"Mama, we made cake!" Melody sang.
"What kind of cake?" asked Hawke.
"Berry, berry, berry!" sang Melody.
"Strawberry, Melody," said Farrell from his perch on his father's shoulders.
Bethany came into the room then, carrying said cake. Sebastian followed behind with a tea tray loaded with cups and saucers and a large steaming teapot.
As they all settled down for tea and cake, Hawke knew she would come to miss this happy little domestic scene while they were away. And yet, her travels would only make her treasure it all the more when they returned.