Aine Hawke was feasting her dreamy eyes on Fenris stowing the books back on the library shelf after their reading lesson. She was pouring them drinks from the bottle gifted by Aveline, but her attention was fully grasped by Fenris' finely chiseled legs showing through the light leather pants he was wearing. She still could not believe she had managed to talk him into wearing just a tunic, without his armour plate, while they were at home. She was eyeing him lewdly, waiting for him to face her and offer her the sight of his slightly bared chest, with the lyrium markings peeking through. All this student-mentor dynamic was getting her quite aroused and she was expecting to talk Fenris into...doing some homework.
When she took two glasses off the table and looked up at him, however, she saw he was still glued to the bookshelves, holding something in his hand. By the way his neck muscles tensed she concluded he was either straining to read something, or he had read something that displeased him.
"Fenris, love, you've been a really good student today, and this brandy and I would love you to join us here. For a different kind of study." She assumed a sexy pose on the settee and hung the filled glasses in the air.
"Hm?" Fenris turned to her, clearly completely oblivious of what she had said, or what she was trying to achieve. Truth be told, Hawke was a talker, and Fenris, used to the solitary quiet, sometimes simply stopped listening to her chatter away. This, however, was different, as he was completely engrossed in reading the parchment he had found stuck in between the books.
"Did you know you have the Abomination's manifesto here?" he asked, and she realised her attempts to attract his attention had been wasted. She gave him a tiny scowl and raised a brow sarcastically.
"I didn't know about this particular copy but considering I've found his blighted manifesto just about everywhere, including shoved between the pages of the estate ownership documents, in last week's laundry, and in a barrel of pumpkins in the kitchen, I guess we should not be surprised?" Fenris did not appear to be amused, but rather still deeply focused.
"Have you ever read it? The whole of it I mean, before you burned it with a flick of your fingers?" She chuckled at him knowing her so well.
"I'll have you know I've actually not always abused my magic to get rid of Anders' crazy ideas. A few times I just tossed them into the fireplace." The elf was still standing there looking at her with a serious expression on his handsome face.
"Fenris, what is it? Just throw it away, won't you? I'll talk to Anders about not leaving any more of these on the estate." He frowned.
"No, Hawke, you don't understand," he started, "I..." It took him a few more moments and a few heavy sighs to finally spit it out. "I would like to read it. I want to try to understand what it is he is so stubborn about. I know you don't agree with him on everything, but you support the mages in so many ways. I thought this might...help me understand you better, too."
Aine was staring at him, her mouth open as if to speak, but her wits seemed to have left her at that moment. It had taken her years to make Fenris accept that she could be a mage and a decent person at the same time. She believed there were maniacs among all kinds of people, and mages were surely not all evil - she was not, and her dead sister had been further from evil that anyone she had ever known. She believed they deserved their freedom. Her repeatedly explaining and supporting all that with evidence still did not mean Fenris agreed with her, but he could live with her opinions. And this now, his willingness to go deeper into the subject painful for both of them for her sake, was something akin to when he had admitted he trusted her, even though she was a mage, and a powerful one at that.
Fenris had always shown scorn towards Anders, mainly because it was never only Anders. It was the presence of Justice that made the elf extremely uncomfortable. Hawke would have to admit Anders was never any friendlier towards Fenris himself, and the two men had confrontations on a nearly regular basis. Hawke was at times furious with Anders for attacking Fenris without reason, but at different times she thought she could understand. After all, Anders had been in love with her for years, but she had never returned his feelings. First she had only seen a friend in him and then, well, then she met Fenris, and that was it.
Hawke finally got herself together and, setting the glasses on the table with a clink, she took a few quick steps towards her lover and put her hands on his chest.
"This is...I love you for doing this. I know how hard it is for you and I do appreciate the effort. And I will show you my appreciation later." She winked and smiled, unable to stay serious for long. Fenris smirked.
"You better. Now, will you help me read it?"
They ended up spending hours reading the document, both Aine and Fenris cursing the mage's handwriting in the process. The reading was broken by frequent discussions, Aine doing her best to explain what exactly Anders meant, giving examples from experience, her own or that of the mages she had helped, or had failed to help before. She had always advocated that the Circles were not the solution, they just did not work properly. But she disagreed with Anders about any means to an end. And she knew Fenris was glad of that.
Fenris slumped back on the sofa, stretched his legs in the air, yawned, and rubbed his face.
"I just don't understand. How do Anders and Justice exist this way? How he hasn't gone completely mad yet. He is substantially mad admittedly but..." Hawke was lying with her head on his lap, looking up at him with a wide grin. When Fenris noticed it, his brows furrowed, and he snapped:
"What are you laughing about, woman?"
"This is the first time you haven't called them an abomination and a demon." That earned her a growl, which only made her laugh more, so Fenris quickly grabbed her and turned her around to lie bottom up.
"You. Are. So. Insufferable," he measured each slow word with a spank. Hawke felt the effect of that as the heat spreading between her legs. A little moan escaped her as she began squirming and rubbing herself against Fenris.
"And insatiable." He lifted her chin with his hand and, staring at her biting her lower lip and smirking at him wickedly, he uttered in an even lower-pitched than usual voice:
"It's a good thing I love a challenge. I'll just have to have a go at sating that appetite of yours."
She made sure he saw she was enjoying it immensely when he stood up, grabbed her by the shoulders, and jerked her into the standing position. He proceeded to pull her after him, as if making way for the bedroom, but stopped abruptly after a few steps, shoved her against the bookshelves, raised her arms up and held them there firmly with a hand. His kiss could have been described as forced, if only she had not been so willing. His other hand moved to let her tunic out of the tight leggings she was wearing, and followed underneath the fabric, to her smalls, already wet. The discovery brought a wolfish smirk to his lips as he went on to kiss her deeply and hungrily. They were both panting, but neither wanted to break the kiss to get some air. Pinned in place, Aine writhed, yearning for more contact, trying to make Fenris touch and press where she wanted him. Finally, Fenris let go of her lips but not her hands, separated himself from her body only a few inches, and spoke, his voice a deep rumble:
"Hmm, so impatient, aren't you? Mage?" She whimpered as his finger made its way inside her.
"Fenris, take my tunic off, please. I want to feel you on my skin, on my breasts," she asked ruggedly. He was not in the mood to answer all her requests though. He slid a second finger in and started pumping, pressing her clit with his palm at the same time. When she moaned out loud, he freed his hand from her leggings and clamped it over her mouth.
"You will have to be quieter. This is not your bedroom. And someone could hear you. And...interrupt this, Aine."
He marvelled at the effect both his teasing threat and the use of her first name had on her. She could not contain herself any longer, her eyes were pleading. He slowly removed his hand and brushed his thumb over her parted lips. It was his own fault, of course, as he knew she could never resist biting it, causing his lyrium to flare. It was strong enough to cause a bit of pain, and taking the advantage of his millisecond's inattention, she moved to take two of his fingers into her mouth and suck on them ravenously. It was Fenris' turn to groan with pleasure. He pressed himself against her, and she revelled at the full body contact, the erection she felt confined in his trousers making her hungrier yet. Fenris let go of Aine to hastily undo his pants and free his throbbing cock, only to thrust it into her after a rough pull on her leggings. They both gasped at him filling her.
A few books fell off the shelves, dislodged by the sharp move. She clasped at his neck, then grabbed a fistful of white hair in her now free hand, and dug the fingers of the other into his shoulder. As he lifted her by her ass and started thrusting with increasing speed, she wriggled her leg free of the leggings, and wrapped it around his hip. There was no time for her to trace the lines of his lyrium, their need was too intense. They kissed fiercely and greedily, his teeth and her nails breaking skin. Their lips parting for air, both panting, they looked at each other and could see the climax approaching in each other's heavy-lidded eyes. With the pressure on just the right spot, Hawke's release washed over her and she let out a scream which Fenris managed to partially cover with his hand. He continued pounding into her mercilessly, and his bite on her neck meant as punishment for not being quiet only made her quiver as she joined him in another orgasm.
Catching his breath, Fenris exhaled deeply and grumbled, his face still buried in the crook of her neck.
"How is it that you always get more? I wonder if that's some magic of yours that makes you come again and again." It was not really a question, just a tease, but Hawke replied, too satisfied to be sarcastic.
"It is you, love. You are my magic." Before, he would have taken offense at being compared with magic, and there would be no end to his derisive scoffs. Now he just smirked and let go of her.
"Get yourself in order, woman. We're going out."