The rumble and crash of falling rock was so loud that Hawke’s ears took a moment to adjust to the sudden silence broken only by the sound of sand and pebbles sliding over stone. He could feel the magebane slithering through his veins, and he pushed the last of his strength into his shield as Fenris roughly pulled him out from under the rubble of the cave-in.
The shield blinked out as his power faded, leaving the cave completely black. “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” Hawke said weakly. He was terrified of the dark, but only Bethany had known that.
“Hm. That will not be a problem,” Fenris said as he sat down and gently shifted Hawke’s head into his lap. Although he was completely blind, he could sense the elf moving around. The sound of clasps coming undone told him Fenris was removing his gauntlets, and his theory was proven correct when a bare hand brushed the hair out of his eyes. A pale silvery-blue light spread up from the markings in his fingers to his elbow.
Fenris looked down at him with green eyes full of concern. “Are you all right, Gabe?” he asked gruffly.
Hawke smiled, and he hoped it was reassuring. “I’ve been worse,” he said lightly. “But I must say, not having access to my magic is rather disturbing. I’ve gotten rather used to having it around.” He wouldn’t tell Fenris about the itching under his skin, and the headache that was starting to develop. They were in enough trouble, and he didn’t want to add to it.
Fenris’ frown deepened anyway. “What is wrong with your magic?” He swallowed nervously. “If you are low on mana… you may use me.”
Hawke couldn’t suppress the leer, although he really tried because he knew from stories Fenris had told him how unpleasant it was to have power pulled from his markings. “This isn’t really the most romantic spot for those kinds of activities,” he teased. When Fenris rolled his eyes and grumbled something in Tevene he chuckled. “I know what you meant, love. But lyrium won’t help me. That arrow in my leg was coated in magebane.”
More foreign words spilled from Fenris’ lips and Hawke tried to memorize them. Swearing in other languages was an art he needed to learn so he’d sound more sophisticated at the parties he had to attend in his bid for the Viscount’s seat. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the person speaking them had a voice like rough leather and made him want to hear dirty words in that language instead of curses.
“Hawke? Broodie? Can you hear me?” Varric’s voice was barely audible through all the rock, but it was enough to cause a few more pebbles to fall from the ceiling.
“We hear you!” Fenris called. He gingerly moved Hawke and got up to approach the wall. He activated his markings to keep them glowing. “Hawke is injured and can’t use his magic. We’ll need you to dig us out.”
“That’s not a good idea at the moment,” Varric replied. “We tried pulling out a few rocks and more came down. We’re going to need Blondie or Daisy’s help so the rest of us don’t get buried.”
“Well that’s bad news,” Hawke murmured. Both mages were back in the city. It would be at least a two day trip to get them here.
Fenris threw a glance at him over his shoulder before he turned back to the wall of rock. “Get them then,” he called. “We’ll be all right.”
Once the dwarf had agreed, Fenris came back to him and looked down at the arrow in Hawke’s leg. “Would it be better for me to leave that in there?” he asked.
Hawke shook his head. “No, get it out. The wood must have been soaked in magebane because I can still feel it getting into my blood.”
Fenris gave him a nod of understanding and squatted down next to his leg. A low thrum of sound filled the air as he phased his hand and reached through Hawke’s flesh to wrap his fingers around the wood. Contact with the elf caused the arrow to also phase and Fenris was able to pull it out with very little pain, and no additional damage. He glared at the arrow for a moment and tossed it over his shoulder before he ripped away some of Hawke’s cloak to make a bandage.
Once he was finished dressing the injury he moved up Hawke’s body and sat down, allowing Hawke to use his lap as a pillow again. “You can’t just phase through the wall?” Hawke asked groggily.
“Maybe through a few inches, but a wall that thick would be impossible,” Fenris said, his voice full of wry amusement. “And I would not leave you here alone.”
Hawke was relieved to hear that. Just the thought of being in a pitch black, enclosed space made his heartbeat speed up madly. Being alone in there was more than he thought he’d be able to handle. He smiled at Fenris, and resisted the urge to close his eyes against the headache that was becoming much more insistent. Slim fingers brushed through his hair and over his face, tracing the creases in his forehead.
“Gabe,” Fenris said after a few moments. “What’s wrong?”
Damn the elf for knowing him so well. “It’s just a headache,” he mumbled. It was true enough. The pain in his head combined with the throb in his thigh and the itching under his skin was making him quite miserable. He didn’t want to admit that he was afraid.
Fenris grunted in annoyance. “It is more than that,” he said.
“How long can you keep your markings active?” Hawke asked in a small voice.
His lover’s eyes widened in surprise at the question. “I don’t know,” he said. “Phasing takes a lot of energy, but just keeping them active like this… I’ve never tested it.” Fenris’ face twisted into a confused frown. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Gabe,” he said softly.
Hawke sighed in irritation. “I’m afraid of the dark, alright?”
Fenris’ frown faded, to be replaced by a look of understanding. “Well that explains why you always keep a fire in the hearth even in the middle of summer.” His look turned thoughtful. “I may not be able to keep my markings active for more than a few hours,” he said.
An involuntary whimper escaped Hawke before he could stop it. He blamed the arrow wound and the magebane for his lack of control.
“Shh,” Fenris soothed. He brushed his fingers over Hawke’s face and the markings brightened briefly, catching his attention. “Hm. I may not be able to keep them active, but you can,” he said.
“What?” Hawke asked. “How? I can’t-”
Fenris grabbed his hand and held their clasped fingers up where Hawke could see them. “You may not be able to control your magic because of the poison,” he said. “But it’s still there. My markings are still responding to you.”
Relief washed through Hawke in waves. “Thank the Maker,” he sighed. As the fear faded, he felt his eyelids droop.
“Tired?” Fenris asked.
Hawke nodded. It had been a long day. They had arisen early to make their way out to the Wounded Coast, and by the time they’d reached the cave where the slavers were rumored to be hiding it had been late afternoon. He mentally calculated the hours they’d spent in the cave. It was probably after dark at this point.
Fenris helped him remove some of his armor and clothing then made a small nest of their cloaks. He stripped down to his leggings, and lay down next to Hawke. Light spread through his markings a few inches in every direction from where their skin touched.
They lay on their sides, Hawke’s injured leg up, and his head pillowed on Fenris’ arm. He smiled sleepily into the mossy green eyes of his lover and brushed their noses together. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “And not just because you’re glowy. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“You would do the same for me,” Fenris said gruffly.
Hawke hummed his agreement and closed his eyes, relieved that he could still sense the pale blue glow through his eyelids. Knowing that Fenris would be his light in the darkness allowed him to relax enough to fall asleep.
When Hawke woke later, he didn’t know how long he’d been asleep for, but he felt much better. The headache and the itching were gone, although his leg ached horribly and he still couldn’t feel his magic. Frowning, he tried to figure out what had woken him. It didn’t take long. Fenris twitched and mumbled something Hawke couldn’t understand. The dim glow of his tattoos showed that his face was twisted with fear and revulsion. He was probably dreaming about something that he wouldn’t want to remember.
Hawke knew that waking him from those dreams could be dangerous. Fenris didn’t always realize right away what was happening, and had nearly grabbed for his heart the one time he’d tried to wake him. He had learned though that he could manipulate those dreams.
Fenris had rolled onto his back with his face turned away. Hawke started brushing his fingers lightly over the lines on his chest watching as the light followed his caresses. The elf stopped twitching which was a good sign. He leaned closer and began whispering against his pointed ear.
“Fenris,” he breathed against the dark skin. “I love you. You’re safe here with me.”
He flicked his tongue against the tip of Fenris’ ear and gently nibbled at it with his lips in between words. “You’re so beautiful. It’s difficult to look at you sometimes because I know where all these gorgeous markings go, and I want to follow them with my tongue.” He slid his hand lower, taking encouragement from the fact that Fenris was no longer mumbling.
He continued murmuring a constant stream of words as he deftly untied the lacings holding Fenris’ leggings closed. Once he had them open his hand dipped inside to find that the elf was semi hard already. Hawke leaned up on an arm, wincing at the pain in his leg, and looked at his face. Still asleep, but no longer troubled by nightmares.
That didn’t mean he had to stop though.
He leaned back down and began tracing the lines of lyrium around Fenris’ nipple as he stroked the hardening flesh under the leather of his leggings. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the light move in strange patterns on the walls as the markings under his mouth flickered. When he closed his mouth over the nipple he’d been circling light shimmered through all of Fenris’ markings, brightening the room considerably for a brief moment.
“Gabe,” Fenris said, his voice full of extra gravel from sleep. “What are you doing?”
“I wondered how long it would take you to wake up,” Hawke said against his damp flesh without looking up.
“Is this… uhn…” he broke off when Hawke’s hand slid down to cup his balls and roll them gently between his fingers. “Is this wise?” he finally managed to say. “Your injury-”
Hawke leaned up and captured his mouth in a deep kiss, full of teeth and tongue. When he pulled away, Fenris’ eyes were dazed. “It won’t be a problem,” he said. “As long as I don’t put any weight on it.”
He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Hawke didn’t give him a chance. He leaned down and kissed him again as he moved his hand back up to stroke the elf’s hard length, pausing now and then to circle the crown with his palm.
Fenris broke the kiss with a gasp. “Please, Gabe,” he begged. “Make me come.”
“I will,” Hawke said against the markings on his chin. “But I want to taste it. I want you to come in my mouth.”
“But your leg…”
Hawke rolled to lie on his back, and the light faded as their skin lost contact. Fenris quickly activated the markings again, making him smile thankfully. “Straddle me,” he ordered.
Green eyes, dark with pleasure, blinked at him in surprise then a smile spread across Fenris’ face as he realized what he was supposed to do. He quickly shimmied out of his leggings, and moved so that he was kneeling above Hawke’s shoulders. He leaned forward so that he was on his hands and knees.
Hawke leaned up and took Fenris’ hard length into his mouth, savoring the tingle of the lyrium brand on his bottom lip. He reached up and grabbed the elf’s hips, encouraging him to thrust deeply into his mouth. Once Fenris gained a rhythm, he trailed his fingers over his skin to tease at the puckered muscle of his entrance. He slipped one finger inside of him, carefully because they had no cream or oil with them.
Fenris groaned and light flickered through his markings, spreading out from his groin in waves. Hawke had seen them do that before, but in the complete dark of the cave, with no firelight to dim their power, it was even more beautiful. He wanted to tell Fenris how much he loved him, loved the way he tasted and moved and felt. But that would require him to stop what he was doing, and more than anything he wanted to taste him. He could tell by the way Fenris’ movements were growing quicker and more erratic that he was close. A gentle twist of his finger to rub against the sensitive spot inside him was all it took, and Hawke’s mouth filled with warm fluid that always tasted of salt and lyrium.
He swallowed quickly, and continued sucking for a few moments until Fenris pulled away from him.
“Enough,” Fenris gasped as he crawled backwards enough that he could lie down on Hawke’s chest.
“Says you,” Hawke teased. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and hugged him close.
Fenris shifted his hips, rubbing slowly against Hawke’s erection. “Well it’s enough for me for the moment. Would you like me to take care of this for you?” he asked huskily as he continued to writhe against the hardness pressed into his belly.
“You don’t have to,” Hawke murmured. “But I’m not going to complain if you keep moving like that.”
Fenris wiggled until Hawke let him go and then moved down to remove his trousers, careful to not jostle his injury. Settling on his elbows forced the mage to spread his legs slightly and Fenris took advantage of the position to place a kiss just above his balls.
“Maker’s cock,” Hawke muttered as a slick tongue traced upwards slowly. “Are you going to tease me like that for long?”
The tongue traced all the way back down before Fenris answered. “Yes.”
“Well alright then.” Hawke propped himself up on his elbows so that he could watch. Where Fenris’ arms touched the inside of his thighs, the markings glowed. When the elf dragged his bottom lip over the head of his erection, the markings on his chin flickered and a wave of light ran down his throat. The flash of light was hypnotizing, but not as much as watching Fenris finally take him between his lips.
Fenris took his time making love to Hawke with his mouth. His eyes were tilted up to watch the reactions his movements made. The corners slanted up slyly when every flick of his tongue drew forth a groan or a whimper. Unable to take the treatment silently Hawke kept up a constant stream of encouragement, telling him how hot his mouth was and how sexy his lips were around his cock.
He could feel the pressure building inside of him, and the compliments turned into begging. Fenris kept up the steady and slow pace though. Hawke began to shake as he hovered on the edge of orgasm. “Please, please, please… oh fuck, oh Maker, Fenris, please…”
Fingers pressed against the sensitive skin just below his balls, finally pushing him over the edge. He forced himself to keep watching and was glad for his self control when Fenris pressed his lips against the head of his twitching erection and let the white fluid splash across his mouth and dribble down his chin. When he casually wiped some off with his thumb and put it in his mouth to suck it off, Hawke’s arms went weak at the sight and he plopped down onto his back.
Fenris moved between his legs and crawled up over his body. Hawke reached up and wrapped a hand around the elf’s neck to pull him down for a kiss, smearing his taste over both their mouths. They gently licked each other clean for a moment before Fenris relaxed his arms and legs and draped himself over Hawke’s body.
“Well I feel much better about being trapped in here for a few days,” Hawke teased as he ran the pads of his fingers up and down Fenris’ spine and watched the light flash off the cave ceiling.
Fenris’s chuckle vibrated through both of their bodies. “We don’t really have anything else to do in the meantime, do we?”
“It was either that, or sleep, and you were having a nightmare. Do you remember anything?” He hoped not. Those were the memories he didn’t want his lover to have to remember.
Fenris sighed and nuzzled Hawke’s collarbone. “No. You have managed to drive it from my mind.”
Hawke let out a slow breath of relief, and squeezed Fenris in a quick hug. “Good.”
“Thank you,” Fenris said gruffly against his skin.
All he got in answer was something muttered in the Tevinter language. Hawke rubbed his cheek against the elf’s white hair. He knew he only did that when he didn’t really want to answer the question. “In a language I can understand, please.”
There was a huff of exasperation before Fenris spoke, but the words finally came, quietly but full of affection. “For being the light in my darkness.”