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Hawke's interests lay in business, not politics. And since most of her business was done through Varric and contacts through the Merchant's Guild, she rarely had to entertain or interact with the nobility. So when she had to entertain the de Launcets, she'd made it a point to forewarn Fenris about it. He proved the depths of his feelings for he by offering to be there, which she appreciated, but pointed out there was no reason for both of them to suffer. She also didn't trust him to not end up throwing Fifi de Launcet out the window.
The Comte de Launcet, despite the awkwardness of their family history- Hawke's mother had been engaged to him before she had eloped with Malcolm -was Hawke's staunchest ally among the nobles and thus was the one noble in Kirkwall that Fenris could tolerate.
His family was another matter entirely.
The Comtess was a vapid, empty headed woman, but she was generally kind toward Hawke. Their daughters, Babbet and FiFi, were emptier-headed versions of their mother. They'd both been born in Kirkwall but put on the airs of Orlesian nobility. FiFi was the worst, in Fenris' opinion. She used to follow him around the Hightown market and flirt with him solely because she seemed to consider it outrageous and daring to flirt with an elf.
His promise to only throw her out a first story window had earned a laugh from Hawke before she'd kissed him and told him to win some hands in her name down at the Hanged Man, promising it wouldn't take long into the night. He hated social scenes a little more than she did, but not by much.
Night hadn't quite fallen by the time Fenris returned to the Hawke estate, feeling more than a little smug. He'd won most of the rounds of Wicked Grace despite the fact both Isabela and Varric were cheating and the fact he was distracted. He'd learned to just accept the teasing about him and Hawke, making no effort to hide the fact he was just biding his time until he could have her to himself.
He came in through the gardens, entering through the outside kitchen door, cocking his head as he heard shrill laughter from somewhere in another room. So they were still here. He scowled in annoyance.
Orana came bustling in and started when she caught sight of him, relaxing when she realized who it was. She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. "They're on drinks now. They should be leaving soon." She stomped over to the sink to finish washing up. She and Zek worked for themselves now, but Hawke often hired her for a night or two when she needed help entertaining. "I hope they leave soon. I'd never do anything to embarrass Lady Hawke, but if that nasty little Fifi doesn't mind her tongue, I might just give her a piece of my mind. Fifi. What a stupid name."
Fenris bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at her snippy tone. Orana had come a long way from the frightened slave they'd rescued from Hadriana's hideout. Once she'd opened up to the possibility of a life she'd never imagined possible, she had blossomed. Now she worked on her own terms, taught music at the library and museum down in Lowtown and was married to a man who worshiped the ground she walked on.
Orana was still muttering. "Keeps making snide remarks. She's even making her family uncomfortable. Spiteful, is what she is." She added a few choice words in Tevene that had him raising his eyebrows.
Spiteful, Fenris mused as he walked out of the room and made his way toward the voices. Varric had used that word as well to describe Fifi de Launcet tonight. He had also had a few choice words about her: namely that if she didn't lay off Hawke, he might be tempted to pull some strings and throw a scare into her. Somewhere along the line, Fifi and her sister's haughty disdain for Hawke had shifted into animosity. Since the only thing they could do was spread rumors and make catty remarks, both of which Hawke paid no mind to, he had considered them pretty much harmless. However, Fenris had been unaware until tonight that they had found a new subject to sink their teeth into regarding Hawke and this time it was one the nobles were muttering about as well.
Him.
The door to the library was open, but they weren't in there. Fenris was relieved at that. The library was their place. It was special. He didn't want the de Launcets and their ignorance to sully it. They were in the front parlor instead. Fenris paused just off the side of the doorway, angling himself so he was in the shadows. From that vantage point, he could see Hawke, but no one else. That was fine. Even if he'd had a full view of the room, she was all he would have seen.
Alessa was sitting in a high backed chair, a glass of wine in one hand. She sat up straight, a neutrally polite expression fixed on her face to hide her boredom. Her dress was a simple sheathe of deep red, which was his favorite color on her. Her black hair was drawn back with a pair of gold combs.
So beautiful. The de Launcet women not only thought they were her equal, that they could compare, they considered themselves superior to her. It was amazing that they could be that delusional.
Orana came in with another bottle of wine and gave him a look of mingled amusement and disapproval. She did not, however, alert anyone to his presence.
"You seem to surround yourself with elves, Messeir Hawke." Fifi's voice drifted through the room, nasally and snide.
"Orana kindly took some time out of her schedule to help me tonight. As you surely noticed, her cooking is beyond compare," Hawke said smoothly. She gave Orana a quiet smile which the elf returned.
"Yes, everyone's been talking about your…peculiar tastes." Fenris went tense. There was a particularly nasty edge to Fifi's tone. "I heard it's gotten you blacklisted by several people. It's shameful enough you ruin your own business, much less ruining Papa's as well."
"Fifi!" The Comtess hissed at her daughter, sounding shocked.
Now Hawke looked genuinely troubled, turning her head to look to the side where, Fenris assumed, the Comte was sitting. The Comte's voice was calm. "She has a tendency to exaggerate. No one of any importance has cut ties, Lady Hawke. The real business men don't care."
"Fifi's had a bit too much wine, I think it might be time to go," the Comtess said, her voice tight.
"Of course. Let me get that book for you, Comte."
Fenris backed away from the door and slipped into the library, trying not to let what he'd overheard bother him and failing. Of course, he had already known that having an elven lover wasn't socially acceptable among the nobility. The fact Hawke wasn't making any attempt to hide it only outraged people further. If she had been married and this was a dalliance on the side, it wouldn't have been so outrageous to the nobility. Hawke was already considered eccentric, after all. But Hawke was not married and, according to Isabela, had left quite a few men frustrated at their inability to win her over, which added another layer of tension.
It was fine to have an elf in your bed, as long as you kept it properly hidden.
Fenris leaned against the table, his gaze moving around. There was no other spot in Kirkwall that had a hold on his heart the way this single room did. This place showed the true Hawke, the essence of the woman who had intrigued him from the moment he'd first met her. He'd learned to read and write here. When he'd mentioned he didn't like the statue above the fireplace because it reminded him too much of Tevinter architecture, he'd come back the next night to find she'd glued some of her dog's shed hair to its nose in a bristly and ridiculous mustache. Seeing it still made him smile.
He'd kissed her for the first time in this room.
Fenris was drawn out of his thoughts by brisk footsteps he knew as well as his own. Alessa paused in the doorway when she saw him, startled. "Fenris? I thought you'd still be at the Hanged Man." She smiled, the neutral mask melting away into happiness and warmth that never failed to light him up to the depths of his soul, because he knew that smile was for him alone.
He resisted the urge to yank her against him with heroic effort and raised a brow at her. "Blacklisted?"
She paused, her lips tightening into a thin line. "She's exaggerating, as she always does."
"That's not what Varric says, Alessa."
She sighed and moved to pluck a book off a shelf. "I told him not to worry about it."
"This is Varric we're talking about. When he's actually worried about something, that's generally a good sign you need to be too."
"Fenris, let me get rid of them and then we can…"
He had to say it before he choked on the words and they left him in a rush. "I can…" He paced away from her. "I don't want to cause you trouble, Alessa. I can be more…discreet. I can…" Hide. He couldn't make himself say that word aloud, but it echoed in the air between them. She was staring at him, her mouth open.
The idea ripped at him. When he'd come to Kirkwall, he had made the decision to stop hiding himself, drawing up every ounce of courage and desire to be free into that act of defiance. Refusing to hide what he was had become so ingrained in his mind that it was part of his life and freedom. He met her wide eyed gaze, knowing she knew that about him. "For you, Alessa. Only for you."
Alessa threw the book onto the table and moved toward him, gripping the front of his shirt and backing him against the table's edge. She was glaring at him, her beautiful, mismatched eyes- one blue, one brown –locked on his. "I love you." She spaced each word out deliberately, her voice low and furious. "If everyone in Kirkwall wants to act like it's something I should be ashamed of, let them. I don't care, Fenris. That silly bitch starts talking behind my back; I've been blacklisted from places I never go to anyway; snubbed by people I can't stand and hearing rude comments from others I've never even bothered to know. I've had a few business contacts among the nobility cut ties that weren't that important to me. If that's the price for you, it is perfectly fine with me. You are more than worth it!"
He kissed her, dragging her against him. Her mouth tasted of good wine as she kissed him back, seemingly forgetting about anyone else outside the room. When she pulled back to breathe, she stroked her fingers down his cheek. "I would never ask you to hide, Fenris. Never. They're nothing to me and you are everything, you idiot."
Overwhelmed, Fenris drew the combs out of her hair so he could slide his fingers through those silken black strands, trailing soft kisses across her face until she was trembling in his hold.
Someone cleared their throat.
Hawke started and turned her head toward the doorway. Fifi de Launcet smirked at them unpleasantly. "Is this how they use libraries in Dogland, Messeir Hawke?"
"You should have seen what we were doing in here yesterday," Hawke replied without missing a beat, startling both of them. She made no move to draw away from Fenris.
His hands slid down to rest on her hips and he glanced over at the chair beside them automatically, his muscles going tight at the memory of what they'd done in it. His next exhale of breath came out as a growl. "Get rid of them, Alessa, or they're going to see a scandal the likes of which even Orlesians haven't seen before," he muttered.
"Don't tempt me," she murmured back. She pushed away from him and plucked the book up from the table again.
She was turned away, so she didn't see the ugly look cross Fifi's face before she managed to hide it again. Fenris had grown up in Tevinter among magisters who constantly fought and stabbed each other in the back in their efforts to gain even a handful of more power; he knew that look when he saw it. Ah. Several things clicked together at that look and he felt a fool for not thinking of it before.
He smirked at her when she glanced at him and she drew herself up, affronted. She glared at Hawke. "I suppose it's a Fereldan custom to abandon your guests for a dalliance."
"Not generally, but I admit he tends to distract me. I'll be sure to apologize to your father." Hawke breezed past her, carrying the book. Fifi looked after her, clearly confused. This had not gone the way she thought it would.
Fenris moved around her and she shifted back, wrinkling her nose. He didn't give her more than a passing glance. He only had eyes for Hawke.
She was apologizing for keeping them waiting, handing the book to the Comte. If any of them noticed the fact her hair was undone and hanging in loose tangles around her face, they didn't mention it. Fenris walked up and laid a hand lightly on the small of her back. The Comte glanced at him and the elf swore he saw his mouth quirk into a half smile for a moment.
He might actually come to like the Comte de Launcet with time.
The Comtess swept Fifi out the door before she could make any remarks, their other daughter trailing behind her. The Comte bowed to them both and followed his family. Fenris was already moving even as the door closed, sliding his arms around her and nuzzling her neck. "She's jealous of you."
She melted back against him, tipping her head to the side in a silent invitation. "Who?"
"Probably all of them, but Fifi in particular."
"Oh…" In any other circumstances, she might have given that more thought, but he'd found that spot right behind her ear that made every thought in her head scatter. His hands glided down to wrap around her wrists, pinning her arms gently, holding her still. He started tormenting her in earnest then, trailing soft kisses and tiny bites along her neck and jaw, keeping her pinned against them all the while, not even allowing her to squirm in his grasp. He could do it easily. He was so much stronger than he looked, far stronger than she was. By the time he ran his lips along the curve of her neck to her shoulder, she was too weak to stand upright, trusting him to hold her up.
She could feel him smiling against her skin; he knew perfectly well what he did to her. It was always like this with him. Always. There was nothing about Fenris that didn't affect her right down to her marrow. If he was going to lay her out and take her right here in the entrance hall of her home, she wouldn't resist for a second. It was sometimes unnerving how little she didn't care about anything but what he wanted when she was in his arms, but there was a thrill to it too.
I am yours. He said those words to her all the time and meant them, but now he truly understood that she was also his.
Throwing her on the floor and having his way with her wasn't what was on his mind, apparently, because he swept her up and carried her to the bedroom. The second the door was closed, he fisted a hand into her hair and dragged her mouth to his, kissing her like he was going to devour her. He tugged at the fastenings on the back of her dress with his other hand, pulling back enough to nip at her lips. "Off." He murmured it before taking her mouth again. She reached around, undid the rest of the fastenings and shrugged the dress off, pushing it down over her hips.
Fenris kept his grip in her hair, tilting her head back as he kissed his way softly down her throat. "All of it."
Her hands were shaking so badly by then, she was grateful she didn't have to try and unfasten anything. He held still while she unwrapped the band around her breasts, rewarding her with a soft flick of his tongue across her pulse-point when she dropped it. Her breathing sped up when he scraped his teeth lightly along the line of her collarbone and started to move lower. She froze, swaying in his hold, her back arching softly. Fenris ran his lips down the valley between her breasts and paused. She whimpered, pulling her smallclothes off, gripping his shoulder to balance herself. If he hadn't been there, she would have toppled over.
Her elf smiled and traced a thumb over one of her nipples before taking the other into his mouth, sucking gently. She tangled her fingers into his hair. She was so wound up that when he slipped a hand between her legs, it took only a few strokes in just the right place to throw her over the edge.
Fenris wrapped his arms around her to hold her up and she let her head rest on his shoulder, panting. He kissed her forehead and chuckled suddenly. "'Lucky bastard.'"
"Hmm?"
"That's a quote from someone down at the Hanged Man- I didn't see who –when Isabela asked how I was going to help you 'decompress' after dealing with the de Launcets tonight."
She laughed, still breathless. "Ah. And what did you say?"
"As I recall, I just smiled. Rather smugly. Which was when whoever it was made that comment." He cradled her face with one hand and kissed her slowly. "And what could I say in reply to that when it's so very true?"
"Fenris…" The adoration she was certain was clear in her voice was only a fraction of what she felt.
"My Alessa." He kissed her again before drawing her further into the room. "Speaking of what we did in the library yesterday…"
"Oh, by the way…we actually should be a bit more discreet about that. At least to the point of making sure the door is closed. Sandal was asking some very, um…interesting…questions the other day. I thought Bodhan was going to have a stroke."
Fenris laughed and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it drop. Her hands lifted of their own volition and ran down his chest. She did it every time she saw him so, her fingers tracing a path between the markings on his skin. He arched into her touch like a cat, shivering. His hands closed over hers and guided them down further. Alessa took the hint and pulled at the fastenings of his breeches, kneeling to pull them down his legs. He stepped out of them and tugged her back up, pressing her against him so the hard length of his cock rested against the seam of her sex. She made a soft, hungry sound against his mouth when he kissed her again. He nipped her lips. "Are you all right, Alessa? Are you ready for me?"
"Yes." She rubbed herself against him, making his hands tighten on her hips. "I want you. Please."
He loved it when she begged. Fenris would pin her down and tease her mercilessly or make her come over and over until her voice was raw from pleading, intoxicated by every moment. He'd felt guilty about how much he enjoyed it at first but she'd made it clear she took as much pleasure from it as he did. Her body took on a loose, languid fluidity when she lay in his arms afterward that was unlike anything else. He treasured those moments more than any other because they made it so crystal clear she trusted him completely, which was a gift that had no price.
He framed her face in his hands and kissed her; slow, teasing kisses that had her moaning against his mouth. He wouldn't be able to hold back for long this time. He was aching to be inside her. "Touch me, Alessa."
She ran her hands over his chest, his sides, up his back and over his arms. "Maker, you're so beautiful, Fenris," she whispered between kisses. "Perfect."
"Hardly." He wasn't particularly vain, but the way she said it sent a thrill through him.
"You are. You are, you are, you are," she insisted, chanting it. "I can't get enough of you. I never stop wanting you."
Maker's breath, he was going to die if he didn't have her right now. "Come here." He sat down in the chair near her desk and drew her to him. He took hold of himself with one hand and gripped her thigh with the other as he guided her down, his head falling back when she sheathed him to the hilt. "Yes…Alessa…"
She gripped the high back of the chair, shifting her hips to adjust to the length of him inside her, her eyes fluttering closed. She moved her hips in a soft circle and he growled her name, sliding his hands down beneath her knees and spreading her wider for him. When she started to move, he shifted his grip to her hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises, controlling the rhythm of their movement. Her hands tightened on the back of the chair and she bent her head, her eyes tightly closed. "Fenris…Maker, don't stop…"
"Never." He moved harder, drawing her up and sliding her down his length over and over. He knew he hit that perfect spot inside her when she threw her head back, shudders wracking her slender frame. He ran his lips up the line of her throat, nuzzling her softly. He could feel himself losing control and bit her neck lightly. "Lovely. So beautiful…come for me, Alessa. Scream for me."
She obeyed, helpless, clenching deliciously around him as she called his name over and over. He drove up into her one last time and buried his face in her hair as he came, clutching her to him, not calling her name in return but whispering it into her ear.
Alessa melted against him with a sigh and he slipped his arms around her, giving them both a bit of time to recover. His muscles felt like water. He nuzzled the crook of her neck softly. "I love you, Alessa. With everything in me."
She made a soft sound deep in her throat and closed her eyes, completely overwhelmed. It was the first time she'd ever heard him speak those words out loud, though he showed it in a thousand different ways. "I love you, Fenris." She whispered it again and again as he coaxed her up, shuddering when he slipped out of her. She kept up the chant in her head even when she fell silent, curling against his side on their bed.
Alessa watched him as he drifted off to sleep, tracing his beloved features with her fingers lightly. She didn't care if the entirety of Hightown shunned her for having him in her heart and her bed. One moment with him was worth every moment of disapproval she might face. She settled her head on his shoulder, sliding a possessive arm around him. "I love you, I love you…I will never give you up, Fenris. Not for anybody. Not ever."