omg there’s so goddamn many in the massive single word doc where i keep all my fic that i’ll just make a masterpost because APPARENTLY THIS IS WHAT I DO WITH MY LIFE (let’s play spot the fandom in all the ones that don’t mention names)
(including only the original w/no derivatives because 1. holy shit apparently when writing characters with english accents i can only think of like two endearments, and 2. CTRL+F’ing got me three times as many results because apparently i write about “gloved” hands doing things all the time?? wtf @self)
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“Sowhat, then?” she demanded back with equal fervor. “You want to just leave himhere? Is that what you want? You’d just love that, wouldn’t you, you son of a bitch.”
“Go on, now,” he saidsoftly, pulling his helmet back down over his face. “Go home to your family.Go home and tell your mama you love her.”
“Uh, there-there love,” he blurted, awkwardlymaneuvering his own arms to wrap around her in a similar fashion, but notnearly as tightly. “No reason to panic, I just—Oh, oh goodness.”
He met her dark eyesthen, stunned. “You…I mean, after all I did to you?” he asked, for once notfettered by anxious rambles. “After everything…I mean, I almost…” The wordscaught in his throat. “I could have killed you, love. I wantedto.”
“We’re out,” he stateddumbly. “We’re…we’re out, we’re out!” He turned to her, finding her beaming the most ecstatic grin he’d ever seen her wear. “We’re free, love!We’re out!”
“I’m sorry, love,” hemumbled, mouth fuzzy with grogginess. “Bad dream, just a little bad dream,nothing to worry about, go back to sleep…Go on, don’t give me that look, I’mfine…”
“For a moment there I thought you wanted to go allthe way under. Not happening, love, not today, not any day. It’s bad enough Ilet you talk me into this in the first place.”
“What’s wrong, love?” heasked immediately upon her silently tucking herself into his chest, burying hernose in his shoulder.
“I’m afraid social events with people you don’tparticularly care for are part of the deal, love. Hope you like spending therest of your life listening to stuffy old men and their wives try to engage youin the finer points of hound-rearing and taxation.”
The words died in his mouth when she leaned forwardand stood, still clutching her woolen blanket about her shoulders, andturned to face him, saying simply, “I feel much better this morning, love.”
“Sweet girl,” the thing’s voice spoke,piercing through the stream of memories even as they continued to bleed intoone another, “All you want is to love, and be loved in return. There is no shame inthat. Let me give him to you, that you may be happy together.”
“Yurat!”he greeted warmly, though his use of her full name confused her even further,“Yes, I know it’s a week earlier than we agreed, but the queen does love tohave things wrapped up quickly.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, one gloved hand cuppingher chin, tilting her head up to meet his eyes, though she tried to look away.“Yury, love, what is it?”
Theplayful warmth in his eyes as he smiled had her knees weakening, finally givingall those damnable skirts a use to hide them. “Anything for you, love,” hespoke softly, taking the hand she’d grabbed at him with and covering it withboth of his own. “What’s on your mind?”
“As muchas I’d love to leave you there stark naked for Mother to walk in on,” Hawkesuggested, lifting the warmed cloth from his back, “I’m sure you’re aboutto drop off at any moment.”
“I thinkhe really does love that broody tit,” she replied with a sigh, running a fingertip along therim of her glass. “No idea such a giant of a man could be that careful.”
“You’re incredible, love. All that strength hiddenaway, like a secret weapon, hiding just below the surface.” As if to illustratehis point, the hand dropped from his chin to run a brushing touch over one arm.
He’dbeen personally privy to Hawke’s changes during those seven years, not tomention personally privy to how that long, black hair felt being carded throughfingers, twisted and smoothed and braided neatly down the mage’s back. “Thank you, love,” Hawke would saywith that twinkly-eyed grin of his, “You know I’m rubbish at these sorts ofthings.”
“Oh, love,” she whispered quietly. His exposed neck lookedrubbed raw from that blasted thing, the skin reddened in a band around hisneck. Still, nothing a handful of green magic couldn’t fix.
“Can’t help it, love,” Hawke smirked, stealing another kissand chuckling at the flush of heat in Fenris’ cheeks. “I’ve had to spend thewhole blasted day playing nice with the Orlesian court, and you look perfectlydelectable in that outfit.”
“As much asI’m sure you’d love to uncover some hidden motive of mine,” he interruptedas if capable of reading thoughts, “you will be disappointed to find that I amperfectly capable of honesty, should the situation call for it.” Someunidentifiable emotion passed over those blue eyes. “I have you to thank forthat, in fact. Tea?”
Later, he told himself, firmly pushing down the fluttering inhis ribcage. Later, when things were not as they were now, when they were theclosest to safety as the two of them would ever be. Then he would dress hislove in every shade of blue and let the world watch them stand at each other’ssides.
His heart felt so full it almost made him dizzy, as if itwere late into the evening and he’d drunk a great deal of wine. He did feeldrunk, almost, drunk on security and contentment with the love of his lifesafely tucked into his arms and no immediate dangers looming over the two ofthem. Drunk on happiness.
“Do you love him?” the ghost asked. From experience, he knew it had intended the question to be barbed and vicious, but instead it cameout sounding irreparably broken.
