Lessons

By: FightfortheLost

Fenris entered Hawke's home with some hesitation. He had not been there in three weeks. That had been the night they'd spent together, a night that caused him to wake from a dead sleep, covered in sweat, reaching towards her. Those nights tore him apart, because he would be so certain that she was right there, only to wake and find himself alone.

During those three weeks, she'd stopped coming for her regular visits. She'd stopped asking for him to come along with her when she was off fighting.

He'd been unprepared for how lonely it was when she didn't come around to visit. He knew he deserved it after the way he'd left her. She'd practically begged him to stay and he'd just walked out. Left her alone, there, sitting on her bed. The loneliness still hurt. He wanted to see her, he wanted to be around her, even it it meant losing the easy warmth they'd always shared.

Then, suddenly, two nights ago, she'd shown up at his house during the afternoon, her eyes bright with hope. He had been afraid of what she was going to say or do, but she just presented him with a gift. He had never gotten a gift before. Slaves did not receive gifts from their masters, and since his escape, he'd been too busy running to be involved with anyone enough that he might receive one. One from her, who he had left, had come as a complete surprise.

It had been a book. She'd explained that it was by Shartan, about a subject he was familiar with. She hadn't known that he would feel uncomfortable accepting it, he could not fault her that. He hadn't wanted to explain his ineptitude to her, but seeing the bright hope in her eyes die and turn to sadness, he had no choice. So he'd explained. He couldn't read. It was a fact that bothered him, that actually caused him more grief than she could know. And now she knew.

It's not too late to learn, Fenris.

Maker, what had he done to deserve a woman like her. She was offering to teach him, giving them a chance to spend hours together, pouring over worn vellum. He was terrified and exhilarated at the idea. The gift she'd offered was more than the book, but she couldn't know that. She'd given him the gift of time; her time. So they'd arranged to meet today, for his first lesson, here at her home.

He'd been uncomfortable with that at first, however, now that he thought on it, it was a wise decision on her part. Here, they would not be alone during the day. At his house, there was no one else there but the two of them and it would be easy to get lost in sensations and get pulled back into the trap of that night.

Orana noticed him first and her eyes widened in surprise. "Hello, ser," she said, bowing at him and he shifted in discomfort. "My lady is still in her room. Would you like me to get her for you?"

Sometimes, he wished that Hawke had not hired the girl, but he couldn't deny that it was better for the naiive little thing to be under the employ of someone who would not use her. "No. I can find my way myself," he said calmly, then passed her quickly. Dog gave a quiet ruff of greeting, and Leandra looked up from the letter she was reading.

"Fenris, it's been awhile," she said, sounding surprised.

"I've been...busy," he said, wanting to just get up there and let Hawke know he was there.

She smiled. "Hawke tells me that you two will be spending some time in the library every week. I'm glad. I'll try to keep anyone from bothering you," she said, lightly.

He glanced away. "There's no need for that," he said.

"Oh...I just thought-"

He sighed heavily, hoping for patience. "She's teaching me to read," he said, trying to relax his clenched jaw. He was getting a muscle cramp in it. He was wrong, he should have insisted that she teach him at his place, so he didn't have to tell everyone in her household why they were meeting.

Maker, help him if the dwarf or Isabella heard about this. "Is she upstairs?" he finally asked, having gained control of himself.

Leandra just nodded and he thanked her quietly, heading up the stairs. Today was turning out to be a bad day for him. His temper was on edge and he wasn't certain he could take the strain of being so close to her and doing something that would no doubt be extremely frustrating.

He pushed open the door to her room and slipped in, closing it behind him. When he turned around, he wished he'd knocked first.

Hawke lay on her bed, her face flushed, hair sticking to her face from sweat. One of her hands was playing between her shapely thighs, the other was fondling her breast through her clothing. Considering the state of her bed, she'd been at it for quite some time. Suddenly, her head went back and she cried out something that made the blood in his veins turn to fire.

His name.

Everything that had been plaguing him was gone. He cared not about his inability to read or having to explain to this woman's mother that he wasn't here wooing her daughter. Hunger consumed him, the same hunger that had driven him that night together. He could remember the taste of her, the feel of her hands on him. The way she'd cried his name as she'd come – the same cry she'd just made.

"Hawke," he snarled her name, the leash he kept on his desire straining under the pressure. Then, her blue eyes opened, still hazy from her orgasm and every thought fled. He was on the bed, plundering her mouth before another thought passed through his mind.

Her name being snarled from two feet away drew her attention. She was still light-headed from pleasure, so it took her a moment to recognize Fenris, to realize that he had just seen her pleasuring herself, and he'd likely heard the name she'd cried out at the end. She had no time to dwell on it whatsoever, because as soon as her mind made those connections, she felt his mouth on hers and her body, still aching, responded in earnest. She gripped his shoulders, her mouth opening in invitation, her body arching into hands that were starting to caress her.

Thought was slow in returning, and the elf in her bed was doing his best to drive thoughts away, so arranging them in a pattern that was somehow understandable was almost impossible. Especially since all she wanted to do was give in. One of his hands cupped her breast, fondling her gently and she felt his knee press between hers. She kissed him back, moaning softly, trying to think, trying to remember why she shouldn't let this happen.

His other hand reached down between her thighs and she felt his gauntlet lightly scrape her skin and she whimpered – whimpered.

Then, as his lips left hers and began moving down her neck, the painful memory of the night they'd shared snapped to the forefront of her mind and while she wanted to believe that Fenris had changed his mind, she knew he was only being driven by what he'd seen. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push him away, but he simply slid farther down her chest, his lips now at her collarbone, leaving what felt like an impressive love bite there.

NO, she thought, her eyes squeezing shut. He'd come to when it was over and walk away again and her heart was still fragile enough that she might never recover from it. "Fenris," she squeaked when the hand that had been caressing her thighs touched her moist center and she nearly came apart. Tears pierced her eyes and she almost surrendered. He was so strong, and forceful, and maker help her, she wanted him so badly it hurt.

But he'd regret it tomorrow, and she'd be damned if she took advantage of his fragility a second time. She reached into her reserves of mana and a telekenetic burst threw Fenris away from her and against the wall of her bedroom.

The blow stunned obviously stunned him and while he was trying to collect himself, she straightened her clothing. "I'm sorry," she whispered fiercely, again and again, the tears in her eyes now spilling, unwanted, down her face. She lifted her face, looking at him and saw anger, upset, and unfulfilled desire on his face. "We can't," she whispered, begging him to understand. "You know we can't."

Slowly, the man she knew returned and he drug a hand through his hair in intense frustration. "Venhedis," he snarled, pacing the length of the room.

She lowered her gaze once again, finding her hands shaking. Shame burned her cheeks and she tried to collect her thoughts. "I'm sorry," she said, louder this time. "I...must have forgotten that you were coming here today. It's my fault." She lifted her face, waiting for him to shovel blame onto her as well, but she just saw pain and upset on his face. "I never intended for you to see me...like that."

He stopped pacing, turning towards her. "Hawke-" he stopped, seeming to think of what to say. "No, I should have asked someone to...check if you were available..."

She gave a weak smile. "Yes, because my mother walking in on me doing that would have been so much better." It was a weak attempt at humor and she knew it, but he rewarded her regardless.

He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. Then, the amusement died and there was something else in his eyes that broke her heart. It was almost guilt. "I'm sorry. I should have left when I..." his eyes met hers and she saw deep pain in them. "I...thought you would be moving on..."

She stood, straightening her skirt so that it hung to her knees again. When she was close, she lifted a hand and rested it against his face. "Fenris, I did a lot of thinking after that night. I thought myself in circles, really." She let her hand drop and took to pacing. "I thought about moving on. I...flirted with the idea, you could say." She turned towards him, unable to meet his eyes, regardless. A sigh escaped her and she finally lifted her face, smiling at him in resignation. "I don't think I can. I think about you and...maybe it was too fast, but being with you has felt right."

He looked stricken, pained. "Hawke-"

"I'm not asking you to confess your undying affection for me. It wouldn't be like you." She stepped towards him again, looking up into his eyes. "I'm just saying that...I want us to try to work through this. We can step back, the light teasing...maybe flirting, if it doesn't bother you. Can we try?"

She wanted to restrain her hope, but she couldn't. Him kissing her when he'd seen her had completely killed her restraint. It took all of her effort to keep from kissing him, herself.

Fenris lifted a hand and she felt it come to rest on her bicep, his palm hot through her clothing. There was something in his eyes that might be hope, but she didn't want to call it that. Whatever it was, it warmed her heart and she swallowed hard. His hand slowly slid down her arm until it reached her hand and she felt his fingers wrap around her own. "Why do you try so hard?" The question was whispered, and there was the faintest trace of heartbreak in his own voice.

She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand, refusing to answer. "Let's get started on your lesson, alright?"

He seemed to recognize the stale-mate and a soft chuckle escaped him. "Alright."