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Title: Unlaced
Author: blustersquall
Game: Dragon Age II
characters/pairing: Fenris x Kestrel Hawke
Disclaimer: Dragon Age 2 is the property of Bioware, as is Fenris and any other characters mentioned within this piece. Kestrel Hawke is my creation, under the Dragon Age 2 player character, Hawke.

--

The only benefit of being an elf at an Orlesian party was not being noticed. At a party in Kirkwall he would stick out, people would take notice of him. But here, even with his markings, because he was an elf he was invisible.

It didn't matter that he dressed like them - at her insistence. That he wore a high-waisted waistcoat, and a tailed coat cut away in the front, made specifically to his measurements. They didn't care that his boots were the latest style or that his standing collar was uncomfortable and made it hard to turn his head.

Orlesians were, if anything, predictable and his pointed ears were his biggest status symbol. The only thing about him they saw or cared about.

He liked it that way. Being invisible meant he didn’t have to speak to anyone. That he could find a secluded corner and stand and observe. And that was all he did.

Kestrel was swept away from him as soon as they walked in the room, which left him free to watch her throughout the evening. She was pushed and pulled in every direction. People talked at her and he could see her grimacing. She was uncomfortable, out of her depth, and she hadn't even wanted to come to this party. But being Champion, she had obligations to fulfil.

He attended the parties with her to be a familiar face in the crowd. And because they both knew if she attended with Varric she would come away with several more engagements like this booked.

When he was invisible, he was able to observe, and he protected her in his own way.

He watched for possible threats, people who might try and harm her in a flurry of skirts and coat tails. He could intercede at a moment's notice to take her out of danger. He doubted if any of the puffed up nobles currently bolstering for her attention would do such a thing.

Too worried about getting blood on their doublets.

He heard the music change from an up-tempo polka to a subdued waltz, and there was a mad rush as people got into position with their partners for the dance. He lost sight for her for a moment or two and then spent thirty seconds wildly looking around the sea of faces to find Kestrel's.

When he couldn't, he deposited his champagne flute on a table and slipped out of the ballroom as quiet as a shadow.

Pausing in the threshold of the ballroom doors, he caught sight of the hem of her dress disappearing up the stairs and around the corner. She was going in the direction of their room. Fenris followed at an unhurried pace.

He did not want to draw attention to himself.

Without Kestrel at his side, he was just an elf to these sycophants. Dressed as he was, he may have looked like a gentleman, but they would not see him as such. And an elf going unaccompanied to the guest’s rooms would alert paranoia. He would have been branded a thief without being given a chance to explain.

Their room was one of the largest this particular Duchess had to offer. Twice the size of Kestrel's own rooms in Kirkwall, with a high ceiling and a separate reception room where guests could meet. The bedchamber was kept sealed off by large white double doors with brass handles.

They were open a crack when Fenris walked in.

The candles sputtered from the slight draught caused by the opening and closing of doors. He crossed the reception room and peered through the gap in the doors to the bedroom.

Kestrel was pacing, the heavy skirts of her dark crimson gown dragging on the floor. He noticed she had kicked her shoes off, and that she smoothed her hands down her bodice regularly. She was almost gasping while she walked frantically from one side of the room to the other. With her hair piled up on her head, he could see from the glow of the fire light how flushed she was.

Concerned by her clear distress, he pushed the door open.

Kestrel jumped, startled by his intrusion.

"It's just me," Fenris told her. He closed the door behind him with a soft click. Kestrel did not relax. She simply resumed her pacing, forcing air into her lungs with hard breaths.

The dress was the latest Free Marcher style, and did not fit in with the frills and lace of Orlesian fashion. It was taffeta, deep scarlet with an ivory underskirt.  A heavy gown which dragged behind Kestrel's steps.

The bodice was laced up at the back, with a low neckline embellished with small pearls. Her breasts swelled over the material, tightly confined. They rose and fell on her hurried breaths.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't breathe," Kestrel explained to him, her words a sharp gasp. "The maids here, they've laced me too tight." She laid her hand along her collarbone. "Orana never laces me like this. I can't breathe. It feels like I'm going to faint."

"Alright." Retaining his calm, Fenris took one of her hands and led her to a post at one of the corners of the bed. "I can loosen them for you."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"Hold on to the post." He was gruff with her but she obeyed, grasping the post in her hands to keep her steady.

The laces were tight and it took him a few attempts to dig his fingers beneath them before he could begin to wiggle them loose.

He started at the top, where his fingers brushed the back of her neck, and he worked his way down to where the laces were knotted together. He loosened each set a little to work the next ones free, his fingers inexperienced but confident.

Soon, Kestrel was no longer as tightly bound or gasping. Her breaths became easier and Fenris saw the bloom of colour disappear from her cheeks.

"Thank you," she sighed and again smoothed her hands down the front of her bodice. "That's much better." She peered at him over her shoulder. The parts of her hair left down fluttered around her face prettily, and she swept them back behind her ear.

Fenris slid his hands across her waist, over the fabric of her bodice.

He was looking at her and seeing someone different.

It struck him as strange, how a change of clothing could present someone in such a different way, but that was what had occurred.

She appeared diminutive, and gazed at him coyly as she peeked over her shoulder in a way that was flirtatious but not openly so.

She didn't hold his eyes for longer than a second or two. An innocent and shy gesture, yet erotic in its timidity. A glance that said almost nothing, but also everything.

The air felt heavy around them. From the ballroom they could hear vague strains of music, but within the confines of their room there was nothing but the two of them.

His blood screamed in his veins. He could feel the heat of her skin despite not even touching it. He anticipated the sensation of his lips on hers, his eyes drawn by the movement of her tongue wetting her bottom lip.

As his hands returned to the back of her bodice, he heard her breath catch and smiled to himself. Working from bottom up, he slid the lace from each hole with fingers that shook.

"What are you doing?"

The air gradually found her skin with each sensual turn of his fingers. Each time his hands brushed her skin he felt a jolt of energy, a thrilling tingle that made his hair stand on end.

Kestrel could feel it too.

She was almost trembling in his hands, and her breaths were faster than they had been when she was tied too tight.

Fenris dropped the lace to the ground and Kestrel held the bodice to her as it slackened around her shoulders. It opened, exposing her back and spine to him. A naked plain marked red with the bones of her clothing. Fenris trailed his fingers across her lower back, pushing away the bodice without a word.

Kestrel allowed it to fall forward and watched him over her shoulder, her breath shuddering past her lips.

His reaction was unnecessary. He had seen Kestrel naked before, it was not an uncommon sight to him now. But when his gaze wandered across the curves of her shoulder blades and the dip in her spine, he couldn’t help but feel like he was seeing something he should not. As if she was a precious work of art, a carved statue so detailed that she looked real.

Her skin prickled beneath the tips of his fingers as he traced them down from her neck. Fenris dropped his hands lower, causing her to tremble and arch away. He followed the dimples in her lower back with long fingers, and found where the skirt of her gown was tied.

Dipping his head, his hot breath sent her hair fluttering away from the nape of her neck. She shivered. His lips ghosted across her skin.

"May I...?" He left the question unfinished and brushed the strings and the metal clasp with the tips of his fingers.

She nodded her consent, eyes fluttering closed, leaning into his touch. "Yes." Her voice was a shuddering whisper, breathless and weighted with heady desire. He noticed the blossom of colour on her cheeks.

Fenris kissed the curve of her neck as he untied the strings and released the fastenings. Kestrel gave a little gasp as the heavy material of her skirt and the petticoats beneath pooled in a heap around her feet.

She was left gloriously naked, excepting her small clothes, in front of him.

Her skin quivered under the soft caress of his fingers as he drew them up her back, over her waist and the curve of her ribs. The air grew heavier. Charged with electricity, which was crushing as it pulsated between them, making the unspoken tension between them increase.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to have her. But, for the first time in a long time, Fenris felt an uncomfortable twinge of unease in his gut. It was as unfamiliar as it was unwelcome and it made him take stock.

He stared at her back, at the fierce scar of where the Arishok's blade impaled her years ago. He observed the changes her muscles made with her movements. Smooth, careful, controlled, precise. Delicate.

She was all these things.

Always in control of herself and her magic. Her spells were precise, exact in their execution and delivery. Her gaze was always guarded and careful. She was smooth to touch, with a voice like silk. Able to stun the most skilled of con-men with natural, spontaneous wit. She was delicate and precious and fragile, and that was something Fenris had not realised before.

Around all the people in the ballroom she was vulnerable, easily bruised and out of her depth. She could not keep her guard up so easily around them, as they expertly worked her into conversations she had no desire to be a part of.

Her fragility was clear to him as she stood with her back to him, exposing both body and soul without realising it.

Kestrel trusted him.

Trusted him enough to let all her defences drop. Trusted him enough to let him see the weakness she took such pains to hide. Trusted him enough to drop the tiresome facade of Champion she despised so much. That had brought with it attention and accolades and forced responsibilities.

He felt undeserving of such honesty and faith to be shown to him. That was what he felt crushing him. It was that which weighed so intently around him. Her openness and her willingness to confide in him using only gestures and no words.

And he loved her for it.

His lips touched her nape as he kissed her there. He stroked her waist, trailing his hands along the edges of scars that he had seen a hundred times, but felt as though he were touching for the first time. Kestrel trembled, murmuring, as his hands delved lower.

His kisses descended, over her spine and her shoulder blades. He toed his boots off and removed his jacket. It hit the floor with her dress. He set to unbuttoning his linen shirt one-handed, dropping to his knees. He slid a knuckle down the path of her spine, following that with his tongue, lapping at her skin.

He kissed the outline of the Arishok's scar.

Kestrel hated it and deemed it unsightly; she arched her back away from his mouth. Fenris pursued and held her still. He loved her, and he loved the scar because it was another part of her. A part of their history, whether she realised it or not.

She relinquished, allowing him to kiss her there.

He nibbled the base of her back and stroked his large hands around her bottom and the backs of her thighs. Her legs quaked. She made a soft, breathless noise, somewhere between a whine and a mumble, when he tickled his fingers along the inside of her legs. The sound made him smile against the base of her spine. His hands curved along the swell of her hip and down the lengths of her legs, his fingers trickling against the backs of her knees.

Slight out of breath, she gave a nervous laugh from above him at the sensation.

Fenris left his shirt with the high collar on the ground once he had worked all the buttons from their holes. With his hands at her hips, he guided Kestrel to turn on the spot, which she did so slowly it might as well have been a seduction all on its own.

He did not force, allowing her make the choice, take the lead. To rotate at her own pace and when she was ready. He watched her patiently, studying her body, mapping the expanse of her back and her shoulders with his eyes.

She turned her head first, glimpsing him over her shoulder. The way her hair was styled did not hide her eyes, and he was caught by her gaze within the first few moments of her moving.

She faced him in a fluid motion, moving so smoothly it was as if her feet never left the ground. Fenris leaned back on his heels to look at her. He drank her in as if she was a momentary vision from a waking dream he did not want to forget.

There was a bloom of colour across her cheeks and her chest, darkening her skin.

Her hazel eyes were wide, almost startled in their appearance, reflecting facets of orange and gold from the fire in the hearth. Her breasts rose and fell on her quick, excited breaths. He watched the ridges of her rib cage expand and contract. He caressed the backs of her thighs gently and inclined towards her. He kissed the soft skin of her belly, savouring how her skin felt under his mouth.

Words bubbled up inside him. Words he had wanted to say for so long but never found the right time.

Now might be the right time. Fenris swallowed, summoning up what courage he could find.

"Kestrel, I..." He lifted his gaze. She was watching him, and her hands traced the sinew of his muscles. The look on her face caused the words in his throat to catch. So adoring, open, and honest. Her lips curved into a small secretive smile which was only his.

His words faltered and he swallowed them down, shutting his eyes against his own embarrassment and the flush of heat that stained his cheeks and his ears.

Cursing himself, Fenris kissed her hip for distraction and to hide his burning face. Her fingers stroked along the shells of his ears, and down through his hair.

With her coaxing, he rose to his feet.

His mouth found hers, and he hadn't realised how much he had wanted to kiss her while he had been touching and exploring her body with his lips. There was a burst of excitement in his chest, his heart hammered, and he curved his hands around her face.

She kissed him with fire and with an ardour which stole his breath.

Her lips moulded and moved against his, gliding, guiding. He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue slipping between her lips when they opened on a sigh. There was no battling for dominance or control. No ferocity, theirs was a kiss unlike any kiss he'd experienced.

Gentle and firm, soft but exciting. Loving, assured. Precious. He chased her when she began to pull away and bit her bottom lip between his teeth, moaning when her breasts brushed his bare chest. He felt her hands wandering, following the trail of muscles down his chest.

His name was a sigh in her voice when he allowed his hands to drift low, down her neck and over her shoulders to stroke her breasts. Her skin was soft underneath his weapon-worn hands. His fingers, moving clumsily over her, caressing her until her whole body was shuddering under his attention. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, listening to her breathing growing steadily more ragged against his lips.

She unbuttoned his trousers with uncharacteristically shaky fingers and eased them down over his arse and thighs. Fenris bit back a groan when he became free from the confines of his clothing. Kestrel slid her hands along his waist and his narrow hips. She pressed her thumbs into his hip bones and moved closer, cushioning his hot length between them against her belly.

Fenris' hands wandered down, away from her breasts, leaving her peaked nipples unattended. He pulled down her sole remaining garment, her flimsy small clothes, which fell away down her legs joining her other clothes on the floor.

He stepped out of his trousers, inching her towards the edge of the bed until the backs of her knees buckled against it.

Kestrel shuffled up towards the pillows with one of Fenris' hands at her waist. He followed, almost prowling like a predatory animal, eyes dark. Zeal and desire goading him on in equal measure. He kissed her hip bone, and her navel, nipping at the sensitive skin while working his lips up her torso.

She lay back, and he positioned himself over her, chests touching and comfortably situated between her legs. The tip of his length nudged against her inner thigh, eagerly leaving a smear of precum in its wake. Fenris eased his fingers through the parts of her hair that were loose, sliding his fingertips against her face and her neck.

She kissed his fingers when they ventured near her mouth. Fenris kissed her breasts and circled the tip of his tongue around the peak of a nipple. She moaned, arching her back and raising her breasts towards his mouth. With a chuckle, Fenris lapped at her nipple briefly, biting down with his teeth, before continuing his journey up. He ventured over the swell of her bosom, nibbling the hollow of her collarbone, and followed the column of her neck, lips kissing, tongue lapping until he reached her mouth.

His kiss seared and Kestrel arced her head back willingly. Fenris slicked his tongue across her bottom lip and eased the head of his member along her mound. Her hips bucked with anticipation, making him grin against her mouth.

Her hands wandered over the expanse of his back, across his shoulders and down his spine. She traced each muscle, each scar and each sinew, with as much affection and reverence as he had done while exploring her.

Her hands worked magic all their own without making use of that which was innate. Her touch made the lyrium in his flesh tingle with pleasure rather than pain. He could feel it almost singing under his skin.

When he entered her, he moaned into her neck. So wet and hot around him, she squeezed him readily as he inched inside her, digging his fingers into her thigh to keep him grounded.

"Fenris..." His name was a heated whisper against his ear. Her eyes slid closed, and she arched her head back into the pillows.

His own worked-up anticipation had him almost coming when he began to drive his hips slowly against her. Focused, he clenched every muscle he could. He watched her bite her swollen bottom lip distractingly and found himself fascinated by the way her eyelids fluttered, by the movement of her throat when she gasped and swallowed.

The atmosphere of their room was intense, the weight of it almost tangible. Fenris could feel it slowly crushing them with its pressure. It pressed him closer to her. Made him hold her body tighter to his as he thrust and grasped her hip and her back with his hands.

She slotted against him like she belonged. A sensation he had never noticed before. Her body fit his; like an old glove fits a hand or a door fits its frame. He was smothered by a sense of belonging he had never experienced, and it was overwhelming to his senses. Even when she bent a leg and clutched him closer, breathing his name like a mantra against his neck, he moved instinctively and there was no disruption to the way their bodies met.

Brushing hair away from her temple, he kissed her there. He kissed her mouth, gasping when her inner walls tightened around him. He nuzzled her forehead, straining to retain control just that much longer. His blood rushed. He could feel his muscles all but scream, but he wanted this to last.

He wanted to hold on to this privacy, this intimacy only they were sharing, for as long as was possible. Hold onto where they were honest enough and vulnerable enough with each other to have no defences and no pretences in place.

When he licked her top lip with the tip of his tongue, Kestrel dug her fingers into his back, and lower, into his backside. Fenris smiled, laughing a little, breathless, and adjusted his speed. He angled his hips and his pelvis to grind against her. A change which made Kestrel quiver beneath him. She began to raise her hips to meet his, but he held her down against the covers with his strength, keeping her stationary.

His name sounded wonderful, falling like rain drops from her lips.

"Fenris-" Broken with a gasp. "Fenris-" Punctuated with a kiss. "Fenri-" Cut off by a moan when he pressed the flat of his hand against her belly.

Her kisses were imprinted into his mind. Burnt there, like the brands in his skin. The way her mouth tasted, and the way his name sounded falling from lips so breathless and beautiful. Whispered as if she was frantically praying.

She looked at him with eyes full of adoration. A gaze that lingered on his and made it hard to breathe, and harder still to remember how to.

She saw him in a way he had never imagined. As if he was the only person in the world. As if he was the most important person in her world. And that possibility frightened him to his core. To know that he was a person of such importance to her.

He did not feel deserving of such devotion, but he relished the feeling of it all the same. He relished knowing only he would see her like this for the rest of their days. That he would be the only person to know her secrets. Who would know the Kestrel no one else does, except the woman herself.

Kestrel was a woman of her own mind. That she had freely and willingly given herself to him, despite everything, was something that amazed him daily.

Some days he would wake and think it all a lie. That he had somehow dreamed it all and he was still in Minrathous. A slave. Abused and beaten. Some days it was hard to see between the nightmares and the real life, they would blur so easily.

But this was real.

She was real.

The way she looked at him, the way she kissed him, and the way her voice filled his ears were all real. And it was all for him. She was his, as he was hers. And that was a bond not even the Maker could break.

Fenris burned under his sweat and under her hands. His muscles ached, his belly twitched, and he knew he could not hold back any longer.

Lifting his head he kissed Kestrel hard, almost whining into her mouth. The kiss broke when they both gasped for air. Her eyes were on his. His brows furrowed, and he could feel every part of him quavering and straining, coiled like a spring.

He grappled for her hands blindly. Grabbing one, he threaded his fingers between hers, pushing her hand into the pillows above her head. He grasped the wrist of the other and held her down, gripping tight.

He nipped at her lips and he shook.

"Kestrel..."

She dug her fingernails into the back of his hand. Her thighs clutched around his hips. She pressed the heel of one foot into the back of his thigh, urging him.

"Kestrel..."

He gasped against her throat, his breath hot on her skin. She smelled of lyrium and faintly of the lemon and mint soap she used. And of embers. Of embers as they die in a fire. His head filled with the way she smelled and the way she sounded to his sensitive ears.

"Kestrel-!"

Everything inside him tensed and bunched. His vision sparked and he crushed her mouth with his as he came. His body shook. He groaned against her lips, sucking in breaths through his nose. Driving his hips against her, gradually slowing, he rode out every wave of trembling pleasure as they washed over and drowned him.

Beneath him, Kestrel accepted every kiss. She returned every strained whimpered murmur with affectionately whispered words. When she wriggled her hand free, she stroked his hair and his face, peppering kisses over his nose and his cheeks.

Fenris' heart hammered, and he found it hard to hear her over the sound of the blood in his ears. Every part of him felt alive and prickled as his sweat began to cool. His nerves twitched and he felt lucid and languid as he rested against her, cushioning his cheek against her breasts.

Winding her fingers through his hair, Kestrel’s touch trickled down his spine lazily. She breathed steadily, helping him to catch his own.

Neither of them spoke. There was no need, and there were no words either of them had to say.

When his body did not feel quite so unsteady, Fenris slipped out of her and eased onto his side beside her. Their room was warm from the fire in the hearth and their activities, so he didn’t grab the blanket.

Through the doors the music could still be heard playing from the ballroom.

"Do you want to go back?" he asked Kestrel, gently pressing his lips to the side of her temple

"No." She rolled over and curled her body into his. "I would prefer to stay here with you." She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, before dropping her gaze demurely and wriggling closer to him.

Finding her unnecessary coyness endearing, Fenris smiled.

He had no desire to leave either, and so did not argue. He settled onto his side, wrapping one arm underneath Kestrel to cradle her shoulders. With the other he stroked the tips of his fingers down her arm and over her waist, following the same trail with each pass.

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her eyes slipping closed. Fenris kissed her forehead. He breathed steadily, tracing the features of her face with his gaze. A faint scar on her forehead, the way her eyes curved upwards at the corners. How her eyelashes lay on her cheek. Little intimate details which were precious and private.

After a while her breathing became slow and deep. He brushed his lips over the bridge of her nose. "Kestrel?"

"Hm..."

Fenris tapped the end of her nose with his forefinger.

She wriggled her nose and shuffled closer to him and his warmth. A few moments later and she was back to dozing soundly. Fenris' lips drew into a smile against her temple.

"Kestrel, I...," he began, and stopped short, the words catching in his throat.

I love you.

The three words he had wanted to say but couldn’t. Each time they choked him and make him freeze.

He did love her. He knew it. He knew he had not felt like this about anyone, and that the idea of the two of them being parted brought him physical pain.

Yet... those three words were so weighted, and so heavy with meaning, that he could not bring himself to utter them. Not yet.

Perhaps not ever.

His sigh sent tendrils of her hair flying around her face.

He told her sleeping form, "I am yours."

Those words he had said in place of what he wished to, many times. He hoped the meaning was still clear to her.

He hoped one day that he would be able to express himself without fear of tainting the sentiment behind what he says.

For now, telling her time and time again that he was hers was all Fenris could manage.

And maybe that was enough.
Title: Unlaced
Author: blustersquall
Game: Dragon Age II
characters/pairing: Fenris x Kestrel Hawke
Disclaimer: Dragon Age 2 is the property of Bioware, as is Fenris and any other characters mentioned within this piece. Kestrel Hawke is my creation, under the Dragon Age 2 player character, Hawke.

---

Something inspired by this [blustersquall.tumblr.com/post/… babble I had earlier in the week after binging ALL the Poldark.
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:iconvanguardangel:
VanguardAngel Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2015  Student General Artist
This is just....wow. You, my lady, have a true talent!
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Uh, thank you. ^^ "Unlaced" is something I'm still pretty proud of, I'm glad other people like it. :3
Reply
:iconvanguardangel:
VanguardAngel Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2015  Student General Artist
Heh. Sorry, I musta sounded like a weirdo. ^^;
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
No, not at all. It was a compliment and I appreciate it.
It's just, not talent. XD It's practice. Years and years of practice! XD
Reply
:iconvanguardangel:
VanguardAngel Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2015  Student General Artist
Well, its absolutely gorgeous in my opinion. Very rarely will you find literature so....layered, for lack of a better word, these days. Its so much more than just sex, its emotion, passion, and love. I worry people forget about that when it comes to relationships.

For what its worth, I hope I get to your level of writing one day!
Reply
:icon09alice1:
09Alice1 Featured By Owner May 6, 2015
Oh My God!!! This was so beautifull, heartfelt, delicious, wonderfull, fantastic, and many other things I cannot remember in English right now! Great work!
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Thank you so much! This is probably one of my favorite thing I've written this year! I'm quite fond of it! :D
Reply
:iconakantiasolaris:
AkantiaSolaris Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
This was written so beautifully
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Thank you. I tried really hard to get the feeling of this just right. 
Reply
:iconblubaloooo:
blubaloooo Featured By Owner Apr 7, 2015
I love this bitter-sweet emotion that spreads from your words! And Fenris... He's damn hot! *sigh*
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Yes, very bittersweet but that was the point.
Fenris has some of his own issues to get through and his gestures say more than words anyway. But he'll get there.
Thanks for reading. Much appreciated. 
Reply
:iconqueen-scribbles:
queen-scribbles Featured By Owner Apr 7, 2015
God, this is so beautiful, and just the right amount of sexy. I absolutely love the line about how she smells like embers, and Fenris' struggle to say I love you. 
Reply
:iconbluster-squall:
bluster-squall Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Thank you, I really appreciate the comment and the thought.
I like focus on the other senses, I feel like they get forgotten is smut like this.
Anyway, I'm grateful you took the time to read this. c:
Reply
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