Anders rubbed his blurring eyes as an ache formed between his knitted brows. An unfinished manifesto page stared back at him, the period of his last sentence seeming to taunt him with the empty space after it. The apostate let out a frustrated groan, tensing his grip on the barrel of his quill.
Not that it helped him hold it when a soft object struck him in the head. In fact, it did quite the opposite - he flung the quill into the air as he jumped, needing a burst of will to keep Justice back from the threat. The awkward yelp he made, on the other hand, couldn't be restrained. Finally regaining control of his senses, he turned his head back toward his assailant.
He only caught a flash of red hair and a wide grin before the pillow came flying back toward his face. This time, though, Warden's reflexes and a well-timed burst of force magic pushed the fluffy weapon out of his path.
This only brought an exaggerated pout from Hawke. "No fair!" she whined, shoving him lightly with the force of the pillow. "Rules say no magic!"
A light snort managed to escape Anders' grip, and he gave Hawke a gentle push back. "Yes, love, but /you/ snuck up on me. So it /is/ fair. Justice said so."
"Justice /said/ so," Hawke mimicked him, surprisingly accurately but no less ridiculous. "We already know that grumpy old spirit doesn't know how to have a good time." After a moment's pause, she lifted the pillow in one hand and lightly smacked Anders' back with it. "Besides...I'm bored."
"You? /Bored?/" asked Anders, in genuine astonishment. "How is that even possible? You've got so much stuff to do out there." He barely flinched when the pillow hit him.
Hawke gave a rather loud raspberry. "That stuff's all just /work./" Continuing in her best impression of a petulant child, Hawke folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "Every time I go out there, someone else wants me to do something." She threw her hands in the air, beginning a light pace back and forth. "Hawke, can you find my wife's ring so her family doesn't cut me out of the will? Hawke, can you rescue my fool of a lover before he gets himself killed by a completely avoidable death trap?" She went on, bobbing her head in the rhythm of her words. "Hawke, I need twelve Deepstalker asses! Hawke, can you walk down the street and say hello to my mother for me? Hawke this, Hawke that, Hawke, Hawke, Hawke." She took out her irritation on Anders by way of the pillow still hanging in her hand, which she now tossed at him. "As for the others...Fenris isn't feeling social today, I gave up trying to get Merrill to come outside, I hear Aveline still isn't over the last incident at the Chantry, Isabela was...occupied, and I'm pretty sure Varric would just cajole me into doing more work. So..." Every one of her next few words was punctuated by a swat of the pillow against his head. "It's. Just. You and me. And pillows."
Anders responded with a light snort of amusement at Hawke's display of frustration, barely wincing as her pillow gently boffed his face. As the last swing came at him, though, he dove to dodge it and rose to his full height. "Alright, alright, love," he protested, dropping and rolling to the other side of the bed and seizing a pillow for himself. Just holding the feather-stuffed sack made him feel like a young child again.
A young child who never had to learn how cruel the world was toward mages. In the space of a breath, the thought of the face of that clean-shaven boy drifted back into his mind. Clad in his apprentice's robes, swallowing the bile in his gut at the sight of an approaching Templar. His fingertips tightened around the fabric of the pillow, and Justice wrapped around the bones of his arms. As he looked up, though, he saw Hawke's pillow coming down over his head once again. Warden's reflexes took control of him once more, and he raised his own pillow to block the descent of hers. A step back allowed him to gain ground, and he finally came in for a counterattack, shoving his pillow right into Hawke's chest. "Oh-/ho!/ Not this time you don't!"
The rogue staggered back at the shove, toppling rather gracelessly onto the bed behind her. Dropping her own pillow, she seized the corner of Anders' robe and tugged him down to fall with her. "If I go down, I'm taking /you/ with me!" Swinging her free arm out to the side, she took her fluffy weapon back and pulled it over to thump the mage in the chest.
"I'll /never/ surrender to you!" Anders declared, barely able to hide the smile that was forming at the corners of his lips. Justice wound around his breath, filling in the spaces between each, as he questioned the relevance of this event to the suffering of mages across Thedas. Anders swatted away the interruption with his pillow against Hawke's head.
Hawke yelped, bursting into laughter that left her breathless. A mischievous little thought surfaced in her head, and she rolled onto her side, taking Anders by the collar. "We'll see about that," she teased, a twinkle in her eye as she pulled him in close and locked her lips against his.
One would think Anders was used to this by now, but it still took him by just as much surprise as always. A bright flush flooded his cheeks, and his eyelids fell closed. Long arms wrapped around his rogue, holding her securely against him as their heartbeats came into sync. Justice pulsed between them as he sensed the adoration Hawke felt for his mortal. The woman was a veritable puzzle to the spirit, who could perceive virtue and zeal within her, though she still behaved in such a distracting manner. Perhaps reluctantly, he would allow this, for now.
Anders' defiant declaration was shoved back down his throat by Hawke's tongue and held there by her arms. Bony fingers tugged at her robe, wrinkling it between them. A moan escaped from between their lips, and he shifted his hip to roll them both to the side, allowing his hand to weave circles of mana into her back. His other hand sought hers out, curling their fingers together and squeezing firmly. At last wanting for a breath, he turned his lips away from hers, taking the air into his chest and feeling his heart flutter. His lips came down next to her ear, spilling the remnants of that breath in a whisper.
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branchandroot
written for: phoenixrei
Date: 2015-12-20 07:02 am (UTC)Not that it helped him hold it when a soft object struck him in the head. In fact, it did quite the opposite - he flung the quill into the air as he jumped, needing a burst of will to keep Justice back from the threat. The awkward yelp he made, on the other hand, couldn't be restrained. Finally regaining control of his senses, he turned his head back toward his assailant.
He only caught a flash of red hair and a wide grin before the pillow came flying back toward his face. This time, though, Warden's reflexes and a well-timed burst of force magic pushed the fluffy weapon out of his path.
This only brought an exaggerated pout from Hawke. "No fair!" she whined, shoving him lightly with the force of the pillow. "Rules say no magic!"
A light snort managed to escape Anders' grip, and he gave Hawke a gentle push back. "Yes, love, but /you/ snuck up on me. So it /is/ fair. Justice said so."
"Justice /said/ so," Hawke mimicked him, surprisingly accurately but no less ridiculous. "We already know that grumpy old spirit doesn't know how to have a good time." After a moment's pause, she lifted the pillow in one hand and lightly smacked Anders' back with it. "Besides...I'm bored."
"You? /Bored?/" asked Anders, in genuine astonishment. "How is that even possible? You've got so much stuff to do out there." He barely flinched when the pillow hit him.
Hawke gave a rather loud raspberry. "That stuff's all just /work./" Continuing in her best impression of a petulant child, Hawke folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "Every time I go out there, someone else wants me to do something." She threw her hands in the air, beginning a light pace back and forth. "Hawke, can you find my wife's ring so her family doesn't cut me out of the will? Hawke, can you rescue my fool of a lover before he gets himself killed by a completely avoidable death trap?" She went on, bobbing her head in the rhythm of her words. "Hawke, I need twelve Deepstalker asses! Hawke, can you walk down the street and say hello to my mother for me? Hawke this, Hawke that, Hawke, Hawke, Hawke." She took out her irritation on Anders by way of the pillow still hanging in her hand, which she now tossed at him. "As for the others...Fenris isn't feeling social today, I gave up trying to get Merrill to come outside, I hear Aveline still isn't over the last incident at the Chantry, Isabela was...occupied, and I'm pretty sure Varric would just cajole me into doing more work. So..." Every one of her next few words was punctuated by a swat of the pillow against his head. "It's. Just. You and me. And pillows."
Anders responded with a light snort of amusement at Hawke's display of frustration, barely wincing as her pillow gently boffed his face. As the last swing came at him, though, he dove to dodge it and rose to his full height. "Alright, alright, love," he protested, dropping and rolling to the other side of the bed and seizing a pillow for himself. Just holding the feather-stuffed sack made him feel like a young child again.
A young child who never had to learn how cruel the world was toward mages. In the space of a breath, the thought of the face of that clean-shaven boy drifted back into his mind. Clad in his apprentice's robes, swallowing the bile in his gut at the sight of an approaching Templar. His fingertips tightened around the fabric of the pillow, and Justice wrapped around the bones of his arms. As he looked up, though, he saw Hawke's pillow coming down over his head once again. Warden's reflexes took control of him once more, and he raised his own pillow to block the descent of hers. A step back allowed him to gain ground, and he finally came in for a counterattack, shoving his pillow right into Hawke's chest. "Oh-/ho!/ Not this time you don't!"
The rogue staggered back at the shove, toppling rather gracelessly onto the bed behind her. Dropping her own pillow, she seized the corner of Anders' robe and tugged him down to fall with her. "If I go down, I'm taking /you/ with me!" Swinging her free arm out to the side, she took her fluffy weapon back and pulled it over to thump the mage in the chest.
"I'll /never/ surrender to you!" Anders declared, barely able to hide the smile that was forming at the corners of his lips. Justice wound around his breath, filling in the spaces between each, as he questioned the relevance of this event to the suffering of mages across Thedas. Anders swatted away the interruption with his pillow against Hawke's head.
Hawke yelped, bursting into laughter that left her breathless. A mischievous little thought surfaced in her head, and she rolled onto her side, taking Anders by the collar. "We'll see about that," she teased, a twinkle in her eye as she pulled him in close and locked her lips against his.
One would think Anders was used to this by now, but it still took him by just as much surprise as always. A bright flush flooded his cheeks, and his eyelids fell closed. Long arms wrapped around his rogue, holding her securely against him as their heartbeats came into sync. Justice pulsed between them as he sensed the adoration Hawke felt for his mortal. The woman was a veritable puzzle to the spirit, who could perceive virtue and zeal within her, though she still behaved in such a distracting manner. Perhaps reluctantly, he would allow this, for now.
Anders' defiant declaration was shoved back down his throat by Hawke's tongue and held there by her arms. Bony fingers tugged at her robe, wrinkling it between them. A moan escaped from between their lips, and he shifted his hip to roll them both to the side, allowing his hand to weave circles of mana into her back. His other hand sought hers out, curling their fingers together and squeezing firmly. At last wanting for a breath, he turned his lips away from hers, taking the air into his chest and feeling his heart flutter. His lips came down next to her ear, spilling the remnants of that breath in a whisper.
"I love you."
He surrendered.