37 + fhawke/fenris

jawsandbones:

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Prompt #37: “Wanna Dance?” Fenris x FemHawke


He wakes
early, as he is prone to do. It is ingrained in him to rise with the sun, no
matter where he is. Today Fenris wakes in their camp by Sundermount, when the
sun is only just beginning to crack over the horizon. Hawke is sitting, leaning
against a tree, her arms and legs crossed, and her eyes closed. He walks to her
side, standing above her and tells her, “the point of being on watch is to
be awake.” Immediately, an eye snaps open to look at him.

“Not asleep,
just resting my eyes,” she says with a huff. Closing her eye once again, she
shuffles her position, dismissing him with a grunt. He chuckles and settles
down beside her, one knee up to rest his arm upon. He is contented, just to be
beside Hawke. It is quiet, with only the early sounds of birds, the distant
echo of crickets.

“I expected
more dancing,” she says suddenly. Fenris turns to her, amused.

“Excuse me?”
She turns to him, both eyes wide open, her hand waving at the distance.

“Yeah! You
know how many stories I was told about elves dancing in the moonlight? We’re
right by a Dalish camp and nothing. Where are my dancing elves Fenris? I need
my dancing elves!” He chuckles, covering his hand with his mouth. She looks
pleased that he’s laughing, a grin appearing on her face. He rises to his feet,
stretching slightly, before extending a hand to her.

“Let’s dance
then, Hawke,” he says. She’s suddenly hesitant, her grin faltering, and the
hand she places in his is filled with worry.

“I don’t know
how,” she says as he helps her to her feet. He hums an acknowledgement of her
statement but that doesn’t stop him from drawing her into his arms. She has a
frown, a worried bite of her lip, but she does as he directs and places a hand
on his shoulder. He places a hand around her waist, keeping her close.

“Don’t look
down,” he says as her eyes are firmly planted on her feet, “look at me.” Blue
eyes meet green and he gives her a reassuring smile as he begins to move. His
steps are light and quick while hers are stuttered and unsure. “At me, Hawke.”
Another reminder as her eyes frequently flick downwards.

“I’m going to
step on your feet!” She complains. He shakes his head and knocks his forehead
gently against hers.

“Allow me to
guide you and you won’t hurt me,” he tells her, pressing his hand even tighter
against the small of her back. He leads her in the steps slowly, back and
forth, turning slightly, all the while holding her hand tightly in his.

“If you teach
me, maybe I’ll start accepting all those invitations to celebrate the ‘Champion’
and drag you with me,” she says as she begins to ease into the steps.

“Please don’t,”
he says weakly. She chuckles at his reply, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.
They move together for a few moments more, Fenris’s fingertips gently pressing
her in the direction she needs to go. She steps closer, her hand leaving his
and sliding up his arm, until her hands meet behind his head. She smiles up at
him, and presses a kiss to his lips, a hand winding into his hair.

They sway
together closely in silence, and not once does Hawke step on his toes. “There
are so many things I still don’t know about you, like your secret dancing
talent,” she tells him softly.

“It’s an
innate skill all elves are born with, along with frolicking,” he says to her
quite seriously. She barks out quick bursts of laughter in disbelief. He joins
her in laughter, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He swallows up her
laughter in hungry kisses, hands roving over her hips and back.

“I can think
of another few skills you have,” she says slyly, fingertips tracing down from
the tip of his ear to his jaw, settling on his chin where she holds him so she
can kiss him again.

“This is a
wonderful thing to wake up to, praise Andraste,” Isabela says, lying on her
side, propped up on an elbow. Merrill is sitting up next to her, legs crossed
and grin wide, with her hands on gleeful cheeks. Hawke rolls her eyes and
begins to pull away, but Fenris keeps a hold on her waist. He moves one hand
down to her thigh and lifts it, dipping her over in a sweeping kiss. Isabela
and Merrill whoop and cheer, while Hawke is breathless with delighted laughter.

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