Work Text:
Adan stood in her bathrobe, leaning against the side of the heavy tub that she could now afford by virtue of being one of Kirkwall’s Most Wealthy. Once, her mother would have tacked ‘Bachlorettes’ onto that title, scolding her that an Elf made a fine lover but never a permanent fixture in the life of a lady. She would have argued that she wasn’t a lady by birth, that the woman who had married an apostate “for love” had no right to ever criticize Adan for her choices, but her mother was beyond her now.
Leandra had been a wonderful woman, in many ways, but she was flawed, and Adan knew that better than either of her siblings ever had.
No human man could ever give her what Fenris had given her, she thought as she watched him unfasten his gauntlets, flashing her that shy, affectionate smile of his.
No man was as loyal as Fenris, as gentle as Fenris, as awestruck by her as Fenris. She felt so often like a mabari hound among the slim-figured women in her family, a “Hawke woman” through and through, as her mother had put it. Heavyset, hardly the mold of beauty set by the Orlesian standard.
She was big, big breasts, big butt, wide hips, and Fenris... Fenris loved her not only in spite of these things, but because of them. It was so obvious in the way he looked at her, even now, smiling that lopsided smile of his before he averted his eyes, the tips of his ears turning a fetching shade of red.
How she had captured his attention, she would never know, though he had once told her that it was more than her beauty that had drawn him in. Adan didn’t understand how her beauty could have impacted him in the first place when she both took up space and vanished in a crowd, for as tall as she was. She was impossible to see, so how did he see her?
“Will you help me with the breastplate?”
His rumbling voice drew her from her navel gazing, drawing a smile to her lips. Walking to his side, she worked at the fastenings on his leather breastplate, stepping back as he shrugged it off and quickly worked on disrobing.
In no time he was standing in nothing, smiling at her in that way of his, reaching out to grasp her face in both of his worn hands and kiss her slowly. Adan could feel his every emotion in that kiss and melted into it, into Fenris, who was her steady anchor in the storm that was Kirkwall. No matter what, he was always there, unshakable and loyal, impossibly so.
A knot had formed in her throat by the time he pulled away, his hands falling to the sash that held her robe together. He gazed up from underneath his eyelashes, asking permission without saying anything, and she recalled all Fenris had gone through, thought of the voice that sometimes haunted her nightmares. The man with the sneer hadn’t ripped her down and rebuilt her, so she’d no idea how Fenris stayed standing after all of that, how he could love her when sometimes her magic felt as telling as the sun-burst brand on the forehead of the Tranquil.
But love her he did.
He let her in, and in was… Was incredible. He was a man of conviction and worth, a man so loyal that his support alone could shake the very foundations of Kirkwall to their deepest, blackest roots.
Adan nodded, and her robe quickly fell away, Fenris loosing her sash and slipping the fabric from her shoulders. He took her hand and helped her into the tub, settling in behind her a moment later, her back to his chest, his hands reaching out to massage small circles in her tense shoulders.
Fenris was stronger in spirit than he was in body, which was incredible. His sword had to be a sixth of his weight and yet he moved with a grace and precision that left her enemies, the enemies of the common man, a sobbing, weeping mess. His soul was stronger than steel, his constitution possessing of a wordless strength, and he had dedicated all that he was to her.
You didn’t need to deserve something for it to be good.
The fact was, she didn’t deserve Fenris. Adan was tactless, brash, sometimes very difficult and certainly always insecure. She made bad decisions that she knew would affect more people in the long run than anyone could predict, and her company was sometimes questionable. She certainly didn’t deserve a man who looked at her like she was Andraste herself.
But Fenris deserved to have a choice.
If Adan could give him one thing, it would be that choice to be who he wanted to be, and if who he wanted to be included being her lover, she wasn’t going to complain.
Insecurities be damned.