Dragon Age | Fenris/Isabela | Home
Title: Home
Word Count: 1146
Rating: M
Warning: Nudity, sexual content
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Fenris/Isabela
Disclaimer: Dragon Age II (c) Bioware & EA
***
“It’s been a long time,” Isabela said.
Isabela hadn’t thought much of Kirkwall since she’d left. Her heart had yearned for the ocean and she had set sail without even sparing the city a glance over her shoulder. The waves had thrilled her, the wild storms and close quarters and sweaty, brawny men had excited her in ways she had forgotten were possible.
In the back of her mind had been this place though. Alleyways and undercity and elven men with dark green eyes. Isabela had found the waves too harsh, the sky too black, the men too loud. She wanted solid land, she wanted sunrises over rooftops, she wanted Fenris.
Fenris was happy enough to board her ship and follow her around, acting impressed when she described every minute detail to him. He knew nothing about sailing or vessels, and nothing about what secret and sensual desire moved her to take to open waters. What mattered to Isabela was that he tried. That day when Isabela had left Kirkwall to chase treasure and bathe in the sun and ride the rolling waves Fenris had stood at the dock and watched her.
He hadn’t asked her to stay. He hadn’t asked her what she thought she would discover or why the journey was more important than the destination; why it was more important than him. All Fenris had done was kiss her, tell her to be safe, and watch her sail away into the sunset.
“Too long,” Fenris said. It had been several minutes since either of them had spoken. Isabela was unused to the quiet, particularly comfortable silence. She enjoyed sitting there across from a friend, letting each of their hearts beating be enough.
For the first time in her life, Isabela was at a loss as to what to say or do. She looked down at her hands, scuffed and callused, and chuckled to herself. She had never heard herself laugh with such nervousness, and it surprised her. What was there to be nervous about? It was only Fenris, it was only sex, it was only one afternoon together in the dark comfort of her cabin.
She knew it was more than that. Fenris was more than that. The way that he had gotten inside of her, an itch under her skin that she couldn’t reach no matter how hard she tried, was something that hadn’t happened in a very long time, if it ever had at all. Isabela wanted him, but she also needed him.
Need wasn’t something she was familiar with. She needed air in her lungs and food in her belly and the sea air lifting the hair from her temples. She needed things, not people.
“I imagine you have been on quite a few adventures since I last saw you,” Fenris said, “Did you want to tell me about them?”
What would she tell him? What could she say? What words would fill the empty spaces that miles and months had placed between them?
“No,” Isabela said, “No, I... I don’t want to talk about any of that, Fenris.”
Fenris raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he murmured, “Well... What did you want to talk about, Isabela?”
Her hand rested on his knee. “I don’t want to talk.”
After all the time they had been apart it shouldn’t have been so easy to melt together. But Maker, it was. They kissed and it was as natural as breathing. As vital as breathing. Everything was slow at first, dark hands on dark skin, small kisses on lips and throat and chest. And then everything was blurry and hot and she was on the bed with Fenris’ face between her thighs.
Isabela grabbed Fenris’ hair and tugged, pulling his mouth tighter against her. It had been a long time for her, longer than she was used to going without a pretty face buried in her, and her body responded incredibly. She moaned and bucked her hips, wet and dripping against Fenris’ wriggling tongue. Her free hand roamed her chest, grabbing her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples.
Isabela was hot all over. It pulsed in her veins and down in her gut and loins. It was too much.
Fenris was pushed away and flipped onto his back. Isabela was glad to see the elf had decided to wear something more casual than his ridiculous spiky armor; there was no way she was patient enough to peel him out of his clothes.
“Isabela,” Fenris whispered. He brushed back an errant strand of hair from her cheek and cupped her chin, tilting her face up. “I need to tell you that... I have missed you. More than I thought I would, and more than I probably should have. That day when you left I should have told you how I felt. I should have told you that I loved you and wanted you to stay, but I didn’t want to... I never wanted you to feel obligated---”
“Fenris,” Isabela interrupted, “Shut up.”
She gave him a lopsided smile before her lips were around his cock and his head was falling back on the pillow.
His taste was one Isabela had missed. Of course she had bedded people in the time she had been gone -- a fact that she was sure Fenris was fully aware of -- but it hadn’t possessed even a fraction of the power and pleasure she had with Fenris. All of the sweet island girls and brawny pirate men had paled in comparison.
Fenris had the softest skin she had ever touched, the sweetest lips she had ever kissed, and something else -- something much deeper -- that tortured her heart. He was fragile, though he would sooner die than ever admit it. He was angry and embittered, but he was the closest thing Isabela had ever found to home, and she swallowed him down and breathed him in.
Everything she had ever done had been selfish. Hawke had told her she had a heart of gold, that all they had to do was dig it out of her and sell it. Isabela had laughed, but it had hurt her. Because precious things were valuable things, and valuable things always had a buyer.
Fenris had been bought. Fenris had been owned. Isabela would never let it happen again. Some precious things needed protecting.
“About those adventures of yours,” Fenris murmured, after they had made love and settled and crawled under the blankets. His breath was hot against her temple, his skin still damp with sweat under her fingers.
“There’s no better adventure than finding where you belong,” Isabela said. She closed her eyes, listened to his heart beating, and smiled to herself. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that, sweetheart?”
Word Count: 1146
Rating: M
Warning: Nudity, sexual content
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Fenris/Isabela
Disclaimer: Dragon Age II (c) Bioware & EA
***
“It’s been a long time,” Isabela said.
Isabela hadn’t thought much of Kirkwall since she’d left. Her heart had yearned for the ocean and she had set sail without even sparing the city a glance over her shoulder. The waves had thrilled her, the wild storms and close quarters and sweaty, brawny men had excited her in ways she had forgotten were possible.
In the back of her mind had been this place though. Alleyways and undercity and elven men with dark green eyes. Isabela had found the waves too harsh, the sky too black, the men too loud. She wanted solid land, she wanted sunrises over rooftops, she wanted Fenris.
Fenris was happy enough to board her ship and follow her around, acting impressed when she described every minute detail to him. He knew nothing about sailing or vessels, and nothing about what secret and sensual desire moved her to take to open waters. What mattered to Isabela was that he tried. That day when Isabela had left Kirkwall to chase treasure and bathe in the sun and ride the rolling waves Fenris had stood at the dock and watched her.
He hadn’t asked her to stay. He hadn’t asked her what she thought she would discover or why the journey was more important than the destination; why it was more important than him. All Fenris had done was kiss her, tell her to be safe, and watch her sail away into the sunset.
“Too long,” Fenris said. It had been several minutes since either of them had spoken. Isabela was unused to the quiet, particularly comfortable silence. She enjoyed sitting there across from a friend, letting each of their hearts beating be enough.
For the first time in her life, Isabela was at a loss as to what to say or do. She looked down at her hands, scuffed and callused, and chuckled to herself. She had never heard herself laugh with such nervousness, and it surprised her. What was there to be nervous about? It was only Fenris, it was only sex, it was only one afternoon together in the dark comfort of her cabin.
She knew it was more than that. Fenris was more than that. The way that he had gotten inside of her, an itch under her skin that she couldn’t reach no matter how hard she tried, was something that hadn’t happened in a very long time, if it ever had at all. Isabela wanted him, but she also needed him.
Need wasn’t something she was familiar with. She needed air in her lungs and food in her belly and the sea air lifting the hair from her temples. She needed things, not people.
“I imagine you have been on quite a few adventures since I last saw you,” Fenris said, “Did you want to tell me about them?”
What would she tell him? What could she say? What words would fill the empty spaces that miles and months had placed between them?
“No,” Isabela said, “No, I... I don’t want to talk about any of that, Fenris.”
Fenris raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he murmured, “Well... What did you want to talk about, Isabela?”
Her hand rested on his knee. “I don’t want to talk.”
After all the time they had been apart it shouldn’t have been so easy to melt together. But Maker, it was. They kissed and it was as natural as breathing. As vital as breathing. Everything was slow at first, dark hands on dark skin, small kisses on lips and throat and chest. And then everything was blurry and hot and she was on the bed with Fenris’ face between her thighs.
Isabela grabbed Fenris’ hair and tugged, pulling his mouth tighter against her. It had been a long time for her, longer than she was used to going without a pretty face buried in her, and her body responded incredibly. She moaned and bucked her hips, wet and dripping against Fenris’ wriggling tongue. Her free hand roamed her chest, grabbing her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples.
Isabela was hot all over. It pulsed in her veins and down in her gut and loins. It was too much.
Fenris was pushed away and flipped onto his back. Isabela was glad to see the elf had decided to wear something more casual than his ridiculous spiky armor; there was no way she was patient enough to peel him out of his clothes.
“Isabela,” Fenris whispered. He brushed back an errant strand of hair from her cheek and cupped her chin, tilting her face up. “I need to tell you that... I have missed you. More than I thought I would, and more than I probably should have. That day when you left I should have told you how I felt. I should have told you that I loved you and wanted you to stay, but I didn’t want to... I never wanted you to feel obligated---”
“Fenris,” Isabela interrupted, “Shut up.”
She gave him a lopsided smile before her lips were around his cock and his head was falling back on the pillow.
His taste was one Isabela had missed. Of course she had bedded people in the time she had been gone -- a fact that she was sure Fenris was fully aware of -- but it hadn’t possessed even a fraction of the power and pleasure she had with Fenris. All of the sweet island girls and brawny pirate men had paled in comparison.
Fenris had the softest skin she had ever touched, the sweetest lips she had ever kissed, and something else -- something much deeper -- that tortured her heart. He was fragile, though he would sooner die than ever admit it. He was angry and embittered, but he was the closest thing Isabela had ever found to home, and she swallowed him down and breathed him in.
Everything she had ever done had been selfish. Hawke had told her she had a heart of gold, that all they had to do was dig it out of her and sell it. Isabela had laughed, but it had hurt her. Because precious things were valuable things, and valuable things always had a buyer.
Fenris had been bought. Fenris had been owned. Isabela would never let it happen again. Some precious things needed protecting.
“About those adventures of yours,” Fenris murmured, after they had made love and settled and crawled under the blankets. His breath was hot against her temple, his skin still damp with sweat under her fingers.
“There’s no better adventure than finding where you belong,” Isabela said. She closed her eyes, listened to his heart beating, and smiled to herself. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that, sweetheart?”