Fenris got as far as the entryway before he saw anything at all. In a great rush Hawke's manor flashed before his eyes until he was at the door with his hand on the latch, and he stopped. He stared at his trembling hand at the door, only a second away from yanking it open.

He could not bring himself to go through it.

Fenris backed away. He sat down hard and ran his hands over his hair, over his face, and then pounded on the bench below him in frustration.

What was wrong with him?This was not a darkspawn invasion; there were no slavers at his back. There were only two beautiful women who, for some unfathomable reason, wanted him. (Who were probably now realizing that he was a deranged person.)

Why should he not simply take their offer and let them do what they will with him? They had not quickly grown bored of teasing him, as he thought they would. They did not seem in danger of changing their minds. Though he would still be only a temporary diversion for the couple, his reward would be considerable.

Would it be worth the difficulty, and the complications it would bring to his life in Kirkwall, for something that would not last?

And there was another danger. Though he felt he had restrained himself admirably thus far, the intrusion of past events into his thoughts back there in the library had frightened him. Clearly he was not entirely in control of himself. Perhaps he would not be able to contain his depravities after all.

He wanted nothing of the Imperium to touch Isabela or Hawke in any way. Even if that included him, if he was not entirely free of its corruption.

Fenris forced himself to breathe slower and more deeply, to return to calmness.

He wanted them. They wanted him. It should be simple. But nothing was simple, not since the day he had walked away from his life as a slave.

He rested his head against the wall behind him, feeling foolish.

He had let Hawke draw him into this. After watching the two of them together, there was no way back. Now he knew exactly what they offered.

He had spoken truly when he called it a gift. It was a beautiful memory, one for him to cling to in his darker hours. Now they had given him yet more, and they offered still more to come. To go back to solitude after this would be... difficult.

He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. Not until he was sure of himself. If he could persuade them to wait, he could resolve his situation and be free to do as he wished.

But what if Danarius never came for him? What if he sent only endless waves of lackeys and stayed forever out of his reach? Would he have to live like this indefinitely?

Hawke and Isabela had been patient with him, but they would not wait forever.

He shook his head. Foolish. He was a foolish man, to even entertain this notion.

But he was deciding to be foolish, apparently.

With a rushing feeling not unlike jumping off a cliff, his hands were already unbuckling his chest plate, before he even realized what he was doing. He worked the last fastening and pulled it off him, leaving the black shirt he wore beneath it. The plate smashed to the floor with a satisfying metallic racket.

It was not nearly the unveiling that the girls had done for him, but he had to start somewhere.

No more half measures. It was sink or swim.

Fenris took a deep breath and walked back into the library, leaving his armor discarded on the floor.


When Fenris returned to the library, Isabela had already redressed herself, and the girls sat together with their arms around each other, much as he had found them when first he arrived, only now their embrace was glum and disappointed.

He returned to his empty chair in a sudden rush, as Hawke and Isabela looked up at him in surprise.

"I'm back," the elf said unnecessarily.

"I can see that," Isabela said coolly. But when she noticed that his armor was gone, she could not help looking him over with new interest.

Hawke nudged her openly, in case she hadn't seen it yet. "Your armor!"

"I left it outside," he said, again stating the obvious, and stared at the floor a little sheepishly.

"I wasn't sure it actually comes off," Isabela said, her voice covered in frost.

Ah. Right. He had left her naked in front of him, with no explanation. Not any that would justify his actions, at any rate.

"I am truly sorry for walking out," he said contritely, still studying the floor. "I... I had to think it over."

"It's all right," Hawke said, reassuringly. She was pleased enough that he had returned without anyone chasing after him. Returning without his chest plate was even more promising, when he was so rarely without it.

"It isn't all right. I apologize."

Isabela was not quite meeting his eyes, but her expression softened somewhat.

"If you are still willing," he offered hesitantly, "I would like to continue."

Hawke exchanged glances with her lover. It was really up to her. Though her lover would never say so, she was pretty sure the elf had hurt her feelings. "Is it all right, Bela?"

Isabela sighed, and shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "If you want, kitten."

Which basically decided it. Because as they both knew, Hawke very much did.

"What were you thinking, Fenris? Shall we go back to what we were doing?" Hawke asked him.

He took several breaths to decide his answer. "Would you... sit beside me?"

Hawke was delighted with this.

She bounced up to her feet and flashed an excited grin to Isabela. She just barely managed to contain herself enough to settle onto the seat next to him in a fairly civilized manner.

They just fit; the chair was not large but they were both slender, except for Hawke's wide hips. One of which was now pressed right up against his in a decidedly pleasant way.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Hawke studying the planes of his torso without the added bulk of his spiky armor and resisting the urge to run her hands over it. Fenris contemplating her full lips in a way he had never allowed himself to before.

"May I kiss you?" he asked her sincerely.

Part of her wanted to laugh at this, and joke that since he'd already seen her naked and watched her have sex with her girlfriend and everything, the permission to touch her was well established. But it was sort of sweet, so she simply nodded.

She felt his fingers rest tentatively against her cheek. Then he moved in and touched his lips to hers.

The touch was not a flash of lightening but a long, slow roll of thunder. With a sweet, shared breath they moved together, drawing closer. Their hands rose spontaneously and grasped at each other's clothing. Sweetly, insistently, they moved under the same spell.

Isabela watched the two of them kiss. At first it was only lips, tasting each other, slow and relaxed. Then their pace quickened, mouths opened, and the kiss grew deeper. She had tasted both of them, and knew how they would be together. Him hungry, possessive, questing with his tongue; her teasing, playful, biting his lower lip until he growled under his breath.

"Excuse me," Isabela interrupted them.

Their lips parted so they could turn to Isabela. She had come to kneel on the floor in front of the two of them, looking put out.

"I'm getting lonely down here," she said pointedly.

"Greedy," Hawke admonished her cheerfully. "You've had all of my attention tonight up to now."

"But when do I get a kiss?" she asked Fenris.

"You've had one already, as I recall," Hawke pointed out.

But Fenris released his grip on Marian and said, "Now, if you like."

The pirate brought her hands up slowly to rest on the elf's knees, and then pulled herself up lightly. Her impressive bosom spilled nearly into his lap as she leaned over him for her kiss.

Isabela did not hesitate. She plunged right in, leading with her tongue. She knew exactly what to do to make his toes curl. But she was surprisingly sweet, too, soft and pliant under his hands.

When Isabela started to pull back he chased after her, his hands reaching to clasp the back of her neck.

When he could see her again, she had another kind of smile on her face that he had never seen there before.

"What do you know?" she said, pleased. "Looks like you're not made of stone after all."

He supposed not. However much he might wish to be at times.

Fenris looked between the two girls, unsure how to manage both of them at once.

Isabela's hands roamed upwards from his knees, drawing his attention down. "Sit back and relax, Sweet Thing," she told him.

He did as he was told.

"There's something I've wanted to do for you for a long, long time," Isabela said. With a decidedly predatory gaze, she reached her hands up under his shirt, the sudden contact making him hiss.

Hawke leaned her head against Fenris's shoulder, much as she had always done with Isabela. Her own arms wrapped around his left arm and held him still, there, as if he might get up and run away again at any moment and she had no intention of allowing it.

Isabela's hands with their long fingernails danced across his abdomen, making his breath catch. Then, quick as a cat she darted forward, into his lap, and pressed her mouth to his stomach.

Hawke slipped one hand over to run a hand through the pirate's hair. "Heh. You read my mind. That's exactly what I've been wanting to do."

"Not quite," she interrupted her kisses to say. "You bite." Her mouth drifted slowly down from his belly button, as her hands ran over his muscular stomach. "And I haven't even gotten started yet."

She dropped back to the floor, sliding her hands back down to his knees, suddenly the picture of decorum.

"Your turn," she told Hawke.

Hawke turned the elf's face back to her with a gentle hand at his jaw. She enjoyed kissing him. It seemed to send tiny electric shocks down her spine. When his mouth joined hers again she reached up her hands to his chest and explored, enjoying the warmth beneath her fingers. His own hands grasped her waist, squeezing lightly.

Somewhere in her awareness Hawke could tell how much effort it was costing Fenris to remain still beside her. His hands shook, a little, where they held her.

"Is it all right?" she asked him, to make sure.

She was rewarded with a rare genuine smile from him. "Much more than all right."

He was, to be precise, almost delirious with pleasure. Isabela's hands were drifting up and down his thighs in a pleasant way, but he had to avoid looking at her; the naked lust in her expression was too much to take in just then.

He stayed focused on Hawke, on her shy little kisses and her beautiful turquoise eyes. His hands on her waist could feel the heat of her body even through the velvety thickness of her clothes. She was so pleased with his efforts, which he knew were clumsy and insufficient. He avoided the sight of his own hands on those spectacular curves; they were so ugly and unworthy of her.

But she was just so... happy. Marian giggled and grinned and practically quivered with delight. It made her so much more attractive than he had even realized possible. She was radiant. So much so that despite his best intentions to do only this and no more, he simply could not stop touching her. Sweet Maker, she was so beautiful it was going to kill him. He was going to drown in this.

And then he became aware of Isabela's confident hands unlacing his trousers.

Already, just from the kissing, the blood had rushed to his pelvis and the tingling tightness of his erection pressed against its housing. With the very slight, teasing touches of Isabela's fingers as she worked his pants off, the overwhelming sense of need drowned out any other consideration. His protestations melted away along with his reason. There was no other thought in his head but want and a much smaller but still persistent voice that endlessly ran on - must not hurt them must not

He grunted into Hawke's mouth when he felt warm fingers wrap around his cock. Already hard, it extended even more dramatically at her touch. But it had been so long since he had been touched that he could not stop his lyrium from flaring to life in his defense.

Hawke paused their kiss to look down at Isabela's progress, and then back into his eyes. "Go slow, darling," she cautioned the pirate.

To Fenris, she added with a smile, "We're going to take good care of you."

Which was the sort of sentiment he would hate under normal circumstances, but a strangely comforting one right now. For the first time, Marian's hand reached along his arm to touch the veins of lyrium entrapped there, and gave them loving attention. With more of her unimaginably appealing shy smile, she bent down and kissed them, tasting them tentatively with her tongue, until their angry light died down into nothing and it was merely his skin again, golden in the bright light of the library.

Meanwhile Isabela's hands gripped him, pulled him free of his trousers and held him steady there, waiting.

Hawke slid her arm around the back of Fenris's neck, forcing him to rest against her. They both looked down at Isabela's hands, at his erection standing between them. It was the only part of him besides his face that was completely unmarked by lyrium.

Isabela was at first disappointed that he was not branded there, her imagination having dwelt many times on the thought of his glowing cock. But she was glad he wasn't, after all. It might have complicated her task here.

With both Hawke and Fenris's eyes on her, she extended her tongue and licked the tip of his cock, dipping briefly into its slit.

Fenris made a strangled sound, and his head fell back against Hawke.

Isabela smiled and licked him again, her hands smoothing slickness down his shaft.

"Has no one done this for you?" she asked him.

"No," he gasped, grasping at the chair beneath him to try to steady himself. No, there had not been much interest in his pleasure, in the past. This was a new thing. "You don't have to-" he started to say.

"Shh. I want to."

He would not last long then, between the two of them. And Isabela intended him to come down her throat. So she wet her lips and took him, first the flared head, flicking it with her tongue, and then all of him, sliding down with excruciating slowness.

The sight of Isabela's face sinking down onto Fenris's cock was unbearably arousing to Hawke. And the sounds he made! She knew he was trying to contain them, but he could not help gasping and whimpering at the things Isabela could do with her tongue.

"She likes doing this," she whispered in his ear. "Isabela has fantasized about sucking your cock for a long time."

His head flung back against her again, his chest heaving.

"She must be very good. She's awfully good at going down on me, I know."

Hawke was noticing, finally, that her breath in his ear was having an effect of its own. He seemed to sigh a little every time she did it, and she suspected it wasn't (entirely) her words that were doing the trick.

Isabela was bobbing up and down, now, using her hands to grasp the base of his cock. Her palms grazed his balls and occasionally she freed one hand to cup them, massaging lightly with expert confidence.

Hawke had wanted to note every one of these motions, for future reference, since she fully intended to do the same task herself for him.

But right now she was distracted by her own discovery. Experimentally, she pressed her lips to the edge of his long elven ear, and felt a shiver run through his whole body.

Isabela stopped for a moment, chuckling. "Whatever you just did, he reeeally likes it," she informed Hawke.

"Hmmm," she said, and licked the outer ridge of his ear from lobe to tip.

His cock visibly twitched in Bela's hands, and Fenris let out a low moan. When she pulled back, he looked over at Hawke with heavy-lidded eyes, pleading with her to do it again. And down at Isabela, similarly desperate. Even a few seconds without their touch was unbearable at this point.

Isabela smiled cruelly. "Say please," she said.

"Oro te ... placere ..." he gasped.

"Close enough."

All at once, Hawke sucked the lobe of his ear into her mouth as Isabela swallowed him whole. Mercilessly she worked the sensitive skin with her tongue and felt him writhe in her arms. She could see Bela with her nose pressed to him, and could see her throat working to contain him. When she swallowed, he groaned helplessly, working very hard to hold still.

He must be close now. She could see his lips moving, as if in prayer, but the words were inaudible and foreign.

Hawke realized she had the power to release him, and set about it quickly. Her teeth closed around his ear in the spot that most made him squirm, and firmly bit down. It made his mouth fall open and his body arch away from the chair, thrusting finally into Isabela's waiting mouth, and she knew he was coming. She held him there in her teeth through every shudder, her arms holding him steady, as Isabela swallowed his seed.

When it was over, and they both released him, he rested against Hawke. His face was strikingly peaceful for once. She ran a hand through his white hair, as she had always wanted to do, and he did not complain.

He could not remember ever having felt so good.