A/N: Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoy the latest installment of The Hunted. Please review! Your comments truly motivate me to bring this story to life.

Love,

Sasha

PS: Just as a warning (or let's be serious… as a TEASER) to my readers: this chapter indulges in some deliciously graphic romance.

The Hunted

Chapter Seven:

Slices of Heaven

A chorus of "g'mornings" greeted Hawke as she came down the stairs into the pub. Nearly all of her companions were already ploughing into to first decent meal they'd had since their escape from Kirkwall. They must have walked over from the Vaga de Noche earlier that morning. The sight of juice dripping from the apricot in Bethany's hand ignited Hawke's ravenous hunger. She took the empty seat next to Fenris, who had come down a couple minutes before she had, and plucked a bread roll from a basket in the middle of the table. The bread was brick hard, but food was food. After more than a week of having nothing to eat but old jerky and water of questionable quality, it never occurred to her to be picky. She attacked the bread with gusto.

"Wow, Hawke. What did that roll ever do to you? Insult the memory of your parents? Slow down before you break your teeth. Here, try soaking it in some olive oil." The dwarf pushed a tureen of oil toward her.

Hawke, grinning, tore off a hunk of bread and dipped it in the tureen. "My jaw thanks you, Varric."

"I care about your body parts, Hawke. I need them intact so you can produce fresh material for my epic narrative." The dwarf winked before entertaining Merril by tossing grapes high into the air and catching them with his mouth. The little elf gasped and clapped with each capture. Between Varric's antics and getting to eat actual food, Merrill was in raptures.

After blissfully savouring a few softened mouthfuls of bread, Hawke turned to the woman on her left. "Good morning, Aveline. I don't see Donnic or Isabela here. Has she tormented your fine husband into taking more sailing lessons?" she joked. She leaned her leg against Fenris's. His hand snaked across her lower thigh.

Aveline heaved one of her customary sighs. "No, Donnic's had enough of Isabela's colourful lectures to last a lifetime. They're off right now trying to secure us transportation to his uncle Lucian's vineyard. It's not a long trek – not by our standards – but he's anxious to get there before nightfall."

"Is the road dangerous?"

"Oh no, it's not that at all." Aveline started to blush. "Donnic's just, well, you know how Donnic is, ah, such a gentleman," Aveline's rouge began to obscure her freckles as an amused grin spread across Hawke's face. "He says he wants me to meet Lucian and his wife in the daylight so they can see how, ah, beautiful I am." The blood fueling the Guard Captain's blush pumped so furiously through her ears that it obscured the sound of Fenris snorting into a mug of goat's milk. Hawke kicked him under the table.

"Aveline, have I told you that I like Donnic? You may keep him."

The Ferelden smirked. "I'm glad you approve." She took a bite of smoked meat before looking back at Hawke. "It's a relief knowing Donnic and I have got a place to stay, but what about everyone else? I've been trying to work out where the rest of our group is going to be able to stay now that we're in Antiva."

Hawke nodded. "I spoke with Isabela. She says she'll be living aboard her ship. She's going to look for contracts to transport cargo. Plenty of work like that to be had in here, I'm sure." Hawke looked across the table at Merrill, who was trying and failing at Varric's trick with the grapes. Varric, in turn, was failing not to laugh. "What about you, Merrill?" asked Hawke. "Have you thought about where you'd like to stay for now? Have you considered scouting out the Alienages?"

A grape bounced off the tiny mage's forehead, rolled across the table, and joined a dozen others on the floor. "Oh yes, I have, actually. I think I'd like to give the Alienage a real try this time. I never really bothered to explore the Alienage in Kirkwall; I was so preoccupied with our adventures… and with the Eluvian, of course," her eyes went downcast with the thought, but she perked up quickly. "It would be nice to meet my neighbours this time and get to know the people."

"That sounds great, Merrill. Maybe you could even share some of the stories you learned from the Keeper," said Hawke.

The elf's eyes lit up with excitement. She was about to answer when Isabela burst into the pub, followed by Donnic. The pirate made a beeline for Hawke and Aveline and draped her arms across the women's shoulders. "Excellent news, Big Girl," she said to Aveline. "Donnic and I have found you a ride out of the city. Hope you don't mind livestock carts."

"We found a farmer who sold all the goats he'd brought to the market yesterday evening, and he's making ready to return to the country this morning," said Donnic. "He's willing to take us for a few silvers since the vineyard is along his way back. He'll be departing from the city gates in a half an hour, so we've got to leave now to catch him in time."

Aveline nodded. After taking a few last bites of breakfast and standing from the table she said, "Why don't you come with us, Hawke? You should know where Donnic and I are staying in case you need to reach us. Don't worry about keeping your presence in Antiva a secret; we can tell them that you worked with us in the Guard. You can go by Amell."

Hawke smiled. "That's my Aveline. Always thinking one step ahead of disaster. What do you say, Fenris? Are you up for some fresh air, or do you think you'd miss the aroma of stale mead and unwashed bodies too much to leave the Mad Dog for a day?

"Donnic," said Fenris, "Does your uncle make wine at this vineyard?"

"Of course."

The elf was on his feet before Hawke could so much as blink. "Let's be off, then."

As far as Hawke was concerned, Lucian lived on a slice of Heaven. The sandstone farmhouse sat atop a hill flanked by lines of cypress trees, and the terracotta roof looked over a small horse stable and countless rows of grape-bearing vines running down the gentle slopes below. The setting sun hung low over the mountains in the distance, bathing the world in a warm amber glow. Surrounded by the green, gold, and purple hues of the vineyard where the very air was fragrant, Hawke could forget for a moment about the fate of Kirkwall. She closed her eyes, absorbing the peace.

The crunch of gravel gave away Aveline's approach. "It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" she said.

"I feel like I've walked into a painting. And Lucian and his wife – Agata, right? – are lovely," said Hawke. The rogue looked over her shoulder and watched Lucian pour Fenris another glass of wine. The vintner was seated with Donnic and Fenris at a table in a copse of cypresses near the farmhouse. The four of them were engaged in light conversation, and even Fenris – grinning and leaning back in his chair – looked relaxed after his second glass of wine.

As if on cue, Lucian looked up from the table and spotted Hawke and Aveline. "Ladies! Why have you left us? Agata's just brought out dessert!" Lucian beckoned to the two women.

Hawke sat at the table as Agata appeared from the house carrying a tray of thin pasties drizzled with honey. "No thank you, Agata. I couldn't eat another bite. I'm still savouring the fig and basil sauce from the lamb."

"Nonsense!" said Agata as she forced a pastry onto Hawke's plate. "I don't care what Donnic has to say about your ability as a guard. You're far too small to properly guard anything. Honestly, what did they feed you in Kirkwall? I could snap you like a chicken." She tucked her wispy gray hair behind her ear and silently dared Hawke to protest further.

Donnic guffawed. His face was flushed with wine. "I wouldn't try it, aunt. She might be slight, but this woman here could best every man she's ever met."

Fenris smirked. "Not every man."

Hawke laughed and drank deeply out of her glass. "Is that a challenge?"

"It is. But don't worry; I'll go easy on you." He leaned toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. The look made something hot and heavy settle in the pit of Hawke's stomach.

"Relax, you two, before you have the chance to flatten any rows of trellises," laughed Aveline. "It would be a terrible waste to damage any grapes that produce such delicious wine."

Lucian clapped his calloused hands. "Ah! I'm delighted to hear you enjoy our wine. Ours is a small winery, but we take pride in our work."

Fenris relaxed in his seat, "Your pride is well placed, Lucian." He held the glass up toward the last rays of sunlight, contemplating the dusky red glow. He brought the glass to his lips. "You use Sangiovese grapes. The hints of cherry and earth give it away," Fenris sipped lightly. Hawke was transfixed on the sinuous motions of the muscles in his throat. "And the light finish of cedar. Judging from the full-bodied taste, you leave your grapes on the vine long into the season before harvesting them." The elf took another sip and closed his eyes. "You use oak barrels."

"I'm impressed, ser elf. You know quite a lot about wine," said Lucian.

Fenris smiled easily at his compliment, but Hawke caught the glint of something hard in his eyes. "An old master of mine once desired me to know about such things."

"How fortunate for you to have had such a fine teacher," said Agata said kindly. She didn't notice the sudden tenseness in her guests' postures or the death grip the elf now had on the arm of his chair. "It's a shame we haven't got more room here for you to stay at the vineyard. I hope you won't be too uncomfortable staying in the stable tonight. If we only had an extra room, we'd be happy to put you to work here were you could put your master's teachings to good use."

Aveline coughed uncomfortably. "So, H-Amell, what are planning on doing now that we're in Antiva? I can't leave the city without knowing you've got some sort of a plan."

Hawke chuckled for a moment, eager to steer the conversation away from accidental praise of Danarius before Fenris started flickering with lyrium. "Don't worry about me, Aveline. You know I always manage to magic a way to get by. I'll stay at the inn with my sister and this one," she nodded at Fenris, "at least until we come up with some work. Beth and I might have to channel our old mercenary days for a while. You know, those good times before our lives revolved around qunari, despotic Templars, and blood mages. Who knows… Maybe I'll find the work relaxing." Hawke winked.

"Ah yes," interjected Fenris, "a most dull career change: guardswoman to mercenary. Just be careful you don't make too many new enemies out here, Amell. The last thing we need is a murder of Crows after you."

Hawke looked pensive for a moment. "Hm, I don't know about that. It's been, what, a full two weeks since anyone has tried to kill us? All this peace is making us a bit too complacent for my liking. We could do with a near-death experience or two just to liven up the mood, don't you think?"

The elf rolled his eyes. "Mulier stulta."

"And what does that mean?" asked Hawke, amused.

"Nothing you don't already know."

"Bah, all this talk about death and adventure shows me that you city folk have lost touch with the things that are most important in life," said Lucian.

"Duty? Honour? Country?" suggested Aveline.

"No. Fine wine and a good night's sleep."

Agata swatted his arm.

"And family too, of course," he amended.

"To family!" toasted Donnic. He thrust his glass toward the darkening sky.

"To family," seconded the others. Fenris stared at Hawke as the wine slid down his throat. She stared back.

Night had fully fallen over the Antivan countryside. Hawke had disappeared in the moon-cast shadows of the vines and trellises. She fixed her eyes on Fenris as he emerged from the farmhouse carrying a thick blanket and walked down the hill toward her. Like a cat slinking in the dark, she clung to the shadows and prowled to the edge of the stable, ready to pounce. Tension and adrenaline coiled up inside her as he approached. Fenris tossed the unruly hair from his eyes, and Hawke's heart panged with yearning. The elf was desire incarnate. This had been too long in coming. When Fenris passed within a foot of Hawke, she sprang at him from the darkness. Instantly, his body lit up and his fists clenched, ready to attack.

Fenris was fast, but not fast enough. He saw a blur come from his peripheral vision, but before he could finish his strike, Hawke collided with his chest and slammed him against the wall of the stable.

"Venhedis!" snarled Fenris. He was furious and horrified. Before the moonlight and the flash of his markings revealed her face to him, he was going to treat his attacker like any other assailant: by killing it. "Do you have any idea how close I came to ripping your heart from your chest? I could have killed y-."

Hawke slammed her lips against his, burying his protests beneath a kiss. She didn't care that he was angry. They'd needed this for too long. They had only reconciled their romance a few short days before Kirkwall had flown apart at the seams, and they'd hardly been able to touch each other since. Last night was the first private night they'd had together, but Hawke had been so exhausted after the incident with the staves that it took everything she had just to make it to the tavern. She could scarcely move by the time she dropped herself on the bed. The passion behind her kiss was long overdue. She stood on her tip-toes and pressed her body flush against his, soaking up his heat. She opened her mouth against his and kneaded his lower lip with her teeth.

She pulled back an inch. "Relax, Fenris," she teased. "We both know you're not fast enough to block my attacks from stealth." Her breath was hot against his lips. She trailed kisses over his mouth, down his cheek, and across his jawline. Her hips rolled gently against his.

'Curséd woman,' thought Fenris. His heart raced in his chest with the residual fear of realizing he'd been miliseconds away from plunging his fist into Hawke's chest. But he couldn't make himself stay angry. Every tender brush of her lips against his skin ebbed the rage away, leaving relief and hunger in their wake. The rigidity melted from Fenris's muscles, and his arms closed around her waist. His leggings began to feel uncomfortably tight.

He felt her laugh breathily against rim of his ear. "Looks like I bested my challenger after all."

"Not a chance, Hawke," Fenris growled and pushed himself forward, toppling them both onto the grass and the blanket he'd dropped. He crushed her mouth beneath his and ran his tongue across her lip before forcing his way inside. She tasted of fruit and wine. He needed more. He snaked his hands down to her hips and began hastily undoing her belt. Hawke's clever fingers found their way to the buckles of his armor and released the clasps of his breast plate. He lifted his chest from hers just long enough to throw his body armor away before resuming his desperate assault on her mouth and clothes.

Finally both their shirts were lying on the ground, along with the cloth band that bound her breasts. Fenris sat up. He straddled her waist and stared down at her, getting drunk off of her with his eyes. He ran his hands across her body, tracing her collar bone, lingering on the swell of her breasts, the narrowing of her waist, and the curve of her hips. Her hair billowed out around her like silken waves. Like his lyrium markings, her skin glowed like alabaster in the moonlight. She was a vision of loveliness.

"Fenris, we should move into the stable."

"No, I need to be able to see you, Vivian. Please let us stay in the moonlight."

"You see me every day," she said quietly. She ran her fingers up and down his face.

"Not like this. It's been too long since I saw you like this. I couldn't bear not to see you tonight." He hooked his thumbs in her trousers and shimmied her out of them before moving atop her once more. "Let me show you how I have missed you."

He slowly kissed down her torso, licking and nipping as he went. Everything smelled of earth and fruit and Vivian. He stopped briefly to lave one of her nipples. Hawke moaned softly beneath his ministrations. He resumed his descent. When his searing trail reached the inside of her hip, Fenris shifted his body down and kissed the inside of her upper thigh. She tangled her fingers in his hair. She tried to guide his head back up to the point of her release, but the elf wouldn't be directed.

Fenris could feel her pulse racing beneath his lips as he raked his teeth gently up to her nether lips and smirked devilishly with her every moan.

"Fenris!" she gasped as he slid his tongue into her folds. He slammed his hands down on her hips, holding her against his mouth. Maker, she tasted like honey. Hawke began instinctually rocking her hips, but Fenris was determined to keep working her with his tongue. Her smell and taste intoxicated him, and she was dripping wet. Fenris felt himself pulsing with agonizing desire. He nipped at her bud with his teeth, and Vivian bucked so hard she nearly threw him off. She was beyond ready.

Fenris pulled himself up so that he was at eye-level with the woman beneath him. She clutched him to her, reveling in the feeling of his skin on hers. Her mouth found his again in another hot, open mouthed kiss.

"I can taste myself on your lips," she whispered.

"Now you know how incredible you taste."

He felt her body stiffen as the tip of his erection grazed her clit. She gasped in his ear and dug her nails into the flesh of his back. Fenris turned his head and kissed her, a soft, gentle brush of his lips on her jaw. Her nails dug a little deeper as he brushed his lips a little further her jawline until his breath tickled the sensitive skin below her ear. Fenris trailed his lips down her neck, kissing her more softly than he ever had in his life. He felt Vivian undulate her hips in a sinuous caress, sliding him along her silken cleft.

His lips danced down the tendons of her neck. As he sucked the junction between her neck and collarbone, his whole body moved forward. His lips rose back up her neck as he barely entered her.

Vivian arched along the entirety of her spine, exposing her neck to his lips.

"Fenris."

Fenris had no idea what he'd done to please the Maker so much to grant him such intimacy with the beautiful woman beneath him. He was locked in this moment where nothing in the world mattered but holding her in his arms and feeling their hearts beating as one.

And giving her pleasure.

He felt her hand on his face. She guided him to her lips before steering his hand to caress her breast. The softness of his touch made her moan. He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb with one hand and traced circles on the inside of her hip with the other. He felt her fingers run up and down his back and sides, tracing his markings. The lyrium flickered under her fingers, bringing him to the knife's edge between pleasure and pain. He shivered under her touch. Vivian writhed beneath him, bearing full witness to the passion overflowing within her. She wanted him inside her.

Fenris rocked his hips deeply against her. Vivian tossed her head back at the sudden shock of pleasure, breaking the kiss. Fenris was fully inside her. The warrior was nearly mad with pleasure, but his only desire was to make sure his lover felt the same.

"Oh Fenris," she breathed. He smiled against her lips and kissed her once more, elated with the pleasure in her voice.

"My Vivian." Fenris began slowing thrusting inside her. The woman moaned. He thrust again, slowly withdrawing then sliding back into the heat of her being until he was fully inside her. All the while, his thumb and finger teased her nipple. He longed to take it his mouth, but he couldn't bear for his lips to be parted from hers.

She arched her back and began rocking her hips against him to meet his trusts. "Please don't stop," she whispered against their kiss. She turned her head to the side and pulled his earlobe between her lips. She suckled on the lobe for a moment before slowly trailing her teeth up along the rim. Fenris growled low in his chest.

He once again trailed his lips across her neck, more forcefully this time. He used his teeth and tongue to draw more pleasure for her with his sinuous ministrations. He could feel his lover's breathing grow deeper and faster as he raked his canines across her vulnerable flesh, and she moaned as she rocked more urgently against him, seeking him, wanting more. Still, his thrusts were teasingly, painfully slow.

"Fuck, Fenris," she panted with her eyes clamped shut. "Please."

"As my lady commands."

His lips met hers once more, locking together in a fervent, amorous dance that mirrored the intensity of their love making. He began to match her pace.

Gone were the slow, tender thrusts. Gone were the teasing, tender caresses. His quickening thrusts were driven by hunger and intensity, by the need to bring Vivian to a pleasure she had never known and ravish her senseless. Strange voices and thoughts distorted like images seen through melted glass gathered at the corner of his mind. He remembered this eerie feeling from the first night he'd been with Vivian. This time, he kept them at bay in the recesses of his mind. Tonight was about him and Vivian, and all else be damned.

Vivian's movements grew as shaky and erratic as her breathing. She felt something coiling up tightly inside her. Fenris didn't let up or waver in his pace. He kept going, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside her with every thrust. He held her tightly against him, as if he were trying to merge himself with her into one being.

She broke their kiss as she came and buried her face in his neck to muffle her moans of ecstasy. Fenris crushed her to him. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Vivian in that moment. He could feel her squeezing him inside and he thrust and withdrew. Fenris could literally feel the spasms of her pleasure, and sheer intimacy made him groan. He was so close.

He could feel the intensity of the crescendo building within him. Suddenly, all the muscles throughout his body rigid, and he thrust himself as far inside her as he could.

"Vivian," Fenris moaned as he came deeply inside her.

She gasped, knowing he was experiencing the same pleasure she was. She clasped his hand and laced his fingers with hers. Pleasure surged through them both as they lay captured in each other's' arms, panting heavily in shared bliss.

They remained locked together, neither wanting to let the other go. Slowly, the tension of their bodies lessened, allowing them to lie comfortably together with the stars glittering overhead. Vivian still clutched his hand tightly, as if she were afraid he was about to disappear. Her squeezing fingers might as well have been wrapped around his heart. With an aching pang, he knew what was troubling her.

Fenris brought her small hand to his lips. "I will never leave you again. Never."