Work Text:
At first he just watches her. The way she idly tucks her hair behind a pointed ear, slim nimble fingers catching ash coloured locks that threaten to overtake her face. She’s a vision, though Cole is unfamiliar with attraction, he’s fascinated by her. He just watches her, observes her, wants to know her in every way, shape, and form. He wants to learn from her.
Some days he watches her in her room. She’s doesn’t mind. She’s rubbing on salve to ease sore muscles. “An ancient elven tincture,” she tells him. Her skin is shiny with the balm, like the moonlights reflection on a calm lake. Her face shows relief and she feels happy.
They go for walks sometimes. She tells him about being a child, growing up with the Dalish, the first time she fell in love, the first time she had her heart broken. He watches her face fall with the memory. He can hear the things she’s not saying too, the hurts she’s got buried deep inside. He wants to dig them out, set them free.
She’s kind. She helps people in ways he can’t. She brings them food, poultices, anything she can do, she does. He likes when she helps people.
She laughs and jokes and smile. Her eyes crinkle at the sides, her cheeks rise, her lips stretch. She calms those around her, a way about her that makes people happy. They adore her and he knows it, feels it. He thinks that if he understood better, he might adore her too.
When she cries he almost wishes he could too. The weight on her shoulders has become too much and her slight form is crumbling beneath it. He tries to help, he always tries to help. Some hurts can’t be fixed. He knows this because she tells him so.
Her eyes are wet, cheeks red. She’s sobbing so hard that her small body shakes as she struggles to breathe. She grows quiet and he thinks that it’s over. But the silence is the calm before the storm and she’s crying harder than before. He’s there, just there, sitting beside her on the bed.
“Hawke…” she whispers. Her voice is raspy, almost unrecognizable as her. Her lip trembles, a dam on the verge of breaking. She’s lying motionless on the unmade bed. She feels so much and he’s not sure how to help.
He just wants her to stop. He feels her pain like a knife in his side, sharp, stabbing, cold. He curls around her, shielding her from the world. She’s holding his hand, fingers cold between his. She turns in his embrace and her face is close, so close. He can smell her, fresh soap and elfroot. Her body is warm, she’s stopped crying now.
When he presses his mouth to her’s it feels strange. Her lips are soft and warm like honey. She pulls him flush against her, losing herself in him. For a moment he can’t hear her, only himself, loud buzzing, his body vibrating. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Now her hands are in his hair, the tips of her fingers brushing lightly against his scalp.
She’s pulling his face closer, her tongue against his lips, searching for entrance. He grants it to her, a tug in his stomach. She massages his tongue with her’s and he feels her make a sound in his mouth. He thinks he’s done something wrong, but she does it again. And it’s a happy sound, a happy thought. One of peace and pleasure.
His nerves are tingling, flames licking the surface. The sensations are new and he’s reveling in them, learning them. He wants to know her.
She stills, retreating as she looks into his eyes. She asks if this is okay. He nods, unblinking ice blue eyes. He feels her anxiety, shame for taking what she desperately wants. But he’s giving himself to her freely and he feels her body relax when he kisses her again. Slow, patient, deep.
Her chest rises and falls against him with heavy breaths. His skin is hot, prickling, fire stoked inside him, heat moving outward. She wants him, wants to be near him. He feels unknown ache between his legs, he’s fighting to breathe, his clothes too tight.
He wants to see her, tugs at her tunic until she pulls back to remove it. Her skin is soft like silk, trembles under his touch. He runs his hand down her exposed skin, cupping her breast as his thumb grazes over the hardened flesh at the peak. That spot, she likes that spot. He does it again and she moans in response, pushing harder up against him. The ache in between his legs grows.
Their clothes are gone now, long forgotten beside the bed. They’re wrapped around each other, his thigh nudges between her legs. Moisture gathers there as he presses against her, she moves against him in a way that makes her gasp. She tells him that she needs him, her voice is urgent, deep. He’s never felt need before, but he imagines this is what it feels like.
He looks in her eyes when he hovers over her. She feels desire, excitement, she wants him to make her whole. He’s afraid he’ll hurt her. She strokes his hair, tells him he won’t. She kisses him again. He pushes inside her, she’s hot and slick. He feels himself make a sound, she does too. Their bodies come together perfectly, he thinks this might have been meant to happen all along. He’s all the way inside her, they’re one. He moves his hips slowly, sinking himself into her over and over.
She’s writhing, her body is shaking. Her thoughts are a jumble he can’t decipher. Her hand goes between them, she’s rubbing herself. He watches as he continues to thrust himself inside her. She’s close, very close. She cries out as her body shudders beneath him.
He feels tension in his stomach. Pleasure laps at him like waves on the shore. He’s never felt this before. Her body is still trembling, her walls draw in around him, short pulses pulling him closer to the edge. He can’t see straight. The tension builds until he feels heat emanating from himself as his body releases into her.
It’s hard to breathe. He lies down next to her and she rolls over, holds him against her. He presses a kiss to her forehead. She’s smiling now, hurts forgotten. He’s learning.