Dragon Age 2 - Indentured

Well this is a bit of a departure from my other stories. I always wondered if Hawke and Athenril did more than just work together. I wrote a bit of action at the beginning, so I hope you liked it. :) If you want to check out a not so common pairing on here, then this is for you. This story will be at LEAST two chapters and at MOST three. I'm limiting myself on purpose so I don't draw things out.

If you like this then please show that rating bar and review section some love. Hearing what people think, whether good or bad, really does help.

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Working for Athenril was certainly a lifestyle change for the eldest Hawke. His family wasn’t exactly wealthy in Lothering, but they lived comfortably enough until the Darkspawn razed the town. Constantly hiding from the Templars was an interesting challenge, but it didn't really compare to working for the smuggler.



Rival guilds, threats from the Coterie, and dangerous clientele made the job a challenge every time he ran one of the elf’s errands. Being a mage gave Athenril’s gang an advantage that the other’s lacked, and whatever threats were made during an exchange or shipment of illegal merchandise was quickly resolved by a show of his power.



Only three months in to his servitude, Hawke had seen more combat than his previous twenty five years of life. That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy it, the opportunity gave him the chance to hone his skills.



On this particular night, Hawke received a message from the elf to meet her in Darktown for an exchange of merchandise. She’s got into the habit of only bringing me along as backup, finding it far more cost effective to merely bring me along than a contingent of guards. However, there’s a slight problem: they’re late.



Hawke leaned against the wall, his arms crossed with a bore looked on his face while Athenril paced back and forth in front of him. The sun was almost entirely engulfed by the horizon, the torches providing most of the light.



Only some people remained out in the open, quickly moving between and around shaded areas where the torches don't cast their glow, of which there are many. Muggers and thugs often hide in these areas, hoping for easy prey amongst the poor sods who foolishly venture near. They’re either taking the night off, or giving Athenril and the imposing mage a wide berth. Hawke’s somewhat terrifying reputation had spread amongst the lower class within a month, so they all know to put distance between them when the mage makes an appearance.



Athenril sighed in annoyance and stopped pacing just long enough to scan the area with her eyes before looking at Hawke. “They’re late. They’re never late.”



“Indeed.” Hawke muttered, “Smugglers are surprisingly punctual. Are you sure you got the time right?”



Athenril nods in response, “Of course I did. It’s a big shipment. A dozen crates of lyrium sand, fetching a solid three hundred sovereigns easy, if we sell it to the right people. I wasn’t about to get the time wrong on that big of a score.”



Athenril stopped pacing again and looked around cautiously. “I don’t like this, Hawke.”



The moved closer together, and that’s when Hawke noticed it: Complete and utter silence.



“Shit!” Hawke barely had time to process the thought when the silence was suddenly broken by an arrow swishing just inches from his face and thudding into the wooden support beam where Athenril was just a moment before sidestepping it.



We both moved at once, the elf drawing her blades while Hawke grabbed his staff. He quickly swiped one end across the ground and a wall of ice shot up, cracking just a bit when several more arrows became imbedded within.



Suddenly, Darktown became anything but quiet as several men charged out of hiding and screamed their way toward us, brandishing their blades.



“If you have a plan for escape, now would be the right time, Athenril!” Hawke yelled at her.



With a quick chant and a flick of his wrist, a jet of water shot forth from his palm and hit the closest ambusher. The water instantly froze and encased him, his forward momentum sending him sprawling to the floor only to shatter from the impact. Watching their friend reduced to shards of ice and meat slowed them down just enough, and another chant sent forth a ball of flame from his fingertips, making the entire area shake violently when it exploded right in front of them. Those that weren't killed by the blast screamed as they were engulfed in magical fire that burned them alive.



Pain suddenly shot through Hawke’s body as a bolt hit him in the right shoulder. He took a quick look but it didn’t look serious enough to warrant an instant healing. More screaming indicated that ambushers were approaching from their flank.



“This way!” Athenril yelled, and he followed her lead as they ran over the broken and still burning bodies of the initial ambushers and quickly disappeared down a side alley. “We have a safehouse nearby! If we can lose them for just a minute then we can use it for tonight!”



But the ambushers weren't ready to give up the chase that easily. When two of them rounded the corner in the tight alley in front of the pair, Athenril made quick work of them, her daggers flashing through the air as a good throw buried them deeply within their chests. Without stopping for even a moment, she tore her blades out as she reached them and charged past.



Hot on her heels, and several ambushers not ten feet behind him, Hawke let out a blast of energy that sent the two dying ambushers soaring through the air to crash into their companions.



“This way!” Athenril yelled, and when they rounded the corner another ambusher with a bow surprised them. Another blast of water erupted from Hawke’s hand, and Athenril was close enough to feel the temperature drop quite suddenly when the arrow froze mid-flight along with the archer who fired it.



With a quick strike from both of her blades, Athenril shattered the archer before barreling through, Hawke still close behind her. As they ran up a short flight of stairs, she suddenly grabbed Hawke’s arm and pulled him into a narrow alley, walking down another flight of stairs before coming upon a very well hidden door. Within moments they were inside the safehouse with the door closed and bolted behind them.



After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Hawke chuckled and grinned at her. “Well, that was bracing. Do all of your contacts try to kill you?”



“It usually depends on the day,” Athenril replies, double checking to make sure the locks are secured on the door before turning to him, “Smuggling is a dangerous job, Hawke, and not only because of the authorities. Still, that was unexpected.”



The safehouse could best be described as a closet. There's just enough room for one bed, a fireplace, and about four steps of walking space. There’s no table or chair and it’s highly probable that whatever food might have been stored there has either rotted or been consumed by vermin.



The room is almost entirely bathed in darkness, being held back only by the light from the still-lit fireplace. The safehouse is built entirely of stone, with no windows to speak of.



“Wow,” Hawke looked around the room in disbelief, “I see you use the word ‘safehouse’ loosely. I’m fairly certain this one room violates several safety laws.”



Athenril sighed and smiled at him, “Yes, well this is what we're going to get. Now’s not the time to be picky.” She nods at him, indicating his shoulder. “How about we take care of that before it becomes more serious. Remove your shirt and sit down on the bed, we should have some emergency medical supplies somewhere around here.”



With the adrenalin high finally gone, the bolt in his shoulder is starting to hurt quite a bit. He can heal it if she gets the bolt out, but either way it’s going to hurt for a while. Knowing it’s better to just do as she says, he tosses his staff onto the bed and removes the top half of his garment within moments.



Hawke chooses to wear something more akin to clothing than armor, because anything more than that restricts his movement during spellcasting, and he doesn't have nearly enough money to buy an actual robe, so he uses what he can get.



“Ah! Here it is.” She pulls out a small metal box from beneath the bed and opens it up. Finding the things she needs, she looks up at Hawke, still on her knees, and pauses. Hawke is sitting on the bed right next to her, not really paying attention, his strong, muscled torso only slightly marred by his bloody shoulder.



Athenril has a strict policy against becoming sexually involved with people who work for her. She did it before and it ended very badly. However, that doesn't mean she is blind to the fact that her newest recruit is a very good looking man. He has a strong body built for combat, and a decent personality she finds herself drawn to.



They've spent a lot of time together over the last three months, always on one job or another, but during all of the waiting they’ve gotten to know each other. She’s been inviting only him along not only because of his skill, but because she genuinely enjoys his company.



On the other hand, Hawke is quite attracted to the elf. He enjoys her tough personality and no-nonsense attitude. He hasn't been with anyone since before The Blight, and spending all his time with an attractive elf, who just so happens to literally own him, is a constant reminder of how stressed he is.



In his previous life, constantly being paranoid about Templars and having to move so often created an incredible amount of stress for the eldest Hawke. He took to bed more than a few women in his travels, but hasn't had the chance to seek out such pleasure since coming to Kirkwall.



He briefly considered visiting The Blooming Rose for some entertainment, but he’s never paid for sex before and he's not about to start.



Hawke doesn't fail to notice her appreciative gaze as she gazed at his form, nor did he mind the attention. Still, his shoulder is getting more painful by the minute.



“Okay,” Hawke turns to look at her again and smiles, “Let’s get this thing out. The sooner I can heal it the better.”



Athenril, shaken out of her thoughts, tried not to look embarrassed as she worked on removing the bolt. A few times, Hawke would hiss in pain and her hand would wander to his chest to keep him still, her soft touch not unwelcome. It’s strange, when he first met her he never would have guessed she had a single gentle bone in her body, but she does.



It took some time, but Hawke let out a loud sigh of relief when the bolt was finally removed. Athenril tossed it aside and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.



“There, you should be able to heal yourself now.”



An odd look came over Hawke’s face and he raised his hand to grip hers, lowering it until her hand rested above the wound. She stood there in shock as he whispered a quick chant and a tingling, pleasant warmth flowed from his hand and engulfed hers before moving on to his wound. She felt it as the wound slowly closed and the blood became absorbed by the magic.



Within moments, it’s like the wound was never there in the first place. The healing magic left a warmth that quickly spread throughout her body even when the magic was finished. She'd been healed by magic before, but whatever he had done was different. The warmth made her entire body sensitive, and when Hawke reached up and pulled her lips down to meet his, she couldn’t hide her gasp of approval even if she wanted to.



The kiss was hard, passionate, and lustful. Both of them had been without a bedmate for some time, Athenril for longer than she’d ever admit, so it felt perfectly natural for her to straddle him, immensely enjoying the sound he makes when she grinds her hips against the bulge in his pants.



Hawke, meanwhile, keeps tight control over his lust even as he takes everything he can get from the elf in his arms. He groans each time she grinds against him, and she shudders in response to the same stimulation. Wanting her armor off as soon as possible, he starts deftly removing each piece until only her shirt and pants remain. With better access now, his hands slide up her back inside of her shirt, touching her soft skin.



Athenril gasps in response and pulls her lips off his to gaze intensely into his eyes. He returns the look, and boldly slides both hands down her body and inside her pants, gripping her firm ass in his hands. Using his grip, he grinds himself against her, rubbing against her neglected center which currently burned with the desire to be filled.



“Oh holy Creator that feels-Ah!” Her words are abruptly cut short when he grinds against her in just such a way that brushes quite roughly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.



Her entire body is flushed with arousal, and she sees something passionate, primal in his eyes when she cries out in pleasure. His boldness only arouses her further, reminding her of the fact that even her past lovers weren’t quite so bold in bed. She might not be as dangerous as some of the other smugglers, but men are intimidated by her.



And here’s Hawke, someone she actually owns for the next several months, and he’s absolutely shameless in his desire for her. When his hands move from her ass to her shirt and insistently pull it up, she raises her arms until he pulls it off and throws it aside, leaving her naked from the waist up.



Again, he doesn't hide the fact that he’s taking in the sights. She’s slender, like most of her race, with a few scars here and there but nothing serious. Her apple-sized breasts are capped by brown, small nipples that look good enough to suck on, and her stomach is flat and smooth, but when he touches it he can feel the muscles beneath it.



Athenril enjoys the look he is giving her, as if he wants to lay her down and take her as hard as he can. For a woman who is usually so in control, she doesn't hate that idea at all. It almost surprised her how much she desired it, needed it even. She wants the entire world to disappear, even if only for a short time, so she can just enjoy being ravaged by the dangerous man in her arms.



“Hawke.” She called out his name, and he looked into her eyes again, “Tell me what you want.”



Hawke is no idiot, he can see the look in her eyes, a very familiar look that he has encountered throughout the years. He's met a lot of women in positions of power who, at some point, just want to lose control for a while. The rival guilds have been killing everyone, and Athenril’s guild is one of the few that remain.



It’s earned her no small amount of respect, and having a mage in her employ hasn’t hurt either. She’s one of the only elf leaders amongst the guilds, which also means she has to be better than everyone else simply because they’ll assume she’s weak. She has to remain tough at all times, and serve as an example to the people who work for her.



But right now, she isn’t a leader. Right now she’s a very aroused elf who wants to forget about everything else for a while. Hawke can certainly understand that, so he tells her what he knows she wants to hear.



“I want to bend you over this bed and fuck you until you can’t think straight. I want you to watch me as I take you over and over again. I want you to come all over my human cock and beg for more. But most of all, I want to own you tonight.”



Athenril’s arousal spiked with each word, and her entire body shuddered when the thought of being his for an entire night flashed through her mind.



“Then tell me what to do...” Athenril muttered, surprising Hawke with her willingness to let him have all the control for tonight. But he sure as hell wasn't going to waste the opportunity to have his way with the elf.



“Take off the rest of your clothing and then get on your knees.”