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With a final blast of lightning from Lydia’s staff, the Arishok fell to the ground. She stood over him, shoulders squared, and Anders let out the breath he had been holding. She was going to be fine. They were all going to be fine. With his dying breath, the Arishok threatened that his people would return, but Lydia did not seem to care. She simply shot a threatening look at his guard, and they fled from the room as she loped down the stairs to stand at Anders’s side. Her hand found his, and he squeezed it. There was no time for words as Knight-Commander Meredith stormed into the room with a dozen templars and First Enchanter Orsino at her heels.
“Is it over?” she demanded.
Lydia did not waver. She had killed the Arishok--she could kill Meredith, too. Anders half-hoped she would. “It’s over,” she said.
The Hightown residents who had been held hostage in the room cheered, but Meredith only sneered at Lydia, and it took a great deal of self control to stop Anders from stepping between them. He very nearly did as she raised her sword, but he relaxed as she simply put it away. With cold blue eyes fixed on Lydia, she said, “It appears Kirkwall has a new Champion.”
Cheers rose again, but Lydia looked over at Anders and he could see plainly that she heard the note of irony in Meredith’s voice. The threat behind her words. If she had not saved the city, they would both be on their way to the Gallows right now; that much was clear.
As Meredith turned away, Lydia stuck out her tongue at the Knight-Commander’s back. “Bitch,” she muttered just loudly enough for Anders alone to hear her. As Kirkwall’s nobility crowded around them, Lydia started walking toward the door. Isabela, Varric and Aveline helped keep the crowd back while Anders remained at her side in case the adrenaline wore off.
“We’ll handle this, Blondie,” Varric said. “Get her home.”
Lydia kept her chin high until they left the keep. At the sight of the steps, her resolve seemed to waver. “I can carry you,” Anders offered, but she waved him off.
“We’re halfway home already,” she said, but she did accept his arm. She was limping slightly by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, but she made it across the plaza to the estate’s front door before she collapsed into Anders’s arms. As Bodahn opened the door, Anders scooped her up and carried her inside, somewhat surprised that she no longer had any qualms against being carried.
Bodahn followed them up the stairs. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“I’ll be fine, Bodahn,” Lydia said. “Just need a nice long bath and I’ll be good as new.”
“But the Qunari--”
“They won’t be bothering Kirkwall anymore. The Arishok is dead,” Lydia said.
Anders raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like her to be this modest. “She killed him in single combat,” he told Bodahn.
“Well done, my lady,” Bodahn said. He followed them to the bathroom door, though he turned back toward the stairs as Anders nudged it shut with his elbow. Once they were alone, he helped Lydia out of her robes, wincing at the sight of her injuries. He certainly had his work cut out for him, but it still wouldn’t be enough to repay her for what she had managed to do.
Lydia sighed contentedly and settled into the tub as Anders drew a bath for her. “You’ll join me, I hope?” she said.
He nodded, and as he undressed, Lydia launched into a frantic rant. “I’m going to kill Aveline,” she said.
“I’m sorry, you’re what now?” Anders asked as he shrugged off his coat.
“First Mother, now this. It was her fault for coddling her guardsmen. That’s why the Arishok attacked us--that’s why he set the city on fire. She knew and she did nothing . And then she got mad at me for taking his side, and I swear to you, as soon as I can walk properly again, I’m going to kill her,” Lydia hissed.
Anders tugged off his boots. “I’m a little bit lost here. What did Aveline know?”
“She had the reports and she ignored them! It’s no wonder those boys ran off to join the Qun. They certainly weren’t going to get any justice from Kirkwall’s finest. I am going to shoot a lightning bolt right at her smug face, and you are not allowed to stop me,” Lydia said. She scrubbed at the dried blood on her forearms with such intensity that the wounds underneath reopened. Anders had hoped that most of the blood had come from other people, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Cursing under his breath, he climbed into the tub beside her and began closing the wounds, but she yanked her arm away from him.
“You’re not listening!” she shouted. “Hey, Justice, can you shove Anders out of the way for a minute? I could use your help kicking Aveline’s ass.”
“You’re not going to be kicking anyone’s ass if you don’t let me heal you,” Anders snapped, and he could hear an echo of Justice’s voice in his own.
Lydia looked taken aback. “Okay, sorry. I should’ve realized he could hear me already. Go ahead, fix me up.” She extended her arm again and the lacerations drew closed as Anders passed a hand over them.
“So what, exactly, did Aveline do?” he asked. “Not that I’m on her side or anything. I just want to know what happened.”
Lydia drew a sharp breath through her teeth as Anders moved to her ribs. All of them were bruised, and at least two were broken. “Those fugitives she wanted released to her custody killed a guard. He had raped their sister, and even though they reported it, Aveline did nothing. So they did what any reasonable sibling would do. It’s certainly what I would have done for Bethany. What I hope Carver would do for me. Aveline was, of course, furious when I took their side.”
“Fuck Aveline,” Anders said. “She’s been using you for years to do the dangerous jobs so her guards can put their feet up. I don’t know why you’ve put up with her this whole time.”
Lydia snorted. “Because I don’t have a choice. If I do her dirty work, she looks the other way instead of sending you, me, and Merrill straight to Meredith.”
“I understand, and it’s not that I’m not grateful, but I wish you didn’t have to put your life at risk to keep us free,” he said. Gently, he helped her lean forward and examined her back. More bruises, and a cut deep enough that it had gone through muscle. She didn’t flinch as he closed it, but her fingernails dug into his thigh as magic wove the layers of tissue back together. As the skin closed without even a trace of a scar, he pressed his lips to where the wound had been. “I can’t believe you walked out of there.”
“I wasn’t about to fall on my face in front of Hightown. I wouldn’t be able to ask the neighbors for a cup of flour ever again,” she said. Sighing contentedly, she leaned back against his chest and stretched her legs out. “It sure is nice to come home to the best healer in Kirkwall. Thanks for patching me up.”
“It’s the very least I can do.” He kissed her shoulder. “You saved the city tonight, and once I’ve finished tending to your wounds, I plan on rewarding you for your reckless act of heroism.”
Lydia tilted her head back to reveal a wicked grin. “I think you missed one between my legs.”
“Did I now?” Anders returned her smirk with one of his own as he slipped a hand between her thighs. He brushed his thumb gently over her clit. “There, all better.”
Lydia swatted his arm playfully. “You can’t tease me like that. I saved the city!”
“If you insist.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck as he ran his hand along her slit, this time using more pressure as he dragged his fingers over her clit before running them up to her breast. Still playing with her nipple, he said, “Now. Let me finish with your injuries. I’d hate for you to get an infection because I wasn’t thorough enough.”
Lydia pouted, though he knew her well enough to tell that she wasn’t serious about it. “As long as you’re just as thorough in bed tonight.”
“I intend to be,” he said, kissing up her neck to her cheek. “I’m going to keep my head between your legs until I can’t move my tongue anymore.”
She turned then, and moved to straddle his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her face was flushed from arousal and the heat of the bath and her hands tangled in his hair as she kissed him, her quick-witted tongue just as skilled at exploring his mouth as it was at diffusing tense situations. As he ran his hands along her thighs, cuts and bruises returned to unblemished skin, and she sighed into his mouth as magic seeped into the last of her wounds. Her toes curled against the small of his back, and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her even closer as his other hand cupped her face.
Breathless, Anders pulled back from the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “I never should have doubted you for a moment, but there were so many times tonight when I was terrified I was going to lose you. I’m just happy we’re home now--that you’re safe.”
She gave a tired sort of laugh in response and she reached for the sponge again, though Anders grabbed it first. As he washed her back, she said, “That’s me. Always saving the day.”
He kissed her temple. “And we’re very lucky to have you.”
“You’re the luckiest of all,” she said. “You’re the one who gets to fuck me whenever you want.”
He smiled and shook his head. Of course that was how she would put it, with that teasing sort of irony to mask her self-deprecation. As much as he enjoyed sharing her bed, there was far more to it than that. He had never seen her with her hair down before moving in with her, had never seen her smile in her sleep. She had always been Hawke, the fearless leader, unshakable and closed off. It had almost sent him into shock the first time he had seen her cry. He would never deny how much he enjoyed seeing her naked, but in the three years he had known Lydia, she had always hidden her true feelings behind humor. He knew what a privilege it was to see her vulnerable. It was one thing--and a very satisfying thing at that--to get her off, but it was something else entirely to hear tenderness in her voice as she told stories of her life in Ferelden. Stories that usually ended with a short laugh and a lapse into her usual wry tone as she admitted that she had never told anyone about that before.
Passing the sponge to Lydia, he set to work washing her matted hair. It was so stiff with blood, that even when he undid the tie, it stayed roughly in place. She sighed and paused in her efforts to clean his chest as he massaged her scalp. By the time they had finished, the water would have been ice cold if not for the combined efforts of their magic. Lydia pulled the plug and stepped out of the tub, offering a hand to Anders before she wrapped a towel around herself. She darted from the bathroom, and by the time Anders managed to find a towel of his own to follow her down the hall to their bedroom, she had already started a fire in the hearth.
Lydia let her towel fall to the floor when she saw Anders, and he tangled his fingers in her wet hair as he kissed her. While the rest of Hightown was likely toasting their hero, he was the one with the honor of rewarding her for services rendered. She put her arms around his neck, and his hands stroked her back, pausing to squeeze her ass before he lifted her thighs to help her wrap her legs around his waist. Still kissing her, he carried her to the bed.
As soon as he set her down, she scooted back to rest against the pillows with her legs spread apart. Her hand worked through the tangle of hair at the apex of her thighs. As she slipped two fingers into herself, Anders laughed, shaking his head. “You really are impatient tonight, aren’t you?”
Her lips twitched. “I am currently the hottest commodity in Kirkwall. I think I owe a little thanks to myself.”
“Or,” he said, climbing onto the bed beside her and reaching for her hand, “you could just take the win and let me do all the work.”
Gently, he coaxed her hand away, and she slipped her wet fingers into his mouth as he picked up where she had left off. She whimpered slightly as his fingers slipped inside her, and she withdrew her hand to cup his chin, pulling him down for a kiss. Her breath caught as he pushed his fingers up, then drew them slowly back to drag them up her slit. He feathered them over her clit before withdrawing, and she broke away from the kiss.
“You’re still teasing me,” she said.
“Very demanding tonight, aren’t you?” he said affectionately, catching her hand before she could sneak back in. Her fingers laced between his.
“I think I’ve earned the right to be demanding,” she said, though her tone was warm.
He placed the fingers he had used to pleasure her on her lips, and she took them into her mouth as he kissed down her neck. Her free hand moved to cup one breast, so he turned his attention to the other. He could feel her nipple stiffen as he dragged his tongue lazily over it. With a small sound of exasperation, she shifted beneath him, and Anders took the hint to move on, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her belly.
The sheets were damp where Anders settled between Lydia’s legs, and he lapped eagerly at her wetness, dipping his tongue inside her as she locked her ankles against his back to hold him in place. With one hand still clutching hers, he wrapped his other arm around her thigh and set to work stroking his tongue up and down her slit, always stopping just short of where she so clearly wanted him.
Mere hours ago, Lydia Hawke had stood unflinching before an opponent more than twice her size, but now it seemed as though she might melt into the bed. Her body began to tremble with each stroke of his tongue, and at last, he gave in to her demands, taking her clit between his lips. He sucked on it gently for a moment before setting his tongue against it, each stroke quicker and sharper than the last until her hips rose from the mattress and she gave a shuddering whimper as the orgasm swept over her. Lydia’s hand clutched at his, fingernails digging into his skin. Her other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer until he could feel her pulsing against his chin. He hoped she could feel him smile against her skin. Sure, he had teased her all the way to the edge, but now that he had tipped her past it, he had no intention of letting her back from it until she asked him to stop.
Still flicking his tongue against Lydia’s clit, Anders let go of her thigh and adjusted his position slightly so he could slip two fingers inside her. A few well-timed strokes, and he felt her shudder again, her heels digging into his back as she pulsed around his fingers. She clutched at his hair, attempting to pull him closer still. It was the only way she could express her need for a third time--and then a fourth time--with her breath caught up in short, aching moans.
As he alternated between licking and sucking at her clit, he added a third finger, and moved his hand more intently than before. Her thighs shook so violently that her ankles came uncrossed, falling from his back to the bed beside him. Her hand relaxed its grip on his hair and he heard it flop against the mattress, though her other hand remained firmly in his. As she cried out weakly, he slowed his efforts, though he continued to stroke his tongue slowly over her clit until the orgasm subsided. As he withdrew his fingers, he looked up to see her chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. He rested his chin in the tangle of hair on her mound and licked her wetness from his fingers, still reveling in the taste of her as he watched Lydia slowly come back to herself. As her breaths evened out, she reached for his other hand, and he crawled up until he had her pinned beneath him, both hands above her head.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, drawing them open to slip his tongue into her mouth, brushing it against hers. As he kissed her, he extracted a hand from her grip to stroke her hair, gently pulling loose strands away from her mouth as he brushed her cheek with his thumb. Lydia turned her head away, breaking the kiss to catch her breath again. She was still panting as she said, “I should battle to the death with leaders of invading forces more often.”
He laughed as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’d rather you didn’t, love. Your birthday is coming up soon enough, and I’d much rather celebrate that than worry I might lose you forever.”
Smiling, Lydia used what remained of her strength to roll him onto his back and she settled against his chest, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “I suppose I can settle for birthday sex. Doesn’t have quite the same ring as ‘saved the city sex,’ but I’ll take it.”
Kissing the top of her head, kicked the covers up until he could reach them. With a contented sigh, Lydia slipped off his chest and onto her side, and he dragged the covers over them, holding her close. Her grey eyes were bright and her cheeks still flushed with arousal, but she yawned as she snuggled against him. He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, Lydia.”
“It’s easy to love a hero,” she teased, looking up at him through her lashes as her eyelids drooped. “But I love you, too.”
“Even before that,” he insisted. “I’d still love you even if you hadn’t saved the city tonight. As proud as I am, mostly I’m just relieved that you’re here with me instead of on a pyre with Viscount Dumar.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead and kissed it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be fine, I think. Keep helping people at your clinic, keep freeing mages from the Gallows and putting pressure on the Grand Cleric to do something about it.” She smiled sleepily before burying her face in his neck again. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad I’m here, too. I’d be pissed if I only got a month with you after dragging my feet for three years.”
He wanted to reply, but it caught in his throat, and Lydia’s breath against his neck grew slow and even as the exhaustion finally caught up with her. Pressing one last kiss to the top of her head, he held her tighter and closed his eyes.