Chapter Text
The Grey Warden stayed for the coronation, smiling as Queen Margot stood beside her bride before all of Denerim. The city was burned and broken, but it would rebuild. Ferelden would rebuild. The Blight was over and the darkspawn were gone. Ruined buildings seemed small in comparison. It would be okay again. But the Grey Warden wasn’t going to stick around and watch the city re-gather itself.
When the coronation concluded, Margot and Alana were sharing a quiet moment in their bedchambers. The Grey Warden’s knock was a light tap.
“Katz,” Alana said, letting the Grey Warden through with a pleased smile.
“You look good in a crown,” Katz said with a smirk.
“You look good clean,” Alana remarked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so clean, in fact.”
“Believe it or not, I do enjoy bathing. When I’m not too busy saving the world.”
“Naturally.”
Margot, who had sauntered to the dresser, returned with three goblets balanced in her hands. She handed one to Katz and one to Alana, and they clinked their goblets in a cheers.
They sipped in silence, and then Katz looked up from her wine. “I wanted to say goodbye before I left for Weisshaupt.”
Alana shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here a while longer? Take more baths?”
“The Ferelden Grey Wardens aren’t going to rebuild themselves,” Katz muttered. “And it’s not as if I have anyone to help me.” The women exchanged knowing looks, and then Katz smiled. “I’ll come back when the baby is born.”
Alana held her hand to her stomach and Margot glowed. But then a darker mood fell upon them, and Alana asked quietly, “Still no word from Will or Hannibal?”
Katz sighed, smoothing her hand over the thick, clean hair she had only, that very morning, been able to pull back into a ponytail. “Nothing. No one has seen them since Will brought down the archdemon.”
“And the phylactery?” Alana asked.
“I checked the Denerim Chantry, where all the phylacteries are supposed to be sent, but Will’s wasn’t there. We can’t track him. He’s just…gone.”
They finished their wine and said their goodbyes, wondering, always wondering, what had happened to Will and his templar.
--
Will crushed the glass beneath his boot and a puff of crimson smoke floated through the air before it dissipated.
“I can’t believe you had it the whole time.”
Hannibal stood behind Will, his arms wrapped around his chest and his chin leaned atop Will’s shoulder. They admired the broken phylactery beneath Will’s boot. Hannibal squeezed Will tighter against his chest and pressed a kiss to his neck.
“You believed I would let the First Enchanter deliver your beautiful blood into the hands of the Chantry?” Hannibal asked, biting teasingly at Will’s skin.
Will turned in his demon’s arms.
They were camped out in a Western Orlesian cave, and a rainstorm pounded away outside. A roll of thunder sent Will further into Hannibal’s arms, and he tipped his head to look into his eyes.
“They can never find us now, you know,” Will said, rubbing his hands down Hannibal’s chest. They were both shirtless. The air was warm and fresh and the fire Will had lit cast a brilliant, crackling light throughout the cozy cave. He admired their joined shadows on the wall.
“Not unless we wish to be found,” said Hannibal.
Will smiled, because he could feel his demon’s wishes and urges in his own mind before they were spoken aloud, and he knew exactly what Hannibal wanted. And he wanted it, too.
“I don’t want anyone to find us,” Will whispered, canting his hips toward Hannibal’s hips. “You know what I want.”
A low growl sounded deep in Hannibal’s chest and his hands slipped around Will’s back to grab his ass. “Yes.”
“Mmm,” Will sighed, finally happy, finally safe. It was enough to throw back his head with a laugh. “I want you,” he said, gasping when his demon scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder.
“I’m yours,” Hannibal answered, landing a hard slap against Will’s ass cheek before he set him gently down on their shared bedroll. “My sweet, beautiful boy,” he whispered, reverently stroking a hand down Will’s smooth chest.
Will pulled him down, and Hannibal swiftly removed their boots and trousers, the last of the barriers between them, and then he pressed his hot skin against Will. They breathed in together, and exhaled. And Hannibal moved in, kissing Will like it was the end of the world all over again. Only it wasn’t. Will smiled into the kiss. They had forever, if they wanted it.
Of course, Will had been wanting it forever, and now that it was near enough to taste, he chased it zealously. His thighs parted and his fingers raked down Hannibal’s back, and he whimpered in his demon’s ear, knowing he’d never be refused, “Please, Hannibal. Please.”
Hannibal’s fingers pressed against Will’s lips until they parted to let him in. Will sucked on the digits with a groan, lapping at the long fingers and bucking up against Hannibal’s erection that was throbbing and hot and sliding against the V of Will’s groin. Unlike the time they’d shared in the Fade, the instant slickness wasn’t there, but Will didn’t mind, not when it meant he got to feel Hannibal’s fingers pushing gently over his entrance.
“Shhh,” Hannibal whispered as he circled Will’s delicate hole. “Relax.” His fingers were damp and hot and Will shivered as they rubbed against him, circling his ring of puckered muscle before pressing against it. Hannibal repeated the motion until Will began to relax into the rhythm, and then he pushed one finger all the way in. Will gasped at the entry and Hannibal swallowed the sound with a kiss.
“So good,” Hannibal sighed against Will’s lips before kissing him again, deeper and more insistently, his tongue matching his finger, slowly exploring.
Will moaned, a trembling mess beneath his demon, and he spread his legs wider, in invitation. “More,” he pleaded, and Hannibal obliged, pulling out his single finger and returning with two. Will stretched his neck and Hannibal kissed it, sucking bruises over the tender flesh as his fingers worked in and out of Will’s hole, carefully but deliberately stretching him open.
Will’s words weren’t words, but broken cries as he began pushing down to meet Hannibal’s pumping fingers. His demon’s breath was hot against his neck, and when he felt the scrape of teeth against his skin, he dug his fingernails into Hannibal’s back, scratching down his spine. When Hannibal’s teeth bit into his neck, Will cried aloud and sank his fingers into the flesh of Hannibal’s ass.
“Hannibal,” he begged, and Hannibal’s fingers slipped out of him, leaving Will open and desperate.
Hannibal settled back on his heels, his beautiful shadow veiling Will’s trembling, waiting body. He just stared down at Will for a moment, his hair falling, soft and silvery-blond over his forehead, shimmering as it caught the light of the fire. Will pushed up his hips and moaned, a needy little sound, urging his demon for more. Please. Now.
And Hannibal could never deny him. Will watched as he leaned over to dig into his discarded pack by the bedroll, pulling out a small vial of ointment. Hannibal’s grin was lecherous and perfect as he fingered a drop of lubricant into the palm of his hand and gripped the base of his cock. Will’s body thrilled, staring as Hannibal coated his length in the shiny oil. And then he lowered himself down, slotting between Will’s soft, parted thighs. His slick cockhead lazily rubbed over Will’s entrance as he peppered kisses across Will’s jaw, and then, pulling a gasp from them both, Hannibal pushed.
Will was tight, and the entry was slow, but Hannibal sank inside until he was buried deep, all the way. His demon bent down, pressing their foreheads together, and waited. Will could feel every pulse of Hannibal as his walls stretched to accommodate him. He was thick and heavy, and when he finally bottomed out, Will arched his back and pulled him closer, trying to take more. The moment felt raw, more intense than it had in the Fade. Outside of the cave, Will could hear the rain. He closed his eyes and listened. Just rain. And Hannibal’s steady breath. And then the subtle sound of skin against skin as Hannibal began a slow pace, in and out of Will, rocking them together.
Hidden away, where no Towers or Wardens or Darkspawn could find them, Will moaned, spread beneath his demon, arms wrapped tight around his broad, muscular back. He hooked his ankles and moved his hips and gasped in Hannibal’s ear to fuck him harder, make him feel it. And as always, his demon sought only to make Will happy.
Hannibal set into him, sinking so deep, Will felt the bedroll inch forward with every thrust. Will buried his face in Hannibal’s shoulder, unable to stop the smile from spreading wide across his face, not wanting or needing to hide his pleasured blush. His hands traced up his demon’s back to feel his silken hair run through his fingers, and Hannibal gazed down at him with eyes so black, Will could see himself reflected there. He hardly recognized himself. He didn’t look scared and timid and tired with the weight of the world. He looked happy.
He was finally free.
Will pulled Hannibal down for another kiss, because he was Will’s to kiss, whenever he wanted.
The End.