She walked the streets of Kirkwall most of the night. She couldn't go home, but didn't know where else to go. The Deep Roads were behind her. Mission successful, with the exception of getting trapped by Varrics brother. Her, Varric, Anders, and Carver found their way out two weeks later, and found an unbelievable amount of treasure. None of it was worth the price however.

Carver fell victim to the taint. She had to mercy kill her own brother four days ago. She has been in a daze ever since, not hearing Varric or Anders when they tried to cheer her up about her incoming fortune.

They parted ways when they returned to the city, all agreeing to keep a low profile until Varric could find out what his brother Bartrand was up to.

But she couldn't go home. Going home would mean facing her mother and then having to tell her about her only son being dead. Admitting that she was now responsible for the death of both her siblings. She couldn't go home; she didn't have the strength.

She found herself on the steps of the Chantry. She was never very religious, but in the deep thoughts she was in, she wasn't sure what she was doing. She collapsed on the stairs and cried softly, not knowing what else to do.

He saw her as he left the mansion. Even with his keen elf vision he strained his eyes to make sure it was her. He didn't know she was back from the Deep Roads. She looked skinnier, a bit unhealthy, very dirty, and completely lost.

Fenris walked over to her, making his footsteps noisier than usual so he wouldn't startle her. She didn't even look up, and for a moment he hesitated, wondering if it was not who he thought it was.

"Hawke?" he questioned softly.

She looked up at him and he could see she had been crying. He knelt down in front of her. "Are you hurt," he asked. She shook her head but no response came. He extended his hand to her. "Come," he said sternly.

She looked at his hand and then at him confused. They had been close in the past, closer than any of her other companions, and she knew how he felt about being touched. "It's okay," he reassured her. "Let's get you inside."

She took his hand without saying a word and let him lead her to the mansion. She followed him upstairs in silence, not really knowing what she was doing there, still lost in thought. He's a friend, I trust him she thought, but images of her brother dying in her arms kept creeping back into her mind, and she was lost again.

He led her to her usual chair by the fireplace and helped her sit. She still hadn't said a word to him and his concern for her grew. She was a mess, nothing like the person he knew who always took pride in her appearance no matter what she was doing. Her daggers strapped to her back were covered in dark brown, and her small knife at her side was stained as well. Clothes were torn, hair matted but pulled back, lost strands sprayed out across her face and neck.

Before the trip she made him promise she could take a bath when she returned, and he offered it to her now. "Shall I make a bath for you," he asked hesitantly, hoping for any response.

She stopped staring at the floor for a moment and looked at him when he spoke. Yes, she thought, a bath may help clean this filth from my body and soul. She opened her mouth to speak, and while nodding hoarsely said "thank you."

"I shall be done shortly," he said turning away from her. "If you are hungry there is food on the table. You look like you have not eaten for four weeks."

He hoped to get some response from her, but she was already staring back at the floor. His concern continued to grow as he prepared her bath and she didn't move to eat or speak another word.

When the bath was prepared, he reached out his hand to her again and helped her stand. She was quite off balance and he grabbed her waist with his other arm and held her up. "Lean on me," he said assuring her as he tightened his grip on her to get her to move. She could barely feel her legs, her body completely numb, and all she could do was accept his help. "Can you walk," he asked, and she nodded, still not able to make eye contact with him.

He led her to the bathroom and sat her on the bench near the tub. He removed her boots and outer armor and set them aside. He helped her get out of most of her clothes but hesitated at her undergarments, afraid to cause her embarrassment now or them further embarrassment later. "Can you take it from here or do you still need me," he asked.

Finally she looked at him, eyes full of fear and panic. "Please don't leave me," she said on the verge of tears.

He grabbed both her hands to calm her. "Okay, I won't. Stand up for me and we'll get you out of the rest of your clothes."

She did as asked and he helped as she removed the remaining garments she had on. It took everything in him not to look as the remaining cloths fell to the floor. He helped her in the tub, and to his relief she immediately sat down pulling her legs up in front of her hiding her front from his view. She rested her head on her knees as he began to bathe her. He imagined she was in some sort of shock, from what he didn't know yet, but it was clear she was nowhere near her usual self. There was none of their usual banter or flirting or teasing. Instead she was trusting him to take care of her because she could not.

He washed her hair, her back, her arms and lower legs. He did everything he could comfortably without having her move. When he was finished with all he could do, he placed the cloth on her knees. "You do the rest okay? I will find you something sufficient to wear."

She nodded, quietly thanking him, and he left her alone.

Fenris was thankful to hear the movement of water as she tended to the remaining dirt on her body. He rummaged through the closets of the old mansion and found a large silk shirt for her to wear. He returned to the kitchen and put some stew on the fire to warm up as he heard silence again from the tub. He knocked on the door frame asking if she was ready, and she said yes, barely loud enough for him to hear. He entered, placing the shirt on the wash table and handed her his robe to dry in. "Robe first, relax by the fire and eat, then change and sleep." he advised her, and she nodded again, looking up at him.

"I'm a mess huh," she said almost sounding like her old self.

He smiled, thankful for some sign of life from his friend. "At least you are a clean mess. Let me help you." He extended his hand again to her, and helped her out of the tub. She kept her back to him, and he slipped the robe on her from behind, allowing her to keep her modesty.

They walked towards the fire and he helped her sit. His back was towards her as he stirred the stew on the fire, and she played with the rope belt on the robe mindlessly. "I missed you," she said softly after some silence. He turned to look at her but she was staring blankly again into the fire. He knelt down in front of her, holding both of her hands now in her lap. "Can you tell me what happened," he dared to ask.

Hawke looked at him now, tears forming in her eyes and shook her head. He released one of her hands to caress her cheek and wipe a fallen tear. "It's fine, you don't have to. Just know I am here for you."

She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning against his hand on her face. She had imagined leaving the Deep Roads and returning to their flirty banter, trying to deal with the pain from his lyrium markings, and living happily ever after. Instead she was a mess, barely functioning and making a fool of herself. He must think I am a complete idiot, she thought now embarrassed about her earlier bath.

But he didn't move, was still next to her, and now pushing her hair out of her face with nothing but tenderness and caring. She knew his markings were less painful on his hands and feet, but she imagined he had to have felt some discomfort from all their touching tonight.

Yet she couldn't pull away. She knew she should, but she was frozen again searching his green eyes for an answer as to how he dealt with this pain. She felt like she was dying inside and didn't have a clue how to live again, or even how to breath.

He finally pulled away from her when the bubbling stew brought them back to reality. He removed it and reached out again for her. "I will feed you if I have to," he joked trying to get a reaction from her. His reward was her soft laugh and smile. "How I have missed that smile; my mission is complete," he said as they sat at the table.

She let the smile linger for him as some payment for all he had done. He poured the stew into two bowls and they sat in silence and ate. He had hoped the simple act of eating at the table as they had done in the past would bring some normalcy to what seemed to be a difficult few weeks for her. Neither of them spoke, as was typical of their previous meals, but instead just enjoyed each others company after a month apart.

When they were finished eating Fenris took her up to the stairs, letting her go off into the bathroom to change as he prepared the bed for her. She emerged a few minutes later and joined him to help. He paused for a moment taking in the sight of her; freshly bathed, shirt hanging just above her knees, long legs exposed with some bruises old and new. It seems they met some resistance in the Deep Roads, and while he was curious, he didn't want to push anymore this evening. For whatever horrid reason had brought them together tonight, his guilt in appreciating it almost overwhelmed him.

He lifted the sheet and blanket and allowed her to climb into bed, then gently covered her. She looked at him and realized aloud "I can't take your bed from you Fenris."

"I have slept in worse places than a chair," he said to her. "Besides, I am not tired yet. I will watch over you as you sleep."

She seemed puzzled at this admission, and without thinking asked, "why?"

He sighed and knelt down on the floor to get closer to her. "Do you know why I found you tonight," he asked.

She thought for a moment before shaking her head.

He caressed her face again as he confessed. "I have never been one to believe in the Maker after what I have had to endure. Yet every night since you left I have been at the Chantry asking for your safe return. I mean it when I say I am here for you, will remain at your side, and will take care of you."

An unexpected tear escaped her eye and he removed it with his thumb. He didn't know if she was upset in a good way or a bad way, but he knew now was not the time for some serious conversation. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, retreating from her side. "Yell if you need me Hawke, I will be here."

She nodded, a soft "thank you" escaping from her lips as she closed her eyes and immediately drifted off to sleep.

As she slept he kept his word of watching her, making sure she slept soundly and without worry. As he sat in the chair memorizing this moment for what seemed like hours, he felt himself almost drifting asleep until he heard the front door open.