Author's Note: SPOILERS AHEAD. Main plot spoilers. Also, if you have not romanced Fenris, there are some dialogue spoilers.

The warm glow of the fire illuminated the gloomy estate, warming Hawke's face as she leaned over the mantle. Resting her forearm against the frame, her void eyes stared vacantly into the firewood, absentmindedly thinking of her mother, Leandra, and the last moments they had spent together before she was taken to The Maker. The grief of her mother's loss was a misery she could not seem to pull herself out of, but she did not want to burden her companions with her unresolved mourning.

There was a soft padding of bare footsteps as Fenris entered the chamber, finally satisfied that the estate was safe after checking every room possible. They did not speak to each other for a longest time as the elf surveyed the scene before him, trying to understand how to approach the situation in the best way possible. Eventually, Hawke sent a curious look at him before returning her eyes to the fire wordlessly.

"I don't know what to say, but I am here for you," he began cautiously, not wanting to step on her toes and worsen her mood. She appreciated his words, letting her sad features remain on the fire as she straightened her stance.

"Was it my fault, Fenris? Could I have saved her?" she asked wonderingly, feeling the unmistakable pain of guilt in her heart. "I can't help but to think that if I had run just a little faster…"

The Tevinter elf paused briefly before stepping forward, coming to a halt just inches behind her. She could feel the heat of his flesh on her but he did not make contact. "You're asking for forgiveness that I cannot give you," he whispered near her ear, his monotone voice filled with a gentleness that was rare. "They say that death is only part of the journey. Does that help?"

"I was taught that we return to The Maker when we die," responded Hawke, sighing softly in her anguish.

"I've heard that, too," replied Fenris sternly, hesitantly resting his armored glove on her forearm consolingly. Feeling somewhat lightened by his touch, Hawke turned her head just barely to view him, unintentionally brushing her lips across his as she did. Briefly losing themselves in fixation, they shared a light kiss, just grazing the surface of each other's mouths as Fenris's palm cupped the groove of her waist. When the moment ended, she couldn't help but to pull out of his hold when her guilt overwhelmed her once again.

"Is it horrible that I wish my mother had never existed?" she asked him, swallowing heavily as she began to choke up. "I wouldn't have to bear this misery if she hadn't."

"Atleast you had a mother," Fenris droned unexpectedly, but when Hawke turned to face him, shocked by the emotion in his voice, she saw only his back as he exited the room in a quick stride, slamming the door after himself.

With growing remorse, Hawke stared after her lover sympathetically, not knowing how strongly he would react to her insensitive words. Fenris had succumbed to one of his own inner demons during his consolation of her, struggling to maintain his composed persona.

Well, atleast he tried.