I'm back for a sec. A friend of mine submitted this prompt to me on tumblr, so this is what I wrote for it.
As per the usual, I own nothing. BioWare owns all. I just borrowed a few things for this fic. Enjoy!
It had come around to be Fenris's turn to take Hawke home from the Hanged Man once again. He had a certain distaste for those days, it meant that he couldn't drink as much as he wanted, that he was directly responsible for what happened to her. The last part threw his past mistakes back in his face, reminding him in excruciating detail of what he had put her through. He stared grimly at the wall opposite of their rowdy table, brooding, as Varric would say. He gulped down more of his wine, barely letting the last drop settle in the bottom of the glass before he waved for another from the bar.
His thoughts always circled Hawke's pain, how much of it was his and how much of it she came by herself. It didn't help that he had to guard her, as it were, at least once a week. That night was the third that he had done so that week, Aveline was on guard duty and could not attend the Hanged Man festivities and Anders had been excused for over-extending himself at the clinic. Sebastian rarely attended, something about drinking and the Chantry being his excuse. That left Merrill, Varric, and Isabela. Merrill was usually escorted home by one of the other two so that left Fenris to care for Hawke.
Despite the long hours he worked at the clinic, Anders didn't seem bothered to come to the Hanged Man every night, keeping close to Hawke most of the time. It made Fenris's stomach turn how easily the other man, his potential rival, could make Hawke smile, her face lighting up. His face twisted and he cursed before downing half of his new glass of wine. This kind of thinking wasn't helping him. Hawke was not some prize to be won from a competition; she was so much more than that. Fenris doubted she would even want him back anyway, too much pain. His attention was caught as the blonde man stood to leave, his smile wide as gently removed Hawke's arms from around his waist, turning a hand to press a kiss to her palm. Fenris clenched a fist, looking pointedly away as Hawke giggled, the sound usually one of his favorites. He finished his wine and waved for another. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, but he didn't care. Three nights of guarding Hawke on her way home was too much. If he had to drink himself to oblivion to be excused for the next time, he would. Hawke was more than capable of taking care of herself.
Things began to blur from there, the table getting louder as Isabela and Varric argued over alcohol. Isabela was half sitting, half standing as she thrust a finger into Varric's chest, saying that it was absolutely acceptable to mix different kinds of alcohol, it was practically pirate code. Varric just laughed, turning to wave for more drinks. Merril was huddled next to them, watching their antics with interest. It was at that point that Hawke decided it was a good idea to intervene, jumping to her feet to add her opinion. Or she would have jumped to her feet, had she not fallen backward over her chair instead. The crash was enough to turn Fenris's head, his eyes staring at her legs for far too long before he realized what had occurred. Then it dawned on him that perhaps it was time to take her home. He stood, a little wobbly himself, and walked carefully to the fallen Champion, her stunned face almost enough to elicit a chuckle from him. Instead he sort of smiled and grimaced at the same time, reaching an arm down to pull her up. She ended up pulling him down on top of her, however, raucous laughter spilling from her as he flopped on top of her chest. Her arms came up around him and she planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, mumbling nonsense in his ear. He regained himself quickly and pushed off of her, pretending he couldn't feel the entire room's gaze on his back.
"Hawke, it's time to go." The words came out low, almost threatening. In the back of his mind, he was dimly aware that he did not want to speak to her that way. But the words were already out, too late to take them back. Her big gray eyes looked up at him, wide in surprise, from her fall or his tone, he had no idea. He found that he didn't care. He offered her a hand which she took to pull herself up, listing precariously to the side when she got to her feet. Fenris sighed, gripping her hand and pulling it across his shoulders to support her unsteady weight. They made their way unsteadily to the door and it took them several moments before they managed to get it open and escape the stifling room.
The cool night air was both refreshing and sobering for Fenris, the edges of his vision a little less blurry than they had been before. He adjusted Hawke's arm around his neck and brought his arm up around her waist to lend her more support, her walking almost erratic in that she couldn't seem to pick one direction to walk in. She let out a big sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked, her entire demeanor changed from the buoyant girl that had been in the Hanged Man.
"Oh Fenris. I miss you." The words were quiet, but there were nothing else to distract him from them. Her tone made his stomach twist. He didn't want this. Hawke's foot caught on a stone and she stumbled. Fenris reacted quickly, his other hand coming up to press into her stomach, keeping her upright.
"Careful." His words were quiet too, taking on the same tone that she had used earlier. He could've cursed himself. It would be easier if she hated him, never wanted to see him again. She looked over at him, her dark hair falling across her face for a second.
"Thank you." Her tone was genuine and he found he couldn't look away. Her fingers twitched at the base of his neck, raking through the hair there. Fenris stiffened, mind frozen and unable to decide how to respond.
"I have no idea where I'd be without you. Though I am getting a better picture of what life looks like without you these days. It's not pretty, Fenris." She stopped speaking and sighed again. He felt one of her fingers twist in his hair and he had to suppress a shiver.
"Hawke," he stopped to clear his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "Hawke, perhaps we should continue—"
"No, wait." Hawke dropped her arm from his shoulders and took a step back, her whole body tipping dangerously backward for a moment. Fenris adjusted his grip on her, his hands sliding down to her waist to steady her. She looked at him silently for a moment before she reacted, giving her head a little shake.
"Everything was spinning there for a moment, sorry." She patted his hands before scrubbing at her forehead, her eyes scrunched closed in concentration. Fenris waited patiently. What seemed like hours later, when was she still stood there, a hand pressed to her forehead, Fenris pulled her back to his side, moving to drape her arm over his shoulders once again. He didn't have all night to wait for her to find the words she was looking for. She pulled her arm from his grasp and slapped his hands away from her, her expression turning to a scowl.
"No! I have something to say!" Her voice was high like a child throwing a fit. Fenris stood back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Go ahead then." He would give her five minutes before he dragged her back to her fancy mansion. She liked to pretend that she didn't need sleep to function, but he knew better. Besides, the way she rocked where she stood only showed that the following morning would surely be a rough one for her.
"I just, I just wanted to say… that I miss you." Fenris raised an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, you said so before. Now can we go?" He unfolded his arms from his chest, ready to grab her and go.
"No, no, you don't get it. I miss you. Will you come back?" He felt his heart drop, her simple question stealing his breath more effectively than a blow to the stomach. How could he answer such a question? How could he say that he was a fool for ever leaving her, that he regretted that he'd ever left, that he thought of her nearly every second of every day, that he would want nothing more in the world than to stay with her for as long as she'd have him, follow her wherever she went? Impossible. There were no words to say such things. He opened his mouth to speak, but found there was nothing for him to say, really.
"Hawke, let's just—"
"No!" Her voice broke over the word and she wrapped her arms around herself, guarding herself. From him, he realized. "Fenris, I need you. I-I can't make this work without you." Her arms waved wildly around her, showing what this was. "I don't work without you. You have come back. Please." She was begging. He had reduced her to begging. The thought made him flinch and sobered him instantly. He didn't want this.
"Please." Her voice turned quiet. "Please. Just come back with me. You- We…" She stopped, arms falling helplessly to her sides.
"Hawke I—" would love to, he wanted to say. I will do anything you ask. I love you. Yes, I'll come back with you. All the things he wanted to say but couldn't. He couldn't inflict that pain on her now. "Hawke, I can't." The words seemed to break her, she crumbled. He lunged to stop her fall, catching her just before she hit the stone of the street. Her shoulders shook and he pressed his face to her hair. "I want to, but I can't Hawke." He murmured, closing his eyes against her pain, his pain.
"Why?" Her voice was thick. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, willing it all to just go away.
"I just can't." It was the best he could do, he had no other explanation. She let out a sob and curled into his chest, fingers grasping at his armor in vain. He held his eyes closed for a moment longer, steeling himself. Then he scooped her up easily, directing them towards Hightown. He worked to keep his breathing even as he felt her cry against his chest. He hadn't wanted this; he didn't want to inflict more pain. It seemed he didn't have much choice in the matter though.
By the time they reached Hawke's mansion, she had gone still, her breathing had evened out. He knocked on the door as carefully and quietly as he could so as not to wake her. Bodhan answered with a tired smile, commenting on how long it had been since he'd seen the elf. Fenris only nodded as he walked purposefully to Hawke's room, eager to be separated from the situation, separated from her. He eased the door to her room open and carried Hawke to her bed. As carefully as he could, he laid her on the bed, relieved when she rolled easily away from him. The blankets were quickly pulled back and Hawke was successfully tucked in within moments and Fenris found himself at the door to her room. He looked back and hesitated. He could stay, she wanted him to, invited him to. But no. That would do more harm than good; he was not ready for such a step. He was not ready to express how he really felt. So instead he turned and ghosted through the mansion before any more dangerous ideas could enter his mind.