Hey there~ This is just an idea for a scene that's been kicking around in my brain.
I'd like to expand on it, but I think I like it as just a short. Be sure to tell me if you want more though~
(I've used one of my custom Hawke's)
Fenris walked through Hightown, the afternoon sun bathing the fancy buildings and fancy people in a warm glow. He glanced at the papers in his hand again.
"Tch." He made the sound as he remembered the irritating dwarf and sighed in frustration.
...
"Hey, Elf! Can you give these documents to Hawke?" Varric said conversationally, holding out a wad of files. Fenris was about to leave The Hanged Man when the dwarf propositioned him. He looked around the tavern, as if the dwarf had been talking to someone else, then back at Varric's outstretched hand.
"Wasn't Hawke just here? Why didn't you give them to her then?" He objected grumpily. Varric made a 'pfft' noise with his lips before answering.
"Because, these are Kirkwall documents, not stories, unfortunately, and I was helping her fill them out."
"By forging her signature, you mean?" He interrupted, but Varric ignored him.
"I noticed she looked wrecked so I told her to go home, and that I'd get someone to drop them off at her place."
Fenris sighed and took the pile, held together by two lengths of leather rope.
"Fine. Although I'm certain you have a dozen others who could do this." He growled, but Varric merely smiled smugly in return.
...
Fenris rounded the corner into the courtyard that lay at the base of the Viscount's Way steps, then headed left, where a couple of Amell crests hung on either side of a certain woman's doorway. Shield sized versions of the purse sized one clipped to his belt. When he reached the door, he raised a fist to knock, hesitated for half a second, and then rapped his knuckles on the wood. He stared down at the official looking files and wondered why he'd hesitated.
Even though I've finally come to terms with my feelings and told her how sorry I am...I still get nervous every time I make eye contact with her. I'm so afraid that I'll see that same hurt that was in them three years ago...or maybe I'm more fearful that I'll see nothing...He was snapped out of his thoughts by Bodahn opening the door cheerily.
"Ah! Serah Fenris!" He exclaimed happily. Fenris still wasn't quite used to Hawke's man servant being so glad to see him, or referring to him as 'serah'.
"Um...yes, greetings Bodahn, I have some documents from Varric, for Hawke." He held them out sheepishly, still remembering the chilling glares he'd received from the dwarf after the night he'd left Hawke. Bodahn didn't take the papers though; he waved his hands in front of his face and shook his head saying,
"Oh no, you'd better give those straight to Mistress Hawke." He said, stepping back and gesturing for the elf to enter. "She'll be in her chambers." He finished, smiled at Fenris, and then scurried away before the elf could object. Fenris muttered 'okay' before cautiously entering. He closed the door behind him before walking through the foyer and into the estate's main guest hall. The fire, as always, was burning ferociously with Hawke's mabari, Cornelius, snoring softly and lying belly-up in front of the flames. Even though Bodahn had said otherwise, he'd expected to see Hawke at her letter desk, or coming down the stairs like she always did when someone came to visit. But alas, he wasn't that lucky. He gingerly headed up the stairs, passing Orana on his way, who nodded and curtsied in his direction. He nodded back, as he was never sure of what to do. That girl had an unsettling stare that made him uncomfortable. He'd told Hawke as much as well, and in typical Hawke style, she'd had no idea what he was on about. She'd laughed at him, and he got a chill remembering that Orana had been in a corner on the other side of the room, staring at him creepily from over Hawke's shoulder.
He stopped at Hawke's door and shook his head sharply, clearing his thoughts. He knocked a couple of times, but when that yielded nothing, he called her name. He frowned, then slowly opened the door and poked his head through.
"Sparrow?" He questioned, using her first name usually got her attention pretty quickly, but when he got a better look at the room he saw her figure curled up on her bed. She was the wrong way around though, her feet where her head should be and vice versa. Still had casual trousers and plain white shirt on, like all she could do was kick her boots off and flop down. She was well and truly asleep.
He crept in, closing the door behind him quietly. He went over to her desk and sat the papers down on her journal. He glanced over at her, and then carefully walked over to her bed. He cocked his head to one side, wondering how she could sleep in such a strange position. She was on her side, in a loose foetal position, except her left arm which, instead of being under her, was sticking out behind her and hanging over the other side of the bed. He smiled softly as he watched her, her golden hair falling out of its usually tight bun.
He wasn't sure what quite came over him, but he lifted up her right arm gently and cautiously crept into the niche created by the curve of her position, nestling his body against hers, before tenderly placing her arm back down so that it rested on his waist. He took her hand and carefully pulled it closer to his face, which in turn pulled her slightly closer to him. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly.
He wasn't quite sure of what he doing.
He liked the feeling, as if she was hugging him. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realised he quite liked hugs. No one had ever hugged him before he met Hawke, and even if they had, he didn't remember.
Am I a bad person for making her hug me when she's not aware of it? He contemplated, but didn't move.
That's it. Really! Thanks for reading~