*[1]: 'ab imo pectore' means 'from the bottom of the heart'
That night he left, Hawke could remember the sound of the elf's voice.
It was the sound of something broken.
"So, elf," Varric started, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. "Funny story I heard the other day. They've been mentioning a ghostly being that haunts Hightown, possibly a demented ghoul of a life long past."
Fenris took a sip from his mug, frowning at the questionable contents of the ale before setting it back down on the wooden furniture. Not as though the Hanged Man could afford much more anyway, what with all its filth about.
"I can't imagine why such a rumour has been spread."
"Yes, well, your broody presence in the dark of the night is hardly the greatest of concerns right now. Hawke's been really terrible with jokes lately."
"There was a time when he was not?"
Varric rubbed his chin casually before shrugging. "Point taken. But the thing is, we all know that the boy's not going to brood about himself. Instead we're seeing more fights recently. Reckon he's taken down the entire of the damned Coterie by now. Anyhow..."
Fenris waited, being far too used to how Varric decided to choose his words in tactful conversation. He set down his cards facing up, claiming a few more silvers over from the dwarf as they temporarily paused their conversation for the game.
"We thought you could talk to him. Cheer him up a little."
A frown appeared on the elf's face at first, but he contemplated it as he shuffled the cards back into the deck.
"Well, it's either that or Blondie can go-"
"I will.. attempt a conversation."
"That's my boy."
The next time the companions travelled with Hawke, Varric did seem to be speaking the truth. Quite a rarity, Fenris noted, though he knew the dwarf had always treated his friends well. Hawke's words retained their sarcasm, but his words were dry and when Fenris managed to capture a glimpse of his face, he seemed weary.
Their main objective of the day was to clear out some blood mages hiding on the Wounded Coast and discover if there were any other further activity about. Other ill-trained mages first met their attacks, likely new to the art of blood magic. Fenris frowned as he remembered the woman in the Blooming Rose (affectionately dubbed as 'apostitude' by Isabela) and continued on with his blows.
The last warped and shifted before their eyes, a greater danger than the previous few, but even the abomination was dealt with swiftly.
Hawke had been particularly aggressive; fireballs blazed furiously, ice formed with deadly vigour, lightning struck on target and none of the opposing were left standing.
"Well, it seems now we have a report to report on. About all the wounded people on the Wounded Coast."
Varric shook his head, his slight exasperation made apparent. Anders frowned. He was agreeable to aid in removing blood mages, but there are times where he seemed somewhat against fighting people that are still of his own. "Yes, all thanks to you, Hawke."
"That's me!"
Fenris's gaze held onto Hawke, narrowing slightly, but he simply started on the way back to Kirkwall. Such forced enthusiasm was a daily norm- but was he just imagining a note of bitterness?
The day drew on. Only the elf accompanied Hawke to report, since it was closer to Hightown than the dwarf's Hanged Man or the abomination's clinic in Darktown.
The Templar scrutinized Hawke's limbs, as if to find any form of evidence to blood magic, but allowed him to leave after being disappointed with none. In relative silence, they walked back to Hightown with Hawke passing polite smiles to whichever nobles that his mother had made acquaintances of. (Though Fenris suspected that Hawke himself had no idea of who these people were.)
"Are you.."
"Hm?" Hawke turned his head slightly towards Fenris, seemingly curious.
Speaking was difficult. "Are you all right?"
"I'm all left, actually. My right's pretty tired. I think. A lot of staff-waving today." He laughed, but it sounded too hoarse for the elf's liking.
The answer came after a short pause. "Very well."
They were about to reach their respective homes and then they would part. The two exchanged casual goodbyes as how they always did. A relationship had been kept up of what felt like friendship, but the others were not blind to the subtle tension in whatever was left of their romance.
"Hawke?"
His name left Fenris' mouth before the elf could even think about stopping himself.
The man looked back, a brow quirked.
"Feel better." Please.
He headed back to his mansion, sparing Hawke the need to reply.