Fenris quietly let himself in the Hawke Estate, grateful that Bohdan didn't seem to be awake at the late hour. He was still not accustomed to having a key, but it was a pleasant, heady freedom to be welcome in Hawke's home at any time.
He padded up the stairs and paused for a moment before knocking on Hawke's bedroom door, overcome suddenly with doubt. On one hand, she had said he was welcome to come see her at any time of the day or night. Still, he glanced at the high window in the hall to see the moon full and high in the sky - it was late. Hawke had probably retired to bed ages ago. Suddenly it seemed very ill-advised to come barging in at the dead of night - perhaps it wouldn't matter to her that she'd been gone for three days on a trip to Sundermount. Perhaps she hadn't missed him as much as he very much didn't want to admit he missed her.
Fenris spent an agonizing few moments wavering between leaving and knocking - he knew if Hawke could see him, she'd laugh gently and tell him not to be silly. Before he could decide what to do, he heard a loud thump inside the room, followed by breaking glass, and his decision was made for him. He flung the door open, his tattoos glowing fiercely as he searched for an intruder.
But the room was quiet and the windows were intact. The only sound was the gentle crackling from the fireplace. Hawke knelt on the floor by her desk, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Fenris felt his face heat with embarrassment, and he slowly let the light drain out of his tattoos.
"Forgive me, I -"
"Fenris what - " Hawke said at the same time. She breathed out a laugh and shook her head. "You thought someone was in here, didn't you?"
"You know me too well." He shifted awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to duck out of the room. "It seems that I've been a fool."
"No, not at all. I'm sorry I scared you. I don't know what came over me, I just…. " She gestured helplessly at the floor, where it seemed the entire contents of her desk was scattered. Shards of glass from a broken vase lay intermingled with with rolls of parchment, broken quills, books, and a few dried flowers. Fenris helped her clean the mess without comment, and when they were finished, Hawke leaned wearily against her bed.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "You know I don't usually get angry like that. There's just… there are so many people asking me for things. I'm bombarded with letters every day from the Chantry and the Circle and the nobles and everyone just wants me to fix everything!" Her voice rose slightly, and she sat down heavily on the bed. "I'm supposed to be their Champion, but I never asked for that. I'm just a backwater Ferelden, I don't know how to do all this. I don't want to do all this!" She rubbed her eyes wearily and sighed, looking down at her hands. "I got to babbling. I didn't mean to throw all of this on you."
"You needn't do that, you know," Fenris murmured, taking her hand after a moment's hesitation. 'Not with me."
"Do what?"
"Keep all of your burdens to yourself. You try not to let others see your pain, and I wish you would… I wish it were not so," he finished lamely.
Tears leaked out of the corners of Hawke's eyes. "I suppose you're right," she said faintly. She slumped forward slowly to rest her forehead on his chest, and her grip on his hand tightened. Fenris sat next to her on the bed and put one arm around her gingerly, still unsure of what sort of touch she needed. When she didn't shrug him off, he pulled her a little closer, feeling inordinately pleased when she rested her head on his shoulder.
"You take too much on yourself, Hawke," Fenris said quietly. "I may not be of much help, but I wish you would let me hold your burdens with you."
"I will. I promise." She turned her face towards his and kissed his cheek gently. "And Fenris? You're far more helpful than you think. I don't know what I'd do without you."