Hawke was wandering, looking for Fenris. He was somewhere nearby, obviously by the blood tracks. Hawk took a good look around the small, dark alleyway of the slums. And there, hunched over in a puddle, sit a half-dead elf with glowing marks. Hawke sighed, and ran forward toward him. The closer Hawk got to Fenris, the more he could hear the wails and coughs. Fenris was now sitting in his own blood, as it pooled below him. "Ha-Hawk." Fenris gasped. "You pointy eared ass." Hawk picked him up carefully and laid him in his arms. The elf gazed up, his emerald eyes lurking deep into Hawk's soul. "Why did you run? I didn't need to chase you around town." Hawk gave a sincere smile. "I didn't want to die." Fenris's voice was low and strangled. "We need to get you home, and safe." Hawk swung Fenris into his arms and stood up. The elf snarled and hacked, blood dripping and splattering onto the hard cobble road.
Inside of Hawke's small, abandoned house, Fenris was laid on a cot beside a fireplace. Hawke began to snap away at creating a fire. Fenris moaned and held his upper stomach. Blood wetted his under armor, and soaked the cot that he lay in. "I'm getting you a drink and a blanket. I'll be right back, sweet heart." Hawke kissed Fenris's head, and the elf cringed from the raw affection.
Only moments later, it seemed, Hawke stormed in with a warm blanket and a stone cup of what looked like water. Fenris whimpered loudly, the excruciating pain hitting his heart. Hawk sneered and swore, carefully tearing off Fenris's armor and wet clothes. Fenris was left in his tight pants, and the cut was now fully exposed. Fenris was holding in his cries. The gash was at least two feet across, blood spilling out. Fenris's red hands held at the gash, even through the pain. "Take your hands away." Hawke pulled out gauze and a first aid kit. "Wh-what are you doing?" Fenris asked. Hawk only shushed the elf, and laid him down. He took a small towel and dampened it with water from the cup, dabbing it onto the wound. Fenris nearly cracked his tooth. "I bet these dammed tattoos aren't helping." Hawk snickered, slowly pushing the cloth into the cut. Fenris screamed as loud as his voice could carry when Hawke began to stitch. "Here." Hawk handed Fenris a towel. "Wh-what's this for?" he asked. "Put it in your mouth to stop the screams." Hawk nodded. Fenris obeyed, wrapping the towel up and grinning it between his teeth. Hawke began to sew the skin again, the new screams muffled by the towel. Tears began to stream down the elf's face with ease.
Hawk finally stitched the last round and tied the tight string. Fenris let the towel drop out of his mouth with relief. Hawke sighed, letting out a burst of tense energy. "That's taken care of." Fenris groaned, sitting up. "Hey hey, lay back down." Hawke growled. Fenris paused in the act, dropping willingly into the wet cot. Hawk tilted his head and sighed, "Let me change the bed. You need something better." "What do you have in mind?" Fenris squinted. Hawke scoffed and carefully picked the elf up.
The second Fenris was set in Hawke's bed, he conked out cold. Hawk watched him sleep for a moment, before laying the blanket over him and joining his side. The elf's hair was slightly damp with blood, his face hot and sweaty. Fenris's chest slowly raised and fell with every quiet breath. Hawke didn't mind taking care of a cocky, broody, annoying, adorable, anti-mage, run-away slave elf.