Hawke stretched, yawned, and felt the left side of the bed. Nothing. She sat up, still groggy but satisfied to see Fenris, already dressed, leaning against the fireplace. She felt a tang of, (something), embarrassment maybe. He looked confused and vulnerable, living up to his name for the first time since they met. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"That bad, huh?" she joked, attempting to capture her usual light hearted air. Fenris turned, startled, and his expression softened. Hawke's heart slowed and she patted the bed beside her, "Sit with me."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't," he mumbled, casting his silent green eyes downward.

"Did they hurt? Your markings, I mean?" Fenris glanced at his arms where his lyrium markings shown in the light from the fireplace.

"No, or not as badly as I had thought they would. Hawke," he said stepping tentatively forward, "it was, you were amazing, better than I could've imagined but..."

"But what?"

"My memories, they came flooding back so quickly, I was unprepared, and then they were gone. Everything I wanted, I'd lost, was in my grasp and then was torn away from me again. It was too much."

"Don't you want them back? Perhaps we should try again, and this time you'll be expecting it. I'll gladly help you with that," she practically purred, leaning back on her hands. His eyes widened in shock and he stepped back.

"I don't think you understand how hard that was, my former life snatched away just as I was beginning to remember. I could almost see my mother's face, remember a Tevinter in which I wasn't alone, wasn't Danarius' pet. And then it was ripped away from me," He hit the mantle, shutting his eyes in an attempt to gain control of his emotions and ignore Hawke's accusing stare. "I can't go through that again, I'm sorry Hawke. I was selfish, just wanted to be happy for a while. I'm sorry, I have to go," He walked past her bed, and shut the door quietly behind him. She heard Bodahn wish Fenris a good night and then he was gone.

Her chest felt tight and the back of her eyes stung, hot. Just a few hours ago, she and Fenris had been kissing, his strong hands on her hips, her breasts, tangled in her hair. His breathing rapid. His breath sweet. She'd traced his markings with her finger tips, careful not to hurt him, and kissed his scars. They had rolled together in her sheets. Afterwards, they had drifted off to sleep with their fingers still intertwined.

She stood up, wavered slightly on her feet, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were puffy, though she didn't remember crying. She traced her fingers along her long neck, where his lips had been seemingly moments before.

Sitting here will drive me crazy, she thought. Her room still smelled like him, her pillows, her sheets. She sat on her bed, pulled on her boots, and tied back her hair. She got up, checking herself once more in the mirror, and headed out the door. She tip toed past her mother's room and bid Bodahn good night. She opened her front door and stepped out into the the dark Hightown night.

She made her way to the Hanged Man, eyes stinging from the cold wind. She wiped her cheeks as she opened the door to the bar, and scanned the crowded room for Varric. He was there all right, drinking with Isabela and undoubtably telling outlandish stories about her. She smiled, tears spilling over, as she walked over to his table. She tapped him on the shoulder and gave Isabela a watery look and shook her head no to say she didn't want to talk about it. Varric's normally cheerful face clouded over when he saw Hawke. He got up from the table and led her to the bar.

"Two, please," the bartender turned to get them their drinks and he waited for Hawke to speak. She sniffled as she took one of the pints and cradled it against her chest. Varric took a swig of his and sighed deeply.

"Hawke."

"It's Fenris, he-" she sighed and took a sip of her drink. It burned her throat and warmed her stomach. "He ended things, so I guess you guys were all right. He wasn't good for me or whatever it was you said."

"Ended things?" he snickered, "Did things ever begin?"

"I guess, just now. After we finished dealing with Hadirana, he came over and...and then he left. Said it was too much, and left."

"My, I didn't know ol' Broody had it in him," Varric smirked and took another gulp from his drink. Hawke drank as well, relishing as the warmth in her stomach spread. "I'm kidding Hawke, mostly. I'm sorry, I am. But you know what they say, the cure for a broken heart is a lot of alcohol."

"Who says that?"

"Well, maybe not they, but I do. Now come on, drink with me," he raised his drink and drained it. Hawke followed his lead.