There were chasms in my heart. I pressed my back against the carved door, staring down the hall. Bodhan was stood, concerned, as usual. My nights at the Hanged Man were usually eventful, sure, but never that much.

"Oh, Bodhan," I sighed, pushing my body upwards and moving over to him slowly. "I'm a fool."

A small smile crept up his face as he grabbed my hand and patted it reassuringly. "No, messere, you are not. Care to tell us what happened?"

I turned, sighing, staring out the window at the dark streets outside. "You know the elf, the one you don't much care for?"

"Oh yes, messere, the broody one with tattoos?"

I nodded my head in agreement, turning. "He may have told me he liked me." My face blistered with red as I realised I had told Bodhan. He was trustworthy enough, and he, better than anyone, knew what I got up to in my house. It had not been long since Isabela had gone away from me, the woman I sorely loved waking up to every morning, and now... Fenris... had to join the 'lets upset Hawke' bandwagon? Why was it that I hurt, though?

The man was against me in most forms – I was a mage, a person he despised because of the blood running through my veins. I had defended Anders, and even had a thing with him for few weeks... not only that, but despite siding with Meredith, I had confided in Fenris that I believed the mages were not on a complete path to destruction. Though, I guess, we had both made advances over the years, more so before I met Isabela.

A rough but caring voice interrupted me from behind. "Go take a bath, messere. If you have any visitors I will turn them away."

"Thank you, Bodhan. I think I will." I smiled, turning sharply on my heels and walking up the stairs to the bathroom. It was clean, and smelled of lavender. Bodhan did a bloody excellent job of cleaning, and sometimes I felt as though I took advantage of him, but he was happy enough. The taps twisted, and the water seemed cold. Magic could have heated it soon enough, but there was a dull ache in my bones that had rattled me, and I was sure if I attempted to use magic, I would blow the house up in my dismal state.

The water had taken a while to warm, but my body was completely lathered and the goosebumps had vanished from my pale skin as I lay amongst the bubbles. Driving my head under the water, I closed my eyes for a few moments, feeling the warmth over my face. Oh, I am such a fool. At least I'm a good fool, however. I sat back up after what could have been only a few seconds, or a few minutes, gasping for the oxygen my lungs craved. My eyes were heavy and I did not know what I wanted to do. Go back to the Hanged Man? Go to Fenris' mansion? Go consult the wise mind of Varric?

There was a banging on the door and I looked, concerned. "Who is it?"

"It's Bodhan, Messere. The ah, the elf is here."

"You said you'd turn him away, no?"

"He said it's urgent, and he looks quite upset, messere."

I should have seen this coming – the damn elf never knows when to quit. I stood up, embracing the warm air that seemed like ice to my skin, and pulling on a robe, my long brown hair dripping down it's silk front. The lock clicked open as I opened the door, and Bodhan turned hastily, taking me down the hallway and down the stairs. Fenris sat, slumped on a chair, legs crossed and arms crossed, staring down. As he heard my approach, he looked up, the same desperate look on his eyes.

"Fenris."

"Hawke," he replied, the gravelly tone of his voice reverberating around the room. "I'm... sorry."

"Don't be," I sighed, walking over to where he sat and sitting next to him. He turned slightly, to look at me better. "I know, my makeup is... everywhere."

"Hawke, I... you..." there was a pause in his concerned tone of voice, and then he placed a hand on my cheek. "You're beautiful," he said, biting his lip.

"Oh thank you! You're still broody!" I laughed, looking at Bodhan, signalling him to leave the room. If I were to speak to Fenris, it would be better alone. Fenris removed his hand, obviously hurt that his compliment was returned with that.

As the door slammed behind Bodhan, I placed my hand on his face. "Oh you silly man." He didn't turn his face to look at me, but his gaze dropped at my eyes. "So soon after Bela is gone?"

"I'm sorry, Hawke. I thought I could comfort you. Maybe this is another thing I should practice at."

I approached his face, kissing his cheek, which grabbed his attention. I felt his hand grab at my waist, pulling me closer to him. "You needn't practice," I murmured, before my lips crashed against his. I was certain. I... liked this elf. In what way, I was unsure. He was attractive, and maybe if he lay with me I would feel better. But, at the same time, maybe I simply craved the comfort of someone, anyone. We had quarrelled over things, before, many, many things. But maybe the rivalry had changed his view of me, entirely.

He kissed me deeper, then opened his eyes and backed away from me. "I'm sorry, Hawke."

"This again?" I gently grabbed at his shoulder, peppering light kisses on his cheek and along his jaw line, then placed a hand on his chest plate.

"Hawke, I shouldn't..."

"Then I invite you to sleep here, tonight. It's past midnight, and I could do with someone to drink myself into the void with."

"I... it would be an honor."

I stood, remembering how short and how thin the robe was, blushing intensely and hoping he hadn't noticed. I walked over to the kitchen area, then poured a tumbler full of win before I slid it across the counter. Fenris stood and came over to where I was, taking a sip fom the tumbler. Gently pressing my back against the counter, I smiled at him. He had fun when he drank, I didn't know why. I had never seen him drunk, however. Well, I planned to change that. I took a swig from the bottle and Fenris almost spat out the drink in concern.

"Hawke... why are you drinking from the bottle?"

"I have some things my head and I need to sort out," I cooed.

We drank, and drank, and drank, and drank, until the sun was starting to rise. Around three in the morning, I took Fenris up to my bedroom, with the wine bottles from the pantry, of course, and we drank in there. The small shafts of light were dusting through my room, hitting me on the face. Neither of us were asleep yet, though I'd thrown up twice. I attempted to stay level headed by drinking water, but it didn't work. On accident, I had admitted to Fenris I liked him and the harsh silence had lingered in the room after that.

"Hawke," I heard him say.

I looked over, and then sloppily crawled to him. We were both sprawled out on the floor next to the fire. "Fenris."

"Kiss me, like you did earlier."

My face contorted into confusion at his demand, but I did. I clambered on top of him, legs on either side of his hips, pressing my lips softly onto his. He tasted like wine, and I probably did, too. I let go, sighing, before he slid from underneath me and picked me up, kissing my forehead. "Sleep, now, Hawke." I was confused, why the sudden change of plans. "Would you like to get changed into something else? I... I will go sleep in the guest room, if that is alright."

"No!" I shouted, grabbing his wrist, and leading his hand to the tie on my robe. "Stay here, and... I'm sure you can get my undressed, and there's no way you're sleeping in armour. Take it off"

His slender fingers gently undid the double knot I had tied in the thin tie, and I felt the silk brush against my flesh as he allowed it to drop off my body. I sat up, pushing the robe to the floor and then I gently began unfastening some of the buckles on his armour. He looked away, embarrassed? Ashamed? I didn't know, and I didn't care to know. Once the chest plate was off, I admired his flesh. The tattoos of lyrium that adorned him added to his beauty, in my eyes. He stumbled, almost falling. The drink had gotten to us both – my vision distorted in shades of green, pink, blue. His balance was off and his words slurred.

"Fenris," I whispered, looking up at him, placing a hand on the waistband of his armoured pants. "Come, now." He came closer to me, and kissed my forehead, placing a trembling hand on the back of my head. As he sat on the bed, I saw his manhood bulging in his pants. His familiar aroma filled my nostrils, though it was different from before. He sighed for a moment, staring into the air. I thought maybe he was reconsidering what we were going to be doing.

Suddenly he turned, and grabbed my waist. "Fenris, what are you-"

He silenced me with his lips, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and then peppering small and light kisses over my neck. In stark contrast to his grab, he gently pressed me into him, and he dragged his lightly trimmed nails down my back in invisible lines.

Intoxication had the two of us in its embrace, and everything seemed so... clumsy. Despite the liquer lacing us, he toppled us over, landing me in the centre of the bed with him looming over me, one hand cupping my breast, the other grasping my back. More kisses. Over, and over. They were driving me mad! His experienced tongue traced more lines down my chest, then down the centre of my gut and lower, still. Swift kisses brought him back from my thighs, and to my face, rubbing me softly.

"Hawke... I feel... so bad about this," he said in between sloppy kisses. "I shouldn't do this to you, you are... a good friend."

I grabbed his hand, placing it above my head. "Shh," I whispered to him, guiding him into me with my free hand. He entered me slowly at first, and it was unlike anything I'd felt in a while. He threw his head backwards, and moaned. Had it been that long since he'd fucked someone? Evidently. He savoured every moment. Gradually, he began thrusting harder into me, feeling my deepest reaches. "Fenris..."