When some say that it's "pouring" outside, you had best try to think on their personalities and how much they exaggerate. Say, if a Hightown noble said it was pouring, it could just be a light sprinkle. Something that was annoying to them as they were too scared to go out and get their clothes wet. When Hawke said it was pouring, on the other hand, you had better believe that the streets were flooded to your ankles. Which was exactly how it had been for the past week. He'd gotten scared that his companions would be swept away in the current, especially those who lived in… dingier residences.
His uncle was currently staying with his mother, as Hawke himself wanted little to do with him. And he had tried to convince Merrill, Anders, Isabela, and Varric all refused. The elven girl said that she needed to remain in her home, just in case she needed to move furniture. She didn't want that blasted mirror getting more damaged than it already was, after all. Anders… Anders seemed more reluctant to decline. He had seemed torn, but in the end had chosen that he needed to remain with his patients, most of them sick from the damp, cold weather. Isabela and Varric had both joked that if the Hanged Man were to get swept away, they would go down with it. As if they were captains and that was their ship. At the very least, they had a second story they could flee to.
Hawke made it very clear to each of them that should they ever become overly uncomfortable, his estate was always open to them. Aveline didn't need the invitation. She lived comfortably in the highest part of the city. But truth be told… Hawke was lonely. The weather didn't permit for adventuring, so it had actually been a week since he had really seen his friends, and he was starting to go stir crazy with being kept in the house with his mother trying to convince him which girl would be best for marriage. Which he declined every single time, of course. He wasn't interested in some noble girl who would only want his money. No, he already had his eyes on someone.
When it hit him he nearly slammed his head on the desk that he was sitting at. While Fenris did live in Hightown, his little shack of a home could hardly be considered stable. How could he have not even thought about inviting him? And he would never say no to the elf's company. Usually he would wait for a lull in the storm before he went to find his friends, but this couldn't wait. He didn't care that the weather was working hard to keep everyone indoors. He shrugged on a coat and made his way through to where he knew Fenris lived. It was a hard trek, as the wind kept threatening to sweep him right off his feet, and the cold was like little daggers even through his coat.
When he finally made it to his friend's home he just made his way in, never having to bother with knocking. In fact, the elf had once said that it was bothersome to answer the door, and that Hawke should just come in if that was what he wanted. Just as he'd feared, the entire lower level of the home was only slightly less flooded than outside and just a few degrees warmer. "Fenris! I have an invitation for you!" He made his way up the stairs and frowned when he didn't see the elf by the fire, where he usually stood to brood. Or drink. The man drank far too much and ate far too little.
It was almost worrisome that Fenris was, actually sprawled out on his bed instead. Despite how dark it was, it was nearing the middle of the day… and the elf tended to be an early riser. Likely thanks to the lifestyle he'd had for as long as he could remember. Wake before the master, tend to what needed tending to without interruption. Then when he ran it was always waking up before Danarius to get further away from him faster. That was another thing the elf did little of. He didn't sleep much.
Hawke really just wanted to pamper him, so he carefully made his way over and gently brushed some of that strikingly white hair from his face. His fingers just barely grazed the skin of his forehead and he frowned. That was a little warmer than usual, and so he took a better feel, placing his entire palm over his forehead. Fenris was burning up, but it really wasn't that much of a surprise. After all, this was the reason why Anders was still in his clinic. Cold and wet environments made it easier to catch illnesses. Many of which could be deadly.
The fact that Fenris hardly even stirred was worrisome, but there was little Hawke could do. So he went down to the flooded basement, rescued a few bottles of wine, and headed back up the stairs. He put the bottles in a basket and set it aside for the time being so he could wrap Fenris up in every blanket he had. There was no real point in putting the basket in on the last layer, but he figured that if it was under the covers as well, at least it would stay put while he carried the man to his estate.
Again the thought of Fenris not eating enough came to mind as he lifted him. He was so light, and it wouldn't likely be that much of a struggle to drag him back home. Part of him feared he'd not eaten at all since the rains first began. The walk back home was harder than the original walk there, but that was only thanks to the added weight. Still, the mage took it one step at a time, not thinking of how far or close his destination was but instead concentrating on just one foot in front of the other. It made it easier for him to get home, and before he really even knew it he was carrying Fenris through the main room.
Leandra jumped up from her spot by the fire place to see what bundle her son had brought home, and Hawke could see the worry written on her face. She'd not met Fenris too many times, really. Perhaps twice at most, but the fact that she ran to the kitchen made her son's heart swell with joy. He knew he wasn't exactly her favorite, but he was the only one she had now, with Carver in the Gray Wardens and all. While she was fixing something warm for the elf to drink or eat, Hawke laid his friend down. He brushed the blankets off the other, now that they were wet and doing far more harm than good, and lifted Fenris again to take him to his room.
Sharing his bed wasn't something he had any real qualm with. Nor did he really think anything of stripping the other down and putting him in one of his own night robes. He gently stroked Fenris' hair, smiling down at the one man who held his affection. The man that didn't know he held the gaze of a mage. Or perhaps he did, but didn't want to speak of it. Still, it was best not to think too much on that. "Wake up, Fenris. Come on then." He gently prodded the other until he woke, helping him sit up so he could eat the soup that Leandra soon brought him.
It was a house full of love, and at least these two Hawkes were very well known for pampering those they cared for.
