There was a fierceness in his pacing that hadn't been there prior to Hawke's disappearance. Varric stopped watching him hours ago; the movements of blurred lyrium markings moving back and forth were starting to make his head spin. Besides, he had seen it before. Every day in fact since Hawke disappeared, the elven warrior would spend the evening leaving distinct marks in whatever floor he happened to stalk upon. Weeks had gone by with no word from the blond-haired rogue, and her lover was ready to shed his skin in agony.

Aveline entered Varric's room and the incessant noise of footsteps slapping against wood ceased; until he looked up and saw the Captain of the Guard had an all too familiar expression on her face. She knew nothing, had heard nothing, and would eventually say, 'tomorrow something may turn up.'

This time he didn't wait for it. Tonight he had heard enough of empty promises and dead ends. He stormed passed her without a word, and Aveline sighed, shaking her head. "If he keeps this up someone is going to get hurt."

Varric nodded, gesturing for her to have a seat. "He blames himself for not being there. Until she's back within reach he isn't going to settle down." Varric didn't want to admit it, but he too was concerned about Fenris. With each passing day he was spiraling out of control. Their relationship had tamed the wild beast; now without Hawke, Fenris was quickly losing himself to his anger.

"If she comes back," Aveline stated gravely, her words startling Varric. "It's been a long time Varric. How long are we supposed to keep looking?" She didn't want to admit it, but there was no sign of the Champion, and they were running out of options.

Varric leaned back in his chair, eyeing Bianca beside him. He kept his cool better than Fenris, but his trigger finger was twitchy as well. "And if the situation were reversed? How long until she'd give up searching for one of us?" He wasn't ready to admit defeat. When Varric wasn't busy watching Fenris to make sure he didn't rip into any chests, he was meeting with all of his contacts throughout the city for any word.

Aveline knew he had a point. Marian considered all of them family and would spend her last breath if it meant saving one of them. "We have been through all the ships manifests of that day a hundred times," she reminded him. "The guards posted at the gates have been questioned until they lost their voices. There is no way she got out of the city. Not by any normal means."

Varric leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Those Seekers were digging for something. I would've suspected them as the villains in this mystery if Cassandra hadn't begged me for Hawke's location." Varric rubbed his chin in thought. "I wonder if Choir-boy has any new information in that department."

"He was due back a week ago," Aveline commented. "The situation in Starkhaven must be worse than he thought."

"This business with the mages can't be helping any," Varric retorted. "We're barely settling down here, but word on the street is every circle in Thedas is attempting what Anders and Orsino did."

"You'd think Kirkwall would be an example of what not to do," Aveline stated. "Is it connected to Hawke's disappearance?"

"Shit if I know," he replied. "But if the Seekers are sniffing around, that can only mean a Divine intervention is looming on the horizon. A city without a Viscount, Cullen the new Knight-Commander, and now a missing Champion? If the exalted march comes, there will be no Kirkwall for Hawke to return to, wherever she is."

"Perhaps I could shed some light on it for you," a voice came from the door. "Unless you wish to continue guessing, then by all means, please do so."

Varric let his right arm fall to the side of his chair, gripping Bianca. "Well well, if it isn't the Crow from Antiva," he said suspiciously.

"Former Crow," Zevran stated as he entered the room, "if you remember correctly." He grabbed a chair at Varric's table and turned it backwards before sitting down. "I wish to know everything you told the Seekers, and then everything you did not."

._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.

It had only been two weeks since Orana left to work for the de Launcets, but the exterior of the estate was quickly being overrun from neglect. He approached the front door, ignoring the ivy that now climbed the walls and nearly covered the crests on either side. The candle to the left of the door was long cold, burnt out of existence save for the pile of wax on the ground beneath it. Not long ago he would still knock, enjoying her scolding for not using his key, which inevitably led to the discussion of why he hadn't moved in yet.

Now he regretted not having done so.

Fenris entered the estate and shut the door, locking it once more. He entered the foyer only a few feet before sitting on the wooden bench that was his, or so she'd once informed him. Fenris never bothered waiting in the main room for her, or the library, or even her bedroom when she prepared to go out. This was his bench. This is where he'd remain, until she'd flash him her devious smile and they'd be off.

It was also where she found him the night of their first kiss.

He needed to see her. After Hadriana, she tried to comfort him, but he wasn't ready. Her touch sent a warmth through his body he had never before experienced, and it was too much to be near her. "We're friends, Fenris," she had said, but the moment her hand was on his shoulder, he felt something more.

"I'm not certain I know what that is," he said as he exited the estate. The hate was still in his heart, Hadriana's blood on his hands, and he didn't want to ruin his time with Hawke while dealing with the anger inside of him.

She came to him a few nights later and he told her everything. All the details of his past; his time on the run, the death of the fog warriors, of his many regrets. Not once did she judge him; her copper eyes full of compassion instead of censure. It was then he realized perhaps he did know what a friend was. When Hawke suggested it might mean more than that, it was like a warm breath on his cold heart. She boldly offered herself to him, but the timing still wasn't right. Discussing his past with her had tarnished the evening, and he wanted nothing more than for their first time together to be perfect.

The nights passed until he could stand it no longer. Fenris sat on the bench in her foyer, picking at the chew marks in the wood from Jaeger, Hawke's mabari. His heart began to speed up at the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his courage. Her sweet voice called to him from the doorway; the sound of his name from her lips calmed his nerves instantly.

"I have been thinking of you," he admitted to her. "In fact I've been able to think of little else." He approached her with a hunger he'd never felt before. "Command me to go, and I shall."

Whatever words she had spoken were lost to him now. Her arms around him and the warmth of her mouth on his were all he cared to remember of that moment. He looked at the wall where he'd pressed so tightly against her in his need, the taste of her lips from their first kiss still a warming memory. "Hawke," he called her name as if she'd answer, hanging his head in despair.

A cold nose began pushing at his hands, and Fenris fell into his now normal routine. Jaeger welcomed him home in silence, seeking what little attention the warrior would give. A soft whine meant that the dog shared his pain, missing Hawke just as much. A few scratches behind the ear, a shared moment of longing, and then Fenris stood and followed the hound towards the kitchen to prepare their meal.

He lit a few candles in the estate as the sun disappeared behind gray storm clouds amassing outside the windows. Eventually he would have to purchase more candles, as well as re-supply the now empty larder. He briefly regretted his decision to allow Orana a change in positions as he studied the condition of the kitchen. Dishes were left uncared for. Herbs had turned brown from lack of water and attention. The floor remained unswept; his bare foot prints smearing the dirt alongside Jaeger's paw prints.

Hawke would cringe if she saw her home in this condition; he knew this, and scolded himself for allowing it to become so disordered and filthy. Jaeger continued to eat as Fenris began gathering the dishes, placing them carefully in the washbasin. Once completed, he took the last of the clean towels and dried them, before opening the cupboard to put them away.

His heart tightened in his chest as he saw the tea cup on the shelf, and suddenly he could barely breathe. If that cup was on a table, Hawke was right beside it. Fenris couldn't recall a time when she didn't have tea near at hand; it was a symbol of her. So much so that he had never seen her cup in the cabinet, and to see it there now, tucked away and abandoned, brought his anguish and pain roiling to the surface again.

Jaeger's head snapped to attention as the cup shattered into pieces against the wall. It wasn't enough to calm him however, and Fenris continued shattering plates and glasses. The hound barked at him in protest as yet another plate hit the wall, but Fenris could hear nothing above the pounding in his chest. It was all meaningless; this room, her things, none of it mattered without her, and he'd rather see it all destroyed than be reminded of her again.

Systematically now he tore through the estate, violently releasing his torment on her possessions. Wine bottles broke, decorating the walls as she loved to tease him. He fought the smile that rose at the memory; it brought him no comfort and he continued on his rampage. Statues were heaved from their pedestals and smashed in chalky bits on the floor, pictures were torn from the walls, their frames splintered and twisted, chairs, sofas and desks all overturned in a lyrium-lit frenzy that he could not, would not control.

Where was she?

He bellowed his rage to the empty mansion as his back arched and his markings burst more brightly blue from the torment of losing her. He'd lost his Hawke.

"Where are you?!" he howled.

Fenris spun and stalked to the stairway, intent on more destruction. He was, however, not allowed to continue further. Jaeger stood in front of him and growled, baring his teeth in a clear warning.

"Out of my way," Fenris snarled back, but it had no effect on the mabari. Venhedis! Whatever he had planned on doing to Hawke's room, and even to her dead mother's room, Jaeger was not going to allow it.

As Fenris was about to fight with the hound over dominance of the second floor, the front door opened, startling them both. Fenris knew he had locked the door when he came in, and immediately he was on high alert. Markings still bright with rage, Fenris moved towards the foyer and grabbed the intruder by the neck.

"I see you are still angry about our last encounter," Zevran barely choked out the words as Fenris' grip grew stronger.

But Fenris was so lost in his fury that his only thought was to kill whoever had dared entered his lover's home.