An exhausted Hawke leaned heavily on Fenris as they made their way slowly across the room and back towards her bed. She considered it an accomplishment of sorts that she had made it to the bathroom, relieved herself and washed up without falling flat on her face. Truth be told, it was only because Fenris kept an arm around of her waist most of the way.

She paused to catch her breath and looked around the room. The armor stand caught her eye. That hadn't been here this morning.

"I didn't know we even had one of those," she said, lifting her chin in the direction of the stand.

"Varric said Bodhan found it in the cellar."

Hawke just looked at the armor stand and smiled. Glancing around the room, she looked for other signs. Fenris' greatsword leaned against the wall near the bedside table. On the table itself was his whetstone, red scarf and small Amell crest. Atop the small chest at the foot of the bed lay a new book. They were small things, but taken together they meant only one thing. She suspected that if she had the energy to check, she'd find the rest of Fenris' meager clothing in the armoire.

"So, "she said has she continued her slow march towards the bed," does this mean you'll be here in the morning?"

Fenris glanced down, surprised at the question. Andrea always caught him off guard. She could notice the smallest of changes, gather the tiniest bits of information and come to a conclusion that was, more often than not, correct quicker than any one he'd ever known. She'd asked him several times after their reconciliation to move in with her. Now that he had, he was uncertain how she would react. Gathering his courage, he offered her the truth,

"Yes."

"Good. I'm glad."

Fenris' mouth quirked in a small smile and he took Andrea's hand on his shoulder in his own and gave it a small squeeze. She leaned her head against his in reply.

The interminable length of the room traversed, Hawke gratefully dropped onto the bed with a loud sigh. She dropped her head to her chest and took several deep breaths while holding tightly onto the edge of the mattress. Fenris watched her, a frown on his face, as he knelt in front of her, his legs to either side of her knees.

Hawke smiled when she felt the warm weight of Fenris' hands cover her own. It was a simple and reassuring gesture. No response expected, just an undemanding reminder of his presence. She loved his tenderness in moments like these. Just as he simply sat with her after her mother died, now he remained still and patient, offering his calm strength while she recovered her wind.

Looking up, she tried to peer under the ever-present bangs. The others would scoff if she tried to tell them about this Fenris – quiet, patient, loving. All they saw was the fierce warrior with a broody temperament and sharp tongue. She'd gotten the receiving end of that biting tongue herself, from time to time, but she managed see it for what is was; a mask worn to protect him from a world he barely understood and felt he had no place within.

She caught his eyes and he graced her with the tiniest lift of his mouth, that small smile she loved so to see. Taking a deep breath, she turned her hands under his and laced their fingers together.

"Thank you."

"What have I done to deserve your thanks?"

"Oh, I don't know. Helping me just now. Being here. Saving my life. Little things," she said, shrugging one shoulder.

Fenris closed his eyes and hung his head. "I was…too slow. I should have…."

"No, Fenris," she interrupted. "Don't blame yourself. I'm alive and my mind intact because of you. If anyone is to blame here, it's me."

Fenris' head snapped up and he glared at Andrea. His markings glowed softly for just a moment. "No! Do not blame yourself," he said harshly. He took a shuddering breath and reached out to take Andrea's face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "A wise woman once told me that I cannot blame myself for someone else's actions, no matter how tempting it might be. We are neither of us at fault for...what happened," he said gently. "There is only one person to blame and he has gone to meet the Maker's judgment."

He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. "We will get through this, Andrea."

Tears rolled down Hawke's face as she lifted her head and buried her hands in Fenris' hair. Face to face, noses bumping together, Hawke looked into his eyes before she closed the space and kissed him, quick and hard. Leaning back and letting her hands fall, she pulled away from Fenris' hold.

She looked away, eyes unfocused and head turned up. Tears continued to stream down her face. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Coherent thought seemed out of reach as images from her ordeal flashed through her head. The memory of it was overwhelming. She shook her head, trying to chase away the sight.

His heart breaking, Fenris watched the woman he loved fall apart. He wanted desperately to reach out and take her in his arms but he was afraid. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her. When she began to shake, he threw off his indecision and enfolded her in his arms. She flinched, stiffening in his arms.

"Andrea, I am here. You are safe."

At the sound of his deep voice rumbling in her ear, Andrea crumpled in his arms and began to sob in earnest. Fenris shifted and climbed onto the bed next to her, guiding her to lie down next to him. Pulling her securely into his arms, he cradled her in his embrace while her weeping continued unabated.

He held her for what seemed like hours as she wailed against his chest. His own tears fell unnoticed as he stroked her back, offering what comfort he could even though her tears tore at his heart. When she pounded her fist against his shoulder and screamed, he let her, whispering to her in Arcanum.

"Non pudeat sit flere. Lacrimae, non infirmitate. Tu es ille fortissimus i novi."

Through it all it he held her, unflinching, until at last exhaustion took its toll and her tears subsided. She grew still and Fenris thought that perhaps she had cried herself to sleep. He stroked her head, tucking her curls behind one ear as he kissed the top of her head.

"You're wrong."

"About a great many things, I am sure, but what now?"

"I'm not strong. Far from it."

"You are. You are the strongest person I know," he said gripping her tightly. "You have survived so much. You will survive this as well."

"I'm afraid. All I can see when I close my eyes is his face. All I can hear is his voice, the voices of the others. Hear the sound of the c..cane whistling," she whispered, flinching as if struck. "Even with my eyes open, I can…feel…them.…"

"You are safe, Andrea. They can't hurt you anymore."

Hawke shook her head, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm afraid to go to sleep. They'll be there, in the Fade. Waiting. And they won't be alone."

A/N:

Non pudeat sit flere. Lacrimae, non infirmitate.. Tu esillefortissimus inovi = Do not be ashamed to cry. Tears are not weakness. You are the strongest person I know.

I'm using Google translate to find the Latin. Since I don't speak it, I have no idea how good of a job the site does. Good news is that so few people do speak it that I feel fairly confident that no one will notice.

Once again, I am gobsmacked at the response this is getting. Big thanks to those who've followed, alerted, reviewed and favorite since last time:Leeirane, NoMadKa, themusicalmuffin, Those who call me T.I.M, karenmr63, Mirima, KnifeEdge, Nina Urufu, Kendral,and Tierney Beckett