A/N: So this concludes my Mark of the Assassin quartet, this final story being completely AU. (It took the majority of a 10 hour long drive to write it, and it wound up being 9 and a half pages and about 6k words. Overall, probably one of the best of my stories. Just saying. xP). Anyway, thanks for bearing with me while I was away.

So, since Hawke was unconscious for the majority of this chapter, I skipped into a couple other characters' heads, and frankly, that was a ton of fun. I think I might explore the BethanyxCullen pairing at some point. What do ya'll think of that?

Anyhow, this is mostly unedited, but hopefully I'll come back to it. Like I'll come back to the rest of my stories, ha. Anyway, please enjoy!

So Hawke thrust this journal in my hand and practically commanded me to continue writing this little "quartet" she was working on. I am not sure why she was so eager to have this here; I turned her down at first, but eventually I gave in. She did have a few submissions to this chapter (as did a couple of our other friends, which I think you'll enjoy), but the majority of this is my work. Enjoy.

~Fenris

MotA: The Subsequent Events

With movements as swift as a viper, Fenris reached out and caught Hawke almost as soon as he saw her eyes roll back into her head. Bethany uttered a sharp gasp, and even Isabela looked rather startled.

"Hawke," he hissed urgently, concerned and confused; what had happened? He shook her gently, but she didn't respond. She was clearly out cold. She was very pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on her upper lip. Her eyes flickered uneasily under their lids.

"Look," Bethany whispered, pointing a trembling finger at her sister's arm. Fenris's gaze fell to the indicated area, and he inhaled sharply with shock. Hawke's leather armor was punctured and torn, and blood spread rapidly along her upper arm. How had he not noticed? A memory leaped unbidden to his mind then, and he recalled seeing a gray-faced Hawke speaking with Tallis, one hand pressed against the opposite arm. He wanted to shut his eyes and berate himself for not seeing earlier, but he knew he had to act quickly now. He laid her on the ground and, with practiced movements, unstrapped her armor, revealing her bare, bloody arm. Bethany hissed through her teeth and knelt beside him, reaching out to probe the wound gently. There were distinct teeth marks that punctured through her skin and muscle, almost down to the bone, and the skin was completely torn, leaving a gory mess. Fenris knew, instantly, what had happened: the wyvern had bit her.

And even worse...

"It poisoned her!" Bethany realized aloud, her almond eyes wide with horror and panic.

"You're the mage, can't you do anything about it?" Fenris snapped back, his own fear for Hawke piercing his chest like a sharp dagger.

"Right. Poison. Umm..." Bethany rocked back on her heels, her expression still panicked, but she shut her eyes and visibly tried to relax. Fenris forced himself to stop glowering at her. His anxiety was mounting, twisting his stomach into knots and sharpening all his perceptions and emotions. Fury mixed with panic and fear boiled within him, but, gritting his teeth, he pushed the feelings down.

"Maker's breath, are you two just going to sit around like rejected whores?" Isabela snapped, rolling her eyes and crouching next to them, pushing the other two out of the way.

"That means a lot, coming from you," Bethany commented dryly, but she moved willingly. Fenris glowered resentfully at Isabela before retreating to Hawke's other side.

With deft movements, the pirate snatched a rag out of her pack, dumped water from a water skin onto it, and proceeded to clean Hawke's wound. The small, injured rogue winced. The movement caught Fenris's eye, and he realized that Hawke was watching them with blue eyes dulled from the pain. He reached out and caught her hand. She smiled faintly and squeezed his hand, her grip weak, but Fenris was unable to mirror her smile. They both transferred their gaze back to Isabela.

The pirate now pressed an injury kit into Hawke's wound and bound it with tight bandages. A grimace flitted across her dull features, but otherwise she didn't complain.

"Fenris," she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak, "the poison..." Her gaze was pleading, and he could see agony whirling in her sensual blue eyes.

"I know," he told her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb and glancing over at Bethany so Hawke couldn't read his expression. "What do we do?" His tone was hard.

"There is a cure, but..." The mage sprung to her feet, pacing back and forth nearby, her expression pinched. "Remember how we looked for the ingredients to that potion, but we barely found enough to heal that Mabari? Those aren't exactly common, so we can't rely on any one of us finding enough within the next..." She paused here and glanced over at Hawke, calculating, before she went on, her words heavy, "...in the next two or three hours." They all knew what this meant, and the words traveled silently back and forth between the group: If we don't do something fast, she'll die. "In theory, I suppose, I could flush out the poison with my magic, but this kind of poison is too potent for a single mage, and I'd have to do it now before it spreads too far." She paused, turning an anguished glare up at the sky. "Oh, would that we were in Kirkwall right now..."

"Well, we're here, and we have to come up with something fast," Isabela growled, frowning up at Bethany. Bethany turned, a scowl on her lovely features.

"Fenris," Hawke whispered again while the other two women were distracted. When he turned back to her, her breathing was quick and shallow, and she was even paler than before. "Wyvern poison causes... hallucinations." Pain flickered across her expression mid-sentence, and he knew that she was still hurting, despite the bandage. Then the full weight of her words fell upon his shoulders, and his eyes widened minutely. He recognized fear in her expression and her breathing quickened even more than before. His grip on her hand tightened.

"Fenris." The elf turned to see Bethany watching him, her brows creased, but she appeared to be slightly more relaxed. "There is one thing I can do. There's this... spell... that can put her into a sort of coma, in a suspended state, and it should stall the effects of the poison for a few days. That would be enough time to get to Kirkwall so all the mages can heal her. If we take our time, though, the poison will sluggishly make its way through her system, killing her slowly and painfully. But if we don't dawdle..." Bethany paused, biting her lip before continuing. "She'll be completely unconscious until the spell releases her, and she won't be able to speak or move."

"Sounds like... wait- until the spell releases her?" Isabela stared at Bethany, her own brow furrowing. At Fenris's side, Hawke's muscles tensed, and her grip was suddenly vicelike upon his. But horror and unbidden hope kept his eyes trained on Bethany.

"I can put it on her, but there's no known way to end it. That's why we don't use this spell often. Usually the enchanted person wakes up on his own, but sometimes they never do," Bethany admitted. "It's a long shot, but if we can get her to Kirkwall and heal her, then hopefully she'll be able to wake up." All three of them fell silent. Fenris debated inwardly the pros and cons. The girls appeared equally conflicted.

"You said it slows the effects of the poison," Fenris finally said, his dark eyebrows knitted together as he thought, "and at this stage of the infection begins the hallucinations."

"I don't know," Bethany interjected, anticipating his question. Her eyes were dark with the awful weight of decision. "Whether the patient has dreams or not varies depending on the circumstances. I think-"

Her words were cut off by a terrible shriek that rent the air, seeming to split the world in two. Fenris's gaze snapped down to Hawke; her eyes were wide with true terror and utter fright at something they couldn't see, her expression harsh, her teeth gnawing into her lips. Her grip was now bone-crushing.

"Do it now, Bethany!" he roared as Hawke's gaze passed sightlessly over him. She released his arm and began to writhe, her arms flailing, her back arching off the ground. He lunged closer to pin her shoulder to the ground, and Isabela did the same on the other side. Bethany watched, shocked, her mouth half-open and her eyes wide. At a sharp glance from the elf, however, she shifted into action. She grabbed her staff and aimed it at Hawke. A stream of violet light erupted from the end of the staff and flowed into the injured rogue. Hawke's seizure weakened before ceasing altogether, and her eyes fluttered shut. Her breathing deepened into that of a heavy sleeper. Fenris exhaled as his own muscles relaxed. Now, unconscious, Hawke's features had relaxed and she appeared smaller and more innocent than she ever did awake. He reached out and brushed the back of his hand across his cheek before sitting back and glancing at the other two. Both women were paler than usual.

"We'd better get moving, I guess," he finally stated to break the silence. With slow, gentle movements, he knelt down and gathered Hawke into his arms. He rose to his feet with surprising ease- Hawke was a very light woman.

"Right." The pirate queen's words lacked in their usual eloquence as she gathered up her things and strode over to the foot of the path that led down the mountain. The silent Bethany followed more slowly, leaving Fenris to take up the rear with his lovely burden.

They had been walking not fifteen minutes when they were intercepted by a familiar redhead. She stepped out of the brush in front of them, watching warily. Bethany instantly fell back a few steps so she stood just in front of Fenris, surreptitiously blocking Hawke from the redhead's view.

"Tallis," Fenris greeted her tersely, his emerald green eyes narrowing somewhat.

"Yes, it's nice to see you again too," Tallis said impatiently. "Where's Hawke? That was her scream I heard, wasn't it?"

"So what, sweetheart? You left," Isabela pointed out, arching a perfect brow. "You didn't need us anymore."

"No, but..." Tallis shifted sideways, attempting to peer around Bethany, but at Fenris's spectacular glower she subsided.

"Why do you care?" Bethany asked, the beginnings of a frown appearing at the corners of her lips.

"Well, I... I feel like I owe Hawke now, after what she did for me. Besides, she's a good person. She deserves help if she needs it. Where is she?" Tallis repeated. Bethany glanced back at Fenris and they locked gazes for the briefest moment before the mage nodded and stepped away. Tallis's odd, gray-green eyes fell instantly upon their fallen leader, and she gasped loudly. "What the- what happened?"

"She was poisoned by the wyvern," Fenris told her curtly, wanting to shield Hawke from the other elf's prying gaze. "Don't come any closer, assassin," he added when Tallis made as if to take another step. Her eyes widened and she lifted her hands in the air, but she stopped moving.

"Fine, fine. I understand why you don't trust me. But..." Tallis paused, leaning closer, her frown deepening. "I've heard that wyvern poisoning kicks in fast, and she looks like she's only asleep. Why...?"

"It's a long story," Bethany cut in. "We don't have the time right now. We have to get back to Kirkwall."

"I know a shortcut through the mountains and back to Kirkwall," Tallis offered, appearing relieved that she could be of some use. Obviously she wasn't quite used to associating with general company. "You can tell me on the way... if you want me to show it to you, that is."

Fenris, holding the feverish Hawke in his arms, knew that they didn't exactly have time to waste, and he didn't want to take the time to debate with his other two friends.

"Lead on," he told Tallis in a no-nonsense tone which was more directed at Bethany and Isabela than the other elf.

Hawke had few recollections of the journey back to Kirkwall. In this suspended state, she could hear and sense what was going on; but to her eternal annoyance and chagrin, she couldn't see or interact with her environment. In her moments of clarity, she recalled Bethany mentioning that particular aspect of the dream state, and while she appreciated the necessity of this, she still resented it. Maker's breath, Rathina, why didn't you move out of the way fast enough? she would snap at herself when she had enough presence of mind.

These moments of clarity were few and far between, however. She spent the rest of the time in her dream state wrestling with vivid nightmares and dreams, some of them so utterly terrifying that she trembled and sobbed inwardly, some of them so sweet that she felt her heart burst and passion race through her veins. Her dream state seemed to move in cycles: she would have a few moments of clarity before being assaulted by dreams of various natures which often led to extreme agony and then back to clear thought.

Sometimes she could even feel the poison. At first, pain clawed through the part of her identity that she knew was her left arm, even if it wouldn't respond to her attempts to move it. After a little while of this excruciating pain- minutes, hours, or days, she couldn't say- it moved farther up her arm to her shoulder, and her arm began to go numb. Now, not only could she not move it, she couldn't feel pounded through her veins at this injustice. It wasn't fair. Here she was, laying comatose (sprawled in Fenris's arms at first and then on the back of a horse, judging by the snatches of conversation she could detect from the others in between her murderous thoughts), while the others were probably walking and running and fighting and talking and eating and laughing...

The anger faded almost as soon as it had come, to be instantly replaced by misery and despair. I'm trapped here, I can't move, I just want to LEAVE this dream world... She could feel the poison making its way along her veins, and she knew all hope was lost if it reached her heart. If she died, how would Kirkwall fend for itself against Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino? What would all her companions do without her? ...What about Fenris?

Misery hardened into resolve. I can do this. I'll live, for Kirkwall, for my friends, for Fenris. She could feel a shiver run through the nerves of her comatose body at the thought of her elf. I'll pull through for him. I have to see him again.

And then a terrible weakness hit her, like a wave crashing over her head, pulling her under. Shadowy figures began to dance beneath her eyelids, taunting her, and she lost all awareness except for her dreams...

One does not usually see horses in Kirkwall. And when one does, usually it's some oblivious foreigner (most likely Orlesian) who thinks that horses will actually be useful in Kirkwall (which is completely ridiculous, because, as everyone knows, everything in Kirkwall is within walking distance). But if one paid enough attention in Hightown on a certain day, one could see the decidedly odd scene of a white-haired elf covered with blue markings leading a horse down the streets with the prone form of the Champion of Kirkwall on that horse's back.

That was certainly a day for gossip.

Fenris was not pleased by all the staring and murmuring. And definitely not by all the crowding in the street. Once the townspeople realized that he had a horse, however, they often shifted out of the way, with the exception of a few sneering nobles. He wasn't in the least ashamed to admit that he threatened those few nobles with his sword and the wrath of Lady Hawke.

Tallis and Bethany he had sent off to the Gallows to (hopefully) get more mages to help heal Hawke. If that fell through, though (and despite how he loathed having to beg the abominations for help), he sent Isabela to find Anders and Merrill.

With the horse's reins in one hand and the key to Hawke's mansion that she had given him in the other hand, he managed to get the door open. When Bodahn appeared in the doorway, the elf thrust the horse's reins at him before reaching up and gently lifting her up off the horse's back and into his arms.

"Hawke has been injured," Fenris informed a startled Bodahn. "Help has been sent for. Put that horse away... please. My apologies for the inconvenience, but speed was of the essence," he added as an afterthought. Bodahn bowed before hurrying away with the horse. Fenris carried Hawke into the mansion, shutting the door behind him.

"Mistress!" Orana hurried right over to Fenris as soon as he started for the stairs. She hovered at his elbow, peering anxiously down at Hawke before bursting into tears of hysteria. Somehow, Fenris managed to calm her down without losing his temper. He carried Hawke up to her room and instructed Orana to change her into a nightgown. Fenris returned to pace impatiently around the main entryway.

Isabela was the first to return with Anders and Merrill.

"May we go see her?" Merrill asked quietly, watching Fenris with wide eyes, obviously frightened. He nodded once, and Merrill and Isabela started for the stairs. Fenris caught Anders by the arm. The abomination swung around to glower at him.

"If you harm her in any way," Fenris threatened quietly, his eyes narrowing.

"If I were you, I wouldn't worry about the mage harming her. After all, she got injured on your watch," Anders sneered, shrugging off Fenris's arm and striding up the stairs.

Fear raged through Hawke's mind. She was more aware now than she had been yet in her dream state; she was laying on her nice, comfy bed now, she knew, wearing little else than a flimsy nightgown (thanks to Orana, who had been hysterical the whole time she dressed her mistress). But the poison, she knew, had worked its way farther through her body. Now not only was her left arm numb, but both legs were now completely unfeeling, and she was aware of the poison creeping up her right arm. And it hurt like hell. She had never felt anything nearly as painful as this. Even the time she had been severely injured by the Arishok, and the broken bones she had received during training in the army, and even one time accidentally drinking weak poison didn't amount to anything this painful. The only pain she had ever experienced that came even remotely close was when Fenris had left her after their first time together. And that had been a sudden pain, a searing through her chest; this poison was a slow, creeping, prickling, acidic pain that only ever grew worse. She wanted to wake up and scream her heart out because it hurt so bad, like someone was slowly burning her to death, but her body refused to respond. Total misery rolled through her, but she could only hold on and hope.

"Is she crying?" She faintly heard a voice ask. She identified the speaker as Anders. Rage boiled through her again, and she wanted to draw back her fist and punch him; why was Anders in her house? There was only one explanation: Fenris had let him in. This whole situation must be more dire than I thought... But she trusted Fenris to her last breath, and she knew he would work to keep her alive until she drew that last breath. She felt the grief and the anger fade away as if they had been peeled back like the layers of an onion, to be replaced by a gentle warmth in her chest. Thoughts of Fenris and his gentle green eyes accompanied her as she sank back into oblivion.

"I'm sorry, Fenris!" Bethany was standing in front of the elf, her shoulders bowed and head low, the picture of shame and grief. "Meredith wouldn't allow anybody else to leave, so the Knight-Captain had to sneak me out..." She glanced beside her where the stolid form of Knight-Captain Cullen stood.

"In that case, thank you." Fenris inclined his head to Cullen, who just shrugged his shoulders and shifted somewhat awkwardly.

"It was the least I could do. Despite Meredith's beliefs, I don't want the city to lose its greatest symbol of hope," he replied, his lips thinning slightly. Fenris knew that Hawke disliked templars in general, but they had both agreed a while back that Cullen wasn't all that bad. He turned back to Bethany.

"Isabela brought Merrill and the... erm, Anders, so hopefully you three will be enough, since you couldn't get any of the Circle mages to come." He disliked the idea of two apostates- one possessed by a "spirit" and the other a known blood mage- healing his love, but he definitely preferred this over her death. Bethany's almond eyes flickered in acknowledgment of his omission, but luckily she didn't point it out aloud. Good thing sensibility seemed to be a recurring trait in the Hawke family.

"I hope you're right," Bethany said instead, her lips pulling down as she brushed her hand across her face. She started for the stairs. Fenris turned to follow her, but the Knight-Captain cleared his throat in an obvious manner, so the elf turned back to face him, lifting a dark eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I will have to accompany Enchanter Hawke," Cullen stated, but he appeared to be genuinely apologetic.

"No need to be so formal, Cullen," Bethany commented, and Fenris realized that the mage had paused on the stairs. "I'm sure Fenris understands." The elf was startled to see amiability glittering in those almond eyes, and this time it was his turn to clear his throat. An obvious flush crept up both Bethany and Cullen's cheeks, and all three ascended the stairs once more.

"So... you're saying that the three of you alone can't draw the poison out of Lady Hawke," Cullen stated, looking somewhat confused. The mages had been debating for several minutes now, and it was becoming more confusing with every passing minute.

"We need more help, but we don't have time to find any more mages," Anders replied, rubbing a weary hand over his forehead. He, Merrill, and Bethany all stood around Hawke's bed while Cullen stood in the corner near the doorway. Isabela and a strange red-haired elf Cullen had never seen before stood next to the door to what was obviously Hawke's closet. Fenris sat in a chair by Hawke's head. He held her hand, stroking her hair, but at Anders's words he looked up.

"There has to be something you can do," the elf said hoarsely. Cullen's gaze scanned Fenris's expression; the warrior was obviously very exhausted, but there was a fiercely determined light in his eye, his refusal to give up. That must be what it feels like to be in love, Cullen realized- refusing to give up, supporting your love no matter what. His gaze inadvertently slid sideways to Bethany, and he had to bite his tongue to suppress the rush of blood in his cheeks when her lovely almond eyes met his sea green ones. He saw curiosity and exhaustion in hers, but the same light shone in her eyes as what Cullen had observed in Fenris. As a matter of fact, now that he looked closely, he could see that all Hawke's companions wore the same expression with varying degrees of intensity. It was rather dizzying, seeing all these completely different people rally around this one small, fierce woman, this woman who had been inadvertently thrown into the grueling position of linchpin, keeping together her small band of misfits as well as all of Kirkwall. It was completely amazing, and Cullen almost felt disappointed that he couldn't be a part of this group. But he had other duties to perform, no matter his feelings for either of the Hawke sisters, especially Bethany...

"Well... there is... one thing. But... she wouldn't like it." The young elf girl Merrill spoke quietly with nervous breaks between her words.

"Come on, kitten, you can tell us," Isabela coaxed. "Anything to save Hawke."

"I promised her I wouldn't, though," Merrill insisted, wringing her hands, her already large green eyes growing wider. Suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, and it was confirmed by the varying expressions of mistrust and disapproval in the misfits' faces.

"You have to try it," the redheaded elf insisted, speaking for the first time since Cullen had entered the room. "You have to save Hawke! If you don't..." She let the sentence hang. Fenris bowed his head. Bethany turned to Cullen, her gaze pleading.

"Cullen," she entreated him quietly, "please... it's my sister..."

He hesitated, but all the misfits were watching him now. He knew that all of them except maybe Bethany viewed him as an intruder, one who doesn't belong, and he knew they wouldn't hesitate to cut him down if he threatened to imprison them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said finally, lifting his chin and taking the appropriate stance of a templar on duty. "I don't see any fishy business." He caught a glimpse of Bethany's small, pleased smile as she turned back to the others.

"Okay, Merrill, Anders and I will start funneling the spell, and then you go ahead," Bethany directed. "Don't get too... caught up."

"I won't," Merrill promised, her expression hardening into one of determination as she drew a knife from her robes. She gripped it tightly in her right hand and positioned the blade over her left hand. Bethany and Anders met each other's gaze before nodding at the same time and holding their hands over Hawke's prone body.

"Three... two... one."

Light exploded behind Hawke's eyes. Pain blasted through her nerves- all of them, the numbness disappearing instantly from her extremities. She yelled in agony, and whether her cries were aloud or in her head, she couldn't tell, but she didn't care, oh, it hurt so bad... She felt like she was being electrocuted, burned, beaten, drowned, starved, and poked with a thousand needles all at once, and the colors flashing behind her eyelids didn't help. Visions from her earlier hallucinations returned in full force, each one slamming her mind and jarring her brain, so she couldn't think. It seemed to last forever, and all she could do was sob, and think of Fenris, and hope it would end...

"It's... done..." Bethany gasped out a while later. Fenris estimated three or four hours had passed while the mages worked on Hawke; his muscles were stiff and there was a crick in his neck when he straightened, stretching his spine. Isabela and Tallis were sitting on the floor, the former with her head resting on the shoulder of the latter, but both rogues rose to their feet at Bethany's words. Merrill leaned against the wall, panting heavily, and even Anders appeared to be worn out. He reached over to Merrill and took her bleeding hand, and when he moved away, her hand was whole again, but exhaustion was still forefront in her eyes.

"When will she wake up?" Fenris asked, turning back to Hawke and brushing a lock of hair out of her face. The fever was gone and the pain seemed to have left her expression. Now she appeared to be just another sleeper.

"I don't know," Bethany admitted, suppressing a yawn. "But- with Cullen's permission, of course- I'll try to come by later to see how she is. She should wake up soon, though. She just needs to rest."

"Come on, kitten, I'll walk you home," Isabela said to Merrill, reaching for the exhausted young mage. She looped an arm around Merrill's waist and glanced over at Tallis. "You can come with me, if you like."

"I think I will," the redheaded elf agreed with a grateful smile. She glanced over at Fenris. "May I return tomorrow as well?"

"If Hawke is awake and she agrees to see you, then yes," he acknowledged, inclining his head to her.

"Good night, Fenris," Merrill yawned, waving at the other elf.

"Erm... good night. And... thank you," he added, glancing first at Merrill, then Bethany and Cullen, and finally at Anders. The abomination just waved and departed, followed by Isabela, Merrill, and Tallis. Finally it was just Bethany and Cullen remaining in the room with Fenris.

"Fenris... I didn't have time to tell you beforehand, but there is something you should know." Bethany had moved closer to him, tilting her head back slightly so she could look him in the eye. She was taller than her sister, an idle part of him noted. He just lifted an eyebrow. "Usually this spell... it... you know... changes people. It's not usually a big difference, but Rathina won't be the same person when she wakes up. Many scholars..." She hesitated before going on. "Many scholars attribute its effects to those similar of post-traumatic stress disorder. She's strong, so it shouldn't be too drastic, but still... Just keep an eye on her."

"I understand," he told her quietly. She smiled then, compassion brightening her features. To his utter shock, she reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. There wasn't any sign of lust or other ulterior motives, just a genuine kindness and faith in her eyes.

"I know," she replied. "She loves you a lot, Fenris. You're like a brother to me. I trust you to take care of her." She removed her hand and moved away. "I'll see you later. Give Rathina my love when she wakes up," Bethany added confidently before turning to the doorway. She and Cullen exited the room quietly, though Fenris didn't notice. He had already turned back to Hawke, but it was a week before she finally woke up.

Fenris woke with a start when he felt something lightly brush against his hair. He sat up, at the same time reaching up to his scalp to grab whatever it was that had been touching his hair. He caught a slender wrist and small but equally slender fingers. He blinked and realized that Hawke was awake and gazing up at him with those startling blue eyes of hers. She smiled gently at his surprise, winding her fingers through his and bringing them to her lips. He realized that he had fallen asleep in the chair beside her bed with his head resting on her mattress; he reached up ruefully to rub his sorely protesting neck.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked her, still feeling a little befuddled.

"Not very long," she replied with an airy shrug. Her voice was hoarse, as it had been last time he had spoken with her, but the pain had mostly faded from her expression. There was still perhaps the faintest ghost of it in her eyes, but she didn't seem too fazed by it. "You know you don't have to sleep in the chair," she added with weak amusement. "The bed's big enough for the both of us, even if all we do is sleep." He chuckled and obediently rose to his feet, moving around the bed and climbing in next to her. She pulled his arm around her shoulders and snuggled up against his chest, sighing wearily.

"How long was I out?"

"It took three days to get you back to Kirkwall, and after Bethany and the others... healed you, you slept for another week," he told her quietly, squeezing her gently. He was so glad to see her again, but he knew he had to be gentle. He didn't want to hurt her.

"I see," she said after a moment.

"Bethany came in to check on you every day, accompanied by Knight-Captain Cullen," Fenris hastened to inform her. He refrained from telling her, however, how forlorn Bethany had grown when Hawke did wake up right away. She seemed to sense this, though, for she sighed again and buried her face in his chest.

"I didn't mean to make anybody worry," she finally murmured, turning her cheek so he could hear her, "but I just didn't want to wake up. It was so scary in there... and I couldn't move at all... and it hurt so bad..." Her words drifted off, and he was startled to see genuine fear in her eyes. Not the artificial fear brought on by the hallucinations, but instead, something she was truly afraid of.

"Hey, it's okay. You're awake now," he assured her, gathering her closer to him. He knew that she had been under a lot of stress lately, and if he'd had to deal with Meredith and Orsino, he probably wouldn't want to wake up, either.

"I love you, Fenris," she said after a moment. Her exhaustion worked through her tone, but it didn't hide the warmth there. "You were the only reason I pulled through, you know. I almost let it take over me-" he didn't ask what 'it' was, he wasn't sure he wanted to know- "but then I thought of you, and I knew I had to come back."

"I love you too, Hawke," he told her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Although I don't think I'll be able to have a good night's sleep ever again," she mused regretfully. She shook her head with a wry smile, as if to banish the thoughts. "Go to sleep, Fenris. I'll still be here when you wake up." His arms tightened around her as he drifted off again.