Hawke couldn't remember the last time she'd cried. Not when Father had died, for she had to be strong for her family. Not for Carver or Bethany, lost to darkspawn, lost on the run, there hadn't been time to mourn. But not this time. There were no looming threats of death upon a moment of weakness, no loved one she needed to be strong for. This time, Hawke was alone in the world. She threw all her uncle's words back at herself. It was her fault, if she'd been faster, if she'd been home, she must have been able to do something. But there was nothing. Mother... Mother was gone, and she was alone.

The door opened at the same time Hawke's head fell to her hands and she sighed in defeat. She knew who it was without looking, however, as his bootless feet made little sound. Both of them knew that words held little value at such a time, but she still tried. It did little good aside from hearing his voice, soothing on her heart however little comfort it gave. Despite everything, she loved him. Though she knew well his aversion to touch, she could not stop herself from gripping his hand when he sat next to her, a lifeline in the dark place she was wading through. He flinched slightly, but seemed to understand and she brought their intertwined hands to her face to rest her cheek on them. They sat in silence for many long moments, and Fenris didn't say a word when he felt his fingers grow moist.

It was hard for Fenris to watch the strongest woman he'd ever known in pain like this, and to know there was almost nothing he could do for her. He felt a strange sense of kinship with her now, they were together...in being alone. There was so much he wanted to do for her, so much he was still afraid to. Touch still terrified him, he both wanted to touch and to shy away. It was a complicated and frustrating situation, but for Hawke, at this moment, touch was what she needed.

He silently brought his free hand around to caress her cheek, and ran his fingers down the side of her face. She leaned against his hand and closed her eyes. It was so difficult to see such an influential woman in such pain, and despite her pain she did not weep or sob, but rested on him and relied on his comfort.

"Hawke," His voice crackled slightly from so long in silence, "sleep would do you good."

She looked at him, and the pain in her eyes and the slight redness around them sent pangs to his heart. "I don't want to sleep, Fenris. I don't want to dream."

Fenris disentangled his hand from hers to rest it on the back of her head as he kissed her forehead before he stood. He began the slow task of removing his gauntlets and armor. "If you sleep, I will stay until you wake."

Without the metal and spikes he was a much less intimidating figure, and when he sat on her bed Hawke rested her head in his lap and collected herself against the rest of him, his back to the headboard. She shed no more tears, but closed her eyes as he ran his gloveless fingers through her hair. Perhaps it wasn't so bad, this touching.

"Do you think she's with the Maker now?" Hawke's soft voice called back his wandering mind

"I think Sebastian would tell you so. There are not many as deserving of His side as your mother is, Hawke. She was a good woman, a good mother."

"She was a good mother," she laughed lightly, "I remember once, when the twins were small..."

Fenris let her talk a while, share her stories and her pain. He had promised to stay until she woke, and stay he would, through tears or stories or sleep. He was hers again, for one night.