[ Well, the first thing Hawke notices is that everything here is absurdly familiar. She's been here before, she thinks -- or remembers? And she knows these doors, knows this rug, knows this foyer like every inch of her body. She looks across into the house and she sees a desk and she knows if she went to that desk, there would be messages waiting for her. If she opened up the drawer, she would find assorted vials of ink and... poultices? Yes, because of the amount of times she stumbled in with a wound and waved off ... someone. Someone waiting to attend to her. No, it was fine, she just --
And there is Fenris and she isn't surprised at all to see him. She wonders how long he's been here. He could've just met her outside, she was only with... someone. Someone she can't place? Maybe she's thinking of earlier. No, he's speaking now and again she can't shake the feeling she's heard this all before. She tries to interject, ]
Fenris --
[ But it doesn't quite work and now she's feeling a little embarrassed. Does he want to tell her these things? Is he doing this on purpose? None of it matters, she wants to say, when the two of them could be so happy together regardless. She understands his hate, thinks it justified but it doesn't need to consume him. Not like this.
But then again, what does Hawke know? She barely knows the man, isn't sure why he's talking to her like this or where they are. Her priorities are warrants and Hokk, not... elves? Not love, as absurd it is to think.
He moves to leave and she isn't sure what makes her grab for him, makes her pull back but suddenly their positions are both familiar and unfamiliar. A shocked expression and wide eyes stare right at Fenris in response. Her heart pounds in her chest and her gaze drops to his mouth but, no. This isn't right. Or... is it? It certainly feels like something that should be done.
When she speaks, her voice is low and quiet, tone soft and affectionate despite her urge to be neutral here. ]
Fenris... I'm not sure this is the route you want to take.
II
And there is Fenris and she isn't surprised at all to see him. She wonders how long he's been here. He could've just met her outside, she was only with... someone. Someone she can't place? Maybe she's thinking of earlier. No, he's speaking now and again she can't shake the feeling she's heard this all before. She tries to interject, ]
Fenris --
[ But it doesn't quite work and now she's feeling a little embarrassed. Does he want to tell her these things? Is he doing this on purpose? None of it matters, she wants to say, when the two of them could be so happy together regardless. She understands his hate, thinks it justified but it doesn't need to consume him. Not like this.
But then again, what does Hawke know? She barely knows the man, isn't sure why he's talking to her like this or where they are. Her priorities are warrants and Hokk, not... elves? Not love, as absurd it is to think.
He moves to leave and she isn't sure what makes her grab for him, makes her pull back but suddenly their positions are both familiar and unfamiliar. A shocked expression and wide eyes stare right at Fenris in response. Her heart pounds in her chest and her gaze drops to his mouth but, no. This isn't right. Or... is it? It certainly feels like something that should be done.
When she speaks, her voice is low and quiet, tone soft and affectionate despite her urge to be neutral here. ]
Fenris... I'm not sure this is the route you want to take.