Hawke's room is bathed in the same warm glow as the rest of the estate, and he idly wonders why his own rooms seem grey and inhospitable even when his fireplace is filled with a roaring fire. Maybe it is imagined, the heat in body casting an illusion.

Fenris quietly closes the door behind them, his hand still in Hawke's. He is not a blushing virgin but he would forgive Hawke for thinking as much. He is hesitant, desperate to please and certain he is balancing on the edge of disaster but driven by desire to ignore the danger. He leads her to the bed, sits and pulls her to him again, a hand twisted in the front of her robes to tug her down into a kiss. The stretch of the fabric paired with the angle allows him to see the swell of her breasts. Most female mages in Tevinter wear robes exclusively, carefully pulled in to show the curve of their hips and often leaving little to the imagination - particularly at parties. Hawke wears armor and heavy fabrics that hide the shape of her body and don't shout mage. It feels sacred to be able to see her without that.