Can you imagine the years between Act 2 and 3 where Hawke and Fenris still clearly love each other but can’t act on it. Having to spend time with each other acting like nothing was wrong. All the longing looks, the sad smiles. Imagine them walking home from the Hanged Man together at arms length because any closer would be too much to handle, only to split off and return to their homes alone. Every time Hawke thinks she can move on she catches a glimpse of the favor around his wrist and the wound is reopened. They’re more than friends but not really lovers. Their love is requited and yet unrequited. The fire has nowhere to go, and so they’re consumed by it.
