In another world he was a rebel. A friend and adviser to Mythal, despite the fact that she didn't need it.
In another world she was a scholar. Uninterested in politics as long as Dirthaman allowed her to continue learning.
In another world he was brute force given form, mastering the game that the nobility play and the dangerous dance of a soldier of Elvenan.
In another world she was subtlety given form, mastering the nuances of magic and learning the history of her home.
If they had met in the other world they would have been a formidable couple.
However, fate was not kind, they did not meet in this world.
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In this world he was a destroyer. An enemy and traitor to the now disbanded Inquisition, he would remember them even if they hated him.
In this world she was a leader. The Inquisitor, once the bearer of the stolen mark.
In this world he was a myth long forgotten, in his time here he mastered the guise of an apostate and the language of the shemlins.
In this world she carried the mark of Dirthaman, in her time here she mastered the subtle ways of fighting and the fractured language of her people.
They met this time. And they were a formidable couple.
It was a surprise even to fate when he chose duty over her.
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In the next world he will be a guide. A helping hand to shape the world he created from the bones of the other.
In the next world she will be mercy. No longer mortal, she will guide the uncaring warriors and cold-hearted assassins to acts of kindness.
In the next world he will be burdened and lost. His guilt will have finally caught up to him.
In the next world she will be a ghost. Mercy knows its best to not disturb him, not until she can change her form to something other than the one who made her real.
Careful avoidance from the spirit's side make sure that he never sees her face.
Fate looked at this with a frown and saw to it that Lavellan would appear alive in the next world.