Chapter 2: Weather the Storm


Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

Trials 1:10


Sera let out a low whistle as another big, gorgeous Avvar lass wandered past with a monster of a broad-axe hanging off her shoulder. Andraste, they really knew how to grow them down here.

"Ahem."

She glanced over at the sound, grinning when she saw Elisabeth looking pointedly at her own dinner as she waved her hand at Sera's face, so Sera's eyes would be drawn to the silvery-white band of metal around her third finger.

"Are you actually jealous?" she laughed, shoving Elisabeth playfully. "Frigging adorable. Love you and all, but I'm not dead. I mean, have you seen these girls? Woof."

Elisabeth rolled her eyes dramatically and shoved Sera back with her shoulder. "Here's hoping our business never takes us to Par Vollen." Mmm. Now there was a thought that deserved a few minutes of thinking about.

Sera just grinned all the wider when Elisabeth made a little exasperated noise, like she was actually cross. "C'mon, Tadwinks," she wheedled, pressing in close and leaning up to kiss Elisabeth on the cheek. "Let a girl dream. Might get a girl in the mood for a bit of fun even though this is the soggiest end of nowhere you've taken us yet."

Elisabeth snorted. "Eat your supper, sweet talker. Wouldn't do to accidently slight their hospitality before they let us talk to the thane."

Pleased that Elisabeth stayed nice and close while she talked, Sera dug back into her bowl of weird stew. It was sort of like Ferelden food, if you squinted, which was at least a step up from all the poncey Orlesian pish they kept trying to push on her back home.

Much as she wasn't kidding about the Basin being at the arse end of nowhere, it was sort of nice to be out in the world again. They'd hung back 'round Skyhold for months after all the rubbish in the Deep Roads, since the people who give orders all hit the roof when news of Elisabeth's injury reached them. Being still was alright for a while; waking up in a nice bed with a naked girl every morning was hard to sneer at, after all. The quiet gave Sera the chance to get in touch with all the Jennies scattered across the South. They were even starting to look like a genuine organization now. Weird.

But their mates had started drifting away one by one; Varric spending more and more time in Kirkwall, Dorian taking months long trips back to Tevinter, Beardy wandering off to join the Wardens for real. Cassandra and Vivienne were already busy being important nobs in Val Royeaux, so it was just Bull and Creepy Cole left to play with now. Not that there was much playing to be done 'round here, by the look of it.

"Do the Avvar have nobles?" Sera wondered aloud, taking another bite. "Haven't seen any that look the bit, and they're usually all over you when we get somewhere."

"You know, I'm not sure," Elisabeth replied thoughtfully. "I thought at first that 'thane' might be their word for lord, but they don't seem to be organized that way." She set aside her empty bowl and stretched her arm across her chest. "It's rather refreshing, actually. We've been in Orlais for entirely too long."

Sera snorted. "No nobles, nice looking girls, decent food. Something's got to be wrong."

"Such a pessimist." Elisabeth flashed her a big, easy smile and dropped an arm about her shoulders. "Why can't it just be a routine diplomatic trip where we get some fantastic demon-hunting toys at the end? Surely we're owed one by this point."

Sera squirmed a little under the weight of her arm, mostly for show before she relaxed against Elisabeth's side. She was as warm and solid as she ever was, easy to hold on to in the weird, cold damp of the air. Easy to ignore the cold, sticky unease on her insides with.

Something was off about this place, and she'd been around long enough to know no one was owed anything.


The hike back up the hill from the Avvar priest's cave unsettled her further. The words the woman had said were fine; weird, but fine. But the way she said them felt familiar. Bad familiar.

Creepy was giving her the eye as they walked, tilting his head like he was listening for something. For some reason or another Elisabeth really seemed to like the weirdy, so Sera tried not to say things about him. Or near him. Elisabeth and Bull were walking up ahead of them talking about something, so they weren't likely to notice the look and step in to save her. Didn't matter, she could handle it herself.

Pricks, she thought loudly. Pricks, pricks, pricks. A great big bag of hairy, veiny pricks.

"I don't like when you do that," Cole said, grimacing.

"That's why I do it," Sera replied matter-of-factly.

"Why don't you think of the kind you like?"

"Do I even want to ask?" Elisabeth interjected over her shoulder, slowing her step with a skeptical look.

"Like you don't already know the answer to that," Sera replied sweetly. Elisabeth rolled her eyes and patted Cole on the arm. Sera craned her neck to get a look at where Bull'd gotten off to. "Who's the big guy talking to?"

"The huntmaster," Elisabeth replied. "Getting the details on that offering the priest wants us to gather. With any luck, the beasts are on the way to that fisherman's place the thane mentioned. I'm going to go pay my respects to the poor man's son, if you two can manage to behave for a few minutes." Now it was Sera's turn to roll her eyes.

Creepy wandered off after a minute or so, which freed Sera up to follow after Elisabeth. She lingered outside the door of the thatched hut, leaning casually against the wall and listening to the conversation inside. The boy sounded like a bit of a tosser, but she supposed it was probably no walk in the woods to lose a father or whatever. Like she really knew.

"Inquisitor, I'm honored by your visit. I'm Finn Cal– um, Finn Caldansen. Forgive me if I don't stand to greet you properly."

"Don't worry yourself, lad. How were you injured?"

"A bad storm blew up a few months back; I was helping tie down the docks. I caught one of our fishermen, but the tide caught me. The leg never managed to set properly." Sera winced. Bad way for a hunter to hang his bow up for good.

"I heard about your father's burial," she heard Elisabeth say sympathetically. "And the offering. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"I tried," he said frantically. "I dragged myself from this cursed bed, but the pain…" He trailed off, sounding shamed. "The huntmaster found me after I collapsed. Said we didn't need another dead man."

"I think your father would agree with him, were he here."

"He won't be my father much longer, but yes." That was a weird thing to say. What did that mean? Elisabeth asked the question for her.

"I can't make the offering," the lad answered. "When the sky-burial's complete, I'll lose the right to bear my father's name."

Sera's blood ran cold in a way she hadn't felt in years. She knew what it took to sound so crushed down and ashamed of something. Knew it deep. She took the step into the doorway and spoke before she could think better of it.

"What the piss? 'Do this or you're the wrong kind of elf?'"

The both of them looked over all startled, but Elisabeth looked especially shocked. Sera didn't know why, she hadn't been extra sneaky standing outside or anything, she must've known…

Oh, frig, she thought as the l rolled off her tongue.

"Sera, what…" Elisabeth started. Frigging tits, Sera hated that tone. The 'what haven't you told me' hurt all muddled in with the 'I can fix this, let me fix this' rubbish that made Sera want to spit.

"Never mind," she bit out, nodding at the confused looking Avvar boy. "You help."

Sera turned on her heel and headed down the hill. Elisabeth was polite enough with strangers that she wouldn't be able to follow her for a few minutes at least. Maybe that would give her the time to find enough sense to forget what happened, because Sera sure as shite wasn't talking about it anymore.


The bowstring snapped out from her grip, slashing a line across her cheek and down her arm.

"Frigging shit," she swore, clapping a hand over her face even as the welt began rise. She hadn't messed up stringing her bow since she was thirteen, what the piss was wrong with her?

She laughed harshly at herself at the thought. She knew what was bloody well wrong.

That self-serving, too-smart-for-her-own-good, poncey git. Picking at things she had no sodding business with, then getting angry with Sera for it. Like it was Sera's fault in the first place.

The past was done. Talking about it did nothing, changed nothing. It was done and it was hers and she didn't owe anyone or anything an explanation about it, no matter how stupid and entitled they thought they were. All this did was prove that she was right the whole time, just too distracted by pretty words to notice what she knew to be true.

She grunted as she managed to seat the bowstring properly. Go on and let Elisabeth storm off hunting. Go on and leave her here with no one but Creepy and her own completely justified anger for company. Fine. She was always better on her own.

"But she loves you." Sera whipped around at the words, glaring right at the back of Cole's creepy head.

"It was so easy to start, water rising up around her ankles. Warm, exciting, like letting her feet hang off the edge of the quay as the ships came in. But she was wrong, you're not water."

"Shut it, you stupid thing," Sera snapped, turning her back on him and nocking an arrow while she looked for something of her own out in the wood to kill.

"You're fire, bright and hot and beautiful and she can't look away, doesn't want to even when getting closer hurts her. Burning when she reaches, deeper and deeper and she'll never stop. She'll keep trying until her hand turns to ash." Pissing Void, this was making Sera sick to her stomach.

"I said frigging shut –" she bit off the end of the yell when she saw him staring at her. His eyes were glowing.

"You hurt her," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Elisabeth is my friend and you hurt her." Sera knew it, she knew it was a frigging demon the whole time but would anybody listen to her? No. And now it was going to kill her. Well frig them all, frig everything, she wasn't going down without a fight.

Cole stopped reaching for his knife abruptly, and Sera let out a breath she didn't remember holding. "You're hurt, too," he said, like it was a surprise or something. "Sharp inside, memories don't fit into the life you've made." He tilted his head and looked like he was sorry for her.

"She smiles like Kal used to; fleeting, fearless, foolish like her jokes. But they took Kal away, the men who hurt you. Bloody knife-ears, always taking what doesn't belong to you. Pretty little thing, aren't you. Don't hurt her. Please, ser, she's just a child; my cousin's girl. My responsibility, my fault, mine. Take me. Take me."

Bride of the frigging Maker. The bow slid out from under her numbed hands, clattering on the wooden platform as Sera filled with so much rage that she could barely breathe. She wanted to pound his stupid, sickening face into mush. "Get out of my head!" she roared, taking a swing. He ducked it easy when it went wide, sorry expression never changing.

"The ground takes away the air, can't breathe, can't breathe, tastes like blood. No air in the nothing, just black and fear and no one. Kal is gone and there's no one left to save you. The lady tried but you made a wall and you ran." He paused to breathe.

"You shouldn't be afraid, this isn't the same. I used to be confused, too, but Elisabeth helped me understand. She wants to help you even more."

"I don't frigging need anyone's help," Sera snarled, shoving him back by the shoulders. "Not yours. Not hers. Not anyone's. And I don't care what in the ruddy, bleeding shit you are; you go in my head again and you're a dead thing."

"I made it worse," he mumbled to himself. "I always make it worse with you. Make more hurt, muddy the mire you hide down where no one will ever see. I'm sorry."

Sorry? Sorry? Sera scoffed loudly and stalked away, looking for her bow so she could go kill something already. But the creepy thing just kept following her.

"Elisabeth hurts, like you do, but different. Storming, seething, sinking, wrong words stinging as they left her tongue. She doesn't trust me, why doesn't she trust me, what else can I do? Won't change, never changes. I'm poison, ruin everything I touch. She's too clever not to see anymore."

Sera's head snapped around at that. Is that really what she thought? What the frigging piss

"Kid, what have I told you about pulling that head stuff?"

"Varric?" They both turned around to see the little weirdy fix Cole with a reproachful frown. "Why are you here?"

"Sparkles and I got back to Skyhold around the same time. We got the 'come get our asses out of the fire again' bird a couple days ago. Seriously, another dragon? I can't let you kids go anywhere." He looked between the two of them warily. "Is everything alright here? I feel like I'm interrupting a potential homicide, and I can't tell whose it is."

"It's fine," Sera barked, glaring at Cole when he opened his mouth to explain. Varric continued to look uneasy.

"Okay…" he trailed off. "Well, I ran into the boss-lady on the way up. She wants you down there for backup when they head over to the probably-haunted island, so you'd better head over to the wharf, Buttercup. The Kid and I are supposed to go talk to the local merchant. Apparently the only thing he likes more than spirits is Hard in Hightown. Go figure."

"Fine." Sera slung her bow over her shoulder and took off without another word. So what if she was too turned around to be properly angry anymore. At least there'd be things to kill now. It's not like they'd have to talk or anything.

It's not like Elisabeth would even want to, anyway.


The whole stupid island was just wrong.

One heel in the muck and she knew. It started out as a buzz behind her ears, humming up against her skull, but then it turned. She started smelling things. Things that weren't there. That couldn't be there.

The Denerim gutter after the rain, dog, soot, dank, piss. Stale, burnt bread, softening in sour wine. Parchment on the fire, parchment and scraps of something she used to know, because she had to be the proper sort of

"What the piss is happening?" she asked in horror as a sadness so deep that her bones felt old and tired made itself known in her head.

"It's the spirits," Dorian answered, shifting all around as he walked like something was crawling on him. "Influencing your mind, drawing sorrow from you like water from a well."

"They're in my head?" Andraste's frigging tits, hadn't she had enough of this for one day already? But it wasn't just hers, by the look of it. Dorian's twitching was getting worse, Bull kept twisting around, and jerking his head like he'd almost heard something far away. Elisabeth looked like she wanted to chuck her guts up, kept spitting on the ground like there was something foul in her mouth.

No, no, no…vhenan…I'm dreaming.

"Make it stop," Sera said frantically. "Dorian, make them stop. I can't…it won't –"

"There's a rift," Elisabeth cut in, rubbing at the marked hand. The last of the dying anger faltered at the sight. Magic around the rifts made it hurt, she'd told Sera once. Like pins dipped in vinegar. She'd never be free of it, that pain. The weight they'd put on her shoulders. The memories that scared her to tears in the night. Andraste, it hurt Sera to think about.

"Well let's deal with it and find what we're after so we can go already," Bull snapped, pulling his sword off his back. "Seriously, Boss; next place we go better have way fewer demons."

Elisabeth nodded weakly and spat again before leading the way up a dank, sandy hill. The ground slipped under Sera's boots and everything in the entire pissing world felt massive and futile.

There was a shack atop the hill broken near to splinters, dark and dripping in the fog. There was light behind it. Sick, Fade-green light. The words got louder as they drew near.

This blood…my blood? No, I can't…

The rift was wrong. Half-open, swirly, spitting off those little orange shadows. It made Sera think of a glass turned on its head.

"If you would, Elisabeth," Dorian prompted uncomfortably as they reached the edge of it. "Things will likely settle somewhat once we seal off the rift."

Sera watched her raise her hand, watched the wince as the magic locked and started buzzing between the mark and the rift. The light started to hurt Sera's eyes, then her ears when the shadows started screeching away until everything broke with a crack. A split in the world lurking like a spider under the glass.

Telana slept, the voice scratched in the back of her head. I slept. To find him, dreaming. But I…the blood. I'm, she's gone.

"Ameridan," Elisabeth breathed. "You were – she was trying to reach Inquisitor Ameridan."

"You can hear that?" Bull asked. "I thought…this doesn't feel like listening. Shit, this is creepy."

Ameridan, yes. Inquisitor. Beloved. I, she, came with Ameridan to hunt the dragon.

"What dragon?" Sera asked aloud, drawing the others' attention. "I'll take a frigging dragon over this any day."

"Dragon…" Dorian trailed off, straining to pick out another piece of the voice. "The Avvar were trying to bind one of their gods to a dragon. The Inquisitor must have come to stop them."

"Because of the emperor?" Bull whipped around again like he'd heard another noise. "It said they were here for Drakon. To save Orlais. This is so shitting weird; can someone please make it stop already?"

Elisabeth stayed stock still, staring at the rift. "Ameridan was here right as the Second Blight was beginning. This dragon would have broken Orlais before it even began. He must have died putting it down."

Yes, the not-voice crawled around under Sera's skull. If he had lived, he would have found her. Me. But he didn't, and no one ever knew. Alone, all alone in the murky dark waiting for something that could never come. How could everything smell like sadness? It stung in her eyes.

"Wait, wait, I heard something about where they went!" Dorian edged closer to the rift, scratching furiously at his arm. "River…metal spires…something about stopping the dragon. It's enough to work off of; for the love of all that is holy, Elisabeth, please."

Elisabeth was quiet for a minute, listening. "We'll find him," she said eventually. The words weren't right. Her voice was shaking like it did when she cried.

"You don't have to wait here anymore."

A breath of relief – the smell of trail dust and leather and cloves – before the sadness came crashing back. Elisabeth reached out her hand toward the rift again, but the magic felt wrong. She wasn't closing it, she was touching it. Andraste, why was she touching it?

Before Sera could say a word, everything exploded into light.

"Shit!" she hissed, throwing an arm up to save her eyes. Everything was brimstone and stinking magic and she heard a body crash backwards through the splintering ruin.


"Alright, that should do it."

Dorian pulled his hands away from where the gash on her arm had been, leaving a patch a pink skin that itched something fierce. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go take a bath for the next six months. Perhaps burn off all my skin. Maybe both, if I get ambitious."

He patted Sera hastily on the shoulder before turning back towards the camp. He might not have been kidding, judging the way he kept shuddering and scratching at phantom things not really skittering all over him. Bull hadn't been in a much better state when they got back, storming off to kill the piss out of swamp-things until he felt better. Sera scratched at the newly fixed skin on her arm and started wandering back towards the shore. Piss if she knew what to do now.

She just didn't have it in her to get twisted up again. Frig Cole and his creepy head-games, making her doubt rubbish she thought she knew. She wanted to forget what he said, but he'd gotten in there this time. She hadn't thought about that day in years, frigging years, and he pulled it out like it was nothing. And the last bit with Elisabeth, just…frigging, bloody, stupid shit.

She pushed a hand through her hair with a sigh, hesitating when the ground shifted into sand beneath her boots. All of this shite wouldn't be half as hard if she could just get that frigging smell out of her head.

On a whim, she started fidgeting with her belt pouch until she found her soap ration. It was pretty nice stuff, thanks to Josie and her annoying drive to manage every single pointless detail of the Inquisition. It smelled sharp and clean, like elfroot and flowers and home. And it made Sera think of another stupid, half-forgotten memory. At least this one might help, for once.

She squared up her shoulders and started walking again towards where Elisabeth was sitting, hunched over on herself right where the water met the land. She made sure to step heavily, so she'd be easy to hear. Elisabeth always stayed twitchy after fighting, and this wouldn't be any less awkward if she started stabbing things out of surprise. She straightened up as Sera got close. Probably recognized the footfalls. She was clever like that.

"Hey, you," Sera said. Elisabeth looked over with a wan smile as Sera sat down next to her. In rare show, she'd left the marked hand ungloved while she was brooding, and Sera tried her hardest not to stare at the light that was still crackling from it. "Catch."

The soap landed in Elisabeth's lap and she gave Sera a look of confusion. Sera shrugged and looked away. "Lady Emmald used to wash my mouth out when she caught me swearing. It's horrible, but you can't taste anything else for hours. Plus, bubbles."

Elisabeth made a short little almost laugh sound and things got quiet again. Sera didn't look over until she heard gagging.

"Oh, Maker, that's awful," Elisabeth choked out, spitting out white froth and flailing around for her waterskin. Sera giggled and passed it over.

"I know, right? Still can't say fuck without tasting lye."

Elisabeth washed her mouth out a bunch of times, even started hiccupping after a little while. Sera grinned when she laughed at the promised bubbles. Piss, it felt good to laugh again.

"Can we be done fighting?" she said without thinking, knowing it was the wrong thing to say right as Elisabeth's expression got hard and sad again.

"That's all up to you," she replied, shifting a little in the sand. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I pushed."

Piss. Sera sighed and scratched at the itch on her arm. "I'm sorry I pushed back," she admitted reluctantly. "Shouldn't have said the thing in the first place. Just sort of came out." She looked over at Elisabeth as she tried to organize her thoughts.

"I told you I was shit at this. I did. Most girls have the sense to leave by this point, yeah?"

"Well," Elisabeth answered with a little hint of a smirk. "I've often been told I'm a rather stubborn excuse for a woman." Sera almost laughed. She turned her head back towards the water when it was too hard to keep looking at her.

"Things are good, you tit. Can't we…can't it just stay that way?" Sera clenched up her hands as she tried to choke down all the feelings she was pissing sick of feeling already. "It wasn't always. It was bloody awful most of the time. I don't want that touching this. Us. You. That isn't wrong. It isn't."

There wasn't an answer right away. Only the shifty sound of sand sliding against itself. Well, that was that, then. Sera always did manage to break anything stupid enough to stick with her.

She shot stiff at the feel of someone sitting down behind her.

Elisabeth leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Sera, resting her chin on Sera's shoulder. She was warm and solid against Sera's back and here. Still here.

"It isn't," Elisabeth agreed softly. "It's not all the way right, either, but it's not wrong."

"What's right, then?" Sera asked, too shaky with relief to worry about how thin her voice sounded. Elisabeth snorted. "Piss if I know." Sera laughed and held on to Elisabeth's arms like they were the only thing keeping her down on the ground.

"Guess we'll have to figure it out."


Sera's feet slid out from under her as she swung herself up on the ledge, sending her crashing straight into a half-broken column. Frigging fantastic. She shook her head clear and spat out a mouthful of blood as she nocked another arrow.

Piss, even at a distance her fingers were going numb from the cold. She didn't know how they were even moving down there, let alone fighting. Dorian was locked in with one of their mage-y arseholes, so she twisted around and drew to free him up. Five arrows left.

Three more shots, three more dead gits. Each draw hurt more than the last, pulling further and further left as her arm started to give. The second split the leather on the fingertips of her glove, the third cutting deep into the skin. They'd better wrap this up soon, or she'd be down a hand.

She swore under her breath as the fourth arrow went wide, splintering apart on the stone floor behind where Beth and Bull had the last baddie cornered. He was a big one; what was left of the leader after all the magic, swiping the blows away from his body like they were nits. One last shot for the big finish, then.

Sera dropped to a knee and strung back her last arrow, whistling the call through her teeth. It hurt like shite to hold back in an overdraw, weight stacked against the muscles of her arm, string slick and barely holding in the cuts on her fingers, but she didn't have to wait long. Elisabeth dropped right on cue, burying her knife in the bastard's kneecap as Bull wailed into his back as hard as he could. Dorian's lightning held the bugger stiff, and Sera aimed at the empty space beside the helmet's eyehole and let go.

It punched right through his stupid head, and the thing collapsed in a heap on the icy ground.

"Frig, yeah!" Sera cheered loudly, punching the air with her bloodied hand. Smooth as frigging silk, just like always. When she jumped up to her feet, the room started wobbling. "Ow…" Maybe she'd hit her head a bit harder than she thought.

"Alright up there, my little imp?" Dorian's shape stood out a little against the shadows under her ledge as she started to work her way back to the floor.

"Piss off and give us a hand," she answered, yelping a little when her footing slipped again. Sodding frozen magic. Dorian managed to catch her halfway through the fall.

"I believe those two actions are mutually exclusive." If she felt better, Sera would've smacked him for talking down again. She did manage to flip him a rude gesture as he sat her on the ground, though. He laughed and took her chin is his hand, turning her head this way and that as he looked for hurts to fix. Sera winced at the crawly feel of magic on her insides and looked around the chamber for something else to focus on.

"What are they doing over there?" she asked, trying to crane her neck to see the platform Elisabeth had made her way up. Dorian pulled her head away before she could get a good look.

"Talking to Inquisitor Ameridan, I think. Hold still."

"Wait, you mean the git whose body we're here to get? The one who's been dead for eight-hundred years?"

"The very same. Stop squirming."

"Frigging magic," Sera growled. "I hate this place."

"I can't say this has been my favorite outing either," Dorian sighed, finally taking his hand away. "I've taken care of your hand, and your arm will be fine with a little rest. You also have a mild concussion and a broken nose, which I'll need to set before I can heal." Before she could protest, he made a grab for it.

"One, two…" There was a wet crunch and the world went red around the edges. The ground started rumbling around them, and Sera managed to get a watery look at the great frozen dragon becoming decidedly less frozen and breaking its way out through the cavern ceiling. At least the air outside was warmer than it was in here.

"Is everyone alright?" Sera looked back down when she heard the question, saw Elisabeth jogging over looking all worried. Prat.

"Scrapes and bruises, my dear Inquisitor," Dorian replied lightly, wiping the last of Sera's blood off on his already ruined robes. Elisabeth took one look at the mess and frowned, opening her mouth to ask more questions before she was cut off.

"That was really Ameridan?"

"Weird, right?" Bull answered for her, fastening his sword back over his shoulder as he came up to them. "He's definitely dead now, though. But man, oh man; not only an elf, but an elf mage?" He whistled under his breath. "The Chantry's gonna shit itself."

"I suppose we'll have to take care of that dragon-spirit thing now, then?" Dorian asked tiredly.

"About bloody time we got to kill something that makes sense," Elisabeth muttered under her breath as she knelt down next to Sera. Dorian passed Sera a damp cloth to clean her face before he wandered off with Bull to loot the dead. She mushed it too hard against her nose and hissed in pain.

"Wait." A hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled back. Elisabeth pulled the cloth away and swallowed.

"Let m– I mean, can…uh, would you mind if I...?"

Sera stared at her for a minute before realizing what had happened. She had asked to help. Tripped over the words like a tit, but really asked. Not jumped in to fix it, not shoved her way into the fray. Asked.

Sera nodded slowly, and Elisabeth smiled like the sun.


"I…I don't know what to say," the Avvar boy said, looking down at the pack full of monster-bits Sera'd given him. Poor sod sounded like he was trying not to cry.

"Say what they want," she answered him firmly. "Belong. And when you realize that it's shit to treat you like this, you come north, pin this to one of the boards outside a Chantry." She passed him a scrap of red fabric and clapped him on the shoulder. "And ask for Jenny."

With nothing left to say to him, she headed back out into the weird, damp night. The Stone-Bears were bring cheerful all over the place even though it was late as piss, which was kind of fun. Lots of singing. Lots more booze. She swiped a mug of something someone had been nice enough to forget about and took a drink. It was some kind of honey wine that they had a weird name for, but it was sweet and strong.

She was small enough compared to this lot that barely anyone noticed her wandering through the village. Andraste knew it was leagues above Halamshiral, but all the eye candy in Thedas couldn't keep her from finding who she was out to find now.

"What is it with you and parties?" she asked when she finally found her, sitting alone on a bench behind the tavern. "Fun give you hives or something?"

The smile she got back from Elisabeth was just…exhausted. Like she was so tired that she might just want to kip down on the bench and call it a night. "That's the precisely the problem," she replied solemnly. "Hives. Great, monstrous puss-filled hives at the very mention of fun. Maker protect the woman unfortunate enough to share my bed tonight."

"Eww," Sera laughed, nudging Elisabeth with her shoulder as she sat down next to her. "Really though; you're alright, yeah? You've got me worrying again."

"Fine, love," she assured, flinching back a little when Sera fixed her with a look. "It's nothing. Been a long few days is all. You know, storming a fortress full of murderous Avvar, taking out a god-dragon. And I'm no spring chicken anymore. Everyone says it's all downhill after twenty-six."

Sera rolled her eyes and scooted a little bit away. "Prat. C'mere," she said, patting her leg. Elisabeth stretched out on the bench and laid her head in Sera's lap, sighing as she got settled. Her hair was dirty and stiff with salt, but the rise and fall of her chest gave Sera a warm feeling she didn't quite have a name for.

"Just a few minutes," Elisabeth protested sleepily, turning into the pressure of Sera's hand. "Josephine will have me flogged if I don't let myself be seen around."

"Not a chance, Herald of Everywhere. World's all safe again and you're done for the night."

Elisabeth made a grumbling noise in the back of her throat, like she wanted to argue, but she was asleep before the words left her mouth. Never could manage to stay awake when she was touched like this. Good little trick to know to keep her out of trouble.

Sera knew rather a lot of tricks now. What gross Starkhaven whiskey was her favorite to have when it got cold outside. What book to slip her when she started to get fed up with politics. What jokes to make to distract her away from worrying too much.

She'd never been still long enough to learn about a person like that, even a lover. Piss, she'd never even lived in one place as long as she'd been with Elisabeth by now. If everything was always new, she never had to watch something old change for the worse. And it always did, eventually; stories crumble away to nothing, people get old and die. She always trusted the itch to come before it started to hurt.

Looking down at the woman sleeping in her lap she realized that in the two years since that night in the alley, there'd never been an itch. They were good together, even when they managed to get stupid about things. Really good. Maybe some days she needed holding in, the same way Elisabeth needed holding back. Maybe that was part of what made them so good.

Elisabeth made a noise in her sleep, a pathetic little snuffling thing that meant she'd started dreaming. She wake in an hour or so with a crick in her neck and complain that Sera was too bony. Sera would make a joke about boning. She knew just what would happen, and still no itch, no boredom. Just warm and shiny in her chest. She laced her fingers through Elisabeth's limp ones where her hand rested on her stomach, looking at the two rings next to each other in the torchlight. Even at the worst of it, she'd not thought once of taking the stupid thing off.

Maybe marriage wasn't such a scary idea after all.