-The Final Rift-

Water rushed over her. She flailed her arms, struggling to breathe. A wave crashed over her, pushing her under, spinning her around in the tide. She was but a leaf, made of skin and bones, twisted and churned at the whim of the waves.

Deeper and deeper, she was pulled, one wave under another, deeper away from the storm. Too far away from the light, too far away from the air. She'd never reach the surface in time.

She let out her last breath, an explosion of bubbles scurrying toward the surface, and slipped into unconsciousness as the water filled her lungs.

Avalon awoke with a start, gasping for air. It was a dream...the same dream, again and again, but just a dream.

And yet, now that she was awake, she did not feel relief.

She had accomplished so much. The Inquisition had accomplished so much. All the rifts were sealed. Corypheus was defeated, and his dragon was dead. Order was slowly being restored to the nations of Thedas. The Chantry was rebuilt. The mages were wielding unprecedented freedoms with grace and honor. The Dalish elves were now respected in light of her actions as an elven "Herald of Andraste."

It was victory. She knew this. And yet? It was incomplete.

"That damn elf," she muttered. Solas was gone. In his absence, she carried a rift in her chest where her heart should have been, a wound no anchor could heal.

Avalon pushed back the covers, and walked out onto the balcony, to the spot where they'd first kissed. Or was it the second place they'd kissed? Should she count the kiss in the Fade? Despite her melancholy, a smile escaped her. She never could decide.

She rested her hands against the cool stone and leaned on the balcony, taking in the peaceful view.

What she wouldn't give to be back in the thick of things, with her mission so clear, and the promise of love so tangible. Back then, they were too busy fighting for the future; she never thought she'd have time to think about the past. But now? She wished she'd taken more time to pause, to soak up all the little details, so that she could better remember.

She remembered the way the sun glowed upon their skin.

She remembered the crisp air, and a chilly breeze, coming down off the mountains. How he'd tilt his head and gaze into her eyes.

Solas turned to walk away, and she caught his arm, pulling him to her side. "It would be kinder in the long run but losing you would…"

Her heart seized at the memory of their embrace. It ached more than any wound she'd ever suffered in the flesh. She caught her breath, and crumbled up on the floor. The tears came fast. She was heaving. The emptiness was too much. Just like her dream, she was caught up in a tide of feelings, and they were pulling her under. When would the pain go away? When would it get better?

Solas was her anchor. Only he could make this right. Only he could seal the rift in her heart. But he was gone.

When she looked up, she saw a familiar face. Cole. He had never appeared in her chambers before, yet here he was: crouching down to lock eyes with her own. He cocked his gaze, and said, "Where the heart should be, there is a hole, and it cannot be filled."

Avalon was startled, but her shock quickly gave way to relief. She hadn't spoken of her grief to anyone. She suspected her companions knew she must be struggling with Solas' disappearance, but until this moment, she hadn't revealed her feelings to anyone.

To have her sorrow acknowledged, it gave her a degree of peace. "Yes," she sighed. "And the hole is eating me up." And then came the tears. She sat there, on the balcony, weeping into her hands, the sobs racking her breath. She felt like a collection of broken pieces, held together by bits of string. Cole gently placed his hand on her neck and guided her head down to rest on his lap. Then he stroked her hair.

What a strange sight they must have been: the leader of the Inquisition being coddled by a spirit who looked like a wayward boy. But: this is what settled her; and, as a Spirit of Compassion, Cole knew it. He knew the way her mother used to lay her head in her lap and run fingers through her hair. As a child, it never made her feel safe, but it did bring her comfort, as if her mother was trying to say, "I cannot change the world, but, in this moment, I can show you love."

After her breathing calmed, she wiped her eyes and sat up. "Thank you, Cole."

He looked at the floor between them, considering his next words. "Where the heart should be, there is so much pain." He let his gaze flicker back up into her eyes, "If it is too much for you, I could help. I could take the pain away."

Avalon contemplated Cole's offer.

She could be freed from this weight. She could forget she ever loved Solas, or she could even ask Cole to remove him from her memory completely. She could have a fresh start, a spotless mind with which to greet a new day.

As she considered the promise of freedom, however, she knew the only answer she could give. "No," she replied. "This is my burden to bear. I don't know how to endure it, but I know that I must. In order to be true to who I am, I must allow myself to feel. Even if it hurts."

Cole sighed. Was it a sigh of relief? "Then, I will sit here with you, if that is alright."

"Yes, Cole," she replied. "I would like that."

And then, under her breath, she whispered to Solas, wherever he might be: "Ar lath ma, vhenan."