"The keeper always chided me when I got caught in the act," Her gaze extended past the shadow of the mountains, into the expanses of nostalgia. She angled her head towards Cassandra, a overzealous scowl now played on her lips, paired with scrunched up brows. "'At this rate you'll earn Fen'Harel's marks on you, da'len'." While she mimicked the nasally roll of the keeper, the breeze shifted and she could smell the flavor of the embers from camp.
The bitter sting of snow was tenacious from the dock of the frozen lake, but she was drawn to the brilliance of the moon reflected upon it. She also found the ice pooling in her fingers was a fantastic method to ground herself into reality.
She was struck with the craving for normalcy of clan life. The mindlessness of peeling vegetables in a circle around the fire, of overhearing the sparrow's delicate morning song when she combed the lush grasp of nature for fruits, of being a spectator once more to the stories that the hahren would weave to the children about their creators.
Serrated luminescence of sapling green sliced through peace and she was back in the destruction at the conclave. The blackened stench of overcooked flesh coated the inside of her nose, the deafening of silence rang while she could only sparse together the rush of blood behind her ears, followed by the excruciating sensation of the muscles in her petite hand splitting then snapping apart in their goal to anchor the mark into her.
A breath snagged in her lungs, her composure faltering as she stumbled over her memories still so vivid. A shift of weight caused boards of the dock to groan under Cassandra. The noise startled the elf, violently dragging her ashore from drowning in her mind's eye. Her blighted hand throbbed and sparked in recognition. She pursed her lips as she peered down at it, only feeling relief when she settled it's mate overtop it. She was denying it reality, she hoped for forever.
It was enough time for the Herald to clear her throat, forcing the stagnate air to release tension from her. She made an attempt to smooth the edge of her tone. "I eventually grew up and it wasn't much of a problem after that,". A moment of tenderness ghosted across her features. "Well, I guess I just got better about hiding my mischief." She amended, voice dipped low into warmth as she recalled.
"You can not go back to how things were.." The words were round in Cassandra's mouth and exhaled with an unusual softness towards the elf. Lavellan could feel the pierce, the shatter as it spread and formed into a lump in the back of her throat. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her fingers and toes buzzed as they cried in numbness, she was beyond the point of shivering and she could feel the pull of emptiness that emanated from her stomach. The mark hummed in her palm, discharging a flash of emerald that glowed against the pillowy snow that now collected at her feet.
"But how to I go forward from this?" Strangled cry escaped from the elf's quivering mouth, of which she immediately regretted. Once the words had been let go, it poured out. Unrelenting, a dam burst and aggressive guilt flowed like a unending river.
She cursed in elven before resorting to screaming until her throat went raw and hoarse. She didn't ask for this, she wasn't their fabled Herald and she couldn't save anyone at the conclave. Her tears solidified on her cheeks. She mourned the lives lost around her, for this divine who strived towards unity, for herself at the normalcy that had now vanished before her. She collapsed breathless to the dock underneath her. Cassandra managed to predict this and was able to catch her arm, slowing her descent. Then silence engulfed them, they both peered outward over the icy water.
The tide of raw feelings receded back into the depths, quelled for the time being. A comfortable warm emptiness occupied her chest as she considered how drained she was. She felt the apprehension slip while looking at the palm of her cursed hand, and resolve crystallize in it's place. With eyes now sealed she counted heartbeats before she spoke again, brushing hair away from her mouth.
"Thank you Cassandra.." She muttered, and although Cassandra had not done much, the woman had helped exactly how Lavellan needed.
The old wound of misery resounded in his chest as he witnessed the storm of emotion that Lavellan was tossed into. Bloodshed from the circle tower forever maimed his view of magic and even mages, even ten years later he still coped with the aftershocks of it. A choking cry from disembodied mages would wake him from slumber, only to be received by the apparition of an abomination pressing an attack into him. Unfocused eyes would catch the images of body parts in place of the items they actually were, always forcing a second glance on his part (either to confirm his fears or vanquish the thought). The creeping of familiarity from a stranger's face would strike a memory of a mage from the circle, a mage that was likely dead now. He endured, as would she.
From his distance, he observed the seeker offer a hand to Lavellan before helping her stand. His muscles relaxed in relief that the situation appeared to be resolved. They approached with Lavellan at the lead, and he saw someone different than who he had been introduced to. Not the Herald she had been dubbed. He felt his throat tighten as he caught a real view of her.
Her hair matched the intensity of the burning sun and was pulled into one intricate braid that when swept forward extended past her knees. Her brows were thick and dramatic. Expression lines in her forehead were pronounced upon inspection, even behind the Dalish mark she held. He knew the mark honored their protector Mythal and had resemblance to a light tree budding from the bridge of the nose branching quickly upward and encircling below her eyes in symmetric beauty.
She had eyes that mirrored the leafy grass of fields he had played in as a boy in his hometown. Her nose curved down slightly towards the tip before rounding off and it looked as though the arch of her nose had been broken at some point, leaving a bump as reminder. Freckles gracefully dotted her cheekbones like stars in the sky. She had the start of laugh lines cupping the sides of her mouth and to know that she had seen joy made him feel at ease with the task at hand. He noted that her bottom lip was fuller than the top, but both were pale, save for a crease of blood in the middle. Her frame was light as he had grown accustom to all elves to be, but her legs appeared powerful and her arms maintained a bar of muscle that surely assured her strength in a fight.
His cataloging of her was interrupted when they locked eyes, hers almost glowing in contrast of the snow around them and the magnificence of the moon. The angle of the moon cast shimmers of light upon her braid, her lips were plump and bright coral from the minor blood she had drawn earlier and her brows high with open curiosity to him. His heart sped up. He could not fathom words to describe how radiant he found her to be as a woman and not their savior.
She passed him without a word. Cassandra following from behind her only pausing to lay a strong hand on Cullen's shoulder and give a grip of reassurance before pulling away to follow the elf. He turned to face Haven, resting a palm against the pommel of his sword to steady himself and focus on calming his heart down. Not far from the entrance he saw Solas gripping his staff, azure flames casting a dull glow in his presence. Cullen with curious eyes studied the apostate but couldn't determine intent before the mage turned and joined Lavellan into the glowing village.