The Spirit Girl
-Banal nadas.
Dragon Age Inquisition
A Modern Girl in Thedas Story
By: Miss Snazzy

Chapter 3

"Hey, Cole," she greets, taking a seat on the crate beside him. The sound of Sera's song brings a smile to her face. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"So what is Sera thinking about when Maryden sings this song? Does she really not notice?"

"Wet, slippery, slide. The lyrics become a swift flick between her thighs—"

"Whoa!" Helena waves her hands in the universal motion for halt. "You really don't need to finish that thought." She pulls a hand down her face, trying to suppress the zigzagging of her thoughts between Maryden between Sera's thighs, Sera between her own, and not to mention those words coming out of Cole's mouth... God, she really is a perv. "I guess I should've known." She clears her throat, really hoping Cole had remained tuned into Sera's radio station over her own. "But seriously, how can she not notice a song about her?"

"Their thoughts are often too loud to focus on her words."

Cole peers down at her and she begins to regret her decision to sit. This angle is not doing her blush any favors.

"Right." Helena levers herself up, brushing her hair behind her ears. "Makes sense." She glances at his hat. Maybe Cole has the right idea. A wide brim like that would do wonders for circumventing whatever her expression happens to give away at any given time.

"The others are more comfortable when they can't see his face."

"You mean your face."

"This body belonged to Cole—"

"And you're Cole," she insists. "Maybe not the same Cole as whoever he was when you found him, and maybe not even what you were before that, but you're still him. And he's you. A fusion."

What would his fusion be called? Compassion and Cole. Compass-Cole? He'll peek into your thoughts, blab to the group, and show you the way? Too bad he isn't an archer. The spinning arrow? Too good to pass up.

"We did not need to dance to join." Cole tilts his head.

"No, that's uh—I know." That probably would have been a horrifying thing to witness, actually. A spirit twirling an emaciated corpse across a cell. The legs would drag, the arms sag...

Helena keeps her gaze averted, too guilty to check if Cole has been affected by her thoughts. Hopefully, he hadn't been tuned in just then.

"So, can I ask you another question?"

"Yes."

"Why do you always hang out up here?"

"They come here to forget. The dark thoughts that scurry, scrape, scratch at the others. Her voice drowns them out. His drink numbs the screams lodged in their throats."

"So you come here to...watch them help themselves?" Her smile falls as she registers the dual meaning. Help themselves. Sure, if they had the self-restraint. A fine line between helping and hurting themselves.

"Her words slur, the sound of her voice grates. Is being with us so impossible to bear? Do you even care—"

"Cole!" Helena waits for his gaze to focus on her before pointing at his hands. "You're wearing them?" Cole glances down at the yarn wrapped around his palms.

"Yes."

"So you...like them?"

"They make my skin feel warm."

"That's...uh," Helena pushes her hair back, ignoring the heat on her face, "good...right?"

"Yes..." Cole brushes his thumb along the inside of his left palm. "I think so."

"Well, good." Helena nods once, gaze darting around as she clears her throat. "Wait." Her gaze refocuses on him as her brows furrow. "You didn't just put them on when you realized I was coming, did you?"

"I never know when you're coming."

"Oh."

"You worried I was lying." Cole tilts his head. "Why would I—"

"You wouldn't." She clears her throat again. "I guess." She squints at him. "Not about this anyway." She raises an eyebrow. "Unless you were trying to help."

"I try to help." Cole nods, shifting his feet. "And I like the gloves."

"Right." She nods, relaxing her eyes. "They don't have to be mutually exclusive. I gotcha."

Helena glances around the tavern. Not much on the third floor. Or would this be considered an attic?

"You ever thought of going down there?" she asks, peeking over the railing. The drop looks much higher now that her body has lost its in-game durability. At least, she thinks it has. Not something she's willing to test at the moment.

"I make them uncomfortable."

"That sounds like their problem to me." She runs her nails across the railing. "I know you're all about solving problems, but sometimes, they really need to just get over it."

"I don't want to hurt anyone. Seeing me makes them hurt." Cole's hat obscures his entire face as he stares at the floor.

"Only because they haven't gotten to know you." Except Vivienne. No hope for her. Probably. "And they can't get to know you if you spend all your time in the shadows." She grips the railing. "You can't coddle them forever. The only way for them to overcome their fear is to confront it. Just like how you get people to confront their pain by giving words to their hurt." She glances at the bartender. How should she go about procuring a little coin? Oh, maybe some jewelry would work! "One of these days, you and I are going to sit at that bar and order a drink." She grimaces a little when she notes some of the rowdy people occupying the barstools. "Okay, maybe a table instead." She turns to Cole. "But definitely down there."

"I don't know..."

"You're allowed to help yourself, you know." Helena ducks her head to peer under the brim of Cole's hat. She offers a small smile when he meets her gaze. "Every once in a while."

Helena misses Cole's response as that deep pull expands within her, making her bones almost ache. Is it time, already? How long has she been here? With a couple of hard blinks, she refocuses on Cole. She can actually see his face without ducking now.

"Don't forget what I said." At least he seems finished with hiding underneath his hat for the moment. Maybe she got through to him. "We're still getting that drink," she finishes with a pointed look.

A quick gasp inward and—

...

She stumbles backward into her bed, but remains standing.

"Totally getting the hang of this," she breathes at her reflection.

A quick peek at her clock confirms that little time has passed. She grabs her notebook off her bed and despite her shaking hands, she manages to keep her writing within the lines.

"Two to three minutes," she mumbles, frowning. "Should've set the timer on my phone." Hardly precise without measuring the seconds. "Next time."

She would need a way to document time in Thedas as well. A stopwatch? It would give her a chance to test the mirror's effect on technology.

"But should I do this?" Helena asks in a deep, dramatic voice, puffing up her chest. She raises her head, staring off into the distance. "For if anyone should get their hands on such a device..." She snorts, relaxing her posture. "They'd probably just think it's some foreign magic." She squints her eyes. "Maybe an old, Dwarven relic?"

She turns toward the mirror, meeting her own gaze.

"It is risky, though." She taps the notebook with her pen. "Who knows what could happen." She stares at her reflection. It would be nice to discuss all of this with someone. "You're no help." The thought of actually telling anyone, even Jenny, makes her frown.

"I really hope you aren't listening to this..." she says, studying her reflection. "Magic...Mirror." She squints her eyes. "Or some shadow person trying to steal my face."

She closes her eyes with a sigh, rubbing her neck.

"Please," she stresses, "don't be a shadow person trying to steal my face." She opens her eyes to squint again. "Mirror person," she corrects. "Whatever."

...