Somewhere in Ferelden

Kestrel Ariyah

Everything ached. Everything. Even the very tips of my fingers felt exhausted. My lungs felt wrung out, too tight in my chest. I did not think I would ever become accustomed to this sensation, to this situation, to this…to being this weak. I hated it. I hated the worry that I could feel pouring off of Rylie. I hated being the cause of it. I hated that I could not put a stop to the instincts that bred moments like this.

But...Sister Regina...the poor woman was in agony, on the verge of collapse, and she has seen over six decades of life. I simply could not let her suffer and no one else, my heart burned against the selfishness I had witnessed, seemed to care for her health. If Justinia were to be told of this…there would be several templars and Chantry officials no longer possessed of their rank and station. However, right now, we need all of the able-bodied men and women available. I can forgive the selfish actions of others for the greater good…even if acting as I think best hurts…so very badly.

Attempting to keep my movements subtle, I reached up and pressed against my chest, at the bundle of pain that used to be healthy, functional lungs. I closed my eyes and winced at the harsh spikes of fire piercing through my breastbone and into the organs behind it. I gritted my teeth and swallowed down the agony. Tears filled my eyes and I let them fall. I was tired of this. Tired of being so weak and helpless. Tired of the anguished fear in Rylie's night-sky eyes whenever I caught even the mildest illness.

"Kes?" She spoke and I soared at the sound of her Starkhaven brogue.

In spite of my pain, in spite of my weakness, we were no longer in Kirkwall. In spite of my apostate's mark, I was under the protection of the Divine. We could touch each other daily, share a bed at night, be one with each other in every way. I would give up more than my health and my sight for that gift alone.

"Kes, what's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her tone. "You just went stiff and your breathing changed."

I love you, Rylie Camerloch. You know everything about me and, while that frustrates me to no end, I know that you care with all of your beautiful, boundless heart.

"Just chest pain." I murmured. "Madame de Fer said that it would occur, especially in places and conditions like this."

"It's so bloody humid." Rylie agreed, shifting behind me.

I heard the sound of creaking leather, heard rustling noises as Rylie dug through the small pouch she wore on her belt, and a familiar scent tinged the air.

"Here." Rylie's hand appeared in front of me, holding a fragrant chunk of ginger root. "I remember Kathyra saying that ginger was excellent for chest pain. Not so good as garlic, but I have none of that on hand, and no desire to taste it when I kiss you."

"Thank you, sweet girl." I whispered, tossing the root in my mouth and beginning to chew, the fragrance stinging my nose and the taste my tongue.

The mention of Kathyra's name bruised my heart. I missed the kind Seeker of Truth, the physician who was a mentor, a friend...a sister. The woman who despised magic…yet found a place in her heart for me. She was needed here, in so many ways. She might have helped Sister Regina, and all of the Nine, who were elderly and each suffering some form of ailment from their time spent on Thedas. There were no healers here…none save for me, and I barely had the strength to perform magic anymore.

No. I growled at my inner, bitter spirit. I will not allow myself to wallow in grief. The past is the past, and there is nothing that can be done. I saved twenty-four lives that day, and I cannot regret that…I have my life, I have my love, and twenty-four mages survived the horror of Kirkwall. I lost nothing but a little of my health and the sight in my right eye. A blur of violet entered my vision, standing out in the sea of the white and red of Chantry vestments and the gleaming silver of templar armor. Leliana…I lost nothing compared to what she suffered. She held Kathyra in her arms as the woman bled to death. She watched another lover die, then she…she killed Salem Cousland. She killed the great love of her life so that her service to the Maker would not be impeded. But there is a light missing from her eyes. Even my damaged vision can ascertain that.

"She looks so sad of late." Rylie commented, echoing my thoughts. "And she seems to speak to no one but Justinia and Cassandra."

"I know." I murmured. "She is suffering from guilt, Riley. She sees what happened to me as her fault." I did not know how I knew this, but the voice in my heart that I always followed told me it was truth. "She is afraid to approach us because she fears we blame her."

"That's utter shite." Riley spoke, her voice fierce with honesty.

"Were it not for her, would we ever have set foot in Kirkwall?" I asked. "Do not take me wrongly, sweet girl, I do not blame Leliana for our fate, but I understand where she stands and what she believes."

"If it weren't for her, you would have been killed." Rylie stated, blunt, as was her manner. "You were a mage posing as a templar, Kes. Someone would have found out eventually, and both of us would have been executed. In fact, if not for Leliana, you would have gone with the magelets to the Circle at Montsimmard."

I shuddered at the thought. I knew that I could never dwell in a Circle of Magi again. Not after Kirkwall. The cloying fear each and every day would destroy me. The atrocities I had witnessed there still haunted my dreams. My nightmares were filled with the memories, not just of the enactment of the Right of Annulment, but of the day to day horrors.

I dreamed of being too late to save Felicity from the templar who would have stolen her innocence at the tender age of thirteen. I dreamed of being one of the mages sentenced to the Rite of Tranquility simply for questioning a templar's orders. I dreamed of the torture I endured while in solitary confinement…going hungry for days on end…being beaten and cut simply because I was defenseless…I dreamed of the night when Rylie was forced to hold me down as they scarred my face with ink and acidic poison. I dreamed of the Harrowing that I almost did not survive.

"We should talk to her." Rylie broke my reverie on atrocity, drawing me from memories of hell with her cherished voice. "Look at these people, Kes. They're terrified of the Left Hand, the secret-keeper of Most Holy, the one who drowns in blood so that the Divine's hands remain unsullied. Just…watch."

I did as Rylie suggested, watching Leliana ride through the crowd. Whenever she drew near another rider, they guided their horse away. No gazes turned in her direction. There were no words of greeting given to her. A cloud of silence surrounded her, and she remained quiet within it. That was not the Leliana I remembered. That was not the woman who had given me strength to go on, who had saved my life a thousand times over...the woman to whom I gave my greatest secret first, because I knew she could be trusted.

"She must feel so isolated...and despised." I spoke my thoughts aloud. "We know the burden Justinia has placed on her and Cassandra's shoulders. If an Inquisition is to come again, it will require someone capable of leading it…someone impartial, whose hands are not interlocked with those of Most Holy. Leliana knows what it is to carry the safety of the world on her shoulders. She is best qualified to find one who would spearhead such an endeavor."

"There were only two who were capable." Rylie murmured. "One of them in the wind, and the other…the other dead. I don't know…" Rylie's sentence broke, but I knew her well enough to finish it.

"I don't know how she did so either." I reached for Rylie's hand and squeezed it, holding to her strength and beauty. "You remember Amaranthine…after you recovered." In my mind I could see it perfectly; the angry scar that bisected my lover's upper body, from the top of her shoulder, between her breasts, to the curve of her hip bone. "You saw how much love they had for each other, then." I continued. "I could feel it when they stood in the same room. It is the same thing I feel when I am with you, sweet girl…as if all the world has been set aright, everything in its proper place. They were meant to be."

"She had to have a reason." Rylie pulled me back to rest against her chest. "She always has a reason."

"I know." I turned my head and placed a kiss on my lover's cheek. "We'll speak to her when we make camp tonight. It's time for the silence to be broken, and let her know that…that she isn't alone. Not here. Not with us. We love her and I think…I think she needs to know that now, more than ever."

"I adore you, Kestrel Ariyah." Rylie whispered, her breath tickling my ear, sending shockwaves down my spine. "How's the pain, love? Did the ginger help?"

"Yes." I answered, smiling for her sake.

It helped, but not enough. This air, this heat, the fucking humidity. It's so oppressive…as though breathing it is a death sentence.