The tavern was not hard to find.

Trudging back through the grand hall he and Cole first passed through was automatic, and Farion hardly even noticed where he was going. Once the sunlight hit him, he became more aware of his surroundings, leaving him blinking miserably in the brisk mountain air. The sound of clinking mugs and laughter naturally pointed him toward a large wooden building in the courtyard, which he entered with dragging footsteps.

The bartender, a stocky dwarven fellow, cast him a look of pity as he slumped into a barstool. Farion mentally noted, with a mixture of humor and bitterness, that he must have looked quite pathetic. He tossed aside that notion with a snort; he knew it was true, he just didn't care at that moment. He was determined to drown himself in beer and sorrow for the time being. It was all that spirit's fault. He brought it all up again. He should have left what didn't involve him alone. He should have-

"Hey! You! Who the frig do you think you are, bumming out the tavern with your elfy somberness?" Farion was shocked out of his stupor by the loud, demanding voice. He glanced to the right, seeing a blonde woman scowling at him, nose scrunched up in distaste. "What? Sad that no one gives two squirts about you and your precious trees? As shocking as it may be to you, the Inquisition has bigger purposes than a bunch of whiny Dalish tits."

Farion glanced at the girl's pointed ears and scoffed, turning back to his drink. He could practically feel the elf fuming beside him.

"You think you're better than me, is that it?" she huffed, slamming a hand on the bar.

"No. I think your complaints are ironic, that's all." He didn't bother looking at her when he spoke.

"Ironic? You wanna start making sense, pisser?"

He sighed in annoyance; surely, the Inquisition couldn't be all like this one. "What is ironic is the fact that you're bashing me, while it's likely that you are actually more 'elfy' than I am. I am not Dalish; I'm Qunari, Viddathari. Or, at least, I was. Tal-Vashoth now."

The blonde grimaced, before retorting, "Yeah, well, you're still stupid." At his lack of response, she put a hand on her hip. "And why are you here anyway? No one invited your sorry ass in here."

"Someone did, actually," he corrected dryly, taking a sip of his drink. The girl blinked, then grinned widely, plopping down beside him and leaning in.

"Oho, I get it now. Someone invited you in, then kicked you to the curb. I know a look of rejection when I see one. So who finally got tired of your sack of bones in the sack, eh?"

Farion rolled his eyes; this girl was really starting to rattle his cage. "Do you know the Inquisitor?" He wasn't sure why he was telling her. Maybe he just needed to get it off his chest to someone he would make sure to never see again.

"Well, yeah, everyone knows the Inquisitor. But I'm part of her little party. 'Cause I'm special and shite. Why you askin' about her?" She frowned, brows furrowed. Farion shot her an incredulous stare. A moment later, realization shot across her face. "You did it with the Inquisitor?"

"Eloquently put, but yes."

An uncontrollable giggle fit sounded immediately after that confirmation. "You did it with the Inquisitor! And she threw you out!" The woman cackled in delight, nearly falling off her stool. "I mean, I don't blame ya for that one. Them Qunari ladies, yeah? Woof. Right fit, they are. But you got thrown out! Good on you, uh..." She paused to look at him questioningly.

"Farion," he answered flatly, finishing his tankard glumly.

"Right, and I'm Sera." He raised an eyebrow at her, his face still gloomy. She defensively stated, "Hey, like I said, you're still stupid, but I just feel bad for you."

"Well, don't. I'm not looking for your pity." He stubbornly raised his mug, disappointed to find it empty. He gestured to the bartender wordlessly for another.

"Fine, be that way, Farinio." Butchering his name completely, Sera stuck her tongue out at him in a display of utmost maturity, before pushing herself off the stool. As she walked away, she said quietly, "Look, drinking is supposed to be a celebratory thing, yeah? Stop moping, do something about your wishy-washy state, then drink. Man up, ya knob."

He pretended he had not heard her, but secretly, her words put him deep into thought.


"I want to forget again. You can do that, can't you? Make me forget? Cole, please."

The spirit said nothing; he could not find his words, no matter how hard he tried. He simply stared at the Inquisitor, trembling with a wild look of desperation in her eyes. 'This is not her,' he thought distressfully. 'I did this. How could I do it so wrong?' After a moment of inner debate, he slowly stammered out, "My powers are most reliable when I use them on myself."

"I heard you talking to Varric! I know you can apply your powers to other people! Please!" The Inquisitor fell to her knees, eyes shut tight. Cole could feel the weight of her mind shifting and churning, the pain starting to boil over. Being the Inquisitor meant she was responsible for countless lives, he knew. That stress, added to that of her own life, was just too much; Cole could hardly bear to see her usual cheerful demeanor snapping so drastically. "I'm begging you, Cole. Just make him disappear from my life. I'll never ask for anything from you ever again, I swear it."

That was all he could take. Inhaling deeply, readying himself for the massive burst of power he was about to expend, he nodded. "Very well, Inquisitor. Come closer."

A wave of relief and gratitude passed over the Inquisitor's face as she scrambled to her feet. "You-you mean it? You'll make me forget?"

"Yes." When she was within arms-reach of him, he forced his own willpower into her mind, puffs of swirling smoke curling around them. Grasping the painful memories of Farion with all his being, Cole tugged them out of her head with all his might. In a surge of pure energy, he retracted from the Inquisitor's mind, huffing heavily. Vaguely, he could sense her mind reacting to the sudden void, filling in the gaps with images that made sense to her. But for the moment, his main focus was on how utterly exhausted he suddenly felt.

The Inquisitor's face was smooth, tranquil, completely blank. Her mind was hazy, as if a fog was engulfing any sort of rational thought. For a moment, she couldn't think of who she was or where she was, until she noticed the thin young man before her stumbling to the ground.

"Cole!" With a cry of alarm, she rushed to his side, propping him up against her arm. "Are you all right? What's wrong? What are you doing here?"

"I... am fine, Inquisitor," he mumbled disconcertedly, blinking rapidly. "It is done now."

"Are you sure?" Still unsure about his actual reasoning for being there, she shrugged it off as another odd action of Cole. "Tell me if something really is wrong. I don't want to see you hurt, okay?" And, much to both his and her surprise, she pulled him close into a hug. There was a tight constriction in her chest that she didn't quite understand, slowly loosening as if her worries were all vanishing into thin air. Quivering, she realized there were tears in her eyes. She hadn't cried in a very long time, not since-

She could not remember the last time. It was as if the memory had been plucked clean out of her skull.

"Don't you dare get hurt on my watch, you got that, Cole?" she mumbled, clutching him tightly to her chest. "If you do, I'll kill every single son of a bitch that lays a finger on you, then I'll kill you myself."

Cole shifted in her arms, not sure he should fear for her sanity or his life more. "I-I will try not to get hurt."

"Good." The Inquisitor closed her eyes, wondering why she kept getting the feeling that she was forgetting something dearly important. "Good."