"No. I cannot."
Cassandra furrowed her brow, looking from the horse to the Herald in confusion. "What do you mean? You refuse?"
Zanneth shook her head. Her hair was lengthening: it was still a white fuzz around her head, but it was far more visible with each day. "I did not say I will not, I said I cannot. Do you think the Dalish have these smelly beasts out in the forest? We would never fell game. We do not ride any beast of burden. We move on our own two feet."
"But… I thought you had beasts of burden for pulling your land ships?"
The elf sighed. She cut a striking figure in her leather coat and wool cloak, her beautifully-carved hunting longbow strapped along with a travel pack over them both. Her somewhat large ears came to a delicate point in the early-morning light, framed perfectly by the white-capped peaks around them.
"The Dalish do not ride the hallah, Cassandra," Solas said, coming up alongside her, holding the reins of the horse provided to him. Varric and The Iron Bull readied their own animals, of a size and strength for each to be able to manage, some distance away. "The hallah choose to pull the aravel, and in return the Dalish tend to the herds and guide their intricate horns to grow as they do. They are not beasts of burden. Theirs is a symbiotic partnership."
Cassandra frowned as Zanneth turned to the elven apostate. "You are Dalish?" the elf asked, scrutinizing Solas with those deep brown eyes. "You bear no vallaslin…"
Solas shook his head. "No, lethallan, I am not one of the People. I was raised outside the world of both elves and men. I… spend much of my time alone, dreaming and exploring the Fade and its secrets."
Zanneth seemed to accept that, nodding her acknowledgment before turning back to Cassandra. Solas was quickly astride his horse and leading it away. "It is as he says," the elven woman said.
Cassandra pursed her lips. "Be that as it may, we do not have the time to walk to Jader, and we have no carriages to carry you. Carriages do not traverse the mountains, even if we did." Thinking for a moment, she came up with her answer. "Your horse can act as a beast of burden, and you shall ride with me."
"With you?"
"Yes," Cassandra said, already fishing in their supplies for a tether to keep Zanneth's horse tied to her own horse's saddle. "Mine is a warhorse, and a stallion at that. Even our combined weight will not slow him down. Now come, I will show you how to sit comfortably in front of me, and we can be off. Perhaps during the journey we can give you some proficiency in directing your own horse."
Zanneth looked incredibly dubious as Cassandra held out her hands, intent on receiving the gear upon the elf's back. "You cannot run the whole way to Jader," Cassandra repeated. "You are barely now recovering the weight you lost as you lay ill. Now, give me your things and I will secure them to your horse."
The elf did as she was bid, and within a few minutes Cassandra was pulling herself astride her own horse. Holding out her hand, she regarded Zanneth with amusement. The elf's eyes held nothing but skepticism. "Come. I will help you."
With a nod, Zanneth placed her bare hand – the one with no mark – in Cassandra's palm. The Seeker immediately noted to herself how warm the elf's skin was. It was also rough in that particular way an archer's hands became. The grip was strong and sure. Grasping that hand, Cassandra hauled the elf bodily upward. After only a moment of adjustment, she had the Herald of Andraste sitting in the saddle before her, her short bristles of hair tickling the Seeker's chin and lips for a moment as the elf shifted in her awkward seat.
"Sitting astride a horse takes some getting used to, but I can at least show you how to hold yourself so you can still walk at the end of the day. You will be uncomfortable, but you will be able to move." She took the elf's hands in her own, intending to place them upon the saddlehorn, but Zanneth pulled them away.
"I am sorry, I did not mean to offend," Cassandra began, but the elf shook her head.
"It is not you. I simply… it is not you." Taking a deep breath, the elf placed her hands palm-up in Cassandra's, twisting some as she turned deep, dark brown eyes up at Cassandra. "Please, show me what to do?"
Something about the gesture, of Zanneth putting her hands in Cassandra's after disallowing the Seeker to take them, made the Right Hand's heart flutter inside her ribs. It was as though Zanneth would not be taken or forced, but would willingly and knowingly place herself in Cassandra's care. It was… she was not sure how it made her feel. But she was honored to be given that kind of trust, and by one with every right to be distrustful. Silently, she vowed not to betray it.
It did not even occur to her to question how much her opinion of the elf had changed in the last several weeks.
"Hold here," the Seeker said, placing Zanneth's hands on the saddlehorn. She was taken by the curve of the elf's wrists, the faint glow emanating from the left hand, the curl of the fingers as they took hold of the saddlehorn. The elf's hands were oddly regal, elegant, moreso than any Lady of the Court Cassandra had known - except for, perhaps, Leliana's, whose hands were similarly small and well-versed with the bow.
Shaking herself of her thoughts, the Seeker continued, showing Zanneth how to sit and hold her back, how to move with the animal so the was not too sore at the end of the day.
Cullen turned from seeing Cassandra and the Herald off, looking around at their strange camp. It was half military camp, half refugee camp, built in a place that not so many weeks before had been a place to which people made pilgrimage alongside the Divine. It likely had been the only time people of such humble origins would ever see Her Eminence in person. Yet another reason to regret the explosion.
Next to him, Sister Leliana also turned to face the village. As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, he was perplexed to see the area below her breast begin to squirm. It was so shocking that he turned his head to see what might be wrong, just to see the spymaster pull a kitten out of her cloak. She set it down, and it wandered off into the bushes to void itself.
Such a juxtaposition: the cold, hard spymaster caring for such a tiny, warm, helpless thing.
Piercing blue eyes snapped up to his, and Leliana smiled briefly. The smile did not reach those crystal-blue eyes, however. She was so familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place her face. The red hair framing those eyes, though… he was sure he'd seen her before his arrival in Haven.
"Good morning, Commander," she said. Her voice carried both the lilt of an Orlesian accent and the slightly nasal sound of the deaf.
"Good morning, Sister Leliana."
"I trust you are well?"
"I am, yes. And yourself?"
Her eyes cut into him. "I wish I could hear the morning birdsong, but I will survive merely knowing that the Inquisition is making progress."
Cullen was not quite sure how to respond to that. He didn't get the chance, however, as Leliana turned then, scooping up the black and white kitten that had tottered back over to her and striding purposefully back up to her tent by the Chantry.
What an odd woman, he found himself thinking.
"Cullen!"
The commander turned with a smile on his lips. There was Revka, grey eyes bright in the crisp morning. Even under her fur cloak and many skirts, he could see the faint sway of her hips as she walked carefully over the ice on the path. The barest hint of the shape of her body made his heart pound, and he found his body responding to wicked thoughts about her even as he watched her walk up to him.
"Hello, my darling girl," he said. It immediately left a sour taste in his mouth.
She raised a dark eyebrow at him. "Really? 'Darling girl'?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "I agree. Didn't quite feel right. I'll think of something to call you."
Coming up to him, she took his hand in her own. "I suggest you treat me like a grown woman and call me by my name. My father used to call me that."
He smiled. "I suppose I can do that." Pausing, he regarded her out of the corner of his eye as they began walking back into the village. "You… seem troubled."
She sighed, continuing to look ahead. Cullen wasn't sure what he ought to do. If it were him, he would want the time to collect his thoughts. But she was not him. Perhaps he should pry for her thoughts? Leave her alone? Demand she tell him what was wrong?
He settled for a middle ground. "In fact, you have seemed troubled and slightly distant for the last several days."
She finally looked askance at him. "You are not wrong."
Cullen was more confused than ever by her answer. "I… am not sure I know where to go from here. Is it something I did or said?"
Another sigh. "I fear I, too, am not sure where to go. Or even where to begin."
Cullen regarded her for a moment before changing their direction, heading back out toward the frozen lake. "Walk with me. I promise I'll listen until you're through talking."
She smiled, her hand tightening a little in his, and he knew he'd chosen the right course.
After a silent few minutes, she finally spoke. "Leliana mentioned something to me a few days ago, and I am still not sure how to feel about it."
"Oh?"
"She said you know my sister, Cullen."
His heart kicked in his chest before dropping down through his gut. But he was also incredibly confused. "I… how does she know this?"
Revka pulled her hand from his, stopping and fixing him with a glare. "That is what you focus on?!" she asked, her tone incredulous. "Why did you never tell me, Cullen?!"
Cullen felt his face grow red. "I…"
She heaved a great sigh before setting off again, continuing their walk. He couldn't help but notice how she did not take his hand up again. He trudged after her through the snow and ice like a reprimanded child.
Finally, he asked her, "What would know of it?"
Her grey eyes met his for just a moment. "All of it. And then I want to know why you never said anything, despite the fact that Leliana was correct."
He sighed. "Alright. But… can I ask one simple question first?" Silence met him. He hoped that was permission to ask. "How does Sister Leliana know Solona?"
"They have been lovers these many years."
Cullen was so shocked he stopped in his tracks. "They what?!"
Revka whirled around, piercing him with eyes that were such a match for Solona's that even ten years later he could easily envision the mage here. It was the same look the white-haired Grey Warden had given him during his rage-induced call for the death of all the mages left in the Tower. It was a look he hoped he never received from his lover again.
"And are you jealous of Leliana? Do you wish you could have my sister in your bed instead of me? Did you know who I was, who my sister was, when you accepted me in your rooms that first night? Was I just a substitute for the love my sister never returned to you?!"
Cullen opens the door at the knock. It is peculiar, as it is quite late. There is a flurry of snow and the swish of a cloak as a body moves past him, too quickly for him quite to see who it is. The scent that wafts by him informs him, however. Lavender oil and the vaguest scent of sun kissed honeysuckle.
It is Revka.
"What can I do for..." He trails off as her gorgeous grey eyes, so familiar for reasons yet unknown, meet his. The gaze is cutting, intense. He feels as though she has been hunting him, and now she circles in to make the final lunge.
Without a word, the woman's cloak opens, revealing a sight he never would have expected: satin, petal-soft breasts, a full expanse of bare belly, and a dark triangle of thick hair, a deep ocean in which he immediately wishes to be swallowed. His eyes snap back up to hers, and he watches as she deliberately slips out of the heavy snow-boots she wears, pulling the ties to her cloak and letting it slip off of her shoulders. His eyes follow the cloak, watching as it puddles around her boots.
Yes. Yes, she has made her final lunge. She came here to make her kill.
The thought has him immediately aroused.
"We hadn't talked about your missing sister by that point, Revka!" His face felt permanently heated. He was so young then. Younger than Revka is now. His infatuation with Solona… it was forbidden. "I was a different man then! I was young, and foolish! I knew my feelings were wrong, but I…" He sighed, deflating a little.
He should not be so defensive. He should reaffirm his feelings first, then go from there. If he learned nothing else from a married comrade of his, he'd had that lesson nearly beaten into him when he would scoff at stories of his arguments with his wife. If she is doubting your love in her, you need to reaffirm it before anything else. The goal is not to escape blame like a child. It is to come to the other side of the argument with an understanding between you. Cullen never quite knew what that might look like, of course, but he felt this was one of those times.
"No. No, you were not a replacement for her, Revka. I want you. I love you. I have not been carrying a torch for her all these years."
Revka frowned. "I love you, as well, Cullen. But this… you knew the whole time. Why did you not tell me?"
Cullen raked his gloved fingers through his hair in frustration. "When was I supposed to tell you, Revka? 'I'm sorry your sister is missing. I used to know her, and I fancied her. Just, you know… thought you ought to know'?! It didn't seem fair to tell you! It was never a good time, and it seemed… selfish, to turn it on me. Plus…" His shoulders sagged, and he turned away.
Revka's voice was soft, still full of hurt, but not so full of anger, as she asked, "What?"
He took a deep breath. "I am ashamed." Another deep breath. "I believed that what we did was right and just, because it was all I had been taught. I followed my orders. Just like I followed my orders in Kirkwall. I am ashamed of what I allowed to happen, without even questioning it within myself. Solona had run, she deserved to be punished. We were there to protect her!" Cullen paused, heaving a great sigh even as he cringed internally to think of his former self. "Orders do need to be followed, but…" He turned his eyes up to hers once more, seeking out her understanding. "I long to be the commander I wish I had then. I long to give orders I would myself follow without question, even as I want lieutenants who would think critically of those orders. Those days… they are shameful. That part of my life is full of shame. I am a selfish man, Revka. I care far too much of how you think of me. I would spare you my shame so that you might see me in a better light. Especially since it so intimately involves your sister and her… public humiliation."
He had not shared all the details. He could not stand to see the look in her eyes should she discover that he had held Solona down while they shaved and branded her. That was truly his deepest shame. It had taken far too long for him to realize it, and he could not bear to see Revka lose all respect for him. He had shared enough. Let him keep his deepest, darkest demons to himself.
"You beautiful, stubborn, insufferable man," Revka whispered, and she was in his arms, pulling his face down for a brief yet scorching kiss. "You are unbearably noble. Why must you be so insufferably good?"
Cullen was confused. Wasn't she just angry with him? Why was she now kissing him and hugging him? He wouldn't question it out loud, however. He would merely hug her to him and thank the Maker he was able to articulate himself.
"This is not over," she said, her voice somewhat muffled by his cloak. "I'm still not happy you kept this from me. But… but I suppose I can understand your reasons. Even if you were wrong," she finished, her tone pointed.
"Yes," he said. He had been wrong so much lately. What was once more? Especially if it kept this strong, beautiful, intelligent woman in his arms. "Yes, you're right. I'm… sorry. I thought it best, but I think I can see why you would rather the unpleasant truth to being kept in the dark."
He felt her nod, and then she was pulling away, taking his hand, and tugging him to continue their walk. "So," she said, fixing him with a small smirk. "What first drew you to her?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, my sister is charming as can be. More than one noble who met her in Val Royeaux had hoped to drag her off to bed. So what first drew you?"
Cullen couldn't help but smile, even as his face flushed. "Well… she's terribly funny…"
"Do you miss your clan?"
Zanneth started, pulling her attention from her discomfort in the saddle. She and Cassandra had ridden in silence for hours, even as those around them - Varric, Bull, Solas, and a handful of Inquisition soldiers - joked and laughed. Well, Solas did not joke, nor did he laugh. He was more serious than even Zanneth.
They were still in the mountains, heading north on a path between peaks to Jader before taking ship across the Waking Sea straight to Val Royeaux. Zanneth was not familiar with the maps, but the humans knew where they were going, so the elf did not argue. Soon the Frostback mountains would be rising gracefully behind them, and the need for their cloaks would disappear with the frigid mountains, as it was only barely turning from summer to autumn.
"I…" The elf was not sure how to answer Cassandra's question. Do I miss them? I miss Grandmother. I weep for Hyune and Sinna. I miss Hyune so much. But… I do not miss the rest of them. The realization was startling. She was somewhat dismayed to realize that she already had a closer relationship with Varric and Revka, with Cassandra who did not even speak much, than she did with most members of her clan.
Her seat on the horse was suddenly stifling. "Can… can we stop for a little while?" Zanneth twisted, looking up into Cassandra's cinnamon eyes. "You said we would stop soon for a meal, yes?"
Cassandra stiffened, and only then did Zanneth realize how closely the human's body had molded to her own as they rode, even given that the warrior wore heavy armor. "Did I upset you?" Cassandra asked, her eyes filling with concern.
"No, it was nothing you said. I just… wish to stretch my legs. I feel stiff." Truly, she needed some time alone to think on her revelation.
Cassandra's gaze pierced right through Zanneth. It was clear to the elf that the warrior knew it was more than that. But after a moment of that intense stare, the human nodded, looking around behind them to the others. "We will halt here for the midday meal," she announced, stopping the horse and dismounting in one smooth move. Her presence at Zanneth's back - solid, strong, and oh so very warm - was immediately missed. When the elf took Cassandra's hand to be helped down from the horse's back, she noted how warm and brightly the mark on her hand glowed upon contact.
The Seeker's eyes grew large as Zanneth's feet touched the ground. "I can feel it," the human said, her face and her tone clearly showing her awe. Zanneth's face flushed, but she allowed Cassandra to turn her hand and examine her palm. The warrior's calloused hands were surprisingly careful, and her eyes reflected the green glow emanating from Zanneth's palm. "Does it pain you?"
The elf shook her head. "No longer. It… feels like something is there, but it is not painful. Perhaps it is tied to the Breach? Do you think it will change or disappear when the Breach is closed?"
"I cannot say." Cassandra released Zanneth's hand, allowing the elf to lower her arm to her side. "I suppose we can only wait and see." Zanneth nodded, staring down at her faintly-glowing palm.
After a moment, she turned away, looking into the distance. Somewhere past the mountains was the Dales, the homeland her people were given, only to have the shemlen's Chantry declare an Exalted March and drive them away, destroying their lives and culture over once more. Yet Cassandra, Revka, Josephine… all of them were kind people, nonplussed by her pointed ears and Dalish ways. But many of the servants in Haven were elves. Zanneth did not know what to think. It was all so much more complicated than she had ever thought.
"I do not believe that I have not offended you," Cassandra's voice sounded, recalling Zanneth's eyes. "But I will leave you alone." The human turned, leading her horse away to be staked out with the others.
Sighing, Zanneth began walking off the path into the snow, not headed anywhere but away.
How did I end up here? I am supposed to be spying on humans. I am supposed to go back to my clan, marry Sinna. We are to make a new aravel with our own hands. We are to raise this child, and others, together. I am to watch Hyune grow into the good man he will be. I am supposed to watch him with my children, with his own children. I am to bury my grandmother in several seasons and pray to the Creators to take her home.
Instead I am here, with humans, a dwarf, and a bloody qunari after I supposedly walked the Beyond?! Where is Sinna? Where is Hyune? I was not personally close to him, but others will feel Relarian's absence. I am supposed to raise this child alone? And this journey to Val Royeaux and back will last as long as a month… will they still want me as their Herald when the quickening is upon me? Do they all feel how that healer felt?
I am surrounded by hostility. If I show any of what has befallen me, I am in danger. That is how it always is with humans.
I can't… I don't know…
Zanneth fell to her knees, overcome with emotion. Tears fell silently down her face as she gazed into the distance, her focus inward. She wept for Hyune. She wept for Sinna and the love she could not seem to muster inside for him. She cried for her child, who would never know its father or uncle. She wept for her self, for all the concerns she now faced, for the future she had lost.
She did not want to go back to her clan. She did not want this child, not truly. She had not wanted Sinna. She had gone along with all of it because it was what had been expected of her, and because that was the best way to ensure a future for her clan. But they were not here. Only she was here, fighting a battle for the entire world. It was too much. She did not know how she would be able to continue.
Perhaps I should just disappear into the woods and not look back. Let these Chantry people take care of their own problems…
Strong hands were on Zanneth's shoulders, and she found herself drawn into familiar, strong arms. She was surrounded by the scents of leather, wood, steel, and spice, and she knew that it was Cassandra, ever vigilant, not at all missing the elf falling to her knees and weeping. After spending all morning practically in the woman's embrace, Zanneth felt she would never forget that particular combination of aromas.
Any other time this embrace would have made the huntress stiffen, end it as soon as possible, perhaps ask the human what she was thinking. But Zanneth had been alone for so long, without her family for so long, had indeed lost those closest to her – with the exception of her grandmother – that she threw herself into the comfort offered. She started crying in earnest, sobs peeling from her lips in great gasps. Cassandra, solid and strong and silent, let her, the woman's tabard soaking up the elf's tears just as quickly as she produced them.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Zanneth's tears were spent. She felt as a sponge having just been squeezed, voided of all excess moisture. She simply had no more to give. Sitting back, she sniffed and wiped her eyes, glancing up to see Cassandra's brows furrowed in concern.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice somewhat hoarse.
"You are welcome. I… hesitate to assume that was about something I said, but if it was, I hope you will tell me how I have offended you?"
Zanneth shook her head. "It was not you. Not truly. I just…" She sighed. She had to confide in someone. She could not survive keeping all of it to herself like she had been doing. It was clearly not working. This human had been there from the start, first suspecting her but then believing she could do this impossible task, and helping her along the way. Perhaps… perhaps she was safe?
Zanneth took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I was not alone at the Conclave. Three others were with me. One was my brother, one was the First of my clan, and one was… my betrothed. They all perished…"
Cassandra immediately looked stunned. "These were the other voices coming from the rift…"
Zanneth nodded, closing her eyes as a stray tear leaked out. "I have no memory of what happened. All I know is my brother wanted a closer look. He was so foolish! He ran ahead and the rest of us chased him down. But he is… was our fastest hunter. I could not stop him. The next thing I remember is the vague image of a woman, and then seeing you and the deaf sister in the dungeons. I did not know for sure they had died until we tried to close the Breach. I… I heard them murdered, Cassandra! I can't… I can't… I have lost so much. Why must I lose them, too?"
"The world is an unkind place," Cassandra answered, her eyes turned down, gaze intense but kind. "It has stolen much from many of us."
Zanneth sighed, looking away. "It was something you said, but you did not cause offense. The truth is that aside from my grandmother – my clan's Keeper – I do not miss anyone left there. All the hope I had for my future…" I cannot tell her about the life inside of me. That is too much. It is mine, at least until the quickening. "It is gone. It perished in that temple. I have no place to go, no people to go to, and I am utterly alone here in this place. You need me to be strong, to be certain, to be sure. I am sure of nothing anymore, Cassandra. Nothing but my own heartache."
They were quiet for a time after that, Zanneth thinking of Hyune, of the Breach, of how she wished for nothing more than to curl up in her grandmother's lap like she had as a small child. Cassandra's presence at her side, her hand rubbing absently at Zanneth's back, was an unforeseen comfort. Over the course of several minutes, the elf was surprised to find she had shifted, leaning into the warrior's solidity, the human's arm moving to be gently draped around her shoulder.
"When I was very young, my parents were killed." Cassandra's voice was low and soft, and when Zanneth looked up she found the human's gaze fixed on the nearest snow-capped mountaintop. "They took the wrong side in a coup attempt, and as punishment the king had them executed. My brother and I were spared, as we were family, and children at the time. My brother… was my life. I idolized him. We were to be like the dragon hunters of old, he and I. He promised to teach me in secret. He… was taken from me when I was still a young girl. Oh, I was so angry. I was enraged for a very long time.
"Blood mages took him, so I wanted to be a templar, to hunt down mages. The Chantry knew my intention was vengeance, however, and directed me to the Seekers instead. I… found purpose, direction. It was not easy, and I was not necessarily happy, but that purpose has stayed with me. It has made the loss bearable, and it has given me a focus I could not have cultivated on my own. Sometimes I think of how my life would have been had all that tragedy not befallen me. Married, with children of my own? Another of those insufferable, dithering ladies in a frilly dress, living from party to party and spending far too long selecting my mask for the masquerade?"
It was the most words Zanneth had ever heard Cassandra speak. She found it odd that the warrior did so with a comforting arm around the elf. But… Zanneth did not miss the similarities between them. They were an odd sort of comfort. Cassandra knew. She knew this pain, this loss. She had born the weight of it for years, instead of the mere weeks the huntress had.
"In the end, I find such contemplation to be pointless," Cassandra continued. "My life would be different had that not happened, but my life would be different had anything happened differently. If I had had more siblings, if I had not sought vengeance, if I had simply had a penchant for the frilly dresses I cannot stand wearing. I cannot change what happened; I can only change what happens from here. So few people have any power in this world. Your mark allows you to undo some of the chaos tearing at our lands. You have the power to keep other people from experiencing the same loss and sorrow that you and I have both suffered at the hands of those with more power than us. I do not know if it is a comfort to you, but… it always has been for me."
Zanneth had never thought of it like this before. She could save lives by closing the Breach, by closing the rifts. She could save other people the heartache and sorrow she herself was experiencing. If someone could have stopped this from happening, but failed to do so because they were afraid, or wallowing in their sorrow… imagine how different things could be for Zanneth now?
"It is," the elf said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Come again?"
"It is a comfort. If I can spare some child, some husband, some other young elf looking joyously upon her future… if I can spare them this heartache? That is a comfort. I have felt so useless. I have had no task to which I can bend my idle hands, no purpose for my mind to focus upon. This… closing the Breach can be that. I may not know the people I can save, but if I can do so… then I will. Not because I have nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, but because I choose to help, to save those I can. It… may not look different on the outside from what I was doing before, but…"
Cassandra nodded. "But it can make all the difference on the inside. Having a choice in the matter… it is everything. Far too few people have any choice. I am glad that you see that you have some in this."
"Thank you. You could have… mollycoddled me but instead you gave me true words of comfort. Words I can act on. So I thank you."
"You are welcome, though I hardly think it worthy of thanks. I am truly, deeply sorry for your losses. The explosion at the Conclave took many things from many of us. We can take comfort and power in our shared losses, but it is so difficult to share in the first place and believe that others will understand. I am humbled that you would share such a thing with me."
Zanneth nodded. "I needed someone. You are… safe. I cannot say why. But I appreciate you here, with me, always at just the right moments. My head was filled with such doubt. Then you were here, and I now feel I can do this thing that must be done."
Cassandra was quiet a moment, merely sitting on her knees with an arm draped over Zanneth's shoulders. Then she was moving, finding her feet before holding out a hand for the elf. "Come. Let us eat something. There is still quite a bit of daylight left in which to travel."
Nodding, Zanneth took the outstretched hand. The mark once again glowed warmly and brightly at the contact.
A/N: A note on arguments. Namely, I don't tend to do extended arguments or fighting well. It's just not something I do in my own life. My parents used to do the kind of fighting that I was embarrassed about because the whole fucking street knew they were fighting and what it was about. I vowed then to never, ever resort to that kind of behavior with anyone in my life. I tend to write arguments where people articulate themselves well and really try to understand the other person and there's no yelling.
That said, I imagine there will be moments where I'll need to channel my inner rage monster and have an argument that lasts longer than five minutes. I can already think of one or two that we're headed toward eventually.
But for the most part... what you saw above is typically how it goes. People may not reach an understanding right away, but they will reach a place where they can talk about it somewhat quickly and move on. I just have no interest in writing a fight for pages and pages and pages just to show all the details of it.
The only reason I'm addressing this now is because I've been called out on Leliana and Solona tending to understand each other too quickly. And all I've got is... that's what I do. I mean, my wife and I talk and talk and talk until we understand each other, but I refuse to write hours and hours worth of lesbian processing into this fic. It's gonna be long enough without all that.
So. Yeah. Just thought I'd head that off near the beginning. I write romances where people understand each other and where the people in the relationship are each other's calm rock. You probably won't see me write much rollercoaster-esque with the emotional ups and downs. It's just not my thing. :)
On a different note, writing Solona in absentia - not there but always on someone's mind - is kind of fun! I imagine it's kind of torture for all y'all, though...