Go back if you didn't read Thursdays, double post this week!

Sorry it's so short and a bit lame. I needed to do some kind of closure-y thing.

Smoke And Tears.

She inhaled more of the dusty stale air, and loosed another arrow; it found its mark, straight through a hurlock's eye. The faintest of smiles touched her lips as the hurlock dropped to the floor, dead. Arietta had ordered all of those able to fight to the cellars to clear out any remaining darkspawn threats in the tunnels than ran below the Keep.

Coline hadn't developed much of an opinion of their Commander yet, but she certainly got shit done; the pyres were being built, the corpses gathered and identified, and every survivor had been given jobs to do. The Commander held herself like the noble that she was, but she wasn't pompous or arrogant, and she was clearly devastated by the deaths despite not knowing any of them personally.

Arietta and Rafael were fighting back to back in the centre of the room, quite artfully too. It was strange to see Rafael fighting so intimately with almost a complete stranger, but Coline had to admit, their fighting styles complimented each other beautifully. Arietta was pinpoint accurate, using stealth and precision to deliver fatal blows, whereas Rafael got in close and personal, keeping the foe distracted for her.

Oghren, on the other hand, was a vile, gruesome and messy fighter. His axe swings severed limbs, cut through blood vessels and ripped out guts, and soon the entire room stank of rotting flesh and taint. And the floor... the floor was a slippery pool of body parts and fluids. It was disgusting. Olivia was much more graceful, but not any less brutal with her attacks. It was always strange to see her turn from a sweet, friendly woman into a battering ram of death.

Coline remained in the doorway where nothing could sneak up on her, or get splattered onto her by the smelly dwarf. She loosed another arrow into a genlock trying to sneak up on Rafael; the arrow landed in its neck, and it started to gurgle. Rafael heard the noise, and finished it off with a small nod at Coline in thanks.

The cellars weren't just full of darkspawn though; there were ghouls, undead and even prisoners still alive, trapped in their cells, begging for freedom. Arietta and Olivia freed them without much thought. Rafael didn't seem too impressed, but he didn't say anything either.

And then a pile of rubble blocked their path.

"It must have collapsed from the dwarves' damned explosives," Rafael muttered, ruffling his curls with his hand.

"Will leaving the rubble here stop the darkspawn?" Arietta asked, as she inspected the fallen debris, pressing her hand against the rock.

Rafael gave it a good kick. "Seems solid enough, but I don't want to leave it to chance."

"There could be some Deep Road tunnels further in, maybe even some dwarven doors that we could close," Olivia suggested, as she wiped down her sword of darkspawn blood.

"Oh aye, those would be good," Oghren grunted.

"I'm sure Voldrik can cut a way through," Rafael said in agreement.

"Okay, we'll let Sergeant Maverlies know." Arietta turned to leave.

Maverlies was one of the few soldiers left alive. A good woman, though a little cold, she mostly kept to herself. There were rumours that she and Gable were dating. Coline wondered if they were true, and if so, how the woman was feeling now; if she was heartbroken, she certainly didn't show it.

Coline, on the other hand, was a mess. She had barely held herself together long enough to fight off the remaining darkspawn. Having a goal, a purpose helped, but there was so much death around them, so much unnecessary loss. Tamsin had been on the ground, lifeless and cold, her body butchered by swords and arrows. Coline didn't love her; she couldn't even really consider her a friend. They got along well and spent time together, but they didn't talk much. Coline didn't even know her surname, or if she had any brothers or sisters, or any other number of things that a friend should know. Tamsin was wonderfully submissive, something quite difficult to find, especially among the Wardens; most of the Order were all thrill junkies or power hungry. But Tamsin bent over backwards for Coline, and trusted her entirely.

She had only ever cried once before, when a small village had been attacked. The brutality of their deaths had made Coline sick to her stomach, and Tamsin had been there, kissing her, licking her, touching her. It was the only time she let the other woman in; after it was done, she went back to their usual clinical routine. But today she couldn't seem to stop the tears from falling down her, most likely filthy face. It was just one more thing that had slipped through her fingers, one more thing that had made her happy, lost forever. One more thing she had no control over.

They reached the yard once more, where three pyres stood. Around the edges were the corpses of the fallen Wardens, soldiers, servants and staff, covered by sheets and blankets. Coline was grateful she wouldn't need to see any of their dead, lifeless faces staring up at her; watching Esteban and Edd die had been enough to make her knees go weak and her stomach churn. It was horrible. She was glad she had only found Tamsin's body; Coline probably would have lost it completely if she had seen the Nevarran die.

They loaded the Warden's pyre first – there were so many bodies. Of the sixteen Wardens that had come over from Orlais to help run the Keep only five now remained. Five. Lenny and Max were badly hurt but would be okay, but they were all in mourning, all exhausted, all lost. Rafael lifted a body, placing kisses on either side of its cheeks – she didn't need to see the body to know that it was Esteban that he was placing on the pyre. He had been a wonderful man, always laughing; she would miss his laugh. Even those she didn't particularly like, she knew she would miss; things were going to be so quiet now. She watched as Varel and Rafael lifted Gable's body onto the pyre next, giving him the recognition he deserved as a brother.

Coline wiped her eyes again, annoyed at herself for breaking down so easily. But she didn't handle surprises well – she never had. So much could change in an instant, and this was testament to that. For so long the Wardens had been a stable structure that she could rely upon; there was a routine, a set way of things, but now? It had all been obliterated, erased. Through the smoke and her watery eyes, she was struggling to see how any of them would carry on after this.

She watched as they loaded up the other pyres. The one for soldiers was piled high. It made sense, of course; they hadn't been trained to fight darkspawn. The final pyre for servants and staff was even larger – a slaughter, that's what this had been. The question on everyone's lips was why? Why had this happened?

"Wardens! Brothers, sisters, friends," the Commander called out as she held a flickering torch. "Today we grieve. We grieve for the lives taken, for the people we lost, for the futures that won't be. They were taken from us unjustly, abruptly, and by those we are sworn to fight." She paced up and down the pyres as she spoke, eyeing them all with icy blue eyes. "Tomorrow, we will fight back. Tomorrow we will show the darkspawn why one attack will never be enough to best us, why any number of attacks will not be enough, why the Blight was not enough. They attacked us at our home, they thought to surprise us... well, we shall surprise them. Nothing is stronger than the bond of a family recently put through a tragedy." Arietta lit the first pyre, and then the next and the next. "United we stand and scattered they will fall!" she shouted, as the flames whooshed across the corpses, bathing the yard in a fierce orange. They all cheered their agreement, and then watched the flames with their arms crossed over their chests.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and everything, guys! The next two chapters are much longer than the past two and hopefully a lot more exciting as well. Thanks Lys for the beta work as always, you rock! See you all Thursday ^^