Taissa Lavellan knew the night was likely her last. If, by some miracle, she survived through the morning, it would mean she was no longer in this world – in this timeline. Lavellan would be back in her rightful place in the past. Dorian and Lavellan had been hurtled one year into the future by Alexius, and now another year had come to pass. Funny how things went. Even though she met them first, her friends in the past were strangers compared to the versions she had been embedded with over the last year.
It was one of the subjects she didn't bring up with Cullen. They refrained from talking about the Commander back in Haven. It was better to keep the two separate. In fact, she doubted she'd return. It seemed like a betrayal, but sometimes, Lavellan wished she could just stay in this future, even though darkness reigned. It was more familiar to her now. She'd lose her footing and have to go back to the start if she returned. However, Lavellan had to try. She owed it to the thousands of people who had perished all across Thedas in her absence and since her return, when the war effort had been rejuvenated and survivors had picked their swords back up in her name. They referred to her as the Herald of Andraste more than ever, despite how the marred sky turned greener with every passing day and the dead continued to pile at her feet.
Lavellan felt more like a barbarian queen, an Avaar, rather than anything resembling Andraste. She absentmindedly ran her hand across her scalp. Where thick white hair once fell wildly from her head was stubble less than an inch long. She was not a sentimental woman about her beauty, but her prematurely aged locks had been a source of pride for her. Now she looked no different than the many soldiers she commanded, though her simple but bold June vallaslin continued to make her stand out when face-to-face, even against the deep brown of her skin.
Her fingers, which now fidgeted with Cullen's lucky coin on a delicate chain around her neck, were grasped by hands just as callused as hers. Cullen's lips pressed to the top of head, and she turned to face him.
"Have you been awake long? Did you sleep at all?" His voice was rough from sleep, but his worried tone managed to come through. The worry was constant these days, but they both learned to manage it as much as possible. Tonight, however, was the last night, and the air was tense.
"Hmm." Lavellan didn't want to lie, so a noncommittal noise was the next best option. She continued staring at the crumbling ceiling above the bed they occupied in an abandoned house outside of Redcliffe. "What should I say to you?"
He sighed, pulling her into his arms. "So you didn't sleep."
Lavellan buried her face against his shoulder and pillow so that all she saw when she opened her eyes was blackness. "What should I say?"
"You're mumbling, and I can barely hear you."
She reluctantly raised out of her dark, safe spot, kissing his jaw, which bristled as much as his own shorn hair. For solidarity, he had said, but there was also no time for him to mind his own unwieldy curls.
"What should I tell the Cullen back then?" She drew out her question with long syllables so that he wouldn't be able to ignore it. Held flush against him, Lavellan felt his body stiffen.
There was nothing but silence from him. Outside, she could hear preparations for battle beginning. She rolled to the side of the bed, planning on getting ready for whatever the early morning would bring, but Cullen wouldn't let her. "I don't know. How can any of this be explained? And should it?" he groaned, covering his eyes.
Lavellan looked out the small window and saw a group of soldiers gather around a captain as he gave orders. She shrugged. "Maybe I won't get the chance."
"Don't say that," he ordered, his tone more reverent than commanding. He released her, and she sat up and rolled her breeches on. "Perhaps, you could reveal the nature of our relationship. I don't know how that will affect things; all I know is that you helped save me, and I bet you'd save him, too."
He came up from behind to wrap her in his arms and kiss her deeply, distracting her from getting dressed. "Cull-" she breathlessly murmured against his lips.
"I know... the final battle awaits." He touched his forehead to hers. "I love you."
"I love you, too." The words were simple and frequently exchanged between the two, but the weight of them was significant in this moment.
Cullen moved to help her suit up in her well-used armor, with its dents from red templar blades and scorches from Venatori magic. May it protect her today. Gods know what would happen should she fail.
They had done it. The rift that was forming glowed as Dorian performed time magic with the assistance of the amulet recovered from Alexius. Lavellan was exhausted, her body drenched in blood and sweat, but the exhilaration at defeating Alexius and being so close to escape kept her on her feet. Outside were the cries of battle as her compatriots sacrificed their lives to ensure Dorian and her made it out safely. Leliana and Cullen stood between the shaking door and them, positioned to fight. His back was to her, but Lavellan's eyes were focused on him rather than the spellwork. In swarmed a horde of nightmarish fiends, bloodcurdling cries echoing throughout the hall. Leliana and Cullen leapt to action, her bow firing rapidly and his sword slicing through air and flesh.
Lavellan's heart was in her throat. She teared herself away to check on Dorian, who was still working on his spell. From the perspiration that gleamed at this brow, she could tell he also knew the stakes.
When she turned around, it was already too late. Leliana and Cullen had fallen. She had been run through, and his form lay prone on the floor. Lavellan wanted to run to him, but her feet carried her forward to the portal, and she jumped in with Dorian.
When Lavellan appeared in front of Alexius, Dorian at her side, she could hardly believe it. They had made it. They were back at the time when this had all started. Her legs gave out from under her, and Dorian reached out to prevent her from collapsing. It felt so strange. She knew she should deal with Alexius, but Varric and Iron Bull already had him pinned, and soldiers were marching in. Varric and Iron Bull. Their skin was unmarred, their pupils the right color. They were alive.
Lavellan was aware that Dorian was yelling something at her, Dorian and Iron Bull too. She couldn't process what they were saying. All she heard was a rushing sound.
"We did it, my dear," Dorian managed to drag her to her feet. "Let's settle this business with Alexius."
Alexius crumbed once he realized his plan had been foiled, and Felix would face death. Lavellan almost felt sorry for the man, but having seen the future, she could only regard him with disgust. Soldiers came up and took Alexius away in chains.
It was over. Alexius was captured. All she wanted to do was be out of that blasted place, but then in marched Ferelden soldiers and King Alistair. Blah, blah, mages, Redcliffe, bitching at Fiona. All Lavellan could do was stare at him. The king was alive and breathing. The room went quiet, and she concluded that someone had asked for her input. She sided with mages, sympathetic for the persecution they faced, and because of her friendship with Dorian. At last it was time to move out, and Lavellan could hardly wait to see Haven whole again.
Of course, her advisors had wanted to speak to her as soon as she arrived back at Haven. The brief reports they had gotten from the crows had deeply concerned them, to say the least. Dorian had been able to convince them to let her have the night to herself, for which she was incredibly grateful. When she had rode through the gates on her horse, her companions, advisors, and the citizens who had gathered to welcome the party home cheered for her, but there were also stares. Lavellan was aware that she didn't look the same way she did just days ago. She wore brand-new scars. Her once voluminous ponytail of tight ringlets had vanished, and the cheap but sturdy mail she had worn on her departure was replaced by a worn but extravagant set of the best silverite armor money could buy.
Returning to her cabin, Lavellan wasn't sure what to do with herself. She managed to strip off her armor by herself and start up a fire. While the heat warmed up her fingers and toes, nausea washed over her, and soon she was back out in the snow in only her thin linen shirt. A passerby gave her a curious look as she made her way to the side of the cabin and promptly emptied the contents of her stomach into the snow. The coldness of the air bit at her skin, and she hurried back inside. Lavellan managed to procure a wooden bucket from her room and kept it at her side until she fell asleep - which, unfortunately, wasn't for quite a while. Between the queasiness, the elation at being in the present, the lack of familiarity with her surroundings, and missing the world she had become acquainted with, she was a ball of nerves and conflicting emotions.
Lavellan was deep asleep when the scout awoke her. Ever since the Conclave, she had donned armor every day, much like Cullen. This morning, however, the thought of pulling it on was tiring in itself. Instead, Lavellan selected a loose tunic and leather leggings that dug into her bloated stomach. She prayed that she did not have the urge to vomit this morning or fall asleep while standing. The time jump had left her out of sorts.
The scout led her into the room where Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen were waiting. Cassandra was also present, leaning against one of the walls. She was anxious upon noticing that Dorian was absent, but a pair of hands fell on her shoulders, alarming her. Dorian had arrived right behind her. With a signal to the scout who had escorted her, the doors were closed behind them.
"Herald, I hope you slept well," Josephine greeted her with a smile.
Cullen nodded at her, his expression warm but with no heat behind it. His face wasn't as lined as it was in the future, but it wasn't as soft when he regarded her. His hair gleamed in the candlelight from some sort of product, and Lavellan had to resist the urge to reach out and pull at one of his wavy locks.
"Well, we have much to discuss if we could get started." Leliana held a stack of parchment in her hands. "Shall I start at the beginning?"
Leliana read back the reports Dorian had sent on Lavellan's behalf during their journey back to Haven. She was thankful that Dorian had seemingly only provided the highlights, skipping over the more intimate details. The discussion of what had happened when they arrived was easy enough to withstand, but hearing the recounting of the future caused her to sweat.
Dorian and Lavellan had been sent one year into the future. It was a much darker world: one where the Elder One reigned. Varric and Iron Bull had been kept in cells and exposed to red lyrium. Leliana, meanwhile, had been tortured. They had managed to get to Alexius, but were not able to find his amulet before demons swarmed them. Varric and Iron Bull had sacrificed themselves, staying behind to fight off the hordes while Dorian, Leliana, and Lavellan escaped. Leliana led them back to what remained of their old group. Cassandra and Cullen were running the show. Vivienne, Josephine, and Blackwall were still there, though Sera had perished and Solas had disappeared into thin air. Hawke was there too, and some of her friends. Levallan closed any breaches she could while they made plans to return to Redcliffe and search for the amulet. The rifts between Skyhold and there were numerous, and the assaults were constant. Scouts reported a massive wave heading their way, and they all believed it to be the end. Blackwall died in the battle, and Vivienne shortly thereafter. Amazingly, Lavellan and her other companions had survived. They left behind their temporary base and had their army sneak into the castle for one last attempt. Every single person except for Dorian and Lavellan fell in the onslaught, but they recovered the amulet and jumped back to the present before they could be killed.
Hearing all of it made her stomach roll. She was aware of the others talking, but her mind was focused on whether or not to exit the room and go heave in the corridor.
"Are you alright? Are you ill?" Cullen's questions, the concern evident in his voice, caught her attention.
The Lavellan of a year ago – or a couple of days ago in this timeline – would have brushed him off, not wishing her advisors to find her weak. But she was not the same person anymore. "No, I am not alright. Frankly, coming back here has been quite a transition."
"I can get a healer," Josephine offered.
"I think some herbal tea is in order," Dorian declared, stepping out of the room to ask one of the scouts outside to bring in a cup for the Herald. "They're bringing some."
"Great." Lavellan pressed a palm to her damp forehead.
"I hope you do feel better, Herald. You should take time to rest before we close the Breach," Leliana soothed, reaching out to rest a gentle hand on her arm.
Lavellan nodded and took a deep breath, eager to exit the stuffy room, be alone, and rest.