"Tarasyl'an Te'las"

When Liz awoke the next day, it was in pain. Instantaneous pain. Not physical pain, no. But her insides hurt, her chest hurt. Her heart. It was like a hold had opened up and was threatening to swallow her whole.

The young woman sat up quietly, ignoring the prickling feeling in her eyes. Tears were threatening to spill. But she refused. She pushed it all back, into that box. But the image of Maxwell walking away, exiting the Chantry into the bowls of Haven as it burned down flashed into her mind. It took all she had to shake that thought away.

That's when she noticed that the Seeker was sitting inside of the tent with her. A lantern of some sort sat atop a box, bedrolls spread out. The tent was obviously shared by four different people. Including herself. The sky was dark outside, the orange hues of campfires flickered nearby. She winced and looked over at Cassandra, feeling anger surface at the sight of her. Hadn't she been the one to knock her out?

"You." She hissed and rubbed the back of her sore head, "Why… was it you?"

She wasn't sure.

Cassandra shook her head, "I am sorry it had to happen that way. But he made me promise not to let you follow."

Liz bit back any words she was going to say to the woman, feeling guilty. Her gaze flicked to her hands, which clenched the blankets in her lap. She'd only been upholding a promise. Right. It would be just like the man to make someone watch over her. The mage stared down at the scratchy wool blanket that was draped over her legs. Eyes hidden behind her mass of brunette bangs.

"He was … he was a very admirable man." Cassandra said, voice still strong but wobbly. "Don't let his sacrifice be in vain."

Her hand was on the young mage's shoulder as she stared off toward where Haven was supposed to be. Just outside of the tent flap, which was pinned open. Some people passed by, but didn't look inside.

"He wanted me to be there for you." She continued when Liz didn't speak, her gaze blank as she stared outside of the tent. "I understand how you feel, Erin. But you cannot give up just yet."

The young woman got a feeling that she really did understand her situation. If the tone of her voice was anything to go by. In fact, the statement in itself seemed to cause a wave of tears to come back. But she fought against them again. Doing what she usually does. Forget. Ignore.

Her face fell into a blank mask as she lay back down, facing away from the woman. Liz paid no heed to the sad sigh from the warrior as she stood up and left.

She promised. She promised she would keep him safe. Promised Erin that she would look after her brother. But she couldn't even keep that, because of her cowardice. Because of her selfishness.

Liz couldn't even do that right.

'What have I done?'

It should have been her.

Cole

There were so many people that died at Haven. Most of them had been soldiers, fighting to protect their home. Fighting for what they believed in.

Cole couldn't do enough to ease the pain of a young widow who'd lost her husband in the battle. Her sorrow ran too deep, but he did remind her that part of him was still with her. He'd pointed at her stomach, to which her eyes had widened. She hadn't known.

When he left, she didn't remember him. But she still felt it. Hope. A sliver of light, planted within her. It wasn't enough to stop the pain. But it did help, nonetheless. That had to be enough.

He'd led two soldiers together. Lost on the battlefield, they hadn't known if their best friend had survived. Wracked with survivor's guilt, the two held onto one another like a lifeline. Relief.

Most of his time had been near the healer's tents, easing the woes of the men and women. Occasionally children. The thought caused the spirit's shoulders to slump. Children that had lost a parent. Sometimes both. One had even seen his little brother die.

Everything seemed to filter into the young man, causing his shoulders to sag lower and lower as he skittered around the camp. It was like a weight had settled on his shoulders.

But then Maxwell had survived. He knew, because he could see his light far beyond the crest of the mountain that night. The moons were high into the sky, offering a clear view of the stumbling young man. A branch held in his hands, a makeshift walking stick.

Cole helped carry the young man to the healer's tents, where he was promptly given medical care. The healers and mages that entered the empty tent filed in as he stood in the corner, unseen. Seeing him brought hope. A light within everyone.

Then came Liz, who looked haggard and even more sleep deprived. She stumbled into the tent, eyes wide and unbelieving.

"Max?" She huffed, barely able to catch her breath. Cole could feel the guilt and pain tugging at her chest when she took in his beaten form.

Maxwell's left eye was completely covered in blood, where huge gashes dragged across. From a demon. The rogue could hear the wounds telling him what happened and when. How. Like whispers in the wind. Claws had raked across his face and arm. How he hadn't bled out and died was even a wonder to him.

The other's seemed to have the same thought, horror written on their features as they stared down at him. Almost unsure of where to start. It was Serana who'd gotten to work first, her small pale hands working around the deepest of his wounds. Her hands glowing with magic.

"He's losing too much blood." The frantic voice of Liz, who was also fighting to stem the bleeding. "Serana, please. Do you know how to-"

Maxwell coughed and began to shake, his lone eye rolled back. A shocked gasp exited Liz's lips, the color draining from her features. Her hands moved away from his wounds and to his neck, then his wrist. What she was looking for wasn't there, because the dread that settled in her gut told him otherwise.

"Wh-what's going on?!" Serana squeaked, but didn't cease what she was doing. Trying to knit his wounds together.

"No nono. He's going into cardiac arrest." Liz pulled out Cole's brass dagger from her belt and cut at the young man's leather straps, yanking off his armor. From there she began to press her hands on his chest. Counting underneath her breath. "Serana, tilt his head up and pinch his nose. Breathe into his mouth when I say so."

The elf stuttered for a second, but jumped into action.

"Now!" She paused and Serana began breathing for him. Cole stood, frozen. Shaking. Shouldn't he jump in and try to help? Shouldn't he-

Liz began pushing on his chest again and Cole could only watch. He didn't know anything about being a healer. He fidgeted, pulling at his hand wraps. Maxwell wasn't moving. His song sounded distant, fading. He could feel Liz trying to grasp at him, reaching out but he was slipping through her fingers. Like water.

"It's… not working." Serana sounded so small, guilt. Fear. It rolled off of her, 'I could… I could, I should … but...'

"It will work." Liz hissed, once again using Cole's dagger to rip what remained of his shirt off of him. His bare chest stared back at her, "Scoot back."

'This better work.' He heard Liz say to herself, 'Please please...'

She placed her fingertips on his chest. One hand on the upper part and one on the bottom, right next to his heart. Her hands glowed a bright purple, blue crackling. It hummed and popped. Maxwell's body convulsed, back arching as she pushed her storm magic into him.

She was holding back, trying not to hurt him. She put her finger on his neck. Nothing.

Not enough.

She tried again.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing, girl?!" Adan yelled, angry. He was about to pull her away, but Cole grabbed him. Holding him back. "Get off of me!"

"She knows what she's doing." He tried to offer, but the old man kept struggling.

With what felt like centuries was merely seconds, maybe minutes. The eldest Trevelyan began to breathe, his eye flying back open. Frantic, taking in the sight of the tent.

Serana popped up, forcing a potion down his throat. Her pale gaze snapped up to Cullen, who had been standing still at the tent flap the whole time. "Get them out of here."

She waved off some passerby's who had crowded just outside of the tent. It had been the first time he saw Serana look so stern. Cole watched as the commander turned and pushed the people out of the tent that didn't belong there.

That's when the white haired elf's body began to glow, her pale eyes glowing a bright blue. Her hair framed her face, shielding much it from Liz and Adan. But Cole saw.

The light extended from her body and onto Maxwell, who was laying there having a hard time breathing. It enveloped him, hugging him. Knitting flesh together and stopping most of the bleeding. He watched the skin close completely in some places. Bruises melted into his skin and seemingly disappeared.

The silhouette of a human figure seemed to blur with Serana's body as she concentrated, her mouth moving. As if talking. A bright white shadow, barely there. Inside of her. Cole's eyes widened when it turned and looked up at him. It smiled.

Serana had a friend! Her friend was helping her. He didn't know how or why, but this spirit. Hope, he heard it relay, helped Serana. It seemingly reached out to Cole, part of it caressing him and he practically beamed in return.

It was saying hi!

The trek up into the Frostbacks was harsh. Cole couldn't feel the same things they felt, so thus he didn't feel exhaustion or cold. But he tried to help in whatever ways he could. Giving out spare blankets he'd found and leaving them in their tents. Feeding the animals when they'd been forgotten, usually in favor of caring for people.

Or, even smaller things like leaving an inkwell that he'd found next to Varric's pack so that he could write. Since he'd lost his during the attack. Among other things. The poor man had also lost loads of notes for his new book. Cole couldn't help with that.

They were distraught, though hopeful. 'The Herald of Andraste returned!' They all looked to him in wonder. Awe. He witnessed how much one person could accomplish. One person, who could rally them all and make such a huge difference.

One day, Cole wished he could do that for people.

Though there were also parts of the trip that were difficult on Cole, himself. Pieces of his past, pulling—painful as the memories surfaced. It had come unbidden, raking at his insides when he happened upon one of the healer's tents. He saw a bloodied elven mage, battered from battle. Wanting nothing but for it all to be done. He could hear the pain ringing like a bell, calling to him.

Then it was like he was back in The Pit, standing over a helpless young mage. Knife in hand. Cole shook his head and pulled at the ends of his blonde locks, willing the image away.

Nono. No. He was different now. He wasn't that. He would never be that.

Or the time he saw a templar in his full armor, standing near the animals. His insides had instinctively clenched at the sight. As if on reflex, he'd willed himself out of sight.

So he'd gone off somewhere alone and sat, thinking on it. Wondering why it all still seemed to stick to him, like a stain that never washed out. He looked to the darkened sky, wanting nothing to do with his past life. Clouds rolled in over the mountains, slowly becoming bigger. Telling him that they were going to get more snow.

"Mreow." The sound of a cat came from beside him and broke him out of his musings. Cole turned his head, seeing the same cat that had been trailing after him at Haven all those times.

"Hello." He spoke, smiling at the grey tabby. The rogue bent over and picked it up, feeling the softness of it's fur beneath his fingers. When he began to run his hands along the cat and pet it, his distressed thoughts seemed to melt away. All of this, simply because he focused on the cat.

Intelligent green eyes looked up at him, it's ear flicked back as it tilted it's head. The cat's chest vibrated, purring as it sat on his lap.

"Oooh! A kitty!" A child cooed from his left. Cole's head whipped in their direction, seeing a few of them approach and gather around it.

"I love kitties! What's his name, mister?"

He didn't put up a fight as the eldest girl in the group grabbed the cat and began to turn it around. She lifted the cat's legs and examined it underneath. The girl couldn't have been more then ten years old at most. She scrunched her nose down at the young boy and put one of her hands on her hip.

"It's a her you doof." She stuck her tongue out at the two young boys. The grey tabby simply hung in the ten year old's grip, body flopping limply. "Can I show her to my friends, mister?"

Her eyes were big and watery, begging him to say yes. Cole, hesitantly, nodded. Knowing that they would take care of the cat.

They cheered and passed the cat around, hugging her and giving her attention. As they walked away, Cole could have sworn he saw the grey tabby glare at him. Disdain filtering off of her as she was dragged off by a gaggle of children.

The young rogue's eyes widened, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning. Was that?

Cole bit his lip, fighting back a smile as he turned to walk away. It had been Liz. He wondered why the cat seemed odd. It was watching him, constantly. Almost as if waiting for him to make a bad decision.

In some way, Cole was glad that Liz would watch so closely over him. Making sure he didn't slip up and revert to his old ways. At least he knew if Liz was there, he wouldn't hurt people. She would stop him and kill him if he ever did.

He took relief in that fact.

If she wanted her cat form to remain a secret, he would keep it so. He was, afterall, good at keeping secrets. Kind of. Cole acted oblivious as he went off to do his own business. He was good at that. People tended to think he didn't know much, that he was naive. But he never corrected them.

He knew he didn't know much about the world. Being as odd as it was, to him. But he was far from naive.

Just… different.

Days later, he stumbled upon Liz finally making friendly conversation with someone. He knew that she had been having a hard time connecting with anyone on a more personal level. So he sat and observed, wondering what could have prompted it.

"…..to apologize for being short with you back then."

"It is quite alright. I understand that it came out of nowhere." He answered as he dug around in his pouch as the two sat at the fire, "Your fear is unfounded, however. I would never breach upon your privacy without first asking permission."

Liz rose an eyebrow, "So it is possible for mages to enter another's dreams?"

"Quite rare, but yes. It is one of my many skills." Solas confirmed, pulling out a book that he'd been meaning to read since finding it at Haven. He set it upon his lap and sighed, looking up at the young mage. "Serana theorized that perhaps demons were haunting your dreams. That is why she asked for my assistance."

"Well … I appreciate the concern, but I think I can handle it myself."

Solas didn't seem at all worried when he nodded to the woman. Cole tilted his head to the side, feeling his hair shift across the bridge of his nose. There was something there. He knew something about the girl, but… the more he pushed the more it seemed to dance out of his grasp.

"Now it's Serana's turn." Liz crossed her arms, pointedly not looking at the fire in front of them. Everytime she did, the nervousness in her eyes seemed to surface. "She hasn't been sleeping this whole time. The woman's a worry wort."

Solas chuckled, "Yes, it seems she puts the wellbeing of others above her own." His brows knitted and Cole could feel the worry roiling inside of him, before it disappeared. As if it'd never been there, "I fear I may have to force her asleep if it continues."

"Is there… a spell for that?" Liz asked hesitantly, "Because if there is, would you mind teaching it to me? There are quite a few stubborn patients of mine that refuse bedrest when they need it."

The two continued to talk as they sat around the fire. He could tell that Liz found the man interesting, his knowledge of the fade drawing her in. Something inside of her hoping to learn more. Hoping for something… reaching. She was remembering something that brought her pain. Cole focused, trying to pull at the threads. His eyes scrunching from his spot near a tent, out of view.

His eyes widened as he caught snippets of a memory. Images, flashing before his eyes. Tall buildings that flew passed the clouds. Carts that ran without horses. A place without magic. Humans. So many humans. Paintings that moved and spoke. Skyscraper. Vehicle. Television. Home.

Unknown words filtered through, but their meaning rang true. Cole stared at Liz with wide uncomprehending eyes.

He knew Liz wasn't Erin, but he'd thought she was like him. But she wasn't? Or was she? None of it made sense to the spirit. No matter how much he asked, nothing came back. Usually there were whispers, but being so far away from her made it harder.

The images had stopped once she put a lid on her pain, making it impossible to see.

Cole frowned, pulling at the ends of his sleeves. The woman was not from this world. Much like Solas. Both of them felt a sort of disconnect with the people from this world. Though Liz's was less so, because she felt great pain and guilt for not being able to save the lives she's seen extinguished. He knew that much, at least.

Perhaps Cole could try to help find a way back to her world? He wasn't sure how to go about that, though.

"Where are we headed?" Liz had spoken up, "I hadn't the time to ask anyone until now."

"Yes, I saw it in a dream. Tarasyl'an Te'las." The bald elf looked off into the distance, seemingly toward where they were headed.

"What does that mean?" She asked, getting a curious look from the elf.

"Skyhold. Or, more specifically, 'the place where the sky is kept'." He elaborated for her, watching her expression carefully. Observing.

"Miigwetch." She said, causing Solas to appear even more confused. She translated, "It means thank you in … a language I learned a long time ago."

It meant thank you in her language. He heard. Her language from Earth. Where was Earth? Was that her home?

"It is not a language I've heard in my travels." Solas tilted his head and Liz shrugged, once again brushing away the pain.

"I should probably get going, though. Maxwell's bandages probably need to be redressed." She just wanted to get away from him. Not wanting to think about her home. Cole felt sadness for her. "Thank you for talking with me."

"Until next time." He nodded and Liz smiled down at him, brushing the snow off of her furs.

"Giga-waabaminim minowaa, niij." She finished, then translated. "I will see you later, my friend." 'My people didn't believe in goodbyes. Eh, it's a close enough translation.'

"Dareth shiral." He answered, "Farewell, or, safe journey."

"I like that one."

Solas smiled.

It'd taken them a week to get to Skyhold. The harsh conditions having been too much for many, as people had perished on their way there.

Cole was walking along the lower courtyard when he saw Serana crying outside of one of the healer's tents. Her hands were buried in her hands, long silvery locks shielding her face from the world. Solas was seated nearby, his hand on her back and rubbing calming circles. He spoke in a low tone that he couldn't hear, but he knew that he was comforting her.

The young elf had been going through a lot, trying to keep everyone safe under her care. But even with the help of her friend, Hope, it had been too much. Her body was beginning to break down. She needed the sleep. She was only mortal, afterall.

So Cole wandered, exploring the old debilitated interior of Skyhold fortress. It was absolutely massive when they'd first entered the courtyards and it was absolutely massive on the inside. Vines and undergrowth burst into the main hall, completely untamed. It seemed warmer inside of the walls of Skyhold. Almost unnaturally so. The whole place sang with magic, which was practically embedded into the very foundation of the place.

He could tell just by looking at it, when it was in it's glory it was a beautiful place. A refuge. And when he concentrated, he could even see it. Pulling at the memories that shifted around in the place. He saw and got an idea of what kind of potential it had.

Solas was unpacking later that day in the rotunda, which was covered in rubble and old furniture. Vines were sprouting through the railings atop, dangling all the way down into the first floor. The bald mage pushed the vines out of the way as he entered the place, a look of nostalgia in his eyes.

Dorian and a few of the mages set up in the library above. Josephine was ordering new things and getting pointers from Vivienne and Maxwell about what to get ordered and where to put it all. Iron Bull and Sera were cleaning out the building they'd dubbed the Herald's Rest, boasting about the kinds of parties they could throw in the huge tavern.

Soon after establishing it as a tavern, the Chargers had jumped in to help with much enthusiasm.

Cole knew that he could help them all. He has in the past, though they could not remember. Nor did they see him, at times. It was only Sera and Liz that wouldn't allow him to. Sera, because helping her only seemed to make things worse. So he usually made her forget afterward. Kind of like the time when he helped put a bee's nest into a dummy. Why she wanted to do that was beyond him.

But Liz… she never forgot about him. Even after all the time they were separated. He couldn't hide from her even now and it made him a little uneasy. She was kind of like Rhys, once he thought about it. His old friend never forgot about him. Though he never tried to make him forget.

She was harder to listen to than the others. Seemingly cutting him off without really knowing it. Cole could only hear her when they were close, like when he held her as a cat. Or when her pain was strong, sorrow—suffering silently. She didn't want anyone to know. Knowing meant death.

So he found himself in her room, which was where Maxwell was going to also be. The Inquisitor's room, which held many of their things. Liz had insisted on having her own space, but couldn't win that debate.

What had been dubbed as 'The Inquisitor's Room' was now 'The Trevelyan Quarters'. Their rooms branched off of the main room, which held a fireplace and two balconies. What originally had been closets, were now entrances to their to-be bedrooms.

But there was still a dresser that was intact amongst all of the rubble and ruined furniture. One that Liz used to stash her things.

So the rogue found himself shuffling through her dresser in hopes to find something. Maybe a journal or anything that she connected to. Perhaps to imprint her feelings and thoughts into that he could latch onto and learn to help her better.

Because Maker, the woman needed it.

Liz

The young mage was headed upstairs to her shared space with her brother. The place they shared, as of now, was littered with vines and scattered wood from broken furniture. But from the size of it, once it was finished it would look amazing. Of that she was sure. She was hesitant to admit that she loved the view of Skyhold that the balconies offered.

The mage huffed as her small feet padded up the stone steps, the door clicking shut behind her quietly. It was midday, causing the sun to send daggers of sunlight into the room. Dust motes fluttered around in the slivers of sunlight.

Liz heard something shuffling around in the room, causing her to pause near the top of the stairs. Perhaps it was a rat? A shadow moved around in front of her dresser on the other side of the door. The door to which was her 'to-be' room.

So, not a rat.

The young woman crept up to it, staff held like a club. She wriggled her toes against the cold stone, 'And who might this be, I wonder? You dare rummage around in my things.'

The last thought caused a wave of irritation to ripple through her and she could have sworn she saw the shadow freeze.

She popped out, swinging her wooden staff like a club. It hit it's mark with a resounding, 'Crack!'

"Yeowch!" The staff hit home, right on the back of the intruders head as their hat went fluttering to the ground.

Wait. Hat?

"That hurt!"

"Cole?" Liz blinked incredulously, "Why... Why are you..."

He turned around, something clutched in his hand as he bowed his head sheepishly.

"I was trying to find a way to help. You're so hard to hear and-" He went to cross his arms but paused and looked curiously at the object in his hand. Said object being...

Liz sighed and pinched her nose, "Alright. So I still have no idea why you're in my room." She then pointed at a pair of her underwear, which was dangling innocently in between his fingertips. "Or why you're shuffling around through my underwear drawer?"

The lanky rogue was scratching the back of his head where she'd nailed him with her staff. Fingers scratching at his stringy blonde hair. His brows scrunched as he took in her question.

"Your under-" His wide blue eyes flicked from the object in his free hand toward Liz, then back to the object. She could have sworn his face turned red, "Underwear. Y-yes. I-I-"

He skittered back and turned away before she could actually even confirm what kind of expression he was making. Perhaps it was the lack of light?

"Well, now that you're here I suppose I could tell you that my brother was looking for you."

"I know."

"If you knew, why were you digging through my drawers? Looking for a good luck token?" She snarked, getting a squeak out of the man. She simply stood there with her arms crossed, foot tapping on the stone. "Now go."

He didn't need to be told twice, it seemed. The man disappeared in a poof of smoke, a shimmering form skittering off down the steps. Liz squinted, wondering how it was that rogues did that.

Maxwell had informed her that they would depart soon. And that there was something he was going to ask her to do. She'd come up to grab a few things he'd forgotten in his haste to scramble around Skyhold. Now that he was Inquisitor, it seemed there wasn't much time for him to do things on his own.

She sighed and grabbed the man's bag, hauling the thing downstairs and through the overgrown interior of Skyhold. Once she'd weaved her way through the people and rubble, she found herself in the lower courtyard surrounded by Maxwell and the team he'd assembled.

The horses were saddled up, their tails swishing lazily as their owners sat atop them. They were calmly waiting for their Inquisitor to finish talking to the commander.

It was a rather big party, she saw. Which she came to understand would be split into two groups.

Liz walked up to Cullen, blinking confusedly when he handed her a piece of paper to look over. She stared at it, hoping her eyes wouldn't cross as she attempted to read the symbols.

Maxwell and Cullen were talking about what needed to be done in Skyhold and what the troops would be doing. Who would be stationed where, etc. The Inquisitor would have to know of these things, afterall. Liz rolled her eyes as he turned to her.

"There were a few things that I've set for you to overlook while I am gone. Do you think you can handle them in my stead?" He asked, his expression slowly turning blank as he stared down at the paper that Liz held.

He sighed and walked forward, flipping the piece of paper upside down.

Or, rather, right side up.

Liz had been holding it upside down. Her face flushed in embarrassment. She tried to ignore the expression that Varric had, like he was holding back his laughter. But little snorts could be heard from the other side of his hand. Cassandra was looking down at her from atop her horse, brow raised.

Liz coughed, "R-Right, of course. Got it." She lied, "Is this all?"

"Yes. It's all there… written down. I'm sure we won't be gone more than a week at most. So you should be fine." He seemed almost hesitant before turning to address the others.

Liz looked down at the piece of paper, thinking.

'Aw, shit.'

Evidently they were to travel to the nearby towns to establish reputation with them and get some trade deals settled. Since their new 'base of operations' was to be Skyhold, these things were needed. With the help of some of Josephine's connections, it wouldn't prove to be much of an issue.

"Where is the Kid?" Varric interjects.

"Who cares where Creepy is. Lets just go!" Sera's horse turned around and walked toward the gate. Liz remembered seeing him hanging out up the stairs a ways. Her eyebrow twitched, remembering how she'd told him to come down here as per request of her brother. He, obviously, had a hard time listening to orders.

"I'll go get him. He may have gotten distracted on his way here." Liz informs before she turns to walk away.

"Good luck, Sunny. Stay safe."

"Likewise." She waves it off as she goes up the staircase.

So she was stuck, yet again, weaving through people as they moved about the fortress. Much of the place was crowded with boxes and tents. Some of the scouts skittered by, holding long wood beams to make scaffoldings.

Liz peered around, feeling her hair whip around as she looked for the slippery rogue.

'It's funny. When I don't want to see him, he's there. But now that I actually need him, he's gone.' She snorted to herself, leaning around a corner. 'Ah! There you are.'

She spotted him standing next to a tent behind the Herald's Rest.

"Cole, what are you doing...?" Liz murmured as she approached quietly. The rogue was crouched near the tent and slowly turned to look at the mage. Only for his blank expression to falter as he took a step back.

"Watching- I..." He stuttered nervously, causing Liz to raise her eyebrow in suspicion.

She heard, what sounded like rattling and a cot squeaking. When her brain fully caught up to the situation, the mage felt a blush form on her stoic face as it spread all the way to the tips of her ears.

Cole was peeping. Peeping on people-

A muffled moan split through the air, only adding to the awkwardness of the situation.

Liz let out an exasperated sigh that threatened to crack the world apart, her hand flying to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"No... Cole, no." She grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the tent, the young man put up no resistance as they rounded the corner.

"No?"

"No. You're not supposed t-" she sighed again, wondering why on earth she happened to be associated with a closet pervert. "You're not supposed to watch people do that. It's private."

"I've done it before. But… she was hurt, then not."

Liz choked on any words she may have been about to say, the blush on her face darkening.

"N-No! I've watched before, it's not-" He stuttered when Liz stopped suddenly, looking up at the gangly man with an incredulous look on her face. "It hurt. Pain pulling—pushing. Then pleasure. Blooming like a beautiful flower. She gave him something special. She gave him her."

"Cole!" She squeaked, feeling embarrassed for the poor couple.

"S-Sorry!" He practically whined, "I was … concerned. Templars have done bad things to the mages before. But this wasn't that. She loves him."

So a templar and a mage? Liz stared, mouth agape. He'd been watching to make sure it wasn't … Oh, okay. Right. Still. She really didn't want to know what poor unfortunate souls had the displeasure of doing the dirty around the rogue in the past.

On account of the fact that he was usually invisible or unseen to others, Liz doubted he was ever caught in the act until now.

"J-Just go. Go gogo. They're waiting on you." She swatted at his shoulder, wrestling to keep the blush from remaining on her face.

He paused and looked at her for a moment, eyes concentrating. He spoke in an ominous tone, "The Hawke caws at dawn."

She rose a brow, 'What… hawk? Is he trying to warn me about something?'

Liz shook her head and waved him off.

Cole

He knew she didn't know how to read. It was one of her insecurities that hindered her everyday life. She lied about it, too full of pride to ask for help. So he tried to offer insight.

The paper in her pocket whispered to him, telling him what it was trying to say to her.

Maxwell had told her to be there when Varric's friend, Hawke, arrived. Apparently the dwarf had informed him before leaving, not wanting his friend to be left alone not knowing what to do. So, in turn, he'd entrusted his welcome to Liz.

But Liz didn't know this. So Cole took it upon himself to tell her, himself.