"Love and Confusion"
Love was horrible. It made people vulnerable. It opened up your chest and heart. It meant that someone could get inside of you and mess you up. Liz never wanted anything to do with that.
That, to her, was almost as bad as possession. Though at least she knew if she became an abomination, she would promptly get cut down. Die. Love …. love would kill her on the inside. It would eat away at her and tear her down slowly. Most people live, sure. But it almost felt like … less was there.
At least, that was her interpretation of it. It was probably different for others, but –
It was what she believed was wrong with her. She diagnosed herself, much like one would a cancer patient. Terminal. She knew that this meant her death. Funny how she realized the extent of her feelings for the man right after he turned into a demon. A little late?
She wanted to deny it, she really did. She knew, you could close your eyes to things you didn't want to see. But she couldn't close her heart to things she didn't want to feel. It just was.
Love was bigger than her. She could invite love, but she could never dictate how or when and where love expressed itself. She could choose to surrender to love, or not. But in the end, love struck like lightning. Unpredictable. Irrefutable.
One could even find themselves loving people they didn't like at all. Look where she found herself. Cole and Liz once tried to kill one another. Now? Tell her she'd eventually feel such things for a man that tried to stab her and she would laugh in their face. Tell them they were ridiculous. Stupid. But...
Love didn't come with conditions, stipulations or codes. Like the sun, love radiated independently of our fears and desires. Love was a force of nature. And Liz knew. She absolutely knew never to fight against the forces of nature. It was in her blood, in her soul. Everything she'd learned. Respect nature.
So Liz trudged onward, even knowing the inevitability of her death. Even knowing that the object of her affections was a demon and would likely tear her apart given the chance. She hated herself for it. Yet she would not roll over and give up. The young woman walked forth, head held high.
She would go down fighting.
Cole
It felt like something within the woman changed in those few weeks. Where she'd been skittish and flighty around him, she was now hardened. Resolute. Cole noticed how the little mage was no longer afraid to confront him and speak out to him. She even had the gall to try and scold him for unscrewing the caps of the salt shakers on the frilly Orlesian nobles.
But, he was just having fun.
Evidently that wasn't an appropriate way to act, since it would reflect badly on the Inquisition. So, instead, the young woman introduced him to a different way of expressing his new found purpose. Liz told him to wreak havoc on their enemies. Any of the nobles that visited with ill intentions? Cole was told they were free game. He had an especially fun time exposing one snooty woman who thought she could steal the Seeker's place in Maxwell's heart.
Two could play dirty. Cole found that 'The Game', as it was called, was actually quite fun to tinker with. Especially since he could linger around unseen and mold things to his liking.
And yet, as the days went on, everything still seemed dull and dreary – dragging him down. Especially when the young man tried to confront Varric, after so much time debating. But even he acted differently around him, now. He could feel the unease. The mistrust in his eyes. It was all as clear as day.
He saw how Solas had reacted.
Cole felt isolated.
So, even after messing with people and picking at old wounds from within—he still felt incomplete. Like, something was wrong. He could hear it from within himself, a discordant melody. Then, it rang like a bell. Deep down below. Calling to him, stronger than usual.
Cole tilted his head from his perch on the ramparts, the sun long since died from the sky. He was hunched forward, holding himself with his arms crossed across his stomach. His blue eyes scanned the upper courtyard, seeing how dead it was.
So he disappeared, feet taking him where he needed to be. The ground felt like it was getting softer. He was sinking. He shouldn't be afraid, but he was. He was so so afraid.
Then, he was there. In the bowels of the fortress, hearing the distant roar of the water falling on the other side of the door. He was in the Skyhold dungeons. The torches flickered and the shadows swayed in response as he stood near the cell. Someone lay curled, crying. Calling to him—wanting out. Wanting to die.
He would give it to them. He had to.
"P-Please, they're going to make me tranquil. I-I-" He sat in the corner of the cell, mana suppressing cuffs clipped on his wrists. His robe was obviously of Tevinter origin.
It was magister Erasthenes. The Tevinter magister that kept slaves. Kept Calpernia. The Inquisitor had brought him to Skyhold for judging and asked Liz for advice. Her response. Information. If he was tranquil, he would no longer be a threat and they would get the information they needed.
A decision that she, deep down, didn't agree with. But felt it necessary.
But Cole would take the pain away from him. He needed it. The rogue made no noise as he walked, yet the cell creaked and groaned as the barred door opened. He stepped into the small room, dagger held lazily in his hand. He stared down at the magister, glowing blue eye peeking out from underneath a mop of hair.
"W-What are you?" The older man's voice wobbled as he scrambled back, only to be lifted up by Cole's free hand with such ease. They stood there, man in robes shaking like a newborn foal. The rogue tilted his dagger against his chest, watching the man intently.
"You called to me, despair ringing like a distant bell. It scares you, knowing you won't have the power. The will. You won't be." Cole explained, "But I can make it better."
The magister's wrinkled face went pale and the rogue began to slowly push the razor edge into his chest. Flesh was about go give way when-
The air between them twisted and wobbled, knocking them in separate directions. A strong bubble of force magic sent the rogue careening back and out of the cell. He hit the wall with a dull, 'THUD!'
Erasthenes was knocked unconscious from the blow, his body limp in the cell.
Cole's gaze flew up as he winced from his spot on the ground. He spotted Liz, standing at the entrance of the dungeons. She wouldn't let him. Not again. She stalked forward and shut the cell. It clicked shut and she stared down at her friend, back pressed against the stone wall. The mage crossed her arms in clear disapproval at his actions.
"No. I will not allow you to throw away all of the progress you've made since-" And like that, he was in front of her. Body moving like lightning.
'Thud!'
Cole slammed her back against the stone and she let out a pained grunt. His hand clutched at the front of her shirt, holding her in place. Her brown eyes flew up and met his own. Right as she saw him, his dagger missed her face. Barely.
'Ting!' Metal on stone. It scraped and his arm began to shake, lethargy pulling at his body.
Cole couldn't find it in him to... To do it. The instant need to apologize for cutting her cheek, even if only a little, arose. But he squashed it before it could surface.
She said nothing, didn't need to. Cole felt the stones becoming soft. The darkness curling, clawing, coming for him. Trying to pull him under. He could embrace it. It was part of him. But he found himself scared.
And the only way he knew-
His breathing was ragged as his hand clenched the dagger tightly. He had to do it. Somehow. Someone. It could be her. Why why whywhy. Why did she make him feel so conflicted? Why did she make him question his purpose? Why did she appear at the most inopportune times? Why?! So many questions bombarded the rogue as he stood there, gritting his teeth in frustration.
"Cole, look at me." Her voice pulled on him, but his thoughts were everywhere. Scattered in the wind. Panic began to set in.
"I need you to look at me." Hands on his cheeks, blue collided with brown. Everything inside of him went silent when her fingers caressed his face, "Do you see me?"
"I-I..."
"Yes..." Liz. He focused in on her eyes. Felt them. Knew them. "...here."
"Liz." He choked out, their noses nearly touching. He leaned forward even more. He wanted... wanted...
"Cole..." She whispered, "You don't have to do this."
Their breaths intermingled and his grip on his dagger went slack. It clattered to the ground. He wanted to kiss her so badly, it almost burned. The urge was so strong that his fingertips itched. Itched to pull her closer. To get to know her. To-
"Hey!" His eyes snapped open and he willed himself out of sight, "What in Andraste's name are you doing down here—Oh, sorry."
He realized that it was Liz and only Liz. The guard, obviously, couldn't see the young man that stood next to the ruffled young woman. Her face was reddened with embarrassment.
"Just needed some time alone. Sorry, ser." She bowed her head and skittered up the stairs. Cole followed, seeing her waiting for him on the landing. He paused and stood in front of her, moment gone. But the little mage stared up at him with the same determined glint in her eyes, "I won't let you fall. Not again."
The otherworlder seemed to keep a closer eye on the young man after that. Checking in on him almost four to five times a day. Somehow they seemed to know where one another were and it felt odd. Cole could find people, with much effort. But it almost seemed like he knew where she was instinctively.
Cole didn't have much free reign over Skyhold fortress, anyway. Since everyone was gearing up to leave and begin the trek to Adamant.
He knew that he was in danger of being bound against his will, due to the Wardens. Yet he followed as they descended from the Frostbacks and into The Dales. The scenery slowly shifted from cold, white and snowy to green and lush. The trees swayed as the massive Inquisition squadron made its way down the Imperial Highway. This, evidently, wasn't everyone either.
The pace was slow going—almost agonizingly so. The demon kept himself hidden from the companions, having realized how unwelcome he was since Solas tried to attack him.
That was the thing with people, they take and take and hurt. What they did to the Real Cole was testament to that. Cole realized just how messed up humanity was, since his change. It was ugly. A stain on this plane of existence. They all had that darkness within them and they polluted one another with it, uncaring of the consequences.
The young man grew to hate and despise people. The color slowly draining from the world. Was everyone like that? Was everyone doomed to snuff out another's light, simply because they glowed brighter? Because they were longing, lonely—lamenting over innocence lost?
He saw Solas do it. His darkness was ancient, barely seeping through the hairline cracks in his facade. But it still polluted little Serana, his love. His Vhenan. Blackwall, who tried to keep his hidden, harrowing—hallow on the inside. A name but the wrong face. Wrong wrong. Like Liz, a lie.
Liz.
His blue eyes trailed from the 'Warden' to the young mage, who had just transformed from her crow form beside Maxwell. She spoke in rushed sentences. She, too, had darkness. But …
Maybe he was just soft.
They came to a bend in the road, the wildlife suspiciously quiet. Liz spoke in a low tone to the group and Cole had to get closer to even hear. "They're up there, waiting."
Bandits.
A common theme, it seemed. People would rob one another when they couldn't make a decent living of their own. Taking from others, instead. Cole felt his eyes narrow when they jumped out of the treeline, trying to ambush the group.
But it wouldn't work. Everyone already knew.
The knowledge of their presence left the Inquisition at an advantage. The large group, not nearly an army, took on the lowlifes with ease. Cole remained close to his Light, making sure she wasn't exposed from the back or hurt.
Step. Dash. Step step. His daggers slid across soft flesh and he flicked his wrist, sending the blood flying. The rogue purposely cut them in such a way that they died slower. Painfully. He could hear what they did, rolling off of them like a sickness. Some of them had killed families. Hurt women. Children. Disgusting.
Even so, the feeling he got when they slowly choked on their own blood on the ground. It was so utterly satisfying that he couldn't keep his eyes off of his kill one moment. Then the next, a shriek. Liz's voice. He whipped around, seeing his Light getting knocked back by a rather large warrior with a tower shield.
The rogue felt sheer, white hot rage. His vision flickered red for the barest of moments, then he was atop the warrior. Tearing him down. Stab. Stab. Rip. Repeatedly.
"….ole." A voice was ringing behind him as he continued to stab the man. Mauling his already dead corpse. "Cole."
Cole paused, standing up in an almost mechanical motion. His head turned, Liz stood there with her hand on his arm. Stopping him.
"He's dead." She stated, voice wobbling. The young man whipped around and grabbed her chin, almost possessively. A confused expression flitted across her face as he turned her head side to side, inspecting for damage. Her wounds were mostly superficial, most of which she could heal herself.
No one was allowed to hurt his Little Light. No one. Not when he was around.
Her warm fingertips grazed the side of his face, wiping away blood that had spattered across his pale cheek. His gaze locked with hers, blue on brown. And again, it was like something was pulling him in. Grounding him as her hand lingered on his cheek.
She kept staring at him, like she was trying to say something. But nothing came out.
But he heard.
'Please come back to me.'
He was about to tear himself away from the young woman when Maxwell appeared beside the two, "Are you guys okay?" He stared at Cole, eye looking him up and down. Noting all of the blood and his distinct lack of hat. "Cole? I haven't seen you since Redcliffe. Are you doing okay? How do you feel?"
"He's okay." Liz answered for him, "He's just been a little out of sorts."
"…. if you say so." Maxwell sounded unsure, holding his shield as he shifted uncomfortably.
"Cole. We have been looking for you for weeks, now." Solas was the next person to appear beside the Inquisitor. He took in Cole's appearance, noting how the entire front of his leather coat was covered in red. "Is-is all of that blood?"
The elf's eyes flicked down to the man he'd mauled, face nothing but a mound of flesh and bone. Cole spoke, this time. "Yes. He tried to hurt my Light."
"Your..." Solas' voice tapered off as he turned to look at Liz, who appeared to have gone pale. She stared up at Cole, hissing at him to stay quiet. "Is there something we should know, Erin?"
The young mage turned to look at her elder and shook her head furiously, "Absolutely not. No. What do you mean?"
"Ever since he killed the templar in Redcliffe, he hasn't been right. Cole, what do you make of this? Have you forgotten your purpose?"
"The man in the robes once said, 'Fear not the darkness but welcome its embrace.'" He pulled the saying from Liz, who looked at him. Recognition flashed in her eyes for a moment, "I found my purpose, have you?"
"He…. He isn't the same." The Seeker's voice cut through the small group and he turned to her, unaware of how his eyes were glowing from underneath his mop of hair.
"Was it that obvious?" Cole tilted his head, unable to keep the mocking tone from surfacing.
"Seeker."
She didn't heed Solas' warning as she unsheathed her sword and pointed it menacingly at the young man. The rogue simply smirked at the frustrated woman, finding it amusing how riled up she got. It was too easy.
"I thought we had a budding friendship, Cass." Cole continued, remembering how she began to treat Compassion. But now that he wasn't Compassion, suddenly things have changed?
"I am no friend to a demon!" She hissed, gripping her sword tighter. Cole felt his eyes narrow at the comment. Her too, then. She was no different than Rhys, from the sounds of it. Liz, thus far, was the only one that remained at his side since his change. Even Solas had turned on him. Not that he remembered. What of the others? What was stopping them?
They were all the same.
"Are you going to kill me? In front of Liz?" He decided to make a jab, feeling spiteful. "I thought you, of all people, would know the pain of seeing a loved ones head-"
Liz snatched his arm and gave him a look. Cole simply stared back, oblivious to the way Cassandra's expression crumpled. The duo completely missed it, because when they looked back ... It was gone. Replaced by anger. Complete and unbridled fury.
"You dare!" Her voice cracked, obviously hiding the pain underneath. He'd struck a soft spot.
"Cass!" Maxwell tried to call, but his statement went unheard as the Seeker stomped forward.
Liz stepped in front of Cole, allowing electricity to wrap up her arms and surround the two protectively. It crackled much like the atmosphere between the three, hissing and spitting as it illuminated the area in a blue glow.
"You will not harm him." Her voice sounded ominous. He could feel the disapproval at his actions rolling off of her, yet she still protected him. She would never let anyone hurt him, if she had any say in it.
"Get out of the way! The boy is not the same, he is-"
"My friend and I will not allow harm to befall him. So long as I am-"
Cassandra made a disgusted noise and lowered her weapon, but didn't sheathe it. "I thought you, of all people, would understand the danger he poses."
"He hasn't hurt anyone." She lied.
"Wouldn't you know?" Came Cole's smug sounding remark from behind her.
The little mage whipped around and snapped at him, "And you're not helping. You don't just go around saying those kinds of things!"
The rogue gritted his teeth and looked away from her angry expression, feeling like a scolded puppy. Something began twisting in his chest. Didn't she see it, too? How differently they treated him? He had been remaining unseen for that very reason. Because deep down he knew that they wouldn't want anything to do with him once they knew.
With a roll of his eyes, he turned and stalked away. He willed himself out of sight, leaving a very angry Seeker and a disappointed Inquisitor.
"Erin, what's going on with him? If there is something you aren't telling me, you need to tell me now. Is he a threat to anyone?" The Inquisitor asked as the rogue settled himself into the tree line fifteen feet away. He watched the young woman for a moment as she shifted uncomfortably.
"I honestly… don't know. I'm … check … " Liz's voice sounded defeated, for the most part as it faded away and he made his way through the forest.
Even before, when Compassion had first joined the Inquisition, he had been treated with such disdain. The only thing he wanted was to help. He didn't really expect anything different, if he were to be honest. Cole had low expectations for humanity, especially since he remembered everything.
Even Real Cole had it bad and he remembered it all, as if it'd been his own memories. As if it'd happened yesterday. A mother, murdered by her love. Even his little sister was gone. Gone gone. Scared and suffering and suffocating. Oh, Maker it hurt.
Cole stumbled and put his hand against a tree, shaken. Remembering how cold her little body had been against his. He had been scared. He was just scared. So so scared. He didn't mean to—he cried out, feeling pain ripping at the center of his chest.
The young man barely registered the footsteps that followed him, crunching in the grass. "Cole? Are you okay?"
Her voice was quiet, almost as if his ears were full of cotton. The sound that came out of the young man's mouth was so full of anguish, he almost couldn't keep himself upright. His stomach was in knots—everything was closing in.
He'd only been scared. He wanted to protect her, too. Father furious, frantic and full of hate. 'My son is a mage. Monster. Monster.'
"She died she died." His voice shook, quick and out of breath. Cole clutched his chest, curling in on himself. It was like he was back there, still in the cupboard with her. Holding onto her. The feeling he got when he realized. He realized-
"Who died? Cole-"
"She died. I—Cole—I? I did it? I killed Bunny, she—" She died in his arms, "—Shaking hands covering a small mouth. 'Shhh shhh be quiet, he will hear us.' I didn't-" His voice got lower, deeper, akin to a growl. "-I didn't m-mean to-"
"Hey, look …. can't …." Liz's voice was a faraway sound, unable to hear her. Unable to see. Everything was blurry. Why was everything blurry? Why did it feel like he couldn't breathe? He couldn't see. He couldn't think. He couldn't—he pulled his hands away from his chest and stared at them in horror. Cole didn't see his hands, no. They were elongated into claws. Blackness, like ink, spider-webbing up into the sleeve of his leather coat.
It felt like he was being consumed.
He didn't know how right he was. He couldn't see how the white in his eyes blackened, how his blue eyes glowed or how his teeth began to sharpen. Skin pale, dead. Dying. He was truly becoming-
"COLE!" A scream as his gaze suddenly darkened. A snarl, not his own. It was like he was thrown in the back seat of his body and he was watching himself grab the young mage's body. His hands—claws—dug into her upper arms, drawing blood. Then, a plea, "Please, don't do this. Don't do this to me. I don't want to have to do this."
Liz was, even then, trying to pull him out of it. Hoping. Praying. Believing. Trying to stop everything from spiraling. Down down. He was falling. He was hurting her. Maker, he was hurting her. Cole fought against it, trying to pull himself back. If even just a little. All he could do was move his mouth, speak. An almost choked sound.
"K-Kill me. Liz." He sputtered, voice raw with emotion. 'Kill me before I kill you.'
He plead and, for the first time, prayed to the Maker. Andraste. Anyone. Please stop! Make it stop! He didn't want to hurt his only friend!
The others left. The others didn't like what they saw. Didn't understand. Didn't see.
Not like her.
Then, her skin, it was so warm. Hands on his cheeks, mouth moving as if to talk to him but he could hear nothing. The warmth curled over him. No, it wasn't—she was reaching out to him. Somehow. Something from within, calling and crying – clawing. Desperate. A light at the end of the tunnel. No, like a thread. Cole reached out to it and took it.
It was like everything sharpened and thoughts, not his own, invaded his mind. Encouragement, faith, hope. Everything relayed but he was unable to put it into words. But most of all, it was fear. The fear of losing him, which doubled and resonated within his own fear of losing her. Killing her.
And then he was there. Like an anchor holding him during a storm. The water lapping at his sides, yet he remained still. Stagnant. Cole marveled at it, watching as everything around him slowly muted in response. Calm.
It was so quiet. Everything was quiet. The wildlife was silent, almost eerily so. He could hear the gentle rustle of the trees and feel the wind blowing through his hair. It was like looking through a window on a sunny day after a storm passed through. He looked down at his claws—no—hands. He had hands! His hands!
"Just listen. Listen to my voice. Focus on your breathing and close your eyes, Cole. Breathe." She spoke slowly. Cole could feel Liz's fingers as they wiped the wetness away from his face. Why were his cheeks wet? He peered up at her and saw that she, too, had the same problem. Tears. Those were tears. He was crying? "Everything is going to be alright. Just focus. Try and focus."
He shuddered, feeling his chest quake. Shaking, the young rogue pulled her closer and put his forehead against hers. He let out a deep exhale as he shut his eyes, relishing in the quiet. It had been so loud. So bright.
The two of them stood there for what felt like minutes, just breathing. The young man felt a small smile slipping onto his face, "Thank you, I..."
His eyes snapped open when he felt a soft press on his bottom lip. Liz pulled away and stared up at him with uncharacteristically innocent eyes, face flushed red. It'd felt like a zap that caused his heart to race. She'd just … she'd just kissed him!
"Sorry." She stuttered, tanned face reddening even more. "I should have asked first, I just… I don't know I. Sorry."
The rogue leaned down, intent on reciprocating. In her surprise, she flinched and their teeth clacked together.
"Ow!" Liz squeaked as Cole let out a grunt. The duo stood there, nose to nose, for an almost awkward amount of time before the young mage let out a quiet chuckle. Cole laughed too, feeling a light airy feeling in his chest at the situation.
"It is there. Hesitant and happy—I-" The rogue paused, putting his hand on his chest, "I wish everyday was like this."
"It can be." She stared up at him, unwavering, "If you let me help, too."
"I...I want..." He stuttered. What did he want? He wanted her to be happy. He wanted friends. He wanted to be like her. But… "But I've already-"
"No, I told you that I would always be there for you. We can do this. Together."
Being like this felt so good. So right. The rogue wished nothing more than to be like her. Human, happy. But did he really deserve it? What they had? What did they have? What was it? It frightened him. Cole backed away, eyes wild. It shouldn't happen. No. No no no. Can't. It can't.
He pictured her before him. Trusting, tempered, twined in his embrace. But she was bleeding, dagger in her heart. Just like them, he would want to take her pain away. But no, this wasn't that. Was it? He wanted her, all of her. He wanted her to see him and only him. For her to be his.
Cole wanted to possess all that was her. He-
"No!" His voice cracked, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. Now Liz appeared concerned as she stepped forward, hand held high as if to calm a skittish animal.
"Cole, what's- what is wrong? You're—" So trusting, but she shouldn't. Shouldn't. Not him. Not like this. He trusted her, but he did not trust himself. He was too afraid. What if it happened again? What if he truly turned into Despair. Completely and fully? What if he ended up killing her? Possessing her?
What scared him the most was that she would allow it to happen.
His hand flew forward, palm merely inches from her face. He was able to see her brown eyes narrow and flick up to his, panicked. "Forget."
Everything.
The pain erupted, exploded in her chest. Within seconds, a world shifted – shattered. Then nothing. Blank. The small mage blinked a few times, as if confused. She then turned and walked away as if she didn't see him. And she didn't. Couldn't.
And oh, like a mirror, Cole felt it too. But it didn't go away. It never would.
He would remember.
Cole felt unbelievably lost then, as he watched his friend walk away at a languid pace. He stood there for minutes, maybe hours, looking at the place in the thicket that she had left in. Disappearing into the foliage. She didn't even look back.
It was beginning to get dark by the time the young rogue even attempted to make his way back. His feet were hurting, for whatever reason. His joints ached, his head ached. Why did everything hurt so much?
He wondered this to himself as he ambled back into the camp. Wondering many things, as a matter of fact. Wondering also, why everything was still so eerily quiet. He could begin to hear the birds tweeting in the trees and the trickling of water as he passed a small stream. But it all seemed… different. It was quiet, yet not. Everything was odd, as if something had shifted.
It left him feeling off balance, in a way.
So he stepped into camp, unaware that everyone could see him. Unaware that a certain hobo mage made his way out of the thicket behind him.
Liz
Liz awoke the next day, eyes burning and head pounding as she sat up in her tent. Jade was snoring loudly beside her, legs somehow draped over Liz's lower half. How the dwarf had inched her way onto her side of the tent was beyond her.
The young woman huffed and pushed her legs off of her own, "Jade, time to get up."
"Hurrghbble?" She grumbled and snorted in response, turning over and burying her face into her bedroll. Liz rolled her eyes and climbed over her stocky figure and tumbled out of the front of the tent. The sun was rising in the distance and she heard the distinct sound of a spoon hitting a pot.
"Mornin', Sunny. Sleep well?" Varric asked as she stood up and brushed off her pants.
"Yes. I didn't know dwarves liked human pillows." She snarked, slowly making her way around the camp and kicking people awake. Varric simply snorted at her comment. Liz paused, seeing a scout sleeping on a tree next to the camp. He was still in his leather armor as he lay at an awkward angle. She winced. He was definitely going to have a crick in his neck. "Hey, you."
She addressed him and poked the blonde man. He snorted and attempted to sit up, surprised. The man made something akin to a squeak as he fell off the branch and onto the ground five feet below.
'Thud!'
"Ow!" He cried, leaning on his side and holding his butt. "That hurt."
"Yes, well… kind of happens when you fall asleep on a tree branch." Liz put her hands on her hips, eying him warily. Why did he seem familiar? Why did she feel like she should know his name? "You sleep in the oddest of places, scout."
"I was sleeping?"
"Yes. If you were designated to be on watch, you didn't do a very good job at it." She turned around stiffly and faced the rest of the group as they began packing up their supplies sluggishly. "Max, are you awake?"
The only thing the young mage got was a long drawn out groan from his tent. Liz's eye twitched and she walked over to the thing and grabbed his foot and began dragging him out. It was really difficult, since she wasn't at all physically strong. But it wasn't impossible.
The eldest Trevelyan grabbed a tent pole and groaned again, dragging his tent with him. It caved in and toppled over his prone body.
"Wake. Up." Liz huffed, continuing to drag him.
"I'm up, I'm up." He called from the ruined mass of leathers. "Jeez, you're worse than mother."
"The girl's right, Boss. We're wasting daylight at this point. Chargers!" The Iron Bull called, getting varying responses between tired groans to enthusiastic cheers.
"Understood, Ser!" Kyle called from his tent, already stumbling out in just his breeches and a helmet.
When Liz looked back toward the awkward young man that had fallen asleep on the tree branch, he was staring passed her with a despondent look on his features. Mind elsewhere.
There was something. It felt far away, barely touching. Drifting by, kind of what the Fade felt like when she pulled at it. When she drew from it for magic, but not. It buzzed through the air, though she knew not where it originated from. Sorrow, not her own.
Why?
"Ya feelin' alright there, Kid?" Varric walked up to the young man slowly, cautiously. "I thought you didn't need to sleep."
Liz scrunched her eyebrows, confusion gripping her. Though she stayed silent. Watching. Waiting.
"N-No. I-I... Why does it hurt, Varric?" He asked, looking down at the dwarf. The rogue picked at the frayed ends of his fingerless gloves.
"Why does what hurt?"
"I-It hurts. Everything hurts." He tried to grasp for the right words, blue eyes wide with worry.
With that, Liz shrugged and walked away to tend to other things. First it was packing things onto Rin. Then it was helping the others gather their gear and put it away. The young woman paused and squinted at her upper arms, feeling them ache from the exertion.
They were covered in bandages and she recalled treating herself the night before. She could have sworn she was attacked by a wild cat but … couldn't actually remember the cat attacking her.
A white faceless shadow was standing on the edge of the bridge. Raining, it was raining. Why was it raining? It was dark, the only illumination coming from the flickering streetlamp above him. Him? It? The shadow turned and looked at Liz.
It had no eyes, but she could feel it looking at her. Feel it scrutinizing her. Seeing her. Hearing her.
She tilted her head slightly, feeling her hair plastered to the side of her face. The young woman should feel cold, she knew. Like being pulled by an invisible rope, she stepped forth. It brought her here. Why here?
Why did this seem so familiar? So … so. She could not grasp it. Like water seeping through her fingers, disappearing. Falling. Falling. Gone.
'Where am I, again?'
"Little light." The voice was drowned out by the falling of the rain. Pitter patter. The low drone an almost deafening sound.
"Have you ever felt deja vu?" Liz asked offhandedly, mind hazy. The feeling of having done something before, seen something before - "I've been here before—memories. Growing, grasping … gone. Gonegone. Something's missing. Where- where am I? Why can't I-"
Her ears started ringing, head throbbing. It hurt it hurt. Why did it-
"Little light, little light. Dim, dull, dying. Fading away." Was it's only answer, lifting a hand and pointing at her chest. She looked down and saw. She saw. "Don't die out just yet."
She saw her light, burning in her chest. Flickering like a dying candle.
"Why does it-" The shadow began fading. It's form translucent. Instinctively, the woman reached out to grab it. "Don't leave! Not again, no! Don't leave me!"
Liz knew not the meaning behind her own words. They just slipped out. Her hand passed through and like smoke, the shadow scattered.
He glanced back toward her, right before he dissipated. He was gone. She choked back a cry, chest suddenly heavy. Hurt.
Before he left, she felt him smile.
x0x0
Trust me when I say this drama and heartache actually has a purpose. Like. Character development. Especially for our dearest Cole. I want to develop him and show him growing into his humanity. It will be fun!