A/N: As always, please review, and merci to those who have. Mind you, this chapter is going to be a little shorter because it was really hard for me to write.

Note: Once again, the poem is called Meditation (Recueillement) and it is also by Charles Baudelaire.

I was asked if some of my own poetry may appear, and while there is certainly a chance of that, it is hard to write poetry that fits the theme of the current situation without it actually being about it. There's also the difficulty with translation as well. So, while it may happen, I can make no promises.

)O(

"The one who repents, who has faith,

Unbroken by the darkness of this world,

She shall know true peace."

- Transfigurations 10:1

Erlina was surprised to see her Lady burst into the room that evening, slam the door behind her, and sit down on the bed with her head in her hands. Something about that just didn't seem right.

"Commander...?"

"They were peasants, Erlina...they were like me. They didn't deserve that. All they asked for was food, and I tried...I tried to convince them...not to use violence, but they wouldn't listen!" She spoke through her fingers. Yes, something definitely wasn't right. "They were in no position to defend themselves, let alone attack anyone. And my soldiers...my soldiers wouldn't listen to reason either."

Jenji lay on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow. And Erlina couldn't help but notice that while her armor was covered in blood, her daggers were completely clean. That's when the Orlesian realized she'd been holding her breath.

Her Lady looked like someone who had finally collapsed under the weight of the world. She must have been so tired...

Amie remained at the Orlesian's feet, head between her paws, clearly sensing the sadness that her mistress felt.

Most people would have sung the Chant at that moment - Maker, though the the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure... - Ah, but somehow she knew that wouldn't be of much comfort. And Erlina was not most people.

And so she spoke to her Commander - her friend - in poetry. It was the elf's first language, Orlesian her second. The silence was enveloped in the verses:

"Sois sage, ô ma Douleur, et tiens-toi plus tranquille.
Tu réclamais le Soir; il descend; le voici:
Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville,
Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.

Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile,
Sous le fouet du Plaisir, ce bourreau sans merci,
Va cueillir des remords dans la fête servile,
Ma Douleur, donne-moi la main; viens par ici,

Loin d'eux. Vois se pencher les défuntes Années,
Sur les balcons du ciel, en robes surannées;
Surgir du fond des eaux le Regret souriant;

Le soleil moribond s'endormir sous une arche,
Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l'Orient,
Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui marche."

When she had finished, the words still hovered in the air, but it wasn't enough for her not to notice that her Lady was weeping. The sobs possessed a distinct sound, only possible when one is trying to hide the fact that they are crying. But the tears told her only one thing, clear as a bell, they said:

'I can't do it anymore.'

It was a statement, a fact, as obvious to Jenji as the color of the sky.

And Erlina hated it.

Because it was her duty to make sure that her Lady was safe and content.

It was why she was more than happy to share her bed.

It was why she took to reciting love poems Jenji wouldn't even understand.

Because she cared about her; perhaps even more than she should.

And there was a good chance Jenji knew she had been sent to look after her, but if she did, then she certainly didn't seem to mind.

Eventually the other elf fell into an uneasy sleep, and Erlina sighed. Perhaps things would be better when she woke up...

But a little later there came a knock at the door. She went to answer it, only to realize that it was Nathaniel. Her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?"

"Oh." He had not expected to see her. "I-I...just...wanted to...see if she was okay."

"Ah, concerned about the well being of your father's murderer?" Erlina folded her arms and glared at him.

"Look, I don't know you, and I haven't done anything to deserve this kind of treatment."

"Except admitting to the desire to kill your Commander." she pointed out.

"She wasn't my Commander yet, and if she has forgiven me for that I see no reason why you can't."

"She does have a remarkable capacity for forgiveness," Erlina allowed. "I, on the other hand, do not."

Nathaniel sighed. "I get it. My father hurt you; he hurt a lot of people. I'm starting to see that he wasn't the man I thought he was. But he's gone now, so please don't hold me accountable for his actions."

The plea was a little too earnest and she found herself unable to be angry with him.

"I suppose I could try."

"Thank you," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "But you've yet to answer my question."

Erlina had forgotten all about that. "She is resting."

"Good." Now he did smile. "It seems she also has the capacity to accept my advice."

"What?"

"Nothing," Nataniel turned to leave. "Good night, my lady."

She closed the door softly behind him, her heart racing. Bonne nuit...

)O(

The next time Sigrun saw her new Commander it was late in the afternoon.

She'd slept away much of the morning hours, and the dwarf still couldn't quite get the taste of darkspawn blood out of her mouth.

The Commander entered the main hall of the keep, and Sigrun was thankful all the bodies have been burned by now. What a silly thing to do with a corpse, she thought. But they weren't dwarves...and it's not like the Stone ever meant anything to her anyway.

The Warden must have had a hard night. She appeared almost sickly and it was clear she had been crying at one point; mostly though the elf just looked like she needed a hug. Was that inappropriate on the surface?

Probably

She found a book about the Blackmarsh, the place they would be visiting soon. It was fascinating; an old and long forgotten place with a compelling mystery. But the distraction only worked for so long, and eventually Sigrun's attention returned to the Commander.

She was like a ghost...even deader than Sigrun herself. Though her death was only symbolic of course...the elf actually looked dead.

Something deep and secret in her heart had died.

She would be okay though, right? They did have ways of healing things like that...right?

You can't heal the dead.

No, the elf was just sad because of the peasant revolt yesterday. That was understandable. She would be fine. She was the Hero of Ferelden - unstoppable, invincible - but she was also a person. And what everyone seemed to forget was that, like every person, she had to break sometimes, too.

Oh, sod it. Sigrun gave the Commander a great big hug and for a moment thought she even saw the ghost of smile.

"Yay group hug!" Anders exclaimed excitedly.

"Go away, mage." Sigrun growled.

"I think what she needs is some strong ale." Oghren suggested.

"Yes, because that's worked so well for you." Anders replied.

She released the elf, who murmured, "Thank you, Sigrun."

The dwarf grinned at the others. She'd successfully brought the Commander back from the edge of the abyss, and was proud.

Now to make Velanna a little less grumpy…

Of course, some things just needed a miracle.

)O(

Jenji would have to do something about the conspiracy against her since it was, like most everything else, a possible threat to her life.

Especially if it had something to do with the peasant uprising, because compared to that, her life was of little importance.

She could always accept the assistance offered by the infamous Dark Wolf, but there were a few problems with that idea. One; he was using her name without permission. She was the real Dark Wolf even if the title meant very little to her. And two; the price for his services was outrageous. At least to her fifty sovereigns was a bit too much.

No, there had to be another way.

But as it so happened, she never got a chance to come up with one, because the conspirators struck first.

Assassins - Antivan Crows - ambushed Jenji while she was alone. That night, in need of some air, she had stepped out onto the battlements. It was quiet here, and she was able to remain mostly concealed in shadow.

Jenji did not think she was a very paranoid person, but she knew someone was watching her closely.

At first her mind did not fully comprehend the arrow that was now sticking out of her shoulder. It took a moment for her to feel the pain, or realize that the blood on her hands was indeed her own.

She went for her daggers, and just as quickly, her assailants sprang from either side.

One archer, one swordsman...

...Esmerelle...

It didn't take long for the two assassins to yield, but the noble refused, leaving Jenji with no choice but to slit her throat.

The Crows were expensive, she knew, and apparently despite the conspirators' collective wealth they were still unable to hire the best. These men were not seasoned killers. Maybe they had a death wish.

"I know Esmerelle wasn't the only one behind this," Jenji said, glancing over at the woman's lifeless body. "I want names…Now."

"And why would we answer any of your questions?"

"Because you might get to live," she replied. "Or die, whichever you prefer."

There was really no reason to interrogate them. She knew how this worked just as well as they did.

One of the Crows sighed. "We don't know who else was involved. She was the only one who spoke to us directly. She insisted on being there when you...err...if you died."

"We were given the contract and told to return once we had completed it, or else not at all. That was it, nothing more, I swear!" the other one added.

"Who gave you this contract?" Jenji crossed her arms, ignoring her own injuries.

They looked at each other. "...Master Arainai, though I hardly see what difference it makes."

Jenji froze. The pain suddenly intensified and the night became a shade darker than before. If the Crow had said anything else, she wouldn't have heard it.

"You tell Zevran," she hissed, "that if he ever authorizes an attempt on my life again...I will find him, and I will finish what I started that day on The Long Road."

The men ran for their lives.

She could have easily taken her blades and stabbed the two Crows, one in each of their hearts. But it didn't matter. If they were stupid enough to actually go back to Antiva, the Guild would do that for her.

Jenji was shaking with a terrifying mix of adrenalin and anger. It was suddenly very cold, too. Her survival instinct was screaming that she needed to attend to her wounds, but at the same time, a small voice somewhere deep inside urged her to just lie down and be done with it. She'd bleed out and that would be the end. No one had come for her anyway...What if they just didn't care?

Survival is not a weakness.

Then, she thought of Adaia, and willed her legs to move. Just a little farther and she'd be home. Someone would find her...someone would know...

"Commander!" Erlina rushed to her side impossibly fast. "What happened?"

"...E-Esmerelle..." the Warden breathed. Falling...Falling...Falling...

"Oh, just look at all this blood...I swear, sometimes I think you have a death wish." the Orlesian went on. "Look at me. I'm going to get help. Understand?"

She nodded, but by the time Erlina returned with Anders and several other concerned and semi-useful individuals, Jenji was unconscious.

She was home.

She was free.

There was no Light to guide her from the endless darkness this time.

And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.