Author's Note: Mild spoiler for Lavellan Inquisitor. Nothing major by far, but here's a warning just in case.
Avanna stood in the cold, mindless to the ice that struck her face with each harsh snowflake. She embraced the numbing winds, wrapping herself deeper and deeper into its embrace, trying to close herself to the world. A piece of paper, now soaked with snow, flittered pitifully in her grasp in the wind. The page held nothing but ink that bled into the words that pierced her heart.
I am sorry.
The words rung hollow, reverberated in the empty recesses of her heart that held only the memory of feeling.
I am certain that Lavellan feels the loss…
Why. Why hadn't he helped? Why had he abandoned her? The heat of rage threatened to burn away the comfort of the cold, threatened to set ablaze her chilled heart. She closed her eyes, focused on the chattering of teeth, the cracked lips, the shaking limbs, the frosty tears – anything but the heat and pain of emotion.
A man joined her on the porch. Tall, strong, cloaked.
"Avanna," he beseeched, wind whipping his cloak, almost alive.
The elf remained still. Told herself not to feel. Not to look. Not to break the fragile hold she had.
He moved to take off his cloak and place it around her shaking shoulders. The elf cowered.
"How could they!" she screamed into the wind, the heat burning behind her eyes, the chill gone. "How could that do that!"
She gripped the damp parchment, let her fingers tear tiny half-moon holes into the words. "I had trusted them."
The man stood, cloak in hand, material dancing in the cold air.
"They can't…my clan…"
She cursed as hot tears met the cold air. Cursed the name of the arl who had failed to save her people. Failed to save her home.
"We could have saved them!" she yelled, turning on the man. "Why did you let me believe that mere words would goad a shem into helping my clan? Why didn't we send in your men? Why –?"
Her voice broke, words failing as bile burned her throat, snow continuing to soak deeper and deeper into her clothes, attempting to numb the wounds they could not reach.
"Please," the man offered again, standing stoically in the storm.
The elf met his gaze.
"No," she spat bitterly. "You want me to sit while you repeat platitudes that change nothing."
"Avanna."
"I cannot, Cullen! I have lost my entire clan. My home, Cullen! Do you understand? I've lost my home!"
The elf tried to rein in the heat that laced her words, that made her spit slurs like a child. Tried to find the place where there was no emotion, no pain, no anger, no guilt. But she knew that there wasn't one. That she would have to wake up everyday and smother the flames that threatened to consume her thoughts until they were nothing but seething embers.
She stood there, bent by the wind and pain, cowering from the man's cloak. She wanted to yell, to blame him, to find the arl and show him the pain that she felt.
Cullen dipped his head.
"I lost my home, too," he said quietly, so quietly that the anger of the storm nearly drowned out the words that kept the elf grounded.
"You're lying," she managed, breath labored.
The commander shook his head. "I wish that I was."
Heat and ice battled within her. The heat so desperately wanted to hear his words, to allow herself to be led back to the room, to begin the process of healing that would never end. But the ice screamed in her ears, promising that the embrace of the cold would be preferable to the slow burn of truth.
Her eyes darted, tongue trying to wet purple lips, battling to find an answer.
The commander stepped forward. The elf cried out in pain, in anguish. A cloak somehow found its place on her shoulders, arms around her waist, as she cried, hot tears melting the frost on the man's shirt. Her body heaved, lungs rattling with the pressure to deliver life-giving air to her body as despair ripped from her throat, adding its own mournful note to the storm that raged in the mountains.
The commander led the elf to a chair in front of the fire, closing the doors and finding dry blankets to clothe her with. They sat in silence, both lost to the pull of memories.
"I am sorry, Cullen," the elf whispered, throat raw as the flame in the fire somehow tempered the flame in her heart. "I didn't mean…any of it. I just…the words..."
The commander nodded, "It is alright."
"I didn't save them," the elf continued, words escaping as their frozen prison thawed. "I failed them. My home, my clan, my friends…gone."
"As is mine."
The elf imperceptibly turned her head towards him.
"Yours?"
"Haven," the man replied. "I grew up near there."
"You…did?"
"I did."
The elf mulled over the words, tasting the same bitterness in his words that laced hers.
"I am sorry."
Heat and ice in equal parts had destroyed his home. The burning vanity of Corypheus consumed by the icy grip of an avalanche. She could understand his pain. Could feel it.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
The man nodded.
"Always?"
A pause.
A nod.
"So we are homeless now."
The man shook his head.
"We have here," the man answered.
"I…," the elf paused, mulling over the thought. "That is wise of you, Cullen."
The commander nodded.
"Home." The word felt funny on her tongue. Bitterness lessened by something else. Something stronger: hope.
"It will hurt. It will always hurt. But one day, you will wake up, and you will find that you can bear it," the commander stated.
The elf nodded, energy draining as her body struggled to find a balance between the heat and ice within her.
"Thank you, Cullen," the elf said, meeting the man's gaze. "I appreciate you talking me down. I know I was harsh with you. Unfairly so, and I apologize for that."
Cullen dipped his head, before he stood, moving to walk down the stairwell.
"Wait," the elf beseeched, standing though her muscles protested.
The man stopped and turned.
Avanna shuffled towards him, blanket wrapped protectively around herself, shielding and containing emotions. She stopped before the man before she found herself leaning into him, grasping for something real to hold. He returned the embrace, allowing the pain that he had hid to surface for a moment.
Two souls stood bare to the world, allowing themselves to feel and share in a common pain. Allowing themselves to understand that there was another who shared their burden. Allowing themselves to believe that perhaps one day they could heal.
The elf began to pull away, eyes still closed to reality, knowing that the man would need time on his own. She was surprised when she felt warm lips press against her forehead.
"I am here," he whispered, before he dropped his arms and moved to the stairwell. "Always."
The elf stood in the heat of the flames as the man made his way down the steps. She allowed the words to sink in and reach the wounds that the storm could not. Tears did not spring, joy did not blossom, but hope managed to settle into her heart, lessening the suffering of her acrid guilt.
Avanna returned to the chair, staring into the fire as she still grasped the paper in her hands and thought of home.
Author's Note: Shout-out to Embrium and bleeding-roses for reviewing the last chapter! I really appreciate y'all's support! Also, special thanks to all of y'all who have faved or followed this! I decided to try a different style for this, so if it's not your cup of tea, don't worry; I'll most likely be switching back to my usual style for the next chapter. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope the holiday season has been treating y'all well!