Cracks
Morgana
She runs her finger over the metal. The familiar engraved symbol of Andraste, with the familiar straight nose and full lips (was Andraste truly beautiful, or did those who crafted her image have the religious obligation of making her so?), the cracks across its surface - she is almost certain that it's the same one. She looks to her fellow Warden, considering, wondering about the woman who owned the trinket and realizing with a jolt that he knew his family even less than she did.
Though the faces are blurred, she still has the memories of a scent, of warm arms and a quiet but infectious laugh. He doesn't even have that.
He still seems quite unable to believe his eyes, even when holding his mother's amulet and turning it over in his fingers; when he says in so many words that he isn't worth listening to, she knows from experience that he is only half-joking, and anger flashes across her face, breaks her carefully controlled facade before she can stop it. She swallows it down. "Of course I listened. It was important to you." She senses that he's about to say something, but she mumbles a vague excuse about gathering firewood and walks into the nearby forest.
Oh, she knows that feeling - being unimportant, a liability, a danger. She is a Warden now, however, and she refuses to face it again. That past is far behind her.
Then she remembers Jowan in his cell; it's still following her - just at a greater distance.
She has lost nearly all she knew - she wonders when the cracks will begin to show.