Thirty-seven days - six spent in bedded bliss, barriers between night and day diminished. Every morning, facing her face, I was... happy. Fear forgotten, brilliant and bright, beginning, blooming. Lavellan looked happy, laughed, and I loved her, began to wonder and wish - what would happen next? She sat, my head in her lap, against the stone rise of Skyhold, and we talked. Hands in my hair, sleepy soundly, sitting silently, or not. It was good.

But I felt her feelings, fading fast. Wine in a broken bottle, bubbling, burbling, but where was the leak? I can find it, let me find it, let this last, but it didn't - dropped, dripping down until there was nothing left. She said she needed time. Time for what?

Alone - lost, lonely, people passed but I heard nothing. Too much noise, too many knots. I hid, tried to forget, but I couldn't. It hurt too much. It hurt, it -

I felt her happy. She was relieved, released, ready. Why wasn't she happy with me? Wrong piece, but it fit, felt right. I loved her, but it didn't matter. Why?

Spirits shape the Fade with feelings - love and loss. We change and it changes, too. I thought that feeling would be enough, but it wasn't. I was wrong. I could love her, but couldn't change her. I could heal her hurt, but it wasn't her hurt that hindered her - it was something else.

She didn't love me because she... didn't. It wasn't something that I did.

It wasn't my fault.

Dress torn, dark, tangled hair, Lavellan sits, smiles, snow stinging skin, smelling of honey in her tea, cinnamon in her cider, smoke and sandalwood burnt in the barn - Blackwall. She said she needed time, but what she found was… him.

We were fragile, fast to fade, ephemeral - a flash of fire, then forgotten. She frets, feels guilt, but for her, it's better. Blackwall is strong, simple, and not a spirit - she's happy, and that soothes the shattered parts, pieced together but imperfect, a picture of a person. Varric said it would be okay, and it is, but…

A secret, heavy, hidden in the damaged dark - will anyone want me? A knot too tight to tug loose - my own. I want to help, but I can't. Too close, confined and caged by burning blackness, broken shapes spinning, shuddering - singing. A soft sound in the silence, nearly sundered, shadows in a distant dream. Remembering makes it better, brighter - do you want to go back? Being human hurts, hollows - a spirit shape is easy, easing fear by fading and forgetting. Solas said that was me, and he was right. Pain is hard. But…

Loving, lifting, learning - I understand more, see the strings that tie together. I am afraid, fragile, fearful, but I have friends - family. Lavellan is lost, but the love is left, living, letting me grow. I am hurting, but happy.

I'm… human, and I like being human.

What do you think I'll learn next?

Note: thanks for reading, everyone; I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! I love writing Cole, so I can't imagine this is the last thing I'll write with him in it. If any of you need helping writing for him too, or have any particular requests, feel free to let me know. In any case, happy reading!