Second deviation from POV. Cheers!

Sunshine Through the Rain

She ran as fast as her legs could carry. Lace rarely begrudged stature, but for catching up with a certain taller man, she did. Calling out for the second time, Lace increased her pace, "Blackwall!"

He stopped, and Lace unceremoniously ran into him. This was where her stature came in handy. Instead of knocking him over, Blackwall turned on his heel and grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling onto her ass. Lace blushed but nodded her thanks. Blackwall withdrew his hands but didn't resume his rapid pace toward Val Royeaux. Lace knew enough about the situation to gather that only she, and maybe Leliana by this point, knew of his departure from Skyhold, and his intended destination.

"Blackwall, I-"

"No," he somberly shook his head, "Warden Blackwall is dead and has been for years."

"I find it hard to believe that you'd take a Grey Warden's life." Lace searched around the abandoned path until she spied what she was looking for. She pointed to the fallen tree lying next to a boulder. She'd grown used to looking up when having a conversation, but for this one, with this man, she wanted equal level.

Blackwall followed her without protest. He didn't speak again until they settled on the log beside one another. Lace wanted to sit closer, but she got the feeling if she did, he'd spook, and she'd end up chasing him again. Looking around, Lace noticed thunderclouds brewing in the mountains, soon to move through the valley. Blackwall would get soaked on his journey, she as well moving back to her post—which was where she'd been headed when she both saw him pass through one of their posts and heard from one of her "birds" that he'd read a report from Val Royeaux before taking off.

"I didn't take Blackwall's life." Blackwall, except apparently not Blackwall, broke the silence. "I traded his death." Lace didn't speak. She knew him well enough to recognize his speech patterns and knew he'd explain everything with minimal prompting. This was a man who'd been buried under the past for so long that at the first sign of unburdening himself of it, he took it. Lace had met such people before—they were typically the ones who preferred scouting posts. "We met in a tavern when I was on the run. I was nothing but a waste of life. But he wanted me for the Wardens."

Lace added a prompt as Blackwall sighed, "What happened after that?"

"There was an ambush. I was to go alone to the Deep Roads and fill a vial with the blood of a Darkspawn. When I returned, I found the Warden surrounded by more Darkspawn. He took a blow for me." Blackwall tore off some bark off the log and tossed it onto the ground at his feet. "He shouldn't have died. It should have been me."

"I'm not saying I disagree," Lace tried to lighten the mood with her words and a light punch to his shoulder, "but clearly he thought you were worth saving." She unfurled her fist and pressed her palm against his arm. "And with that, I do agree."

Blackwall leaned back and shook his head, throwing another piece of bark, "No one should have died for me."

They lapsed into silence again. Lace knew by now her contact from Skyhold would see her not at post and would soon send word back to Leliana. That woman sometimes scared Lace, but she didn't—exactly—fear for her life. She knew without a shred of arrogance that she was one of the best in this trade and knew the Nightingale would not cut her off soon. What would happen, however, would be that the Inquisitor and her party would realize two facts: Blackwall's disappearance, and Lace's lack of post presence on the road leading to Val Royeaux. It wouldn't take long to piece things together and, if Lace knew the Inquisitor as well as she thought she did, Melusine would be hot on Blackwall's trail in a matter of hours.

"I took his name to stop the world from losing a good man." Blackwall continued. "I carried on recruiting for him. Without Blackwall, there was no proof that I'd been recruited or that I didn't kill him, so I couldn't go to the Wardens, but I couldn't just walk away either. So Rainier died that day, and Blackwall lived on."

Lace nodded, "I can see the practical side of that." Blackwall didn't seem to appreciate the ease with which she was handling these revelations. Lace had always known there was more to the man than he let on; she worked with men just like him. On the run from a past they felt too ashamed to keep living, desperate to find purpose in self-sacrificial acts out in the field. There were more of those blokes in her ranks than there were people like her, who did it strictly for the money and because they found it fun. Though, Lace did agree with the cause of the Inquisition, so that was a perk.

"The man Blackwall was, he wouldn't have let another die in his place." Blackwall looked at Lace as if pleading with her to condemn him as he'd already condemned himself. "I assumed his name to hide like a coward. From who I really am." He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's over. I'm done hiding. I gave the order. The crime is mine." He opened his eyes again and spoke in a whisper, "I am Thom Rainier."

Well, at least she knew what to call him now. "What are you going to do now, Thom?"

Blackwall's, no Thom's, eyes widened at the use of his name, and a shudder passed through him. Her given name rarely called, but at least she'd never had to lose her surname; her identity. She couldn't imagine what Blackw-Thom was going through at the moment. To have assumed an identity so thoroughly that even in the intimate moments—like the softer, more private conversations they'd shared in the field or at the tavern—he answered to another man's name. Only to have his real name thrown back at him and his past catch up in the middle of a cause like this, one any man who dreams of retribution yearns for.

Lace folded her hands together to keep herself from reaching out to him. They'd exchanged more than mere passing touches. Her memory still buzzed with the sensations of the kiss he'd given her outside the barn only a few nights before. He'd shown her some toys he'd finished, the ones she'd left at her post before running to catch up with him. Somehow their lighthearted flirtation had turned more heated, and to this moment, she didn't know who'd initiated it. Probably a bit of both, as it was obvious that they both held interest for one another.

Thom stripped yet more bark from the log but kept it in hand this time, slowly picking it apart as he spoke, "I'm going to tell them the truth."

"What is the truth?" Lace prodded further, keeping her expression open, her voice soft.

It was more than just for fun, her time spent with him. Although it was fun. Thom was different from all the other men, dwarf and human alike, that she'd playfully bantered with. There were so many qualities in his character she admired. There were so many ideals they had in common that it'd been inevitable for her to feel attracted to him. And even if he had a past, which it was apparent he did, a man couldn't hide his character that thoroughly and for that long. Lace knew, without even hearing of his past, that he was the man she thought he was, even if he'd done horrible things in the past.

"You really want to know?" Lace nodded and watched Thom throw the bark away, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was a well-regarded captain in the Orlesian army. But it wasn't enough. I betrayed an Empire and assassinated a general for gold." So far, nothing too drastic for Lace to handle. She nodded and waited for Thom to continue. "The man was General Vincent Callier. My employer, a chevalier, Robert Chapuis believed that he needed to be eliminated to make way for the true emperor. As Lady Vivienne would say, the Great Game was to be played, and this time through me and my men."

His voice took on an odd quality, his eyes as well, as he lived as much in the past as he spoke in the present. Lace knew Thom was unaware of his surroundings at the moment and used that to her advantage, scooting marginally closer.

"I killed innocent people, Lace." He closed his eyes. "I didn't know Callier would be traveling with his family. I assumed only soldiers, armed guards." He bowed his head and sighed. "My men trusted me when I told them we were on an important mission. They did not question when I told them to eliminate everyone. They'd seen war and thought they were defending their country." Thom broke off and put a hand to his face, covering his eyes.

Lace patted his leg, gaining his attention, and offered a sympathetic smile, "No one likes to think about that."

"Hm?" He dropped his hand back to his arm and stared at her.

"It's names that carry power in this world." As someone with an odd name, she knew that better than most. She shrugged as she added, "Bloodlines. Heirs."

"Yes," Thom sighed, "no matter how leaders like Celene or Gaspard pretend the Game is played, that's how real war is waged."

Lace leaned back on her arms and quoted her father, "'War is unfair, and the sky is blue.' That's what my father always said. Instead of getting caught up in the inequality and unfairness, understand that no matter what you do, that's a fact. So do what you can, with what you can, and move on." She hadn't always agreed with the sentiment, but she respected her father for it.

"There was no need for what I did, Lace. The man sentenced to hang was my second-in-command. He was a good man. When I'd heard he'd been caught, I was resolved to stop his execution. I couldn't let another die for my mistake. I destroyed Mornay's life and the lives of others like him. One mistake and everything I worked for fell apart." Thom dropped his head again as if he could no longer bear to look at her.

Lace heaved her own sigh, "That takes a lot of courage." She swung her legs back and forth; unlike Thom, she couldn't still touch the ground. A common fact.

"Courage?" Thom's eyebrows rose.

"Yes. In my line of work, Thom, I encounter more men like you than you'd feel comfortable acknowledging. I can count on one hand how many of them would be willing to do what you're doing now." Lace shrugged. "I think that counts for something."

Thom shook his head, his frown deep, "One moment of courage will not make up for years of cowardice after the crime I committed." He looked at her then, like really looked at her, and Lace felt as if his eyes were boring into her soul. She somehow managed not to squirm under his scrutiny. "Why are you here?"

"Oh," Lace sighed and reached out to pat his leg again, "I needed you to know you aren't alone in this."

Her words seemed to have the opposite effect, and his voice deepened as if in anger, "Don't you understand? I gave the order to kill Callier, his family, and all his entourage. And I lied to my men about what they were doing. And when it came to light, I ran." Thom stood and paced the ground in front of her. "Those men, my men, should not pay for my treason while I'm pretending to be a better man." He raised his arms at his sides, then dropped them. "This is what I am: a murderer, a traitor, a monster."

Lace scrambled to her feet atop the log, making her eye level with Thom. It was a rare treat to be in this position, and she found that she liked it. Without having to bid him, Thom stepped closer, and Lace framed his face with her hands.

"I know you are more than what you say. Have some faith in yourself." Thom scoffed and started to turn his face away, but she used her grip on him to keep his eyes on her face. "You joined the Inquisition and gave your blood for the cause. And the moment your past comes to call, you turn around and own up to it regardless of consequences."

Thom sighed. His hands traveled up to lay on her waist as if without his awareness, "There will be consequences." He said nothing for a while, and Lace was content to be held and to hold him until he got his thoughts together. When he spoke, his eyes were as soft as his voice, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Lace tipped her head to the side, confused.

"I lied to you."

Lace shook her head and gave a noncommittal shrug, "I don't recall you ever directly lying to me, Thom." She saw a physical reaction in him every time she used his name. It seemed he was growing more accustomed to it. "You've been evasive, true, but you've never lied to me when I asked about your past. The name has been a disguise, more than a lie, I'd say. And actions speak far louder than a name. Just as you're returning to face up to your past actions, you've been doing a damn good job of committing admirable actions in the present. I think that should also count for something."

"I never should have-" Thom started to pull away, his eyes distant. "It wasn't right of me to," his eyes darted from her eyes to her lips and back, "pursue anything with you. You're far too valuable for such-"

Lace looped a hand to the back of his neck and secured her other hand on his shoulder. If he continued to pull back, he'd end up having to hold her in his arms, which wouldn't be unwelcome to Lace either. But at least her movements now ceased his retreat and offered her more time to relish the intimacy.

"You know, Thom," Her fingers curled into his hair, and confirmed her theory that it was soft and perfect to play with, "saving the world doesn't leave a lot of time for doing things by the book." She moved her hand from his shoulder to his neck and began tracing her fingers against his skin there. He was so warm.

His eyes narrowed, and she felt his heartbeat increase in the vein of his neck, "What are you saying?"

"I'm a little afraid, Thom," Lace took a deep breath and slowly let it out, "but I'm also determined. If there is any chance at all of you coming through this alive, I still want you. And not just for laughs." Thom's eyes widened, and he shifted back on his heels in surprise. "Call me crazy, and I might be in all honesty, but I'm convinced enough of there being something legitimate here that," Lace sighed, "well, I'm a tenacious sort of dwarf, and I tend to keep a positive outlook on things. That's what's kept me alive for so long."

Thom smiled, his hands coming up to touch her face, her neck, her hair. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then her temple. Lace breathed in his scent and memorized the feel of him so close. If he wasn't coming back, at least she'd have this memory.

"Sunshine on the other side of every rain cloud, eh?" Thom spoke with his lips close to the skin of her neck. Lace nodded, pulling Thom closer into a full embrace. "Lace, I can't promise anything. I don't think I-"

Lace pulled back and kissed him. There would be no doubt as to who initiated this kiss. He hesitated at first but only for a second, and then his arms tightened, and he tipped his head to the side to deepen the kiss. He opened his mouth, and she did as well, tasting him for the second time. She wasn't a virgin, but neither was she so greatly experienced as to have a lengthy list to compare men to. But she could honestly say Thom was the best kisser of all the men she'd kissed. And she would love to kiss him for the rest of her life. If that was in the books for them.

They kissed until her head swam, and they were both shaking with desire. Thom was the one to pull back, leaning his forehead against hers and breathing in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth as he fought to regain control. Lace understood the sentiment. He didn't have much time if he was to make it to Val Royeaux before the execution. Thom pulled back and smiled. He rubbed his thumbs against her cheeks.

"Thank you, Lace." He kissed her again, albeit briefly. "You've given a broken man something beautiful to cherish in his last-" He cut himself off, knowing that she wanted to hear nothing negative, even if it was fact. "You are quite a woman, Lace. I hope you know that."

Lace smiled, "You can remind me next time I see you."

They kissed a few moments more, lingered in their embrace, and then Lace watched the only man she'd ever loved walk out of sight and possibly into the hands of death. But there was sunshine on the other side of rain, and until she saw the body herself, there was still hope.