The air around me felt thick, like it had forgotten how to flow. Or maybe it was time that had forgotten itself. I couldn't tell. I just knew that my body felt strong as I pressed on through the heavy emptiness around me. I was looking for someone, but I wasn't sure who I was looking for until I found her.

She was sitting alone, on the old tyre swing we had hung up one summer over the lazy stream that would eventually feed into the roaring rapids of the river Nethan, but the trickling waters I stepped into were unaware of their destination. They thought they would keep flowing this gently forever, but I could already hear the bone-breaking crash of the waterfall ahead. I wondered if I could rescue some of the water in a bucket, but it would all go back into the air and look like clouds eventually anyway, so I let the stream sacrifice itself endlessly to the chaos.

"What did we call this place?" I asked, struggling to hold onto the memory as it slipped through my grasp like so much sand.

"Don't you remember? We're up the Hutch Road, past Ballantyne's farm."

"The road circles around three of the villages and eventually becomes The Dunlap."

"Sounds to me like you know exactly where you are." She said, with a challenge in her smile. "But do you know where you're going?"

"I was looking for you." I said. Suddenly, I wasn't pleased to see her. "You went away. You left me alone and I was looking for you and it brought me somewhere bad."

She looked at me, thoughtfully.

"Do you remember what happened to you here?" She asked, studying my face as she started to swing. I shook my head. "We came here every summer. We loved it here. And then one year, you didn't come back."

"Nothing happened." I insisted, feeling the stillness of the air wrap itself around me like a python. "Everything looks the same."

"So what changed?" She asked, knowing the answer already.

"I did."

"You did."

"I didn't realise I had until I came back here. I was alone. Everything looked the same, but everything was different." I confessed. "It took coming back here to realise that I wasn't the same person I was before. I didn't realise it sooner because I still wore her clothes."

"You were in costume." She said, with a distracted giggle. "I don't blame you. You were only a child. Jordan Christie may have been the one who got crushed and mangled, but he didn't have to deal with it. He didn't even know what had happened. He got peace and silence, and you got nightmares and screaming and cinnamon heartburn. Jordan Christie may have been crushed, but you got crushed right along with him."

"Emily…"

"Remember, Lauren? You didn't even cry. You just let the clouds cry for you." She looked up at the clear blue sky above us. "Looks like a storm's coming."

I followed her gaze. There wasn't a cloud in sight.

"Why are you saying these things?" I asked, angrily. "This isn't making me feel better."

"I'm not trying to make you feel better." She said, sticking out her tongue. She flickered, and she was five years old. She flickered again, and the tree that the tyre swing hung from became her tree, and she was propped against the twisted, black trunk, pale and lifeless and bloody. The world changed and the tyre swing disappeared. We were lying side by side in my cramped dungeon cell, facing each other. "I'm trying to show you. The change. It's happening again. Another mask is falling to the floor. You get to decide if you'll still recognise your face in the mirror by the end of it all."

"I don't want to stay here." I whispered, hugging my knees to my chest. "I was looking for you and it brought me somewhere bad."

"Are you sure it was me you were looking for?" She asked, sadly.

"Who else would I be trying to find?"

"The girl you used to be."

"She doesn't exist in this place." I said, firmly.

"Do I?"

"I don't know." I said, miserably. "But I don't know how to be anywhere but here."

"You have to stop searching for me." She said, sternly. "You and I? We'll find each other. But you have big things to do first."

"I'm scared of the future."

"It's more scared of you than you are of it."

"Emily…"

"Don't you do this." She said, urgently. I frowned in confusion. "Don't you do this to me, Lauren." Her mouth was moving, but her voice had changed. It was deep, masculine, frantic. Alistair's voice. "Stay with me! It's not working, she's not waking up!"

"I have to go back now, don't I?" I asked, reaching out and stroking her cheek. She smiled, grimly.

"I love you." She said, in a double-timbre that was both her voice and Alistair's. "You can't leave me."

I closed my eyes in the Fade and opened them in Ferelden.

"Lauren? Oh, thank the Maker." Alistair pulled me into a fierce hug as I struggled to remember the dream I had just had. It felt important, but it was already fading. I closed my eyes, tightly, half struggling to remember, half breathing in the scent of his skin. "I thought I'd lost you." He said, choking back a sob. The strength of his emotion sent shockwaves through me and jolted me back to reality. I let go of the spectre of sleep and held onto him instead.

"I'm here." I promised, leaning back and taking his face in my hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry." He said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, I just...I was so scared that I was too late, that you-"

"You did a good job." I said, soothingly. "I knew you would. I told you. You've got this. Wouldn't have checked out if I didn't trust you to see it through."

He breathed out in a silent laugh of relief before embracing me again, tightly. I winced reflexively as his arms wrapped around my back, before I realised that it didn't hurt. I gently extricated myself from his embrace to run my own hands over the small of my back. Someone had dressed me in a cotton smock, but even through the fabric I could feel that my torn flesh was now whole. My skin felt smooth under the cotton and I laughed out loud at the wonder of it all. I looked around the room and for the first time, noticed Wynne sitting slumped back in a wooden chair by my bedside, looking exhausted but smiling in relief.

"You healed me." I said, incredulously. She smiled, modestly.

"I closed your wounds." She said, matter-of-factly. "It was no small task, granted. But you've still lost a lot of blood. You should rest." She said, throwing Alistair a pointed look.

"The others?" I asked, ignoring her sound advice. I didn't feel like resting. I couldn't remember my dream, but the feeling of unease it had brought still lingered.

"They're not back yet." Alistair said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear and gazing lovingly at me as though he was only seeing me for the first time. "What do you need? Do you want food? A bath? Sleep?"

"Food." I groaned. "And a bath. I need both things simultaneously."

"Alright. You just stay there, I'll draw you a bath and bring you a plate."

"I love you." I grinned, leaning forward and kissing him, tenderly.

"I love you too." He said, his face serious. "I love you more than I ever thought anyone could love another person." He lingered on the edge of my bed, staring at me.

"Food?" I prompted, and he shook himself out of his stupor and rose to his feet, leaving me with a kiss on my forehead. I watched him go, smiling as I sank back into my pillows. "He's a good boy." I said, affectionately, to Wynne. She closed her eyes and nodded, slowly.

"He is." She agreed, solemnly. A sudden thought struck me and I jolted upright, horrified at myself for not thinking it sooner.

"Speaking of good boys, where's Larry?" I asked.

Wynne sighed.

"That hound of yours has been impossible while you've been gone. He destroyed all of the furniture in Alistair's room. The armourer, Wade, recommended a kennel master who could take care of him while we looked for you. Honestly if we hadn't kennelled him, it would have taken twice as long to find you because we would have spent half the time trying to calm him."

"Oh, Larry." I said, sadly. My heart ached for him. "He's a little angel. How far is the kennel?"

"Don't worry, Grayson will fetch him. I told you, you need to rest."

"Can't. Brain's too busy." I said, trying to sound flippant, but she smiled sadly at me.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine." I said. "You did a great job."

"I don't mean physically. How are you feeling?"

"Oh. You mean emotionally?" I frowned. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't checked. Hold on, let me just do a quick scan." I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, concentrating. "Guilty. Yep, there's definitely guilt there. Guilt for getting caught, for worrying everyone, guilt that Larry's all by himself and probably feeling alone and sad and scared. Guilt that I made Alistair cry. I made Leliana cry. Anger. Anger at Leliana for killing the man who captured me, because I wanted to do it myself. Anger with Howe, with Loghain, for all the lives they've ruined and the people they've hurt. That torture room wasn't built for me, I was just a guest there. One of many. Anger at all the men who hurt me."

"The men who hurt you." Wynne repeated, and I opened my eyes to look at her. Her face looked drawn and when she tried to smile, it looked odd and tight, like it pained her to move her face like that. "Lauren...I didn't want to ask when Alistair was here. But those men...if they...if they did something to hurt you…"

"You saw the wounds, Wynne." I said, confused. She sounded like she was asking a question, but I wasn't sure what she wanted my answer to be.

"I mean...if they hurt you in a way that didn't leave a mark…"

"What? Like if they insulted me? Sticks and stones and all that." I shrugged. "Besides, what could they say that would hurt me? That my face is too symmetrical? I'm good. I'm pretty self-assured."

"I know that, dear. I mean, if they...violated you, in any way...that's something you should talk about. And you can always talk to me, if you need to."

I realised what she meant and blinked, rapidly. The thought hadn't even occurred to me, but now that it did it seemed so obvious.

"They didn't touch me." I promised. "Not like that."

"Oh." She breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Andraste be good. There are some wounds that magic cannot heal."

"Shit. Yeah." I said, stunned. "Wow. That's crazy. I didn't even think about...and now I am thinking about it and it's making me even angrier. So I'm angry, I feel guilty, I feel sad...but at the same time, I feel nothing. I feel hollow. The things I'm feeling...they're more like echoes of emotion. Does that make sense?"

"Yes." She said, sadly. "You've gone through a lot. Your mind is protecting itself."

"Well, hopefully that protection lasts until after we take down an Archdemon and then I can have a breakdown." I said, glibly.

"There's something else…" Wynne said, looking uncertain.

"What is it?" I asked, frowning. There was a hesitation in her eyes that worried me.

"Perhaps it's a conversation best had when you're feeling a little stronger." She said, carefully.

"I feel strong." I said, and I meant it. For some reason, I felt bullet-proof. I felt like nothing could hurt me ever again. If I had sat with the feeling a little longer, if I had invited it in and spoke with it I might have realised it was armour born of trauma. But I didn't do that. Wynne must have known though, because she still looked reluctant. "Please. If there's anything else you want to say to me, now's the time. Alistair will be back soon and before you know it, we'll be back on the road with little to no privacy."

"Very well. I would like to preface this by saying it is not an attack." She said, kindly. I immediately felt defensive. If she had to tell me it wasn't an attack, it would probably feel like one. "I know your secret. I will keep it, if you ask me to. But I will admit, I am curious."

I froze, like a rabbit in headlights. She couldn't be talking about my secret. Not the secret. How could she possibly know?

Play dumb. My brain instructed me. I arranged my face into a frown of confusion.

"What secret?" I asked.

She smiled, knowingly.

"I know about your other." She said. I blinked in real confusion this time. She seemed to sense my blank stare was genuine, because she tried to elaborate. "Your passenger." She tried again. "Your spirit."

"Okay." I said, slowly. "Wynne, are you feeling alright? That healing must have really taken it out of you, maybe you should have a lie down."

"I admit, I am tired. But I am not a fool." She said, her kind tone taking on a stern edge. I was reminded forcibly of a school-teacher.

"I'm sorry, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"I felt it, Lauren. When I was healing you." She said, and I could sense she was starting to lose her patience. So was I.

"Felt what? I'm not trying to decieve you, I really don't know what you're talking about."

A flicker of confusion and wonder crossed her face and she peered at me, studying my face for any sign of deception.

"Perhaps it will be easier if I tell you my own story first." She said, with a heavy sigh. "Back at the Circle, during Uldred's coup...I died."

I waited for her to get on with the story before realising she was pausing to give me a chance to react to this brand new information. I gasped in faux shock. Seemingly satisfied, she continued.

"Yes. I was fighting and I died. As I passed into the Fade, a benevolent spirit reached out to me. I accepted it's aid, and the spirit resurrected me. I believe it did so because I still have something to contribute to this world. Truth be told, it's the reason I insisted on coming with you and the other Wardens. When I was healing you, I felt the Spirit of Valour inside of you."

"Spirit of Valour." I repeated, numbly. "I don't have one of those."

"Oh, but you do. Curious, as you are not a mage."

"Impossible, as I am not a mage." I corrected.

"Oh, nonsense. People are always arrogant enough to believe they know all of the things that exist within the realms of possibility. Reality is rarely so black and white."

"Wynne...are you certain?" I asked, slow panic starting to rise in my chest.

"I am." She said. "Are you really saying you didn't know?"

"I have a Spirit of Valour in me. It's in me right now? I'm possessed?" I asked, hoarsely.

"Possession is not truly the right word. I would say you are connected."

"I don't want to be connected." I said, struggling to stay calm. "Disconnect it. I want it gone. Can you get it out? I want to get it out. Get it out. Get it out of me."

"It's not as easy as that. And even if I could, I'm not sure why you would want to." She said, frowning. "The Spirit of Valour is benevolent and rare. If it has chosen to align itself with you, that is a very special thing. No doubt it has protected you without you even realising."

"What? No, I don't…" My head hurt. The room was suddenly spinning. "Can it hear me? Can I talk to it?"

"No, dear." She said, gently. "You are still you. In truth, I know very little on the subject, other than what I have learned from my own experience, and a Spirit of Valour is rarer still. I can only guess at how it's presence would manifest. Perhaps it will reinforce your sword arm when your strength is waning, or help you to move faster on the field of battle when you need it most. Either way, it's a most helpful guardian to have as a Grey Warden."

I didn't reply. I was dumbstruck. It made sense, in a way. In another, more urgent way, it horrified me. Certainly, it explained the "battle-brain". I had known all along that these skills weren't mine, but I had thought of it in terms of The Matrix, not The Exorcist.

"Lauren?"

"Wynne, could…" I cleared my throat, wondering how to phrase my question. "Say...hypothetically, I have this friend. And this friend has never held a sword, never been in so much as a fist fight in her...their life. And then this friend goes through kind of a traumatic upheaval...let's call it a tear-in-the-veil-related incident. During this incident, say hypothetically that a Spirit of Valour finds this friend of mine. And then when my friend wakes up, she...they can fight. I mean like, really fight. Like catch daggers out of the air and best ten armed men. Hypothetically, do you think a Spirit of Valour could be responsible for my friend's new abilities?"

"Hypothetically? Yes. I would say a Spirit of Valour could very well be the reason that you...I mean your friend can fight. After all, in instances of demonic possession - which I only cite as it's much more common - a Templar or a Mage can often provoke the demon into showing itself by attacking the host. The demon will emerge to protect itself. It's possible that Valour would do something similar, by showing your...friend's body how to move."

"Okay. Okay. Okay." I said, slowly. "Okay. Okay."

"Lauren, please...I am well aware that I tend to offer advice and you rarely accept it, but if there is one piece of wisdom I can truly hope to pass to you, let it be this. This is a good thing. This spirit has sensed something within you, something as rare and powerful as Valour itself. It has recognised you as kin. It is not a demon. There are many things in this world that we cannot begin to understand, but that doesn't mean we should regard them with fear."

"I don't understand. You've healed me before." I said, scrambling for reasons that what she was saying couldn't be true.

"I have cast minor healing spells on you, that is true. But this time was different. Alistair was not exaggerating, Lauren. You were dying. Had you been anyone but a Grey Warden, I am confident you would not have survived. I had to draw on the power of the spirit within me, and when it started to grow weak, I reached out instinctively and found power within you. I found Valour. Valour helped to save your life today, as I'm sure it has before and will again."

"So...to be clear. I have a Spirit of Valour inside of me. It's not going to change who I am. It just...protects me? Helps me to fight? I'm not an abomination?" I asked the last part quietly, afraid to say the words out loud.

"I wondered the same thing of myself." She said, thoughtfully. "I spoke with Grayson, when I told him my tale." She chuckled, quietly. "That boy is more perceptive than any one of us gives him credit for. He said something that has resonated with me, and I believe it to be true. He said if one retains one's humanity, then by definition one cannot be an abomination."

"That's cute, but I mean really, am I?" I asked, dismissively.

"No, dear. I don't believe so." She said, firmly.

"Okay...fuck me, this has been a weird week." I said, running my hands through my hair and wrinkling my nose in disgust at the filth that still clung to it.

"I won't tell the others if you wish to keep this between us." She said, kindly.

I frowned, thoughtfully, and immediately rejected the idea.

"No." I said, shaking my head. "No, I want to tell them. I don't want another secret. I mean, I don't want a secret." I corrected, quickly, but I could see her curiosity pique.

"Can I ask...this tear-in-the-veil related incident that you...your friend experienced. You haven't mentioned it before. It sounds like quite an extraordinary event."

"That's not something I can talk about." I said, reluctantly. "Not to anyone. I wish I could tell you more, but it's best if you just forget I said anything."

"Well, I am an old woman. My memory isn't what it used to be." She said, with a terse smile. I grinned at her, gratefully.

"Thank you, Wynne. For everything." I said, sincerely. "You haven't said in as many words that you risked your life for mine when you healed me, but I know that's what you did. I would never expect anyone to do that for me, and I hope I don't ever have to put you in that position again."

"That's why I'm here." She said, and I could tell from her tone that she meant it. "I don't know how much time I have left. It could be a day, or a week, or a month. Or it could be ten years. As long as I draw breath, all I can hope is that I make the task ahead of you a little easier."

"You're indispensable." I said, with an affectionate smile. "And I have a feeling you have a lot more time left than you think you do. Call it a Warden's intuition."

"You may be right. That would be nice." She said, though I could tell she was humouring me.

"Besides. None of us really know how long we have. I almost bought it today. It doesn't really matter how much time we have here. What matters is what we do with the time we have. It matters that we make it count for something bigger than ourselves." I said, borrowing some wisdom from Gandalf.

"A fine sentiment." She said, approvingly. "Now, I should go and let you rest. I know you won't, but I would like you to try. Alistair should be back shortly with something to eat. If you don't mind, I think I shall try to get some rest, myself."

She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet and I instinctively sat up, moving to help her, but she held out a hand to still me.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired." She said, with a weary smile. I watched her take a few shaky steps towards the door before I couldn't sit back and watch any longer and I leapt out of bed, realising as I did so that the whole blood-loss thing was no joke, but I fought off the light-headedness and rushed to help her. She accepted my aid, wordlessly, and we made our way to her room in silence.

I helped her into bed and absent-mindedly tucked her in as she watched me with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Do you need anything? Would you like a glass of water?" I asked, bending down to straighten her sheets. When she didn't answer, I looked up at her face to see she was already asleep. On an impulse I bent down and planted a light kiss on her forehead. "Thank you." I whispered. "Sleep well."

I met Alistair in the hallway as I made my way back to my room and I beamed at him when I saw the mountain of food he had managed to pile up on the small, bronze plate in his hands.

"You're up." He said, in surprise, before narrowing his eyes, sternly. "Get back to bed this instant, young lady."

I knew he was joking, but even in jest his commanding tone sent a pleasant shiver down my spine and I grinned, flirtatiously.

"Are you going to make me?" I asked, reaching out and plucking a cube of cheese from the top of the food pile and popping it into my mouth in what I hoped was a seductive way. He stared at my lips, a little slack-jawed, before clearing his throat.

"Huh?" He asked, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet mine. "Sorry, I didn't hear what you said, I was too busy loving everything about you."

I grinned in amusement and he smirked in kind.

"Come on, you. Your bath is ready. You can eat first, or bathe first, or do both at the same time, whatever you feel you need."

"Food first. I've been disgusting for a week now, a few more minutes won't kill me but starvation might just finish me off." I said, leading the way into his bedroom. "Besides, I need to talk to you about something. You are not going to believe what Wynne just told me."

AN: Wow, I'm kind of overwhelmed by all of the positive reviews on the last chapter. Thank you guys so much for taking the time to share your thoughts with me! I really do appreciate it. Feedback is a writer's best friend so please, if you can, keep them coming!

I did just want to address a question from LeliMor29 RE Lauren's lack of regret over not being able to avenge her sister's death when she thought she was dying. It's a good question, and I did start to write out some of Lauren's thoughts on the matter but it didn't feel right for the mood of the chapter. I felt like it fit her character development better to show that her thoughts were of loving and missing the people who mattered most to her when she was at her lowest point, I couldn't figure out a way to tie in that sort of bitter anger in a seamless way. Lauren has the thoughts, I just write them down :P I don't want to forget about Emily though, because she's still going to be really important later on. Maybe sooner rather than later...but that's all I'll say for now :D