Author's Note: Helloooo! Sooo this is the next chapter. It kind of... got away from me? I made it longer than I wanted, and some events changed to make things more dramatic. I'll just let you read it now.

Chapter 6

Elena was standing on the edge of a frozen lake, looking at twin trebuchets, wooden walls encircling a small village, and a forge that was continuously pouring smoke from its chimney. The place she was looking at seemed like a haven in comparison to the place she had just left. Something tugged her eyes to a field where men were usually to be seen locked in mock battles, but the field was clear. The canvas tents stood like sentinels against the breaking dawn. She moved between them, searching. She was supposed to meet someone here. There was something she needed to say or do… she couldn't remember, but it was important to be there. It was important that they were there. She heard her name floating to her on the breeze. It was refined and warm as it landed on her ears gentle as a snowflake. She turned towards the sound, saw a man silhouetted against the breaking dawn and was forced to close her eyes as the sun blinded her.

Elena opened her eyes onto a windowless room. The rough-hewn stone walls had a couple of battered tapestries hanging from them. Around her immediate field of vision she could see broken weapons racks, toppled piles of rusty armor, broken chests, and other assorted piles of refuse. She groaned and held a hand up against her eyes, muting the sputtering light of the torches that were in brackets along the wall. She became aware of warmth coming from her right. She was leaning against the wall and another person, when she turned her head she saw it was Marston. He was asleep, his mouth slightly open, his head listing towards her. She shifted herself away from him and let out a cry as she moved. She had forgotten her injuries. Now they came crashing like cymbals to the forefront of her awareness. Her left shoulder screamed at her as she set her weight down. Her right leg gave a low groan as it dragged across the floor. Before she knew it she had her comrades gathered around her clucking like hens. She brushed them all off and took several large breaths, getting herself together as the pains settled into more manageable amounts.

"Who took the arrow out?" She asked, looking at her now-arrow-free-and-bandaged leg.

"I did. Reeves took care of bandaging. She said I was too clumsy for it." Marston stated, peering into her face as if waiting for her to faint again.

"Thank you both, then. I'm glad you did it while I was unconscious." Elena told them looking around to see who else was there. It looked like most of Smythe's men had been captured as well, but Smythe was nowhere in sight. "Where's Corporal Smythe?"

Everyone shot each other nervous glances, finally one of his troops cleared his throat, "The corporal was killed in action, my lady."

The room grew uncomfortable as everyone looked at her. Elena felt herself grow red under their uncertain gaze. Surely, she didn't appear to be a capable leader crippled as she was, but she had managed to survive an Avaar ambush with only one casualty. Doing a quick count, it looked like Smythe had managed to get out with two casualties, his own included. Their numbers weren't bad. She wondered how many Avaar they had taken with them to pay for the Inquisition lives lost. Her party had killed more than their share, at least five by her memory. Five enemy lives for one Inquisition wasn't so bad. Perhaps she really was a decent leader after all.

"I suppose that means you're stuck with me, then." She joked, shrugging her shoulders, "I think we'll be OK."

"Is the Herald going to send someone for us?" A female soldier from Smythe's party asked, her voice quavering.

Elena nodded, "I know he is. He's my brother. Erik has gotten Adrian and me out of much worse scrapes than this before!" I can't think of any, but they don't need to know that. She added with a mental chuckle. Right now, the truth was less important than morale. If a small lie could help them, she was glad to tell it. The Maker would forgive her, surely.

The gathered soldiers all nodded, their expressions growing brave. They turned away from her and broke back into their smaller groups where they sat muttering amongst themselves. Elena let out a relieved breath. She really didn't feel much like conversing about things she was uncertain of herself. Would Erik come for her personally like the Hand of Korth wanted or would he simply send troops like she suspected. After all, he was the Herald of Andraste and was always busy. She hoped he had stayed at Haven much longer this time. Otherwise, they'd be in for a long, long wait.

The days and nights passed slowly. The windowless room caused time to seem to stand still. The only break in the monotony of sitting and waiting was the once daily time when the Avaar brought them food. It wasn't good food. It was usually thin soup with a loaf of bread and a jug of water. Their waste bucket was removed when the food came and returned when the Avaar came back for the dishes. Two visits a day from people other than the ones in the room was not enough to judge time by, especially since they didn't seem to come on any sort of schedule. Elena got the feeling that they were more of an after-thought to the Avaar, like an inconvenient pet.

On one such visit Marston asked for some clean bandages for the wounded, but was laughed at loudly. Elena, along with the few others, had to manage with dirty bandages and increasing risk of infection. She saw infection begin to set up first in the female with the quavering voice. When she tried to remember the woman's name, she realized she had completely forgotten it. Her head swam and everything felt hot. She had taken off her heavy armor when it became apparent that a quick rescue was not likely to happen. Now, she found herself shivering from the heat inside of her. Elena watched the other woman shiver as well and scooted over next to her. They huddled next to each other, both miserable in their fever. Reeves noticed this and brought them the water jug and food first, trying to force them to eat. However, neither woman had an appetite. Elena smelled the soup and felt nauseous. The water she sipped caused her stomach to clench from its iciness as it slipped down. She pushed the cup and bowl away with a moan and a shake of her head. Then, she curled up against the over-heated body of the other woman and slept.

Elena felt like she spent her life fluctuating between restless sleep, periods of delirium, and periods of lucidity. The delirium becoming more prevalent the longer she stayed in that gods-forsaken windowless room. The other woman had died not long ago and had been dragged out unceremoniously by the Avaar who brought the food. She didn't want to die as well. Where was Erik? She felt herself start to weep and closed her eyes to stop the flow of tears.

She was back between the canvas tents, the walled town before her. The man was standing by the last one, facing away from her. Elena couldn't tell who he was, but something about the way he stood with his hands clasped lightly behind his back was pleasant to look at. He had a great fur collar wrapped around his broad shoulders. She opened her mouth and called out to him, but he either didn't hear her or ignored her. She tried to move towards him and fell, when she looked down at her legs, she found that she didn't have any. They were just bloody, shredded stumps jutting from her hips. Horrified, she screamed for help but no sound escaped her throat. She felt the vocal cords straining to make a sound and realize the man couldn't hear her as she struggled to get to him. She slowly crawled, feeling the gravel beneath her body tear into the ragged flesh of her destroyed limbs. Her finger nails tore at the frozen ground and bled. This couldn't be happening. She looked up and found she was surrounded by corpses in similar or worse condition than she was. Her brother walked by with the man, surveying the battle field. They spoke with regret and sorrow in their voices. She groaned and rolled over, giving up her fight to reach the path. It was a path she had been crawling towards, wasn't it? Or was she trying to find someone? What had led her to this nightmarish fate? What had caused it?

Beyond her field of vision she heard a guttural intake of rattling breath. She turned her head to see a demon moving towards her. Erik and the man weren't too far away… She whipped her head towards them and rolled over, crawling as quickly as she could, but something was pulling her down. The arms of the corpses around her reached out and latched onto her, turning their disfigured faces to hers. She saw Reeves, Marston, Porteur… all clawing onto her and moaning while all the while the demon grew closer to her and the men who could save her further away. Why!? She asked them with the loudest voice she could manage, a creaking whisper. They responded with moans of how she had led them there and so must remain with them forever. This wasn't my fault! She told them, but they were unappeased and only pulled on her harder—

"Trevelyan!" Marston's rough voice snapped at her as his hands slapped her cheeks vigorously, "Wake up! Something's happening." Elena's eyes opened and she realized she had been dreaming. Her entire body shook with the fear from her dream.

Everyone in the room became deathly silent as the sounds of muffled battle leaked through the door. Was that Dorian she heard saying "Ah ha! Another blighter falls!"? Did her brother send his favorite mage to rescue them? Had he come with them? She felt hope rise in her weak body like a bubble. It was fragile, but it was hope. Slowly, the sounds of battle ceased. A minute or two of tense anxiety followed and then the door opened to reveal Erik standing there, bow in hand and a serious look on his face. Marston and Reeves rushed to the door, spilling out the most important facts as quickly as they could.

Erik silenced them with a quiet, "That'll do. Where's my sister?" Reeves and Marston stepped apart to show her sitting against the back wall, staring at him in wonder. Erik didn't have a scratch on him. His clothes were hardly mussed. His face was flushed from battle, but he looked like he had just come in from a swift ride on his horse. He cut a dashing figure in the doorway. "Elena…" He said; his voice cracking as he rushed into the room. Kneeling, he wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest, "Sister, I am so sorry it took me so long to get here."

Elena hardly heard him. She was too busy crying into his chest. With great care to her obvious injuries, he lifted her into his arms. Even though he took as slow and careful steps as he could manage she found herself whimpering and clinging to him. As they left the dilapidated keep a gigantic Avaar with a huge maul approached. Erik handed her to Iron Bull swiftly. The speed at which this transfer happened caused both her shoulder and her leg to be moved so roughly that she passed out from the sheer agony of it all. Thank Andraste. She thought as the dark enveloped her.

When next she woke it was without a fever, but not without pain. She looked around herself, getting her bearings. She was on a bedroll in a tent. Bright sunlight filtered through the canvas casting everything in a soft gold. There was a large rock next to her where a mortar and pestle rested next to a bowl of some foul-smelling poultice leftovers with bandage bits lying scattered about. She grimaced and looked at her injured shoulder by moving her head far to the right. As she suspected she could see a crisp white binding had been put in place. Her left arm had been immobilized by its own set of bindings across her chest. She lifted the blanket on her and looked down at her bare legs to see that that wound, too, had been put into clean bandages. How long had she been out? Who had cared for her? Where was she? Obviously, she was back with the Inquisition and from the lack of stink and rain it was safe to assume they were out of the Fallow Mire. The specifics of her location were beyond her, though. She looked around for some pants and noticed a set of clean clothes hung on a peg near the entrance flap.

Here goes nothing. She thought as she swung her legs out from underneath the blanket. The effort caused her to let out a cry as the torn muscle of her right leg pulled. Her shoulder she was able to baby a little more thanks to her left arm being immobilized. She huffed a couple of breaths out as she waited for everything to settle back down into a manageable amount. Then, she scooted herself stiffly to the end of the bedroll. That wasn't as bad as she had anticipated and she felt quite proud that she had managed this much without further out cries. Now, she just had to figure out how to stand up without putting weight on her leg.

The tent flap opened and Erik entered, rubbing his eyes. His black hair was uncombed, his usually neat clothes were highly wrinkled, and his skin was the gray color of someone who hasn't had enough sleep lately. Elena realized who had been staying with her. He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at her. His face went from exhausted to elated to concerned to upset and then settled on something somewhere between concerned and pleased.

"You're up." He said simply, letting his hands drop by his sides.

Elena nodded, "I am."

"I heard you yelp and so I came to check on you…" He explained unnecessarily. Elena had assumed as much. "What're you doing up and moving?"

"I'm trying to get dressed. Where are we?"

"We're just north of West Hills. Once we got you and the troops out of the Fallow Mire we rode hard to find somewhere it wasn't raining to tend your wounds." He brought her the clothes and began helping her get dressed. "First, we'll take this off…" He told her as he unwound the bandage holding her arm stationary.

"Ouch!" She said as Erik slid her left arm into a sleeve and tugged the shirt over her shoulder. "How bad was I?"

He shrugged, "Not as bad you probably thought you were. Reeves told me that Seariver passed because of her injuries. Apparently, she had a couple of very nasty stab wounds." He began to do the buttons on the shirt for her. "How did you manage to get this shoulder wound? Where was your shield?"

Elena blushed, "I was too slow with it. Later, the same one cracked my shield in half. I killed him for it, though."

Erik nodded, working her feet into the pants. "That's good. I can't believe he didn't crack you in half the first time."

"I've been taught well."

Erik grunted in agreement and pushed the pants up around her knees, bunching the rest around her ankles. "You'll need to stand now." He reached out and grasped her hands, pulling her to her feet. "Hold onto me." Elena leaned forward and placed her weight on her older brother's shoulders. She bit her cheek and inhaled sharply as he got the pants past her injury and around her hips. He fastened them with deft fingers and then picked her up. "Want to go outside?"

She nodded up at him, "Yes. It smells awful in here with that medicine sitting there." Erik walked her outside and placed her on a log near the fire. Then, he went back into the tent and brought out her blanket. He draped that around her shoulders muttering about her catching cold and sat down next to her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, "Where are the others?"

"Oh, they headed back to Haven yesterday once your fever broke. We'll leave today or tomorrow morning, I think. I'm glad you brought Reeves with you. She really knows her way around medicinal herbs. You should thank her. You wouldn't be well enough to sit here without her, much less travel."

"How long was I out?"

"Oooh… about four days. We fed you some stuff that Porteur got from the healing lady in West Hills to keep you asleep."

"I thought Reeves took care of me?"

"She did, but that healer helped as well. It is possible for more than one person to do the same job. Especially when it comes to healing." He teased lightly.

"Is it just you and I out here?" She asked, noticing that there weren't any other tents up around the fire.

"Yes. We're in Inquisition territory. There's no need to worry." Erik paused, and then he asked softly, "Are you ready to head home?"

"To Ostwick? Never. To Haven? Yes."

"Then, you stay here and I'll pack us up." He got up and left, when he returned her thrust a sling at her, "Better put that arm in this. Riding won't be so comfortable without it." She did as he instructed and watched with quiet amusement as he struggled with the tent. As he worked, she idly started throwing dirt onto the fire to douse it. She was glad they were headed home to Haven. She missed the homey little town with its sturdy chantry and wooden walls. She missed her routine, her friends… Elena felt a knot in her throat and her eyes stung. It had been hard being away from all of that. She realized; she felt a little homesick for the quaint town with its sturdy chantry and wooden walls. She started throwing in larger handfuls of dirt, quickly dousing the rest of the embers.

Erik had finished too and come back over, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Well, let's get going. If we start now we should be able to make it to Honnleath by night fall without having to rush."

"All right then." Elena held out her arms so he could lift her. He popped her on sideways on his horse's rear and swung himself up in front of her. Wrapping her arms around his waist lightly she leaned forward and said happily, "Let's go home."

Elena spent the journey in discomfort, despite Erik's best efforts to keep his placid horse from jostling her about too much. Somethings, she supposed, were just about impossible. Horses will jostle your entire body despite their calm and gentle natures. Erik kept her talking most of the way home. They reminisced about their childhood in Ostwick, discussed the Inquisition, gossiped about their friends and companions, and even complained about camp cooking. She tried to relax and would sometimes succeed, but something about the trip was filling her up with anxiety. Haven wasn't too far away. Another day or so and they'd arrive. Her days with her brother were drawing to a close and she was going to miss regular conversation with him. He hadn't been upset about the Fallow Mire incident, but what about her commanding officers? Would they follow his lead and go easy on her since she was still a green horn? Or would they be upset and give her punishment duties for her foolishness in trusting the more experienced officer when she had known better? Elena wasn't sure if she really would mind if Corporal Caylief were to be upset with her or any of the other training masters. So why was she worried about their reaction if she truly didn't mind?

Maybe she did a little bit… only a little. It would be nice to go back to the comfortable routines of training. First, weapons practice, which she would have to wait for until she could stand on her own with no assistance and then, helping the recruits with their lessons, which she could resume immediately. She was glad she would be able to do something at least. It would be boring to be confined to her bed or the Chantry. As long as someone could be found to help her move from one spot to another, she would be all right.

So what was it bothering her?

She was excited to see her friends again. She was excited to be back in Haven. She was even excited to get back to training, if she was a little apprehensive of her welcome. She couldn't place her finger on it. This topic consumed her thoughts when she wasn't conversing with Erik. It also helped to speed the journey along so that before she realized it, they were outside the main gates to Haven. She looked around as they passed under the portcullis leading down the road that would take them to the little town.

"You ready to be home?" Erik asked her, his voice warm and gentle like sunshine on a spring day. "I know I am." He sighed and mused aloud, quietly, "I wonder what Dorian has been up to while I've been away…?"

Elena shrugged, "He's probably running the entire Inquisition by now." She teased, thinking of the mage's charismatic and self-assured nature.

Erik chuckled, "Probably. I'll have to convince him to give it back to the others and me somehow."

"I don't know how you're going to manage that. I, for one, am just pleased to be getting off this horse permanently. It's been a long ride." Elena shifted in the cramped saddle and added, "Plus the company is absolutely wretched. I mean, have you ever had to ride in front of the Herald of Andraste herself? All he wants to talk about is his life before being the Herald and then once you get him off that subject he just wants to talk about the Inquisition and the weather!? Honestly, the man is insufferable!"

"I knooow. That man really needs to get his head out of his own ass and think about others for once. It's like this whole Inquisition thing is really just so he can go off on adventures and prove how amazing he is. He may as well ride right up to Empress Celine and shout at her 'LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! I'm the Herald! Look how amazing I am!'" Erik chipped in laughing along with her, "But I'm sure his riding companion is just as bad. She must think she is so terrific at fighting and taking care of herself. I mean, here is this woman who gets an arrow through her leg and all she does is complain about her riding companion."

"How ungrateful! Without him she would surely fall off the horse and be lost to wolves or worse… NUGS!"

"Oh don't get me started on nugs!" Erik groaned dramatically.

"Get started on nugs, Erik. Please say what we've all been thinking about nugs."

"Nugs! Nugs! What is the point of nugs!? They're everywhere, and yet they aren't equipped to survive anywhere but a cave. The darn things have zero hair on their bodies and so they just blister in the sun. They can't even defend themselves. Not only that, they're not even wise enough to run away from danger. Most times, they're running towards the danger."

"I know! Come on, nugs! Don't you have a brain!?"

"Oh, Lane, of course they do! It's just they choose not to use it."

The pair of them were laughing at their own ridiculously horrible jokes hard enough to bring attention to themselves as they made their way to the stables. Erik managed to get himself together enough to guide the horse into the stable yard and dismount. He reached up and helped Elena from the saddle, settling her against the fence, where she held on to the top rail, standing on one foot. He unsaddled the horse while she finished giggling. From behind her she heard a man clear his throat.

"Herald, a word?" He called out to Erik in a voice that sent a chill down her spine. She turned around and saw Cullen standing there, hands clasped behind his back, looking pointedly not-at-her.

Erik walked over, and lifted Elena's arm around his shoulder, "Sure. Can you walk and talk? I want to get Elena into the Chantry to see Mother Giselle sooner rather than later."

Cullen's eyes slid down to hers and then quickly shot back to Erik's. Was that a blush? "Of-of course."

Erik nodded, hoisting Elena into his arms with ease before he began striding away with large smooth steps, "You've really lost some weight, Lane." He told her concern flavoring his voice, "What do you want for dinner tonight? You can have anything at all." Clearly, Erik was not going to entertain the Commander at the expense of his sister's care.

"What do you think they've got at the Maiden?" Elena queried, feeling a bit awkward. Erik was walking quickly, avoiding bumping her about with surprising ease and adeptness. She was impressed.

"I don't know. Let's ask the Commander." Erik looked up at Cullen with a warm smile, "Commander, what does Flissa have for food at the Singing Maiden tonight? Do you know?"

Cullen sighed, "I don't. I usually eat in my quarters."

"Pity. Perhaps you could have joined us." Erik shrugged, "No matter. What would you like to discuss?"

"I just wanted to know when you intended to follow up on that Storm Coast matter with the Blades of Hessarian? They're reporting some darkspawn activity."

"Commander, we can discuss that once we get Elena settled, yeah?" Erik stopped at the Chantry door, "Do you mind opening that for me?" Cullen obliged and Erik brushed past him. Something was bothering him.

"Really, Erik, I don't mind if you want to—" Erik glared down at her cutting her off, "Or not." Cullen opened the door to Erik and Elena's shared quarters for them and Erik moved swiftly inside.

"I'll go get you some food." He told her, fluffing a pillow behind her back and pulling the blankets up around her hips. He turned and motioned for Cullen to follow him out of the door. It closed quickly, almost as if it had been pulled shut. From behind it Elena could hear Erik's raised voice. What was he upset about? After a few moments, silence fell and Elena was left completely alone. She sighed and scrunched herself down further under the covers and went to sleep.

"Lane." Erik patted her cheek gently, "Lane wake up." Her eyes fluttered open and he helped her sit upright. "I brought you some stew and bread. It was all they had at the Maiden tonight. Camp food wasn't any better. This smelled the best." He explained as he placed a tray across her lap.

She picked up the spoon on the tray and looked at him, blinking blearily, "Thanks. Where's yours?"

Erik shook his head, "I've got plans with Dorian tonight. He's catching me up on the latest gossip around Haven."

"You really like him, huh?"

"Who?"

"Dorian."

Erik noticeably went pink about the ears, "Well, he's a lot of fun. He's very different from everyone else around here."

"And he's handsome." Elena pointed out from around her food. The stew was delicious. It had large chunks of meat and vegetables in a flavorful broth. It was warm, but not scalding. She hadn't had anything this good since before she left Haven in the first place. She paused in her chewing, thinking about that. The last time she had had food this good was… when she ate with Cullen. She put her spoon down and swallowed.

"Oh, he's very handsome." Erik agreed giving her a wink, "And he knows it, too."

Elena nodded silently, "What were you yelling at the Commander about?"

"What?"

"What. Were you. Yelling. At the Commander. About?" Elena broke her question up into shorter sections, saying each one carefully and loudly, "You know. Earlier."

Erik sighed and turned away from her, "I was upset with how he treated you."

Elena was genuinely puzzled, from what she had interpreted he hadn't done anything wrong. "How so? I don't feel like his mistreated me."

"I didn't think you did. Like I said, I was upset with how he treated you."

"Ok, but you didn't answer my question."

"Elena, when someone you know personally is sick or hurt, what do you do? What did Mother teach us?"

"You check on them and help if you can."

Erik nodded sagely, "Did he even greet you at the stables?" Elena shook her head, "Did he ask about how you were feeling?" Elena shook her head again, "Did he immediately start speaking to me about business when it was obvious that I had other, more important things to attend to?" Elena raised her arms up. "You don't know? You were there!"

"What's important to you may not be important to him."

"Elena, you are important!" Erik shouted and quickly brought his voice to a slightly lower decible, "You are obviously someone both of us care about but only one of us was acting like it." He looked away from her, obviously trying to get himself under control.

"Well, duh, but he may have seen me standing there and thought 'Oh, she must be feeling well enough for me to ask a simple question.'" She said jumping to defend Cullen for some unknown reason, "And, Erik, you know Cullen—"

Erik whipped his head to look her directly in the face and whispered, "What did you call him?"

"Cullen. That's his name."

"He's your commanding officer."

"So? He called me Elena before I left." She pouted, "What does it matter? They're only names."

"He called you by your first name!?"

"Yes, Erik, he calls you by your first name!"

"No, he doesn't!" Erik stood and started pacing.

Elena was confused again, "What is happening? I wasn't done arguing with you!"

"Oh, oh yes you are." He swooped in close to her, "Listen to me, little sister. That… that man… is not to call you by your first name. You are not to call him by his first name. He is Commander or Commander Rutherford to you. You are anything but Elena to him. I won't have my sister messing around with a man ten years older than her. Especially not Cullen Rutherford." He paused, his blue eyes searching her own, "Am I understood?"

Elena felt her hackles rise, "Who do you think you are? Telling me who I can and cannot call by their given name? Mother would be appalled to hear you speak so to me!"

"Mother! Elena Mother would be happy I told you to not be so familiar with him! He's not a good person!"

"How do you know!?"

"He was second in command in Kirkwall, Elena! He's got this thing with the mages-"

Elena decided enough was enough and interrupted him "ALL Templars have this thing with the mages! Just because you're thinking about fooling around with one doesn't mean I can't be friends with Cullen!" She spat his name out with spite for her brother's ridiculousness.

"You think he's your friend? Would your friend ignore you when you came home with injuries so severe you had to be escorted individually by the Herald of Andraste?"

"You aren't usually so quick with that title, but now that it's convenient to your point- here you are the big, bad Herald of Andraste. You don't even believe all that nonsense, Erik. You're just mad because you can't be the boss of me anymore. Cullen is weird about social interactions sometimes. He probably didn't know what to say to me and so he chose to say nothing until he can get his thoughts together. For Andraste's sake, think about things from other people's points of view before you go making wild-accusations and forbidding me from forming relationships with them!" She grumbled, coming to a stop and pushing her stew away from herself. She crossed her arms and stared into the fire moodily.

"If you want to fool around with that man, then fine! But when you learn who he truly is, don't come crying to me about it!" He spun on his heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard that a vase toppled from a nearby shelf and shattered on the floor. She felt her lips tremble and then the door opened again, Erik thrust his head back inside, "Eat your stew!"

Elena picked up the bowl, "I'm not," She lobbed it at him, "hungry!" The bowl flew across the room and smashed onto the wall, but Erik was already gone. She threw her hunk of bread at the door as well. Her resolve had completely vanished and she burst into tears. She hated fighting with her brother and leaving it like that. It was so childish of them to behave like that. She rolled over, bringing her pillow against her chest and cried herself to sleep.

Author's Note: In which find out pretty definitively that Erik and Dorian are almost definitely a thing and that Elena has really grown into an independent woman who don't need her brother's approval to be interested in a man. Erik, on the other hand, can't let go of her being his little sister. To him, she's probably still twelve. Elena, however, still thinks he's pretty great even though he snubbed her pretty hard. She's willing to forgive cute guys for their misdeeds like most people. Something about thinking someone is dreamy really makes it easy to let things like that just go... annnyyywaaaay Happy Holidays! Peace and blessings be upon you. -Danbamina

PS: Here's a fun holiday story from my real life. One time, I made nachos and I had asked my sister, who was visiting for Christmas, if she wanted any. She said no. So I made nachos. When they came out of the oven (I had broiled them) she saw what she thought was a surplus of nachos and started trying to eat them. I told her they were all for me (there really weren't that many). And so she picked up one and threw it at me. Then, we got into a fight about nachos. She was 23 and I was 17. Yep... The End.