WARNINGS: NSFW. Depicted non-con (touching/brief/not graphic). Violence. Lots of fluff.

CULLEN

I had heard her. Heard her from the moment she had entered my chambers beyond the Fade. As she fiercely promised that she was coming for me. Felt as she'd taken my hand and reached out to me.
Felt her within my mind, within the demon's prison, her presence indescribable. Heard her calling for me, singing to me as she fought her way to where I was chained, but I had been unable to do anything. The demon's hold too great.
On my knees within that magical cage, chained to the floor, the demon had slowly been tearing apart the seams of my mind. Playing over and over every memory, every thought, every word that had given it shape when I had finally been made to face my sins.
Guilt. Regret. Shame.
I had felt each in the months between Meredith's fall and Haven, but in the end, shame had not left me. Regret, I had let go of, knowing there was no undoing what had been done. Guilt, faced in knowing I would use this second chance to atone.
But shame…shame I could not escape. The man I had become had so disgusted me, I could hardly bear looking in the mirror. And he had been born in this magical cage.

"No, please, no!" Meira's voice echoed around. It was full of fear and panic, the sound stirring something powerful within me. "Please!"

"Oh, how delicious is your shame!" The demon sang, but its voice was familiar, no longer its own. "And why does this form bring it out? Make it so fragrant?"

Meira made a noise of abject terror. The sounds of a struggle, something scraping along stone as she screamed out, filled my ears. Anger began to churn in my gut and, slowly, I felt the demon's hold on me lessen, as its focus shifted to Meira. Skull pounding, senses muddled, I opened my eyes.
Much of what I saw, I did not understand; but before me, just beyond the magical barrier, a scene that made rage set my blood aflame unfolded. Meira, dazzling and made of starlight, was swallowed in blackest shadow as she sank beneath the nightmares of painful memories. She struggled madly against the chains holding her to the floor. Her feet desperately kicking at the ground as the demon, wearing Alrik's face, grasped her ankles and dragged her to him.
At the contact Meira, as she was beyond the Fade, was revealed. A grotesque smile curled the demon's mimicry of Alrik's mouth as it climbed atop her. She fought like a wild animal, her eyes dilated with fear. That rancor at Alrik's disgusting memory sang in my veins and I began to pull on the chains holding me.

"Ah, I see," the demon—Alrik—whatever it was, spoke as he grabbed Meira's wrists and wrenched them over her head; the chains tightening, pinning them to the floor there, "What he did to you. He so violated you, so broke you, you believe yourself unworthy, unable to be loved. Why is that I wonder?"
The demon became Meira as she would have been as a child, covered in blood and mud. "Because your own kin were afraid of you? Rejected you?"
Cuts opened along the demon's jaw, the same as the scars Meira bore from nearly being stoned. "Because the world feared you?"
The demon transformed into Meira as I knew her in the tower, its eyes meeting mine. "Because the boy you loved grew to fear you?"
Shame became Alrik once more, concentrating on Meira. "That when he marred you…," The demon stripped away part of her armor. The skin beneath exposed, Meira sobbing uncontrollably as the demon's fingers pawed her scars.

"Stop," I huffed, my jaw struggling to work through the demon's hold.

"When he tasted you…" Meira pleaded, begged for it to stop. I jerked against the chains holding me as the demon's hands groped the body of the female I loved.

"Stop it," I tried again, my voice a growl.

"You stopped fighting and succumbed." The demon shifted, wearing my face, but perfected and cruel. It bent close to her, lips running down her throat before its hands clamped around it.
"You became the monster they feared you were." Meira's legs flailed in desperation as she struggled for breath, the chains holding her hands above her head rattling violently.
"But why carry such shame?" He seized ahold of her face. "The power you hold…what power I could gain."
His smile widened past what was physically possible, teeth turning to fangs, its tongue grotesque as it lapped up her cheek. "All you have to do is ask. Just let me in and your suffering will end." She cried out again and it laughed.

My vision was red, my body shaking with murderous wrath. I couldn't stand, the weight of all my shame upon my shoulders, in the chains holding me down. But the fury surging through me at the sight of this demon—the demon I had birthed—hurting Meira this way, was such as I had never known. The chains clanked, the song of lyrium tinkling in the metal, as I threw myself at the demon.
"I will kill you!"

The demon turned, its face twisting into my own. Templar armor glinted as glazed, lyrium-addled eyes flicked over me with contempt. "Be silent. We both know you're too weak to stop me."
The demon passed through the barrier, shifting into Desire. "I tried and tried to get you to take the lyrium, but to no avail." Meira lay weeping upon the floor behind it.
"And now?" The demon knelt to me, caressing my face. "You're going to watch as I break your mage."

I strained against my chains, "Do not touch her." I tried to grab the demon, but it only smiled.

Meira tried to scramble away, to kick at the demon as it went back to her, becoming Alrik once more. The Fade shifted. Meira was in that cell—naked, terrified and chained.
The demon wearing the face of her torturer, making her relive those moments. Feel the shame he had caused her. I listened as the female I loved cried out in terror. Her screams clawing at my heart. Shame's laughter unleashing black ferocity within me.

"I swear to the Maker, demon, I am going to kill you!" The creature only laughed louder, Meira's suffering tormenting me. I raged at it, wrenching at the chains holding me down, fighting with everything I had. Desperate noises tore from my throat as I knew I was helpless.
"Meira, just hold on!" I cried, her torment reaching an unbearable level, "MEIRA!"

The stone of the demon's illusion began cracking beyond the barrier I was held in. The cell around Meira fractured like glass. A monstrous beast—a dragon—of shadow tore through it and roared.

The demon stumbled back, "What is this, Fadewalker?"

The Fade image shattered completely as Meira rose. But it wasn't her. That dragon entered her, shadows bursting out, and slamming the demon to the floor. They picked the creature up and threw it into the barrier holding me, the magic cracking at the force.
The shadows curled off her like smoke, silver eyes burning as they stared down the demon. The creature hissed as it stood. Wings of night unfurled from her back as dual swords of black flame solidified in her hands. Her mouth opened, but when she spoke, it was with the voice of two. Her true voice and one of such cold hate, the temperature within the Fade seemed to fall.

"I will make you wish you had never been born," she promised, "Make you wish you had never crawled out from your hole."

The demon snarled, "This is my domain. They are my prey."

Shame lunged forward. The shadows struck faster than a snake as they grabbed the demon. Wrapping around its wrists, ankles and throat, they slammed Shame against the magical barrier, cracking it more. The fiend shrieked, its illusionary form peeling away to reveal its true self.
A lanky body with multiple arms. Its hands covered its face, chest and carnal flesh. At Meira's attack, the hands covering its face snapped away. Features of such horrifying hideousness were revealed, that I had to look away.
The shadows tightened, burning into its mottled flesh. The creature flailed desperately as it choked. The silver eyes in Meira's shadow stared hatefully at the demon, willing death upon it.
Shame shrieked and Shades erupted from the darkness surrounding us, overwhelming Meira. The number of them beyond counting. She attacked, her power dizzying; but in so doing, she released Shame and it disappeared.
Mercilessly, Meira tore through the Shades. The lesser demons howling as they burned away upon her shadow blades. Shades dead all around, she stood just beyond the barrier, heaving in breaths, every inch of her thick with shadows coiling off.

"Meira?" I called, my voice still weak.

She stiffened and slowly turned, ice shooting out from her feet and encasing the barrier around me. Silver eyes met mine and turned black, shadow flames erupting all around.
"You did this," the cold voice spit, "You brought her to harm yet again. You created that monster and it tormented her. Over and over you have hurt her and brought her only despair." Swords formed in her hands again. "I will do what she is too weak to."
She launched herself at the barrier, erratically swinging her blades at it. Maddened howls tore from her as she swung again and again, but the ice kept growing thicker and thicker.
"Stop it!" She shouted, though it was not at me. "Stop it!"

I tried to get closer to her, but the chains held me back. "Meira," She snarled at me. I met her eyes.
"You have every right to hate me. To wish me dead. You and so many others. What I did…the man I became…does not deserve your forgiveness. Or love." I lowered my head.
"You deserve far better than I." I looked at the chains holding me. They were made of lyrium, glowing that same blue.
"I am weak. I am a coward. I am no knight."

The banging of Meira's blades stopped. I looked up to find her frozen mid-swing.

"So, this is the great templar that she is so devoted to?" A voice sneered—my voice, yet not. "Her brave knight? Her proud lion? Cowed by a demon?"
The owner of the voice came to stand before me. Purpose crouched down to my level, his gold eyes full of contempt, his perfect face a mockery of my own.
"What a pathetic excuse for a templar. No wonder you left."

I huffed out a breath, Shame's power still heavy, but lessening with it gone. I growled and bared my teeth at him.

He smirked. "So, that's it then?" He cocked his head. "You did nothing while your love was in the clutches of a demon, forced to relive her worst moments until her shadow took over.
"Now, she's gotten Shame to run and hide, giving you an opening and you…what? Give up? Tuck tail and roll over?"

"Is she not right? Did I not bring this upon her?" I panted as my head slumped. "I do not deserve her. I do deserve death. For everything."

Purpose chortled. "You mortals really are dense." His hand fisted in my hair, roughly pulling me up to look at him. "If you are so unworthy, so undeserving, then tell me why she is fighting so desperately to save you?"

I kept panting for breath. "What do you mean?"

"The ice, you stubborn idiot," Purpose scoffed as he gestured to the ice creeping up the barrier, indicating that Meira had thickened it to protect me. "My being here. That is Meira. Not the thing trying to kill you."

"But…" I breathed in disbelief.

He got in my face, his gold eyes burning with rage. "Get up."

"I can't," I huffed, "I have no lyrium, no way to—"

He punched me in the face. "Get. Up."

I spit upon the ground before meeting his eyes again. "I can't! Without lyrium I am nothing against a demon."

He snarled, his face holding the same fierceness as my own. "Do you honestly think that lyrium is the beginning and end of your power? Your strength? No, you obstinate oaf! It was not lyrium that gave you the drive to become a templar; to protect and serve the innocent; to defend the mages.
"It was not lyrium that made you fall in love with her. It was not lyrium that gave you the strength to resist Desire. That gave you the courage to stand up to Meredith. That granted you the humility to walk away from the Order and join the Inquisition." He wrenched himself away.
"You stupid fool! Lyrium is a tool. No different than any other weapon. No matter its properties, lyrium would no more imbue a coward with true bravery than putting a sword in his hand. No more grant righteousness than any belief.
"If that were true, there would be no templars willing to commit the atrocities that Alrik did. That Meredith did. That youallowed. Lyrium merely amplifies that which lies within—whatever that may be."

"What are you saying?"

"Every mortal, no matter your complexity, reflects a single virtue or iniquity above all others," Purpose turned back to me, "And that spirit is what drives you. Shapes you. Bleeds into everything you are and everything you do.
"Yours is what led you to become a templar. And when you became a templar, the lyrium that sundered and reknit you only emboldened it." He looked to Meira, his face enigmatic.
"But you mortals are capable of true change. You can lose your way, you can break and be made to embody something else," He turned back to me, hatred on his face, "but, then you can heal. You can change back. Become better. Become new. We are not capable of such on our own."

"So, what am I to do?"

"The female we love suffers yet again because you continue to believe yourself unworthy of forgiveness. Of love. Of her," he spit, his form flickering, something akin to a desire demon trying to break through. He fell to his hands and knees.
"I cannot help her, but you can. This is your mind. She loves you." His gold eyes met mine and I understood.
"She is fighting with all she has left. If you do not save her, she will be lost to you forever." He stopped flickering as I nodded.
"Will you fail her again? Make her fight again? Let her suffer for your mistakes again?"

I ground my teeth, "No."

"Then get up," Purpose growled as he stood, "and slaughter that demon."

"Meddlesome spirit!" Shame bellowed as it reappeared, charging Purpose, "I will teach you to interfere!"

Purpose disappeared with a smirk before Shame could do anything to him. The demon turned back to me, but the ice melted away, Meira's sword striking the prison and cracking it more. Meira's shadow panted for breath, her sword dipping as the silver eyes shone once more.
With a taunting laugh, Shame became Meira, but as she had been when I found her in that cell. The shadows ripped away, Meira—her mortal form—froze in the face of the demon. Shame grabbed her by the throat, she screaming in agony, as it tackled her to the ground.

"How do you fight me?" Shame screamed at her, "What gives you the gall?" It became Alrik. "Monster!" It became me. "Abomination!" It became her as she was in the cell. "Broken wretch!"

I closed my eyes. No matter what Purpose said, I was unworthy. Of Meira. Of everything.
How could I trust myself? Trust that I would not make the same mistakes again? What if what—if who—I was wasn't good and never would be? If I had been so broken in this cage, at Uldred's and Desire's hands, there was no healing? And because of all I had wrought in the aftermath, I deserved nothing but to pay for my sins?

"I know you told me to stay away, but she didn't," Cole's voice spoke from beyond the Fade, "She needs help. But I can't. You can. Uldred marked you, but didn't make you. You stayed you."

I remembered Uldred cutting into me, his eyes empty of anything human, before cutting into his own palm. Through the blood, he entered my mind and rifled through my memories, tainting everything. Planting the seed of fear and bitter hatred until it grew to wreak havoc upon all those around me.

"You're listening to the memory, not the words," Cole pleaded, "They didn't hang you there, you can walk away."

But they should have. I should have been strung up right there in the courtyard; Meredith's remains the last thing my eyes would look upon before I met my Maker. To ensure I knew how miserably I had failed in my duty. Hands no less covered in blood than all the other guilty templars.
For I had willfully unleashed my vengeful wrath upon those I had sworn to protect. That fear had sunk deep—had grown into bitter hatred—the roots of it twisting and gnarling my soul. Who I had once been, what I had once believed, befouled.
And there was no escaping it. No leaving that life, that man, behind. Lyrium had sundered me. Blood magic and demons had tainted me. Fear had corrupted me. Wrath had consumed me. How can you be the same person after that?

"The center never changed, kept safe like a coin in your pocket," Cole tried once more, his voice desperate.

I felt the ghost of a hand upon my face, the song of Meira's mana flowing through it.
"What of faith, Cullen? What of hope?" Meira spoke, her voice weak, no more than a whisper, "Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing He has wrought shall be lost."

At her touch, at her words, a gentle warmth flowed through me as she helped me recall every moment that I had held Bran's coin. When he had given it to me and I had clutched it in my palm when I bid my family farewell. As I had slipped it into my pocket after donning my templar armor for the first time.
Feeling it heavy in my pocket as I had stood between Meredith and the mages. The weight impossibly heavy as I tried to right my wrongs in The Gallows. It ever present as I had sailed away from Kirkwall.
Flipping it over in my pocket as I had decided to stop taking lyrium. The metal cool against my skin as I worked it through my fingers when I had first entered Haven's Chantry. Turning it over and over as I thought of Meira trapped in her Tranquil state, each time praying for a miracle. Becoming a habit as withdrawal grew worse.
The scar in my palm aching as I recalled gripping it so hard that it cut into my skin. Remembering how I had sworn never to fail Meira again, had sworn to strive towards worthiness of all I was called to: Andrastian. Commander. Advisor. Friend. Brother. Protector. Lover.
 As I swore that I would never give up. That I would persevere. That I would weather the storm, until I found the man the Maker had called to be a part of the Inquisition. Until, I found my own purpose again.
It was why I had endured. Why I had thrown that box of lyrium. Why I had resisted over and over again. I wanted to be the man the Maker called me to be; the man Meira saw in me.
Brave knight. Proud lion. Servant and protector.
The center never changed.

"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light," Meira whispered, her voice even weaker, "I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder."

'The center never changed'. 'You stayed you'. Nothing He has wrought shall be lost. No one can tear asunder.

"They may have broken us, my love," Meira murmured, her hand slipping away, "But we can be made new. We have to accept what happened. Who we became. We have to accept, so we can let go and move on."

Accept.

"We have to accept so we can look to the future. To hope that one day, life will be worthwhile again. We have to endure until the day that all we hope for is realized. So that, in the end, the fight will be worth it. That we will be who we were meant to be."

Endure.

Shame was shrieking, cursing at Meira. 'I am Shame. Only pride or indifference can amend me'. But that was not the truth—not the whole truth. Pride or indifference would not remedy our shame, no.
But to have compassion upon our past selves that were broken at the hands of others? Were I to resolve to be a better man? Were we to never give up? To continue to persevere? To hope? To keep fighting, no matter our hurts, no matter our failures, towards our own purposes?
Was that not also how to overcome shame? To strive for a new purpose? To hope that one day we would be better?
Are not purpose and hope intertwined? For there is no purpose without hope and there is no hope without purpose.
Eyes still closed, I reached out. Not for the ancient song of lyrium, but for the one beneath it. The one Meira had drawn out.
The one that had helped me endure Desire. Gave me the courage to stand up to Meredith. To answer the call to join the Inquisition.
For lyrium was no more than a tool. And it would not define me. It would not control me.
Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.
 Focusing, I reached out a hand. Stretching until I felt the hilt of a sword in my palm. It hummed with power as I gripped it with all my might.
I rose, feeling as I knit back together, the demon's hold breaking. The chains holding me down shattered and fell away. Opening my eyes, I unsheathed a sword made of blazing white light. A shield of the same make upon my other arm.
That fervor to protect surging through me as I beheld the female I loved facing her nightmare. It had broken her again. This demon had wielded her shame against her just as Desire and the blood mages had done to me. It had corrupted my purpose. Just as hers had corrupted her hope.
I had failed her before. But this time—this time I would protect her. I would save her.
Staring the demon down, gripping the blade tight, raising my shield, I bellowed a roar of defiance. The sound embodying my resolve and my hope, I threw myself at that magical cage. Punching my shield at it, the cage shattered. The demon had turned, its true form revealed once more. The hands covering its face snapped open, but this time, I could meet what lay beneath.
Another roar tearing from my chest, I bashed away its clawed hands with my shield and thrust my blade into its gut all the way to the hilt. The demon howled in pain as I wrenched the sword up. Writhing upon the blade, black blood spurting out, it glared at me with hate-filled eyes.

"This is not over, loathsome mortal," it seethed, "I will not be slain."

Using its extra hands, it peeled itself off the blade and disappeared. I turned to Meira where she lay upon the floor. She had shrouded herself once more in shadows.
I severed the chains holding her with my blade before sheathing my weapons. Kneeling down to her, plunging my hands into her shadows, I scooped her into my arms. I cradled her against my heart, believing there could be nothing more precious to me in the world. As I cupped the back of her head, her hands fisted into my shirt as she buried her face in my chest.

"Forgive me, Meira," I murmured.

"There is nothing to forgive, my lion," she breathed, her voice shaky, "I knew you would save me, my knight."

My grip tightened around her. "I am no knight, my darling," I whispered, voice thick, "But for you, I'll try."

"I know you will, Cullen," she murmured, "But I…am I too broken? Too scarred?"

What she saw in me, she still struggled to see in herself. How could I get her to see? "Did you not say that you earned your scars? That they are proof that you live? That you won in the end?"

Those shadows ebbed a little as she hesitantly nodded. "I…I did."

"As did I," I admitted more to myself than to her, letting out a breath, "I earned mine as well. I endured. I live. We may not have won our battles, Meira."
I pulled away from her, lifting her face to mine. She kept her eyes closed. I wiped away the silver tears upon her cheeks with my thumbs.
"But we can win our wars." I took her hand and gently stood her up. "Come, beloved. For too long, the tides of this world have been ever pulling us apart. Pulling us under, into the dark. It is time we see the dawn again."

She let out a sob, more tears spilling over her cheeks. Liquid starlight against the black of night. "I would like that."

I pulled her to me, cupping her face in my hands, and those shadows peeled back just a little more. Tiny constellations daring to shine through. For what else could she be, but starlight?
The light that dared to shine amidst impenetrable blackness? That defied all odds? That stared darkness in the face and snarled at it?
No matter her words, she could not be broken. She would rise again and again, bidding others to have the courage to do the same. To bid me to have the courage to do the same.
I kissed her, deeply. "I see you, Meira, scars and all, and I could not love you more."
'This is your mind. She loves you'. Unsure of what I was doing, but trusting that I understood what Purpose was trying to tell me, I pulled my mind to every memory that had made me love her. Both past and present.
In the tower as I had been overwhelmed by her beauty when I saw her for the first time. Becoming enamored with her quiet strength, gentleness and compassion that flowed from her. Watching in fascination as she treated everyone with kindness. Smiling to myself as I heard her mirthful laugh with Solana and Jowan.
The way my heart had skipped a beat at the blush on her face and sparkle of mischief in her eyes when she looked at me the first time we had spoken. The nervous excitement at her delicate hand in mine as I had helped her off the chair. Straining to listen as she had sung the Chant so beautifully.
The admiration I had held as she fearlessly faced her Harrowing. The pride and excitement I had felt for her as she became a full-fledged mage. The infatuation that had grown as her walls had fallen away the more we had gotten to know each other. The purpose I had felt when she promised to become First Enchanter if I became Knight-Commander.
The love in her eyes as she had tried to reach me after Uldred. The flicker of hope amidst the despair that had been in her gaze when I found her in that cell. The way she had let me carry her, the trust that had seeped through as she had clung to me. The strength in her grip as she had held my hand after all I had allowed to happen to her because I had been too blinded by anger.
The way her eyes had studied me when she had been Tranquil, daring me to hope that somewhere, somehow, she remembered—she knew. As she had awakened with a smile and a jest as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed between us. The way she had stepped into the Inquisition, shouldering each of her responsibilities as if she were born to it.
How she fought back the shadows clinging to her, the chains threatening to break her beneath their weight. How time and again she chose to forgive. Chose to love. Chose to cling to her faith. To cling to hope.

Her knees went weak as I painted this picture of her, but I held her up. Her lip quivered as she hesitantly asked, "And my magic? Do you not fear it? Am I…a monster?" That dragon appeared behind her, towering above us, shadowy wings spread wide, its burning silver eyes staring down at me.

I kissed her cheek. "Your magic is a gift, given by the Maker." I kissed her other cheek. "It is you who decides how it is wielded. Not the other way around. Forgive me for ever believing anything different. Though there can be danger, that is the exception, not the rule." I kissed her lips. "For your gift was given for this very moment. To save me. And you will use it to save so many more."

Pulling her again to my memories, I showed her the wonder I held at her. At her magic. When she had displayed it for the little ones, it full of hope and joy, as she formed her ice into animals that danced and played. Their merry laughter as it echoed off the stones. As she had taught the children that magic did not have to be frightful.
How she had come to wield it with confidence. How she had graciously laughed whenever we'd dumped water over her when she had caught on fire. Her heavy blush after Solana had roused her fierceness and she'd burned away everything. How she had fought against Uldred's acolytes and protected us as she had fought at our side.
The gentle warmth of her magic as it had healed me on the mountaintop. The way I marveled at her magic as it twined through her fingers. Her soothing touch when she had walked my dreams in the Hinterlands, reaching out to comfort me as she saw me in that cage within my memories.
When she had summoned her ice weapons for the first time. How my breath had caught at the frost dancing off of her, clinging to her eyelashes and nose when we had sparred at the farms. How I had watched in awe as she unleashed it all upon that boulder.
And now, as she had entered my mind, tenderly wiping away the taint in my memories. As she had helped call me back to the man I wanted to be. Her love for me pouring over my fractured soul like her healing magic.
I watched as that dragon that was her magic melted away to reveal a moon-white halla with great, curling silver horns and starlight eyes. Light captured. Hope embodied. Her gentle soul.
Those eyes met mine a moment before closing, the halla dissipating. The shadows clinging to her fell away entirely, revealing how she was made of starlight and I found her breathtaking. She blinked her eyes open, shining silver as they met my gaze, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Her hands came to my face and I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch. "I did not save you, Cullen. I helped you remember who you are. Who you want to be. Who you are meant to be." She held me to her. "The Maker made you. The Maker called you. The Maker guided you. Just as He did me. You chose to answer. You saved yourself."

Twining my fingers in her starlight hair, cupping the back of her head, I brought her lips to mine. Kissing her with as much passion as I dared, knowing my mind was betraying how much I wanted her. Needed her. Pulling away, caressing her nose with my own, I breathed, "Maker, do I love you."

"And I you."

Roars sounded then. Shades erupting all around us. Meira turned, pressing her back to mine. Her fingers lacing through my own. "Let us finish this."

"Together," I nodded.

Brandishing my weapons as she summoned hers, her mortal form returning, back to back, we fought the Shades. Daring injury, it was hard to stay focused on the demons before me as Meira's mana poured forth. Her magic was truly beyond anything I had ever before witnessed.
For the first time in years, I truly felt wonder at magic instead of fear. The way she shaped the Fade, the way magic danced upon her fingertips, her fluid movements with her weapons of devastating destruction as they tore through our enemy.
Shame reappeared, crazed shrieking as it promised to kill us both. I roared at it, blade and shield in hand as I rushed it. Meira came to stand between us, putting a hand up.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, the demon nearly upon us.

"What I am meant to do," she breathed.

The creature lunged at her, fingers elongating to claws. Meira jumped over Shame as it attacked, only to twist in the air and touch it with her fingertips. As she did, they both froze a moment, before she landed upon her feet.
From where she landed, the lake of my childhood flowed forth, wiping away the demon's prison. We stood upon the dock, the water lapping against the shore sounding in my ears. A sense of homesickness rising in my chest.
The demon burned away. Before me, eyes gentle, stood a spirit. It reminded me of my mother, though it looked nothing like her, and I felt a bittersweetness at it.

The spirit turned to Meira and dipped its head. "Such…compassion, I did not expect. I am Embrace."

"What will you do now?" Meira asked it.

"Aid you, if you would have me," it offered, "You understand that you cannot forget or run away from that which you endured. For it is what helped shape you. Instead, I can help you accept it. Embrace it. And use it." Meira nodded.
"Good. When you are ready, Fadewalker, I will be there." The spirit disappeared and with it, a heavy weight lifted off of my shoulders.

Meira turned to me, her eyes averted, clearly nervous. "Hello."

"Hello, my darling," I murmured.

Her hands were before her, clasped together, as she nervously played with her fingers. "This was…not how I wanted to be reunited."

"Nor I," I snorted, rubbing the back of my neck.

"You're…handling this surprisingly well," she stated, a ghost of a smile upon her lips.

I chuckled. "That is probably because I'll forget it all when I wake up. It will be no more than a dream."

Her eyes met mine. My smile faltered as I realized they were no longer jade, but a bright, shining silver. They had gone wide at my words, sorrow on her face. "Is that…will that be true?"

"I…I am afraid so, beloved," I murmured, realizing this was hitting her hard, "I am not a mage. I do not remember what occurs within the Fade when I dream. But…I—I suppose that I may remember because of your magic."

"I pray that is so," she breathed, looking away again, a blush blooming into her cheeks.

I stepped closer to her, she keeping her eyes fixed away from me. I took her chin between my fingers. Her eyes slowly met my own. Sliding my hand to cup her cheek, I murmured, "They are beautiful, beloved. Like starlight." She smiled gently at me, relief on her face. "Is it over now?"

Her hands grasped my forearm, holding my hand to her skin as she leaned into my palm. "For you. You'll still have nightmares, I fear, as I cannot take those away without taking your memories away."

"Why not for you?" I questioned, brow furrowing.

Her face turned sorrowful as she looked away again. "It is…time I accept my own nightmares. But…not yet."

"Why?"

"The armor," she began, summoning armor upon herself that was awesome and terrible to look upon. She wore it a moment before it disappeared.
"It was what awaited me in the temple. I am not sure I can wield it without her. And I…I feel I will need it for whatever is coming. For whatever we will face in our fight against Corypheus." Her fingers flinched against my skin.
"She is…locked away again. But I think…I think there may be a way to wield the armor without her. But until I know for sure, I must allow her to remain."

She kept her eyes averted once more, worried what I would think. I ran a thumb along her cheek. "I am not going anywhere, Meira." She met my gaze. I chuckled before giving her a broad smile. "Though, if you don't mind, I think I'll rest a bit now."

She laughed. "I daresay you've earned it, my lion."

Pulling her to me, hands on her cheeks as I caressed her nose with my own. "Wether I remember or not," I pressed my lips to hers, "know that I am eternally grateful."

I felt her smile. "You can thank me when you wake up."

"I will, beloved. My darling, beautiful, Meira. My heart." I kissed her gently. "I love you."

"And I love you, Cullen," her lips brushed mine, "Always."

Thank you for reading! Faves, follows and reviews are always welcome and appreciated!