#athell surana

“Alright.” Athell sat up with a soft chuckle, turning her head towards Anneliese as light strands filtered through the warrior queen’s fingers. “What is it that you’re dragging me into?”

Anneliese had paused for a moment, brushing some hair away from Athell’s eyes in thought. There was a flicker in those green eyes, something that Athell couldn’t pin down for the life of her. 

“Athell…” Anneliese’s hand found the back of Athell’s neck, firm and steady to hold her in place. “I don’t want to drag you into anything… I would prefer to hold your hand and walk with you for a change.”

Athell’s brows slightly furrowed, eyes blinking as she searched for answers in Anneliese’s gaze. 

“That’s not what I meant—”

It was sudden, Anneliese’s fingers tightening in Athell’s hair as she was silenced with the crashing of their lips.

All the breath in Athell’s lungs had been stolen, her eyes closing to keep the room from spinning. 

Athell made an attempt to pull away, shaking her head as she could barely think straight. “Anneliese…”

“Don’t.” The word came out soft, softer than anything that Athell had heard before, “Don’t run from me now…”

Athell blinked again, a sharp pain prickling its way to her heart. She had been so focused on her own feelings, on her own circumstances, that she hadn’t considered just how hard it must’ve been for anyone else… Especially for Anneliese.

“I won’t.” Athell promised, reaching out and cupping Anneliese’s cheek. “I wouldn’t dare run from you.”

Athell leaned in, kissing Anneliese back just to prove it. Soft, unbelievably so in comparison to the rest of her. 

This… It had been the feeling Athell had spent years wondering what it was like. To be the one Anneliese had loved, even for a stolen moment.

Athell was pulled closer, trying not to fall clumsily into Anneliese’s lap. 

It felt real, the war was finally over and she could finally live…

She might have only given herself away wearing her Warden robes, a griffon clasped  her cloak close as she slipped through the crowd. The Herald’s soldiers made a berth for her, hoping the crowd would disperse enough to let her through. 

“Grey Warden.” Josephine Montilyet greeted her before the main hall of the keep. “Welcome to Skyhold.”

“I understand that there’s been word on where the rest of my order may be.” Athell nodded, removing the hood from over her head. 

“You would be correct.” Leliana emerged from the shadows, falling into step with them as they made their way through the hall. “It is rumored that they are west, in Adamant Fortress.” 

Athell looked to Leliana, who had changed much since she had seen the bard last. Taking a long look at her friend, nostalgia brimming at the surface as flashes of loud singing around a campfire echoed in her mind. For a moment, it pulled through her vision, dragging her back to when the only thing that would separate them was the Blight and an Archdemon. Back to a time where the lulling song wasn’t so loud, milling around her memories to lure her home.

“How is it?” Leliana’s voice pulled Athell back to the stone grandeur of Skyhold, chill returning to the air. 

“It is tame, for now.” Athell nodded, her hand tightening around her staff as they continued through a side room. The false Calling was easier to ignore once she crossed into the Frostback Mountains, but beforehand…

Leliana, expression grim as her eyes examined Athell, gave a slight tilt of her head. There was the same concern in her eyes as Anneliese had when Athell left, the same that had been in Hawke’s, in Zevran’s. Concern that began to pull the gravity of their current world-ending situation to a fine point.

“Let’s hope this Calling ends swiftly with our next battle.”

Athell chuckled softly, “We shall see.” 

From what she gathered, Corypheus was in search of godhood. With the aid of what looked like a blighted dragon no less. 

“And here I thought being a legend was hard.” Athell mulled over the map, looking at the markers on the table as her fingers lingered around Dragon’s Peak. “Lonely sort of ambition… To want to be a god.”

Godhood, a notion that felled many a legend before their time. The Tevinter magisters had attempted it once, creating the Blight that haunts the land, and one has returned to do it yet again. 

Foolish, Athell thought as her eyes flicked from Dragon’s Peak to Adamant. It seemed she was getting further and further away from home, missing the quiet she once had before getting involved in such a mess. 

“You should rest before we part.” Leliana leaned, trying to catch Athell’s attention. Or at least, that is what Athell had assumed.