#mage!lavellan

Bull will be jealous! Come on!

If Shae closed her eyes, and wished as hard as she could, just maybe she’d find herself back where she made that memory. With laughter at the back of her throat when she nearly dragged Blackwall, Solas and Varric to the nesting point of that dragon in the Hinterlands. She had only wanted to get a better glimpse of it, to see if it was like all the stories and songs she knew, but when she heard that roar… something in her blood almost sang. It had been a grand dance, leaving her breathless and giddy, despite the peril of facing off against such a creature.

That felt like a lifetime ago though, and she doubted even the Iron Bull would be envious of her predicament now. Shae stared at the solid doors of the chantry as the village of Haven burned just outside, the stench of the fires seeping through the narrow cracks. How long had it taken - for all their efforts to be dashed? Seconds? Minutes, at the most? It didn’t matter how long, with a single heartbeat, a single breath, all their fates shifted. A soft sound of disgust escaped her throat as she kept herself from laughing in spite. How was this any different from when the conclave exploded? When she awoke to find the cursed magic bestowed upon her hand, her soul?

Even now, the mark on her hand swirled with its violent viridian energy. It was hypnotic in its own way, and she tried to shift her attention to it in an effort to forget the foul beast, that corrupted dragon. To forget the templars that brought it and the nagging voice in the back of her mind that reminded her that her grandfather had been right. But it didn’t matter how much she tried, or wished. She was stuck here. They all were. She couldn’t even muster the strength to pretend, for anyone’s sake, that their fate wasn’t sealed like those doors.

Still, others around her clung to hope, and it was hard to ignore the whispers around her. More than once, she heard a prayer, someone looking to the Maker for assistance, to guide them, but often, she heard her own name on their lips, that damned title they forced upon her, as if she was going to be their savior. Shae would never begrudge anyone their faith, but the fact that they still looked to her, as this herald for their deity, despite the fact that she still kept to her own gods?

Shaking her head, she clenched her fist, snuffing the green light, as the flicker of rage shot through her. In the face of death, she refused to be stuck with these people, to stay on this ridiculous pedestal that they kept placing her upon. Shae shifted her gaze to the cadre of people gathered around her, the people she fought beside, and the people that adorned her as their Herald . The very people of the Inquisition, and yet, they were not praying as so many of the villagers were. It was nothing but solemn faces all around, as if they accepted this end.

Somehow that only infuriated her more. These were to be the righteous, the ones seeking to change everything after the death of their Divine. How could they simply just accept death like this? To just die in this building, huddled like shem livestock?

No, Shae refused to let this be the way that things ended for her. Even if the only thing she changed was how her life ended tonight. It was, as Cullen so tactfully put it, their say in how things ended. The Commander of the Inquisition forces might have been content to bury himself beneath the snow, to rob the enemy of a killing blow, but Shae was not about to die like that.

Better to die beneath the stars with the fire around her than in a frozen tomb.

Maker preserve him; what was he doing?

With the slightest gesture and smile this woman made him forget, well, everything. And here on the Stormcoast of all places, where the last of his hopes should have died. But as he stood in the rain, the rumble of thunder surrounding him, she came and placed a hand on his arm, asking him to come with her.

Simply because he looked sad.

Of course he was sad. It wasn’t like he had much reason for joy - or that he deserved it. Why was she wasting her time on trying to cheer him up?

Yes, there had been some flirtations, but he wasn’t naive. He had seen how she’d been in the tavern, with the others. There was always a smile, a laugh, an innocent comment for many - not just himself. There was a host of people at her fingertips - all better than him, more suitable than him. He would have sworn that perhaps the mage Solas would have been more to her taste.

So why here? Why now?

She stood just mere feet from him, on the edge of a cliff, with the rain beating down upon her. Her eyes were shut, her face tilted to the sky as water trailed down her face. It was almost mistakable for tears- if not for the serene look upon her face. Her red hair clung to her skin, soaked as it were, but even he could see it - the place called to her, beckoned her - with its storms and winds.

Perhaps it was why her magic manifested itself in the form of a storm most of the time. Yet, despite the turbulent, chaotic nature, he’d never seen someone at such peace before. He envied her for that - even if it was his own doing that caused him to never know such blessings again.

“Blackwall?” Her soft voice cut through his own thoughts, and he realized that he’d been staring, her soft golden eyes sparkling as she gazed at him.

Oh, she was lovely.

He cleared his throat, fighting an urge to run a hand over his own rain-soaked hair. “Yes, Lady Lavellan?”

“Shae.” Another of those smiles of hers touched her face, the ones that he told himself she shared with everyone - and weren’t just for him. “Call me, Shae. Please.”

“Alright, Shae.” It was hard to not return the smile, even when he knew he shouldn’t.

A soft peal of laughter left her lips. “Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t answer as he stood across from her, not quite sure to what she referred. Not that he would ask, or that he thought she would answer. Still, there was a glimmer in her lovely eyes as she closed the distance between them, her hand touching the side of his face. Fingertips trailed along the edge of his cheek, and, his heart nearly stopped at the gesture.

He forced himself to breathe as her hand touched the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up towards the sky. “Now, close your eyes, and just… listen.”

However strange it felt, he did as she asked. Even as he tried to focus on the sound of the wind, the water, even the thunder, all he could sense was her: her soft touch upon his face, her voice whispering in his ear. The only storm he knew was her.