so long, my luckless romance; any

[leliana]

I waited for something and something died
so I waited for nothing and nothing arrived

The answer is like a dagger to the belly and she grits her teeth against it, steels her spine. She had known this truth, she reminds herself, even as she quakes; this is nothing new to her. Her eyes don’t leave the mare’s because for all of her kindness, for all of her naive beliefs about the goodness in people, she is not weak. Perhaps she is not the same strength as Heartfire—perhaps her strength is not in the sharpness of her tongue or in the protective guard around her heart, but it does not make her weak.

She would not fall before this.

“I see,” is all she says at first, her voice still steady, belying the pain she feels running like a river beneath her skin. Is it not enough that she already lose him once? Must she lose him again and again for it to truly count? Must she experience this gut-wrenching pain eternally, each time with a new face? Still, she will mourn later, she will cry alone. She does not react, just takes a deep breath, readying herself to respond—

When he arrives.

And her world goes black. She swallows again and one leg goes out to steady her, confusion clawing at her chest. He does not look at her, does not even acknowledge her. He just rushes past her to press up against Heartfire and she feels only the cool air that ripples across her side from his motion. This—this is so much worse than her imagination and she feels her throat closing up, her heart shattering in her breast.

(Again, and again, and again—always pain, always loss with him.)

Her brow furrows and then she wipes it clean, turning her cheek from them. This is not her scene to watch; this is not her place to intrude. Part of her, some distant part, wants to shout, to scream, to ask why she was never enough—to demand answers. But the other part of her is defeated and tired, so tired. She cannot watch this, every part of her tells her this. She cannot survive it.

So she simply turns and begins to walk away, but not before her healing reaches out and runs like water through his body, easing the bruises and closing up the flesh that splinters open. Because despite the fact that she is burning with anguish, despite the fact that she should loathe him for this pain, she cannot stop the fact that she loves him. She has whispered it to Heartfire, she’d confessed it to him on the Mountain.

He does not cherish her love, but she cannot stop herself from giving it.

it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend
it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end