It was Leliana’s face before him, soft and hazy in that familiar way. How many times had he seen her this way? Delirious from lack of sleep, his bloodshot eyes would conjure her, the very reason he couldn’t sleep anymore. Or had been the reason. How long ago..? Could remember clearly the two women he’d fought, needed the fight, killed them. Had finally been able to slip into that wonderful black of unconsciousness in a pool of their blood. Finally found rest. Fought a bear, too. Could remember so clearly. And as always she’d been there. Really there.
Wasn’t here now, though. Never here anymore. His fault, as always. Couldn’t touch a damn thing without it breaking. Always grasping so tightly, too tightly, to what he wanted. Clutch til it shattered in his fist.
Her face changed, her head of crimson hair turning dark as he watched with a blank expression. The rise and fall of his chest felt heavy, slower, and his black eyes stared back as she looked down on him - down, he was on the ground. Oh, but he knew that face too. His lips twitched, and his breath of a silent laugh rippled across the blanket of blood he rest in, plenty cold by now and pushing shivers through his body. Of all people to show in this strange dream.
”My Dagger,” he thought he might have said, barely a whisper as he smiled through the blood in his teeth. His eyes focused on her as he became more lucid, blinking up and waiting for her to disappear like the others. Still there, though, and he tried shifting with a grunt, his muscles aching and burning. His skin was mangled and raw, torn in the usual places, shredded in new ones where bone had pierced through at her command. Violence.
So, she’d finally gotten bored of him.
Had her fun first, though.
And he woke from the haze a little more.
His head fell back down with a soft squelch, the drenched grasses beneath his face slowly soaking in the pool of his blood. He sighed, not even meaning to, the weight of his armor pressing down on him, shoved uncomfortably beneath him too. Forming thoughts was still a struggle, trying to catch up to where he was and what had been happening to him and for how long. And what had been happening before. Needed that information before he could think of where he was supposed to be next.
His black eyes slid to her again from behind the mask of bone over his face. Still there. Why was she here? But he only stared, still trying to process.
You've only got 10 more paces to live
Enjoy your last moments. They're my gift to give
