they all go into the dark; ALL

[leliana]

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

It is chaos around her.

There are screams and cries and she can feel the wounds opening up from the battering, but she can only think of Rhonen in the center of it all, assaulted from all sides. She cries out, unable to keep herself from it, tears of frustration and fear beginning to slip down her cheeks. She feels the other winged healer arrive and although she doesn’t break her concentration from Rhonen, trailing through the wounds on his body with her gift, trying to keep up with the attacks as they overwhelm him, as they begin to overwhelm her.

“Thank you,” she breathes to Cress, accepting her words for the sage advice that it is and tucking it away. But it doesn’t matter. None of her good intentions matter. Because although there are those who show up to protect him, to fight for what is right, there are too many who come with opposite intentions.

She can feel their attacks reverberating through her, and she grits her teeth, refusing to acknowledge the exhaustion she feels on the edges of her mind. In many ways, this is a welcome relief—this physical pain, this distraction. It eases the agony that eats at the end of her mind. It diverts the pain that so constantly chases her these days. She doesn’t have to think about Dovev or Vulgaris or her many failings.

She doesn’t have to think about the endless stretch of days, alone.

Instead, she pours herself into the task of hand, ultimately not heeding Cress’ advice to save her strength.

When the stallion, burning alive, turns on her, she has to wonder if she should have. He barrels toward them, but she remains rooted to the spot, her hazel eyes focusing on what parts of Rhonen she can see. Her golden light waivers when he collides and then fails completely, snapping and recoiling into her chest. And then it is just the fire; just the flame. She feels the edges of it but it is numbed by the adrenaline that races in her. She feels his teeth snap, the way his hooves beat into her body, but that too is dulled.

The skin on her shoulder singes, the fur burning. There is a gash in her chest where the skin splits apart beneath his attacks, the blood beginning to flow down to stain her legs. There is more wounds on her face, her neck—both laceration and burn alike. It would be worse, could have been so much worse, had it not been for the one she absolutely could not bear to see. Not now. Not in this nightmare.

“Dovev!” she cries out as he collides with the other stallion, watching as he takes the brunt of the attack. It’s enough, enough of a moment for her to gather her gift. Weakened but strengthened by the sudden onslaught of adrenaline, she lets it well inside her once more and pushes all of it to the black and bone stallion. She forgets about Rhonen. Forgets about everything except the sight of Dovev with the flames surrounding him. She does everything she can to apply an immediate balm to his wounds, chasing away the pain, minimizing the damage to the best of her abilities. It nearly wipes her out and she sways but she straightens when he circles back around, chin lifting stubbornly when he barks an order at her.

“No,” she replies through clenched teeth, wanting to reach for him, wanting to make sure he was fine, but her attention is caught by the battle once more and she turns back toward it, hoping that Cress is okay, hoping that she is here and still able to help. Taking a shaking breath, Leliana begins to move forward, ignoring her own wounds that still weep openly, the singed flesh. “Get out of my way, Dovev,” she says evenly, moving past him to take her position against the tree once more, leaning a little more heavily.

She can’t stop to think about how she feared for his life.

She can’t stop to think about anything.

Closing her eyes, she digs past the exhaustion, ignoring the signs that she is overexerting herself once more. With a soft cry, she pulls at her gift, apologizing to it, and then sends it shooting toward the chestnut stallion once more, fearful of the damage that had been caused while she had been distracted.

It is a losing battle, but she has to try.

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

idk if we're supposed to reply more than once but here i am. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯