The Friend blew out a soft breath and hurried over to her, unclasping her cloak with quick, deft fingers and whipping it away, glancing over her before hanging the cloak by the fire to dry. Too tired to pretend she was a strong leader anymore. She needed to be strong, brave, spine straight and smile in place so people could look up to her. Please.” Bull whispered heavily, his worry and concern bleeding into his voice.
The Friend’s eyes flicked from the offerings to Bull and then to her in confusion. A shining pair of scissors and shears were laid out alongside bars of scented soaps, and then sacks of sugar and flour and a heavy coin purse. Half a dozen healing potions were lined up and then little packets of seeds. Bull directed her to stand by the fire, and Lavellan did, watching vaguely as he set the bag he had slung over his shoulder onto the table and began extracting the contents. They stomped their feet to shake off the worst of the snow clinging to them before pulling them off inside the door so they wouldn’t track water and mud across the floor. They blinked up at Bull and then looked over them both with concern before stepping aside and motioning for them to come in. There was a shuffle of movement within and then the door opened to reveal the Friend.
He tugged, gently, always so gentle unless she needed him not to be, on her remaining hand, tugged her towards the house, and knocked on the door frame with scarred knuckles. She knew why he had brought her here: he had brought her to ask them for help. Had thrown her favorite mug at the wall and then sobbed over the broken shards, broken and scattered like her makeshift clan, like her heart. Had been motionless and weeping for too long. There was light from the house, a flickering warmth through the window.īull had brought her to the Friend. The chickens huddled near the sheep, which in turn huddled against the sheltered side of the barn. The fields were flat and white, the garden covered in canvas. The clearing looked different in the winter, but she still recognized it the moment her eyes landed on it with a numb sort of relief. The path seemed familiar, but he didn’t want to speak, so she simply walked beside him and waited to see where he was taking her. She tucked her own gloved fingers into his and walked beside him with only the sound of frozen leaves crackling beneath their feet and their huffs for air. He grunted and held out a hand, for once wrapped in a glove. There was an accusing edge to them that she hadn’t meant.
“You’re limping.” The words were too loud and harsh in the frigid air. She noticed that before she noticed that her ears had gone numb. Her breath froze before her and ice formed on the scarf wrapped around her face as they trudged through the bare trees. It hurt worse than the ghost pains in the arm he had taken from her. Solas, once her friend, was now someone she had to fight. She trusted him, and she was too weary in spirit to care beyond that. They left their mounts at a village and Lavellan followed Bull without question. She had no clan to return to, but Bull was still here, riding beside her. Tired and heartsore and angry.īull was taking her somewhere. Her eyes were fixed on the tips of its antlers and her mind was wrapped in numbing cobwebs. Lavellan rode her hart without thought, the motions needed to stay on its back long written into her muscles.