Sisters of Tevinter

Lost

   Too weary to be amazed, Jor smiled ruefully down at the curse set deep in her hand. She resumed her stumbling, painful, shuddering trek down the tunnels. Perhaps these were the catacombs Chancellor Roderick had thought of... 

     She paused to rest, her breath heaving in her lungs as she braced a forearm against the frigid stone wall. The pain was numbed by cold now, it was inching its way towards the hot blood beating in her chest, wanting to claim it. To preserve it in ice and make it its own. Winter's trophy. The path began a cobbled incline, slick with frozen dew. 

      Jor tucked herself close to the wall, taking one step at a time. It was all a haze now. She just needed to go a little farther... a little farther...

       Cold wind kissed her face, drawing moisture from her lips. A dusting of snow crossed the exit of the cave. Jor leaned heavily against its cavernous opening, her gaze falling helplessly over an expanse of empty snow and mountain. Night reigned with crushed black velvet and a sky full of diamonds, the air tasting of bitter clarity. 

        Her eyes were heavy, her legs were lead as she forced herself to step out into the snow, tucking her worn and fluttering scarf around her neck against the wind. Her whole body trembled, exhaustion coaxed her breath to slow. Just... a little... farther... 

        Her boot slipped. Her knees gave out. Her face crunched into the freezing embrace of the snow, smothering her face with frozen kisses, soothing her bones. She had no will left to move. The wind howled, driving snow in beautiful torrents of pearl and silver around her. She closed her eyes... her mind drained... empty... warm... 

         "Caw." The cooing crackle of a sound brought Jor stumbling back towards conciousness. She peeled one freezing eyelid open. A beady yellow eye met hers. "Caw," the raven said, softer this time, pecking at her ear. 

           Andraste's ass... No no, don't let me die in peace, it's fine... I'll just be eaten alive by carrion birds instead. Thank you, Maker. Thank you SO MUCH. Bitterly, Jor closed her eyes again, too tired to cry, to think, to move or complain. Ice felt like a quilt now, drawing her soothingly back to sleep. Darkness swallowed her. 

        Boots. Footsteps crunching through the snow. She was picked up easily, someone was murmuring against her hair. They raised their voice. "She's here!" 

           A raven with a red crest cawed and flew overhead, leading them onward. Someone's breath was steady in her ear, her head tucked against a warm, bare shoulder. Then more shadows. Blessed sleep, dreaming...

          "Jor. Jor~ wake up."

          Jormungandr groaned, pulling the sheets over her head. Light spilled through the thin white cotton to tug at her eyelids. Pale, playful hands pulled at her fragile shield of cloth. The woman they were attached to was giggling. "Baby snake, come on, it's time to get up."

           "Vivi..."

           "Come on, lovely, rise and shine!" The sheets were tugged from her face and Genevieve leaned down to pepper her nose with kisses, her white gold hair falling in a shimmering curtain over Jor's head. "Today's the day."

          "What day?" Jor's voice was low and raspy with sleep as she absently opened her arms. Genevieve, her bright eyes full of laughter and wide awake, slid comfortably into the scholar's grasp, leaning against her chest. She fit so perfectly there. 

           "You know! The day!"

           "Mn." Jor rolled onto her back lazily, hugging the young woman's waist against hers, fingers absently tracing unblemished ivory skin. Genevieve leaned over her, forearms braced against the mattress on either side of her head. 

            "Jorrrrr," she pressed eagerly, beaming. "Come on!" 

           "In a minute," the scholar sighed, leaning up to kiss the girl's perfect button nose. The sunlight spilling through the cabin window turned Genevieve to lines of gold and melted honey. 

            "Wake up." 

             "I am up, fennec," Jor protested sleepily, smiling as her eyes traced the flawless lines of the alchemist's neck and shoulders. 

              Genevieve frowned. "...No you're not." 

             Jor's eyes snapped open, her whole body tensed as a ragged inhale filled her lungs.  She was breathing in the musty scent of wool. A heavy, itchy blanket had been draped over her where she lay on a mat, her cold and reddened nose buried in the fabric.

        The pain began slowly, crawling up her legs to the mass of muscle beneath her ribs. "Gh..." She winced and rolled onto her back, cupping her palms over her aching sides. 

         "Careful. Try not to move." A dark hand pressed a warm towel to her brow. Jor blinked away the frozen tears in her eyes and looked up blearily, a face and a tall headdress of white and rose swimming into focus. 

       "Mother," Jor greeted softly, her voice thin and weak, closing her eyes once more. 

      Mother Giselle smiled gently. "Hello, Herald." 

       The canvas of a tent rose over the cleric and the scholar. Outside, people were arguing. Jor recognized Cullen's stubborn drawl and Josephine's layered accent-- both fast paced and fiery with anger. 

        Jor lifted her head weakly, prying her eyelids open, catching a glimpse of the commander's cloak and the ambassador's gown from beneath the tent flap. She was grateful to hear them... Even if they were unhappy. "What happened?" The scholar gathered her legs beneath her with a soft hiss of pain. 

        Mother Giselle followed the Jor's gaze. "...We have fled into the mountains. We all saw-- those who didn't were told the story. After you brought down the army, facing that..." the cleric shuddered. "That unholy thing.... The Nightingale's ravens found you in the snow about a mile south of here. Your companions had searched for you tirelessly. They were quite disturbed. Especially your sister." 

         "Kaisen," Jor murmured. "Kaisen's here?" 

         "Yes." Mother Giselle smiled. 

         "And Solas? Cassandra? Where is Varric? Bull?" Jor struggled to rise. 

         The cleric gently took her hand, her voice placating and soft. "All here. Please, Herald, rest. There is nothing for you to do but breathe."