Sisters of Tevinter

All That Glitters

     Jor had come home bruised and raving to Josephine about spies, lords and something about "they have no proof." She had an elfwoman on her arm that Kaisen didn't recognize-- the giggly, cocksure prankish type. So barely an elf at all. She grinned from where she sat on the roof of the stables. Solas wasn't going to like her. 

     Awesome. 

     Josephine had soothed the Inquisitor and let Cassandra handle the newcomer, leading the exhausted Jor to the War Room for a few letters and then hopefully a nap. 

     Poor thing. So high strung. Kaisen grinned and leaned back on the roof, folding her hands behind her head. 

     "She is tired today. Your thoughts mock her, but she's left a hole in your chest. You missed her." 

      Kaisen stiffened, but did not move. She didn't recognize this voice. Idly, she pressed her heel to the clay shingles of the rooftop, bracing the mechanism that would eject a blade from the tip of her boot. "Pardon me, what?"

      There was a beat of silence. He was behind her, the Crow could sense it. Why hadn't she heard him climb up? She started to shift her weight to turn around, but as he spoke again, Kaisen froze. 

      "You wished to be taught. You didn't care what. You suffocated in the shadow of the boy and his sword, the distant sister who had no time for dolls." The boy's voice was achingly sorrowful, words laced with a lonely kind of pain that echoed dully in Kaisen's chest. "You wished to learn. You did not care what. To be sold off like a newborn calf was the last straw. You had to escape, the drowning, the courtyard, the crows you fed at the fountain. You were suffocating. You needed a mother. You found the Nightingale."

     Kaisen's cheeks flushed with shame, her heart pounded in her chest with a curious kind of panic. It had been a long time since she'd felt fear like this. Not since... She forced a scowl. "What the hell do you know about it?" She twisted to sit up, her bootknife extending with a click, a dagger slipping from her sleeve with a reassuring grip. 

       The boy sat still behind her, his legs crossed beneath him in a childlike way.  A horribly ugly broad rimmed hat flopped into his eyes as he wrung his hands in his lap. "You are not like Jormungandr, yet you are the same. You cry as well, but not from loss. There is a well within you, dark bird, but it is empty. Dry. Scraped, hardened stone. Not green- heavy, gray. It hurts, but the pain makes you laugh. You don't want it to go away. You've made it part of you." The boy paused, then looked up. Kaisen caught a glimpse of clear, shockingly blue eyes.

       "He fills the well. Drop by drop. Cold, refreshing hazel rain fills the well with every word. Every glance." 

      "That's enough," Kaisen hissed, her freckled face aflame. "What are you?" 

      "I am Cole." 

      "Alright, you know what?" Kaisen sneered and stood up. "Shut up. Go away." 

      Cole frowned. "...I want to help. The Lion helps you." 

      "Go. Away," Kaisen snarled through gritted teeth. 

      The boy vanished. 

      The blood drained from Kaisen's face at she stared at the empty tiles of the roof. That's it. I've finally cracked. Alarmed, the Crow scrambled to the lip of the roof to check below her. No sign of the boy. Only the horses and harts stamping their feet beneath her, the scent of hay and clash of steel as-- Oh thank the Maker. 

      "Bull!" Kaisen's boots slipped on the shingles as she clumsily grasped the gutter and skidded off to dangle in the air, dropping down from the stables, knocking the breath from her lungs with none of her usual grace.