Sisters of Tevinter

Flame

    Cullen let the Crow lead him eagerly across the walls, the chill evening air kissed his face. Her hand was gentle and firm in his as she tugged him along playfully. Her hair swayed and swung in wisps of lava about her face as she beamed. The setting sun turned the strands to a halo of fire around her head. 

      She was alive today. Full of joy, less burdened by weight of dark humor. Despite the Lion's weariness, the claws of withdrawal digging deep into his gut, he took brief pleasure in seeing her like this. She had such a spirit of adventure, he was curiously happy to be a part of it as she lead him to some unknown treasure across Skyhold's battlements. 

      He was tired. It had been a long day of correspondences and reports from the West. The Western Approach was flooded with curious activity, none of it seemed natural. Lord Trevelyan had mentioned blood mages, but that wasn't the end of it. Not to mention the rising tensions in Orlais. He thought suddenly of Jormungandr-- she had seen horrible things in the future where Orlais had fallen. He had recognized the haunted gaze of a warrior exposed to death and destruction. The loss of oneself, of one's home. They must prevent that future. If not for Thedas then for Jor and her wonderous, flippant sister. His gaze caught on the glint of gold at Kaisen's throat. 

       A slender chain hung around her neck, glittering against the ivory sweep of her skin. He remembered suddenly something Leliana had said, about the Crow's love of anything shining. He smiled slightly. She was an enigma, perhaps she was part dragon. 

   The wind was picking up slightly, and Kaisen released his hand to leap up and climb the wall of a separate stone watch tower. Its roof was flat, connected to their path and only a few feet higher.  She scaled it easily, crouching at its lip to grin down at him. "Come on!" 

       "Must I?" But the commander was already taking the stones in his gloved hands, hoisting himself up, hand over hand, a sense of curiosity leading him onward. He pulled himself up to crouch beside the Crow, who sat and turned her gaze to the horizon. 

      "Watch," she murmured. 

      Obediently, Cullen followed her line of sight. The mountains rose in jagged peaks, the sun setting slowly as it bled across the skies into indigo and velvet. Stars were just beginning to emerge. Another gust of wind ruffled the commander's hair and kicked snow from the peaks ahead, the pearlescent dust catching the light of the sun's dying rays, turning to gold and scarlet, as if the mountains had burst into flame. 

       It was breathtaking. 

       Kaisen sighed softly, watching the snow drift away and fade into the growing twilight. Cullen felt a smile tug across his mouth. "Does this happen every night?" She seemed to have been expecting it.

      "A little different each time." The Crow folded her hands in her lap. 

      "It's glorious." Cullen nodded slightly to himself and watched stars bleed to life in pinpricks of mercury. 

      "I thought you'd like it. Not to mention, you can breathe out here." She took a deep breath and blew it out with a soft laugh. "Not like that lonely tower full of candlewax." 

      "It's really not so bad," the commander lied. 

      "Mhm." Kaisen rolled her glittering emerald eyes, grinning. The breeze caught her scent, iron, metal and something sweet. Was it... it was almost like apples. He furrowed his brow. Or some kind of wild flower. Not roses, nothing so decadent, it was fragile... 

    "I don't suppose you've had much time for anything but work and snatches of sleep. Have you thought about coming down from your isolation and having a drink with the mess of mercenaries we have?" She smiled. 

      The wind changed again, soft and cold. Wisteria? What was that? Cullen blinked, swallowing. "Pardon?" 

    "You should eat. Have a drink with your men. With me and the Chargers. Something. I can't stand seeing you get all pale and stained with ink like some dutiful wraith." 

     Cullen laughed, finding himself shifting slightly to lean closer. It bothered him. Pomegranates? No. Not quite. Maker's breath. He looked away to glance back at the mountains. "I'm afraid I can't." The thought of eating anything nowadays made him feel dizzy. Weak. He hadn't been able to keep anything down but water these past few nights. 

    Today was better, but he hadn't tried anything. He'd been intent to get as much work done as possible, there was always so much to do before the claws had him retching over a basin again. 

     Kaisen frowned. "Why not?" 

     A pang of guilt crossed his chest. He hated to disappoint her, he realized. He couldn't stand the dismay that dulled the sparkle of her eyes. It was as if someone had splashed water on a masterful oil painting, soiling it. "I'm sorry. I just..." The headache was building, persistent as ever, an old friend he couldn't seem to get rid of. He sighed and rubbed his stiff and aching neck. 

   "You're not afraid of us, are you?" Kaisen teased, challenging him in her playful, arrogant way that made his heart race. 

   "Not in the slightest." Heat crept across his cheeks, traitorous as it was. He swallowed. "I'm just... busy, I suppose. Perhaps some other time?" 

   "You owe me one then. The tallest ale you can find, when you can get around to it." Her smile was sad, but she nudged his arm with her elbow. He suddenly wished he hadn't been wearing armor, if only to feel the brief warmth of her touch. Just for a second. The headache pulsed, reminding him of his impending vulnerability. He stood. He had to go. It pained him, but he wouldn't let her see him deteriorate into the angry, weak and heaving mess that he seemed to become twice every week now. 

    "You have a deal." He smiled slightly, with the last of the genuine warmth he could feel. Then he peered over the edge of the wall. "Now how do we get down?"