Yet Broken Still You Breathe

Chapter 29

"You are going to break your promise. I understand. And I hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that I will not hate you." - Catherynne M. Valente

She didn't want to leave the warmth of Alistair's embrace, but the Blight wasn't going to stop simply because she wished it to. With a reluctant sigh, they parted, hands still firmly clasped together, small smiles playing on swollen lips. It didn't take long until Darcy and Zevran found them, and despite ducking her face, Zevran appeared equally as nonplussed as Darcy who had already seen her entire face.

Suspicious.

"Oh, thank the Maker you two are alright!" Darcy wrapped them both in a tight hug, squishing them all uncomfortably together. Her hand left Alistair's to place itself firmly on Darcy's chest. She made no move to push him away, but her nerves were still on a hare's edge and she couldn't help the reaction to his closeness.

He pulled back, dusting off their shoulders like a concerned parent. "We heard all that shouting and came as quick as we could, but they delayed us. Apparently, they aren't super big on elves here, if you could fathom it," he said with a wry grin, a deep, knowing sadness lurking in his eyes. "What... happened?"

Gwen's stomach flopped and she avoided his gaze as it lingered on her uncovered face, only now realizing that she did not have her bandana on. Darcy looked inquisitively between Alistair and Gwen, who both blushed despite their best efforts not to.

"It's nothing," Gwen dismissed, wishing this conversation to be over.

Alistair shot her a disapproving glare. "It wasn't nothing Gwen," he insisted, running a hand through his mussed hair. "Those people... they were... they were awful to you. They can't just get away with all that."

All mirth slid from Darcy's face and he stepped back, scanning her for any injuries. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing," Gwen hissed, tugging at her collar like she could disappear behind it.

"Then where's your bandana? Even if you took it off for Alistair, which has clearly been a long time coming, you would have put it back on when I approached with Zevran."

Gwen ignored most of his comment and instead fixed her gaze on Zevran where he stood unbothered behind Darcy. "Why are you so calm? You didn't react even in the slightest."

He shrugged, an easy smile gracing his full lips. "I admit I did take a peek in the Deep Roads when you were, uh, sleeping after our run-in with the Broodmother. You can't fault me for being curious."

She narrowed her eyes. "You mean when I was unconscious."

"Eh, same thing."

"Gwen," Darcy said, pulling her attention back to him, his fists balled and resting on his waist, hip cocked, lips pressed in a thin line. "I need you to tell me what happened."

"Why?" She challenged, flinging her arm out, her voice raising in a desperate, frayed tone. "It's not going to change anything, it's not going to change the years of my childhood that they stole from me!"

A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon them, as if the very air was holding its breath in anticipation. Amid this stillness, not even a single bird dared to chirp, as though they too were taken aback by her sudden proclamation.

Darcy glanced towards the village in the distance. "They were the ones too... you're back, that was them, wasn't it?" He spoke dangerously low, barely controlled, rage seeping into every word. Zevran watched them both with a carefully guarded stance and Alistair shifted uneasily.

Gwen's arms crossed over her chest, avoiding looking at Alistair, no matter how much she wished to be comforted by the concern she was sure he held for her. "I don't want to talk about it."