Yet Broken Still You Breathe

Chapter 48

"If there ever comes a day that I am asked how it felt to love you,
I will say only this: It feels like now.
For I will be yours, even then.
Inhale. Exhale.
You've always been like breathing." - Unknown

Gwen's body felt as though it had been run over by a stampede of massive Druffalo, their hooves leaving deep imprints and bruises all over her skin. The pain was unbearable, as if she had been dragged across hot coals and then trampled all over again. Such were the effects of torture. Her body had always been resilient, stubbornly refusing to give in to death even as she felt it failing. Yet, amidst the struggles and agony, Gwen could feel her body fighting back, determined to survive against all odds.

Gwen's eyes fluttered open as she groaned, the bright sunlight filtering through the canvas tent momentarily blinding her. She winced, squinting as her vision adjusted. Where was she? That didn't look like the cold stone walls of Vigil's Keep. She tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot through her torso, causing her to gasp and sink back down. The smell of elfroot and embrium filled her nose. Bandages were wrapped tightly around her ribs and left arm. She noticed her leathers and weapons were gone, replaced by a simple undyed linen shirt and trousers.

Fragments of memories started coming back to her. She recalled Stroud's concerned face as he helped her escape from the Wardens' jail cells. He had tied her to a horse before slapping its hindquarters, sending it galloping away as a distraction while he slipped off in the opposite direction. Gwen remembered the jolting pain as the horse raced through a shallow river and then... nothing. No matter how hard she tried to recall what had happened, she was completely unable to.

Her body called out for her attention, pulling away from her increasingly distressed attempts to jog her memory. She was parched, her tongue felt like a lead block in her mouth, her lips dry and cracked, the slit in her cheek that had felt the burn of the brand ached.

A gentle hand brushed against her forehead, nimble fingers grazing against her bald head as though confused by its existence. As she adjusted to the light streaming into the tent, the figure hovering over her became clearer and clearer. It had been years since she'd last seen Leliana, but she was just as radiant as the first day they had met. Her red hair was longer, braids forgone for a more serious style and pointed, freckles scattered across her face. Her eyes were sharp, though weighed down by the years and sorrow that she had endured. She smiled, soft and loving, so at odds with the woman that Gwen had heard her rumoured to have become; the Right Hand of the Divine, brutal in her work.

"If you wished to see me so badly you should simply have asked, no need to exhaust yourself so terribly."

Gwen tried to wet her lips to no avail, but her friend was already ahead of her, bringing a cup of wonderfully cool water to her mouth and tilting her head to help her drink.

"Where am I?" she croaked, her throat dry and scratchy.

"You are in Haven and under the protection of the Inquisition." She answered pleasantly, a tinge of pride in her voice. "This is the new task I told you about in my letter."

Gwen vaguely remembered that. "How did I get here? The last I remember I was..."

"Bleeding on the back of a horse?" Her rage was quickly covered under her bright smile. "My scouts recognized your horse's saddle as a Grey Warden issue, we've been looking for any sign of them since they disappeared. Imagine their surprise when they realized they'd rescued one of my oldest friends. Neither you nor Darcy have been answering my letters. I assume your state has something to do with that."

Gwen nodded but winced, regretting the movement as pain flared from her neck. She must have been unconscious for days, if she was out the entire time Leliana's scouts carted her to Haven. "Yes, Darcy left to find a cure for the taint before things got... bad."