#''carry my ashes with you so we can still have fun'' remembering their favor tree wish in the first run and their wanderer title :)

[junonreactor]

colors....

[pastelrainbow666]

Camping trip- JJKxReader

1,850 words/ fluff story.

"Are you ready for the camping trip babe?”  Your boyfriend, Jungkook, said as he slammed the packed trunk down.  “I got everything in the trunk and the boys are waiting for us there."  

"Yeah, I just had to get the bug spray and sunscreen bottles.  Let's goooo!" You said that last part playfully as you got into the car.  Putting both bottles into the cup holder.  Then quickly buckled up (safety first kids 👌).    

We headed off to the Noeul Campground.  We've only been there once, so we had to use the annoying ass GPS to get there.  Her voice gets on my nerves.  So robotic and to be honest, a little creepy.  

The drive from Seoul to the camp ground was about a 40ish minutes drive.  On the way there, we headed to a convenience store and got some snacks then headed off again.  

"How can you eat those?!  Wasabi almonds are gross Y/n." Jungkook said in a disgusted manner, scrunching up his face at the thought of the taste.  

"Yah! Leave me and my delicious almonds alone, banana milk boy. "  You retorted stuffing some more of them in your mouth, feeling the quick burn of the wasabi.  

"Yoongi Hyung should've never given you some.  You're obsessed with these babe.  I'm gonna have to contact the producer of 'My Strange Addiction' then have them show you on it."  He joked.  You  slapped his shoulder.  You didn't hit him super hard though, because he is driving after all and we don’t want to get into a crash.

"Yah!  I'm not obsessed, I just like these a lot.  Anyways, aren't we almost there?"  You said annoyed by Jungkook’s joke.  You folded up the bag of the wasabi almonds, sunscreen, and bug spray.

"Yeah, just a few more miles till we get there.  So about... 12 minutes or so till we get there." He guessed.  "Also, we gotta hurry and build the tent cuz I wanna go hiking and sightseeing."  

"Alright, I'll text the boys to get started on that.  So when we do get there they'll have most of it done."  You sent the boys in the group chat to get started on building the tents and settle everything down.

IN THE GROUP CHAT: JIN’S BABIES

Y/N:  Yo! We are almost there, could y'all get started on the tents?  JK wants to go hiking

JOONIE:  Oh hey Y/N, alright we can do that ASAP. 

JIN:  Text us when you guys get here.  Also, remember that cute hispanic girl from my acting class? Amanda Perez? Well she came with us on the trip too

Y/N:  Yeah I remember her.  She’s in my Psychology class.  Quiet girl but nice tho 

JIN:  She doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but once you get to know her, she’ll yap her mouth off.  She reminds me of Yoongi in that way a lil bit

YOONGI:  Yah! Hyung, Y/N,  do me a favor and shut the fuck up! Im tryna sleep but my phone keeps going off and vibrating!

Y/N:  Yoongi it like 2 in the afternoon! Stay the fuck awake you grumpy old coot! 

YOONGI: Brat 😤 I’m not an old coot!

Y/N:  I said grumpy old coot lol

Jimin:  She right tho hyung lmaoooooo

~

A few more minutes had passed after you had turned your phone off and rested your eyes for a bit.  Enjoying the car ride.  Songs by Playd3ad played in the background.  You didn’t notice that we had neared our destination.  

“Take a right turn and you have reached your destination.” The GPS lady had said in that annoying monotone robotic voice.  You opened your eyes and turned to Jungkook turning into a parking spot.  

“Hey beautiful, we’re here~”  He said ruffling my hair, making it even more messy than it already is.  Since I hadn’t brushed it this morning.

 He took the keys out of the ignition.  I texted the boys that we’re here.  I grabbed the two bottles out of the cup holder before he got out of the car.  He then got out and opened my door for me, since both of my hands were full.  I whipped my head down and put my hair up in a ponytail. Then Jungkook popped open the trunk and pulled out 3 big fluffy blankets, our bags, and the mini grill.  Handed me the blankets and he carried the rest down to the spot where we’d meet the crew.  

“Hey lovebirds!  Took ya long enough!” Tae said, taking the blankets from my hands and both bags from JK and placing them in one of the “rooms” in the huge tent.  You rolled your eyes at Taehyung’s statement.

“Hey guys, where do I put the grill?” JK asked, holding said object and waved it around.  

“Just put right over there for now.  We’ll figure it out later after our hike.” Namjoon said pointing at a spot near the fire pit. 

You sat in the red camping chair that was next to Amanda’s purple camping chair.  Who was playing in the ashes in the fire pit with a stick.   

“Hey Amanda.  Lovely day isn’t it?” 

“Oh, hey, Y/N.  Yeah it’s a good day to go camping.”  She said shyly, still doodling in the ashes.  

“Hey Jimin? Where did you put that huge ice chest?  I was gonna put the soju bottles in there.” Yoongi asked, holding up the box of bottles.

“In my ‘room’ of the tent.  Ice should already be in it, as well as a variety of sodas, water bottles, and a variety of sub sandwiches for the ones who have a ‘special’ diet.” Jimin said, signing quotations on the word special.  Jimin was talking about you and Jungkook’s diet, since you’re both pescetarians and eat fish for a “meat”.

“K, thanks Chim.” Yoongi said before leaving to go into the tent to fill the chest up some more.  

“Hey Yoongi? Can you get me a water bottle, please?” You yelled so he could hear you.

He didn’t say anything back, so you figured he didn’t hear you. 

Jungkook came out of the tent with his arm wrapped around Yoongi’s neck.  

“Here Y/N.  I stuck my entire arm in the ice chest to get the coldest one.  You’re welcome.”  He said coldly.  You would have to know Yoongi to understand his...odd ways of kindness.  You’ve known him since you were in high school together. We lived in the same neighborhood, so we walked to and from school together often. 

“Thanks, Frosty.”  You said smiling.  Frosty was a nickname you gave him because he would eat them all the time for “breakfast”, and because he kinda comes off a little cold if you don’t know him.

“Yeah, whatever, tiny.”  

“I am only two inches smaller than you! I ain’t that short!”  You said defensively.  You stood up and crossed your arms, sighing loudly.  “I may be tiny, but everyone knows that I got the bigger di-”

“Okay! And who wants to go on that hike?” Jungkook yelled, clapping his hands, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence.  

You glared at your boyfriend for cutting you off.  But took the bug spray and sunscreen out of the cupholder in your chair and sprayed them both on.  Then handed it to the next person, until everyone who wanted to join was protected from bug bites and sun burns.  

~

The nature trails were gorgeous in every aspect of the word. The weather is just perfect today; not too hot, sunny, a light breeze blowing, feels great. The trees are so green and flowers are in full bloom. Spring is finally here! Your favorite season.  

Jungkook held your hand, swinging it as you both walked the trail together.  He looks so happy to be with you and his best friends in this place, all together.

We were at the end of the trails and started at the big, beautiful, rocky caves.   Ready to be climbed on.  

“Now be careful guys.  I don’t want anyone falling off and/or getting injured.  Alright?”  Jungkook said, gathering everyone in a group circle, like a shepherd and the sheep.  “Now, I want everyone to pair up with a partner.  I of course, will be with, Y/N.”  He smirked, turning to face you and planted a chaste kiss on your lips.  

“Alright.”  Everyone said in unison.  Finding a partner amongst themselves.  Jungkook and you, Jin and Amanda, Namjoon and Hobi, and last but not least, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung.  

Everyone climbed up to the top and screamed and shouted how they were “Kings’ of the world!”  Which made you laugh at first, then you figured, why not join in on the fun as well.  As you screamed at the top of your lungs, 

“I’M THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD!”

Jungkook placed his arm around my waist raising his fist in the air screaming as well.  When we were done, he took my chin in his hand and kissed me passionately and sweetly.  We both smiled and laughed into the kiss enjoying the moment.  Everyone whooped and hollered, we laughed and you broke the kiss.  Jungkook looked deeply into your eyes and took a deep breath in before he spoke.  

“I love you so much, Y/N.  You make me the happiest man alive.  I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t met you.  You’ve changed my life and the way I look at life now.”  

You laughed at his words, know how he says the darnest things at random moments.  “I love you too, Kookie.”  

He got down on one of his knees.  “So… Will he marry me, Y/N?”  He took out a tiny box from his jean pocket, opening it up to reveal a black and white diamond engagement ring with a rose gold band.  The same one you were both looking at Jared’s a couple month’s back.  You admired the ring’s unique pattern and look.  You were so surprised by his action, you just stood there, mouth wide open, and bug eyed.  

“I-I… Jungkook…” You started to say, but your voice broke and tears started to leak from your eyes.  Your hand covering your mouth.  Everyone around you looked nervous, wondering what you’re about to say.  I wiped my tears with my hands and took a deep breath in, then looked into his deep brown eyes.  

“Jungkook, yes!  Yes, I’ll marry you!”  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him once again. 

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[vhyral]

THE HERALD’S MARCH

100 And One Reasons Why Taking A Stroll Through A Snow Blizzard Isn’t As Much Fun As One Would Think

Setting: Scaling that stupid mountain after the attack on Haven

Words: Around 5000

Warnings: Me murdering english grammar

Nothing, nothing but white.

Feynras is stumbling through a world of snow. There is no difference between sky and earth, between the spot she was standing a second before and the one she has dragged her feet to now. Not in the howling wind that lifts the white powder and swirls it around, covering her tracks, hiding the trees, smacking it against her hair and body. She’s following a morbid trail of broken crates, stray wagon wheels and the occasional stain of bloodied snow that hasn’t still been blanketed by the blizzard. They point forwards, through the white oblivion, to the faint orange hue that is the light of fires, the sign of people, pulsating so far away, it could be a mirage.

Eighty six steps since the cave.

She’s cursing at the pitifully thin clothes that were so in place between Haven’s roaring fireplaces and warm dishes, the rushed decision of forsaking her armor in favor of a few hours of gentler fabrics. The silk does nothing against the cold and the thin overcoat with the fur around her shoulders is whipping at her skin instead of keeping her warm. Her knee, already hurting from the fall, gives way at the next step when the Mark crackles brightly on her palm, harder than she has ever seen it, lighting the snow with its bright green.

Gods, it hurts.

She groans in the blizzard. It feels not like fire and it’s not like physical pain either; it’s like the lightnings Rhian made back in the clan’s camp, jolting her up and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on their ends. But her lightnings only stung a little and tickled down her back and they always laughed and chased each other afterwards. The Mark goes deeper, electrifies the inside of her bones, tags violently at the magic in her veins and disorients her thoughts. It pulls at her chest and makes her whole arm jolt every time it shines.

One more step, Feynras urges herself. One foot before the other. Easy. Piece of a cake. Fahlron would have already shouted at me for dragging my feet again. He’d sneer. Tell me that’s why I am the younger twin.

One more step, she promises. Maybe her ribs aren’t really cracked as she knows they are. Maybe her arm, tightly tied to her side with a makeshift silk bandage, isn’t really broken but only fractured.

Ninety two.

Breathing is getting harder by every inhale; the air is crystallic, tearing her chest from the inside out. When she finds the remains of a fire, she lets out a hopeful moan. Her throat quivers, breaking the sound, sending a burning up to her ears, up to their edges that she can’t feel anymore.

One foot in front of the other.

The fire was cold.

–

She has already counted a hundred and fourty four steps when she sees the half covered trail of a wagon, brandished so deep into the snow, it has not yet been covered up. It’s followed by more trails and twenty steps further down, she finds a cloth caught in a lone, dry weed sticking out of the snow. She can see rough outlines of trees now, grey walls at her sides. The voices of wolves are carried by the wind, howling and growling and running through the snow on light, graceful paws that don’t sink like her feet. Dread wolf take her, she cannot tell if they’re close or far in this seething hell of snow and she cannot walk faster. Fahlron would have known.

Fahlron.

They will stop for the night, his voice soothes in her head, you’ll sure catch up with them. We caught up with the aravels that summer, how faster could shems be?

And I will be there, to kick your ass for what you did, adds the shadow. Just wait until the Keeper hears.

A hundred and sixty two.

When she comes across the next fire pit, Feynras falls on her knees next to it. Her ears hurt where they have not yet become numb, the air she breathes seems to have more snow than oxygen in it. She’s spitting what she can’t swallow, more blood than saliva, red on pristine white. Rocks have replaced the sea of trees around her, marking a narrow path up the mountains. There are rocks under her feet too, the unstable hidden by the snow as much as the safe ones and it has reduced her pace to mere dragging of her feet instead of walking. The Mark sparkles again on her skin and she shoves her left hand into the pit of ashes lying under the triangle of wooden sticks, hoping for coals, hoping it’s going to burn her.

It’s warm instead.

–

Two hundred and thirty six.

Two hundred and thirty seven.

The Mark lashes out and she grunts as all the spectrum of limy green dances in front of her feet.

Two hundred and-

–

“The boss was clear.”

«Fahlron-»

“Move it.”

Dorian exhaled, blood thumbing noisily through the bridge of his nose, the recently healed part still warm and itchy. The argument outside his nursery tent dangerously decreased in volume as he listened, the shuffling of feet replacing the hissed elven curses.

Then someone yelped, the Iron Bull groaned and the crescent blade of a dagger cut through the tent’s fabric, sinking itself deep into the stepped snow near Dorian’s boot, making the mage jump and a startled “kaffas” to leave his lips.

«Fahlron, please!»

Rhiannon when Dorian threw the front of his tent open, both hands firmly grasping the hunter’s arm still holding one of his twin daggers. Bull sported a fresh cut across his chest; he sighed and brushed away the few blood trails.

«Krem, last time I checked, I could handle an armed elf.»

Krem run a finger over his bruised knuckles. «Sorry, Chief. With all the yelling, I thought the dragon was back.»

The dalish hunter had a new bleeding scar himself now, Dorian noticed, the skin of his left cheekbone red and raw. A few bloody drops rolled down on his lips and he bit hard over them, glaring at both qunari and soldier.

If only looks could kill, Dorian hummed to himself, our trebuchets would have to sign up for an early retirement.

«You left her for dead.» Fahlron seethed, completely ignoring his cousin hanging from his shoulder as he tried to take a step forward and dragged her with him. «That thing came for her and you gave her to him just like that. And now that her job is done, you’re still keeping me from her?»

«You don’t want to go down there, kid.» Varric ‘s voice came behind them, hoarse and tired and Dorian let his gaze wander over the snowy mountains, where a hazy mix of snow and smoke was still littering parts of the sky. The people’s cries around them, the hushed whispers of the worn out healers created a sorrowful lullaby in his ears.

Somewhere out there, under tons of snow- the Altus shuddered.

«With the whole mountainside down on Haven…» Next to him, the dwarf shook his head with grief, deep lines creasing his brow. «There is hardly anything that you’d want to find. Remember her- remember her as she was.»

«Even so!» Fahlron’s fingers hardened around the dagger though his voice cracked, spilled and died out.

«We have to.» Rhian straightened her back next to him, her eyes red and puffy and still glistening with tears. «She did her part and now, we have to find her. And if she- if she’s gone, we have to plant her tree.»

–

“White snow, white sky, white breath out of my lips. Fuck that tree, fuck that rock, fuck this air, fuck every dragon in the world.”

Leliana jumped where she was sitting, in one of the few infirmary tents, watching a healer tending to Cassandra’s cut and injured leg. The young, pale boy that stared at them through the tent’s entrance hadn’t been there a second before.

“Andraste’s flaming sword!” Cullen gasped from his seat next to her. “Where did he come from?”

“One foot forwards, the other follows, two hundred and forty. The fires looked closer from the mountain’s base. Fuck the mountain, fuck Tevinter, fuck the Fade, fuck the world. Rinse. Repeat. Fuck that tree in particular.”

“What’s with all the swearing?” they heard Cassandra call.

“What are you talking about?” Leliana was looking at him bewildered. The aloof young man had been of great help in their escape from Haven- he had kept children from wandering in the blizzard, he had been there to help elders from tumbling down the mountainside, he had kept people from panicking when they had been momentarily lost in a particularly thick cloud of snow.

“She’s hurt.” he said instead of an answer. “The air is too cold and her clothes too thin- she should have worn the armor or have stolen his coat.”

“What?” snorted Cullen, feeling agitated under those colorless eyes.

“Her legs are giving up and she can barely breathe. It is the hand that is the worst- he did something, something, and now it’s open, dripping light, bleeding magic, draining me.”

“What are you?” growled Cassandra from the tent’s depths. “I can feel-”

“Her hand… are you talking about the Herald?” Cullen’s voice overlapped with hers as he leaned forwards, a spark in his eyes. “Is she alive? How do you-”

“You can hear her!”

Leliana sprung from her seat and the boy nodded, his wide hat rippling with the motion.

“She’s tired and the pain- she’s close but she doesn’t know. Steps are getting heavier, shorter, slower. She wants to live, she wants to see them.” He looked up at the spymaster. “I’ll show you.”

“Impossible!” she heard Cassandra cry as Cullen burst out of the warm tent, hastily following her and Cole through the snowy wind.

–

“Maker’s Mercy!”

There were voices in the wind and orange hues in the distance when she looked up from the snow. Red, orange, black, green, she thought. Some blue would look marvelous right about now. The sky. No more clouds. No more snow. Maybe the sun.

“It’s her!”

“She’s alive!”

Feynras could barely hear them over the wind in her ears and the rugged breathing in her chest.

Three hundred and one…

At the next step, her knee buckled weirdly and the muscle fluttered; the mage found herself falling to her knees, the world spinning.

“Herald!”

There was an arm around her shoulders when she came back from a moment of blackness. A warm, steady arm, too warm to be true. “M-Ma serannas-s!” she gasped with frozen lips and rattling teeth, desperately leaning closer. “Ma s-s-serannas!”

Her face was buried in fur and glorious heat. The arm around her hovered with uncertainty for a moment, then grabbed her firmly again, fingers digging into her shoulder. There was some fumbling around and she was wrapped into something warm.

“She’s freezing!” cried a male voice over her head.

“Healers!” demanded a woman. “Bring her in! Cassandra!” she reprimanded. “Go back right this moment! Don’t step on that foot!”

Feynras was whisked up in the air, sturdy arms under her back and the back of her knees. The arms were too thick, she was raised too high over the ground. She got pressed against something chilly and rocked against it as the man ran. She moaned to the touch. Blinking her eyes hurt though she managed to see deep red and sunny gold through the frozen eyelids. Not Fahlron, then.

“Com-mmander.” she managed. “C-Cullen.”

“Herald!” he answered. “Herald, keep your eyes open! Don’t fall asleep!”

She heard him through the haziness spreading like mist behind her eyes. It was so warm now, so comfortable, she had walked for so long. Surely it wouldn’t hurt so… Her eyelids fluttered.

“Herald!” Cullen pleadingly growled again over her head. “You must stay awake! Not now-”

“Feynras!”

–

Cullen watched from his corner in the tent. The wind was howling outside, banging on the heavy fabrics around them but the fire pit burnt steadily in the center. The Herald was laying on a makeshift bed, under a pile of blankets, all that could be spared. Cassandra’s, Dorian’s, Varric’s, Rhian’s, Fahlron’s, his.

Solas was hunched over her, treating her. The few healers that weren’t yet completely exhausted had found and binded all the external wounds they could while making her down healing potions, one after another, as often as they dared. Yet she hadn’t yet woken up when they had done all they could and left to replenish their mana and the elven mage was visibly stiff as he looked over her. At her side, her dark haired brother was holding her hand firmly between his own, his body hunched close to hers as if to share his warmth. He was whispering to her in elven and giving Solas anxious glances with those eyes of the same grassy green. Their cousin, kneeling on the other side of the makeshift bed, was assisting the other mage, asking and pointing out in a low voice with her ears plastered to the sides of her head. Somewhere at Cullen’s right, Cole was sitting on a log, watching the elves under the rim of his hat and occasionally murmuring to himself. Mother Giselle was further in the spacious tent, preparing a beverage that left a sweet, warm scent flood the air, dangerously numbing his senses and lulling him to a sweet drowsiness.

It had been a scary race to the camp, with the elf hanging limply from his arms, her fingers, lips and ears shaded blue and her left hand spitting out pulsing waves of angry green. She was small and weightless and Cullen hadn’t thought it possible to run so fast through snow before.

Now, as he looked under heavy eyelids, Solas helped her to one more healing potion. She coughed and hacked this time as the liquid was forced down her throat, squirming a little in his arms.

“Ma da’lathin!” Rhian called suddenly and Cullen’s head was shot up while Fahlron’s ears twitched. «Feynras!» Cassandra poked her own head in through the tent’s opening, where she had been sitting for the past hour, wrapped in furs. “You’re safe now, da’lhen,” Solas soothed, “but you must tell me, does it hurt anywhere?”

“Chest-” croaked the Herald in an almost inaudible, ghostly voice. “My chest-”

“I’ll need more bandages.” Solas called to Mother Giselle as he flipped the blankets over, reaching for her blouse.

“Nae.”

The Herald’s voice rang louder and broken when the elf was done with the robes and began rolling the blood stained shirt over her head. Cullen saw her hands stiffen at her sides.

“It’s ok, Lavellan.” Solas whispered gently, feeling at her ribs, touching with feather light fingers and grimacing at what he found. Three, he briefly mouthed to them and Cullen’s heart sank in his chest. Cassandra grunted and Feynras was shifting on the bed with increasing intensity while Rhiannon was anxiously fidgeting, smoothing down her hair and whispering soothingly at her. Fahlron remained still as a statue through it all, clasping her hand with his features drawn.

“It’s me.” Solas spoke. “Don’t move. I’ll have to bind your sides.”

“Nae!” she cried when he tried to stabilize her torso, eyes wide open and glassy. “Nae, nae! Ga rahn!” (No, no! Go away!)

Fahlron lowered himself and spoke to her words Cullen didn’t understand. The Herald seemed to relax for a while but when the elven apostate tried to proceed, she snapped again. He clicked his tongue as he leaned to examine her irises. “Unresponsive.” he mumbled. “She’s confused, not really listening. Cassandra.” Cullen had half raised himself as the young woman thrashed but Solas motioned to the Seeker and he sat himself down again. “Please, keep her from moving.”

“Hands on my hands, too big, unyielding, weight on my hips, a knee on my chest, I cannot breathe.”

Cullen jumped to the whispering voice coming under the hat.

“The fire in his eyes, his fingers around my neck, oh Creators, help me.”

He had completely forgotten about the young man next to him yet as he turned to look at him with curiosity, Feynras let out a yelp and he felt the air in the tent stir.

It tagged at his guts, made the lyrium in his veins sing and burn in the pit of his belly. It was the stirring of magic gathering that only a templar could feel, called from the Fade and pooling around the Herald, hot and burning and about to be released. Cassandra groaned painfully, sweat forming on her brow and in a matter of seconds, the tent’s inside began to boil.

Instinct obeying years of training and active duty, Cullen crisply turned towards the bedridden elf and raised a hand.

“Silence.” He spoke the word though it was not needed, an old habit. With an inaudible crack, the magic in the tent dispensed and thinned out. The sudden heat gone, chilly, bone cracking air rushed inside, beating wildly on the entrance’s cloth and carrying fresh snowflakes at their feet.

“What are you doing, Templar?!” Fahlron had jumped to his feet before he could blink, mouth drawn to a snarl and hand reaching for a dagger when his sister responded.

“NAE!”

The Herald let out a howl and her body arched on the bed, making the hunter freeze in place; wasn’t Cassandra firmly holding her hands over her head, she would have fallen off. Solas looked at her with surprise but then leaned forward again. Before he could touch her though, he found his hand held.

“Let me.” said Fahlron, leaning over the other elf and Cullen noticed that the elf’s face was painted in a pale gray, his eyes dark and ominous.

“Let me.” he repeated and it was not an offer. When Solas finally straightened his back, giving him a curious glance, the hunter leaned over his twin, gently pushing her shoulders down. He gave his cousin a brief glance and she nodded.

«Sylaise, guide my hands.» she prayed before turning to Solas.

«Please.» she pleaded. «Solas. Help me help her.»

The elf regarded the both of them for a brief second before he quickly leaned back close, explaining, talking and guiding the other mage’s hands. Rhian listened carefully, beginning to work on the bandages, whispering to the Herald under her breath.

“Ga rahn! Ar tu na'din!” Feynras was growling now. “Ar tu na’din! Ma halam! Nae!” (I will kill you! You are finished! No!)

She kept on mumbling and growling until Solas was done with his treatment.

“My magic, my power, me, me, me! My self!” came the hushed voice from his right and even though Cullen still jumped at its sound, this time he turned to look at the young man as he stared at the elf under his hat, looking increasingly agitated.

“Cut off of me, taken, stolen. Thief, murderer with his breath behind my neck, his hands like chains and she’s crying, she’s bloody, she’s dead. Useless, a wolf without a pack, a hunter with no bow. Brothers, where are you?”

Then, on the peak raising, his voice went silent and Cullen let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He had talked about magic being stolen, about being silenced- a shiver ran down the man’s back but the boy’s words were reduced to a soft, incomprehensible mumbling during the next hour, until Solas finally wiped his hands and signaled for Cassandra that it was ok to release the now quieter Herald. Rhian kept holding her hand, peeking worriedly at the Mark though no more light was bleeding through her fingers while Fahlron wrapped her back into the blankets before placing a hand on the golden halo over the other elf’s head and whispering.

“Ir abelas, lethallan, ir abelas. It is alright now.”

The Herald let out a low, throaty whimper, broken from the cold and her screams when Mother Giselle stepped closer to the bed, a steaming cup in her hands. Fahlron sniffed the air next to her, glaring at the cup but Rhian shook her head and he settled down again, resigning himself to tired staring. Kneeling next to the bed, the woman slipped a hand under the elf’s head and carefully brought the cup to her lips. “Drink, child.” she said in a low, gentle voice when she refused the cup. “Drink and you may sleep soundly.”

Maybe driven by the Mother’s kind voice, maybe too tired to resist, Feynras downed the warm drink in the end and her eyelids slowly close. Soon the only sound over the snowy wind and the crackling of fire was that of the sound breathing of sleep.

–

When Feynras woke up, her body temperature had gone from an icicle in a snowstorm straight to ‘just bathed in dragon fire’.

At least there was a roof over her head, she registered, the dark green fabric of the Inquisition’s tents and she could hear the cruckle of fire, surprisingly close to her cot and unexpectedly soothing. It meant people and people meant she was safe again - as safe as someone could be, hiding in the mountains from a crazed, mass murdering wanna-be-god and his pet dragon.

It was the second time in a couple of months that she found herself waking up, having just made it out of a catastrophe. Feynras let out a groan to the unpleasant memories and tried to move instead. The reason of the heat quickly became apparent- her body was buried under what seemed to be the entirety of blankets found in the camp. The cozy hill refused to bulge under her movements and her muscles stung with disapproval, shore and bruised, reminding her that she had indeed taken a three meters dive on rotten wood and stone and then scaled a mountain during the few past hours.

Both her hands tugged at something when she decided to try and just push the blankets away and for a second she wondered if she had woken up bound, a suspect once again. Looking though, she found Fahlron, gripping her fingers tightly and breathing lightly, eyes closed as he leaned back on a wooden chair by the side of her bed. On the other side, Rhian’s auburn hair was all that was visible, the elf having fainted from tiredness on the floor and against her bed, hands still firmly around her own.

Freeing her left hand, she mussed with Rhian’s hair. A dry leaf wandered down from it but the elf didn’t move a muscle, only huffed a little in her sleep.

«Don’ let it breathe… on you…» she mumbled. «Bad… drag’n… Sit.»

«You will freeze if you sleep there, asa’var’lin.» she murmured before turning to stare at her brother. His skin was paper white even under the orange fire glow and with a new wound overlapping with the old scar on his cheek. Feeling him so close she found was more comforting than the tent, the fire, the sound of voices outside and Feynras gave his hand a squeeze, her fingers curling around the familiar shape of his bigger, cooler ones. He didn’t move.

“You’re awake.” came a gentle voice from the head of her bed.

Mother Giselle was standing there in worn chantry robes that had surely seen better days, probably in some sun lit cathedral. Anywhere warmer.

“I am.” Feyras said, surprising herself with how hoarse her voice was now that she spoke louder, as if Varric had just spoken through her throat. Her tongue felt thick and somewhat limp between her teeth. “Did you get the name of the mountain that fell on me by any chance, Mother Giselle? I’d like to press charges.”

“Or at least set it on fire.” she added when the older woman let out a low sigh and moved closer. “That would be an improvement.”

“It would, my dear, though I think the snow and local wildlife would disagree.”

“The snow can shove it.” Feynras groaned, rubbing her forehead with a hand. She caught a glimpse of the streak of green scarring the inside of her palm but the Mark sat there closed and innocent, like it hadn’t been frying her nerves a few hours prior.

“We should let our leaders know.” Mother Giselle softly said, having checked her color and now heading for the tent’s entrance. “They’ve been circling the tent for hours now but the mage ordered for rest and silence- knowing that you’re awake should be comforting to them.”

Feynras sighed. Not a moment of rest for the weary. “Mother.” she resigned herself, carefully unlacing Fahlron’s fingers from her own. “If you would help me with the blankets first.”

–

“What would you have me tell them? This isn’t what we asked them to do!”

Cullen’s voice rang over the nearby tents, anger spilling alongside frustration.

“We can’t simply ignore this! We must find a way!”

“And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!” Josephine argued.

The ambassador was still holding the adorned board that always carried her papers. Feynras suspected that while people had fled Haven clinging on clothes, supplies and loved ones, the scented wood had never left the Antivan’s hands. Its candle stood unlit, to preserve it for when she would actually need to read her documents. For now, all the board provided was reassurance in a night where all the walls and safety had been robbed of them.

“That can’t come from nowhere!”

“She didn’t say it could!”

“Well, we agree on that much!”

She watched them scatter after the Commander’s last burst. The front of her tent now stood open, the fabric tied up and allowing her view of their little gathering while she was still on her bed near the fire.

They had come to see her right away and with them, Solas. The mage seemed weary and drained of mana and Feynras could guess why. She had offered him a whispered ma serannas when he had leaned over her and he had given her a minute, tired smile in exchange. He had seemed weirdly cautious while checking her pulse and ribs but had finally deemed her able to move and the blankets had been removed. He had left for his own tent afterwards, the one right next to yours, he had assured. He had given her a glance, nodded and mouthed later before exiting.

Feynras lifted herself on her elbows. “They’ve been at it for hours.” she winced at Mother Giselle that sat next to her bed, watching the scene unfold.

“They have the luxury, thanks to you.” the Mother shook her head. “The enemy couldn’t follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame.”

“Infighting will tear us apart.” the elf shook her head. “If they keep on like that, we won’t even have to wait for Corypheus to track us down. Do we even know where he is?” The creaking of the trebuchet, the roar of the incoming avalanche and the ground shaking under tons of snow were all still fresh in her memory. Yet, she had seen that damned dragon take flight as she fell- all the struggle and that bastard might have still been alive.

“We don’t know where we are.” Rhian huffed from where she was sitting, at the feet of her cousin’s bed. «All I can see are mountains and white- I had never thought there could be too much snow.»

«You?» Feynras snorted through her nose. «Too much snow? And here I thought the sky falling was the weirdest thing I’d see this year round.»

«Yeah, certainly not a good thing when the ice mage is dreaming of some more fire time.» Rhian murmured, her lips pressed into a thin line. «We know where Haven is but unless we’re planning on going back, that’s of no help. I heard the spymaster. We fled the way opposite of civilization- this part of the Frostbacks has never been mapped. No roads, no landmarks, no nothing. Only rocks.»

«Which might be why Corypheous or his forces haven’t found us yet.» Mother Giselle straightened on her seat, watching over the scattered advisors with weary eyes. «That, or you are believed dead. Or without Haven, we are thought toothless, lost in the mountains to perish from the cold. Or he girds for another attack. I cannot claim to know the mind of that creature, only his effect on us.”

“If that thing is still out there, we have to move.” Fahlron poked his head over the tent’s side, a waterskin in each hand. “Want some?” he offered Feynras one. “It’s ale. Shemlen ale, though it should still help with the pain.”

Feynras shook her head. “My tongue’s still weird, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It’s kinda… squishy?” She probed her tongue out- it pulsed in the cool air. “Ith the coloth al’ ith?”

“Not green yet.” Fahlron grumbled, leaning closer to stare at it. “A dozen healing potions do that to people. I don’t know if you can get overdozed with those things but you certainly got too close for my liking.” He gave her puffed out cheeks a light tap and turned to Rhian when Feynras recoiled from him.

«Ale?» he offered, leaning against one of the poles holding the tent up.

She regarded him for a few seconds, a shadow passing over her eyes before she shook it away, taking the water skin and sniffing at it.

«Who did you scare into giving you this?»

Fahlron took a swing before raising an eyebrow. «Nobody.» he shrugged. «These are Krem’s, given willingly.» he added when the mage glared at him. «For the Herald and to get back on good spirits after this.» He flicked an irritated ear over his bruised left cheek. The red mark there was quickly melting into a sickly purple, mingling with the black of his vallaslin. He eyed his sister.

“Won’t you heal it for me?”

Feynras cackled. “I’m pretty sure that whatever that is, you deserve it. Who did you try to beat up?” she huffed yet raised a hand up to him anyway. Her fingers cupped around the familiar shape of her brother’s cheek, fitting around it as she called forth a tiny bit of magic through her fingertips, tensing in anticipation to the Mark’s reaction.

She felt nothing but the usual sunlight-like warmth of healing magic slipping through her palm and into the chilled skin underneath, mending the tiny internal bleeding. Ready, she muttere when Fahlron’s skin color was back to normal and flexed her fingers as her brother straightened up, glaring at the advisors.

«They are channeling all their bottled up anger at each other.» The hunter turned to the Revered Mother. «And we are losing precious time.» he pointed out to where the advisors had scattered. Lelianna was sitting on the ground, legs folded and head between her knees while Josephine was on the bench behind her, fiddling with her papers, a lost gaze in her eyes. Cassandra was staring at the map with her arms planted firmly on the table, her shoulders squared and chin tensed - from time to time she’d grunt, take a few raging steps around and then return to it. Cullen had left for a walk around the refugees’ tents, venturing away from their field of vision.

“This is not the time to loiter around, wondering who’s in charge or how to rally the people forward.” Fahlron hissed. “There’s a monster at our tail - one mention of the dragon and all these people will be ready to march in the morning. We must go!”