#i should know! my ankle still freezes up from the 2019 incident

[somnolent-scout]

Reading Arkan Cosplay's health update made me actually cry for a minute..

[my-happy-little-bean]

Picnics in the Imagination

pairings: no romantic ones! just a nice LAMP fic :) words: 3294 warnings: mild swearing, insecurity, slight hurt/comfort vibes

summary: 

Everyone stared at those two bees in front of them; what were they doing? 

Or: the sides share a moment in the Imagination. 

a/n- hello! pls excuse this like, weird character study of a one shot heh. i have been having trouble with characterization, so i guess my way to solve that was to,,,write solely based on characterization lol. it was good practice, and even if it’s a bit rough, i still hope you enjoy it :)

read on ao3~

---------

There were two bees fighting in front of him.

They were about seven feet away, and he decided that he should be able to outrun them if they decided to team up against him; or worse, if they were going to attract some equally-terrifying friends. But for the time being, they seemed like they were too wrapped up in trying to murder each other to even notice him. 

It made Virgil wonder why Roman did stuff like that; why he would create a world so beautiful, only to have it destroy itself. He wondered if the self-inflicted drama was some stupid way of him validating his own strength or whatever.

Or maybe it was only this destructive when Virgil was here. 

It wasn’t too far-fetched of an idea. That was why it took two and a half weeks to convince Virgil to even take a step into the Imagination again, let alone sit down in it and eat sandwiches. 

Though, who could really blame him? He wasn’t meant to exist here, where everything was all special and breathtaking and make-believe. It was literally everything he wasn’t. The last time he was here, it had seemed like the Imagination was actively trying to push him out via a million tiny goblins. 

(Virgil couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of stuffing them all in a box, frantically searching for the key to trap them there forever before they set off again and ruin someone else’s hat.)

And even if it was okay for him to be here, there wasn’t much for him to do. No one wanted to imagine the storms Virgil found himself under, anyway. After all, the things Roman triumphantly held on the ends of his sword were from monsters Virgil embodied. The grass he stepped on literally burned at the tips if he stood on it for too long.

So why did he feel so...so safe?

Logan had told him once that the Imagination responded to everyone who stepped into its territory. It was supposed to be reassurance, but it was something that scared Virgil the most; that something could reflect the heavy static he could barely walk across everyday. And the first few times he was here, it did.

But now, the Imagination felt like a weighted blanket; almost suffocating at first, but gave way to the unfamiliar feeling of a hug. If he closed his eyes for a second, he could hear a distant thunderstorm coming from who-knows-where; a gentle memory of the only natural disaster he found comfort in. And the grass he stepped would burn, yes, but not all the time now; and it would always resolve itself anyway by bringing to light a small, black rose from the ashes.

His place in the Imagination today only reminded him of the effort everyone was willing to put forth for him; that everything was slowly getting used to the fact that he wasn’t some leech latching onto the sun. Roman eased the worries of his creation, one that had once despised him and all he was; and then eased the worries of Virgil, who didn’t believe he could finally be anything other than the bad guy. Logan made the plans—he always made the plans—and Patton…

Well, Patton tried everything. 

He took a sip from his tea and set it aside, pulling his hood over his head and curling up on Patton’s lap. He heard the side giggle and felt him push his hood back ever-so slightly; just to scratch idly behind his ear and braid his fingers through his hair. 

And Virgil let him.

Besides, he was too wrapped up in another thought to really care much; the thought that he wasn’t in the moment enough that the moment would pass him by before he could properly appreciate it. He couldn’t help but think about how everyone would eventually pack their things when his storm finally came around. He picked at the sharp grass beside him, scared that it would all go away somehow when he finally– finally– woke up from this dream.

He couldn’t help but look up at the bright blue skies above him. 

Virgil sighed, chewing his bottom lip nervously. The Imagination, even as a concept, was so daunting. It stretched so far beyond him that it pretty much scared him shitless. The clouds looked like they could fall on him at any given second, and the bees—as pretty as they are— were still fighting; who’s to say they couldn’t hurt him too?

But it was beautiful. 

And he was here. 

Virgil closed his eyes and heard the soft sound of rain, far far away.

And when he opened his eyes, he saw Roman, 

who was shaking his head at him with a knowing smile. 

---

Roman couldn’t help but beam as he watched the two bees in front of him dance, a harmonious waltz above the lush, green grass they grew. Logan could say anything he wanted about the Imagination; the real world could never compare to all of this.

Or at least, that’s what Roman used to think. 

Truth be told, the Imagination was only this beautiful when Thomas was satisfied. For the most part, Roman would be running around, dousing fires– literal fires– in every direction. He’d end his days without really ending them, fighting monsters to make his world flawless when the sun rose. This picnic was actually the first time he really stood still in the Imagination since…well, since the Great Goblin Incident of 2019; though that was less of a wake-up call and more of an unwelcome surprise.

(Roman wasn’t able to get the goo out of his hair for weeks.) 

And he took great pride in how special his creation was. After all, he made it — and he was pretty awesome. He was able to plant seeds in Thomas’s mind and thus grow a beautiful, magnificent garden. He grew so many gardens actually. He’d grow them left and right, without much of a thought. Anything to spruce up the place.

But there were other days when the Imagination would claw at him for more– for something else. It would grab his ankles as he walked and drag him through the ground when he least expected it, begging him for a new garden; a new village; a new adventure; a new anything. 

And at some point, the Imagination became his office. Sure, it was a place Roman would escape to so he could build a tower to hide in when the real world got too much. But it was also a place that Roman would eventually give into; one that would force him to stay the night so he could finish that thing– there was always that one thing. 

It was where he would fight Anxiety and win. It was where Morality would cheer for him and carry him on his shoulders with glee. It was where Logic didn’t exist. 

It was a place where Roman was everyone’s hero; where everyone needed Creativity.

Not today, though. 

Today, the sun glowed bright in the crystal-clear skies without him. He didn’t need the birds to sing him ballads, and he didn’t need the squirrels to care about him all that much. And he would come here to work, yes; but he’d come here to appreciate his work as well. 

Nowadays, Patton, Virgil, even Logan appreciated his work alongside him. They saw beauty in every crack Roman would dwell over; saw love and care in each one of his masterpieces. They even took the time to appreciate the gruelling effort that bled through his creation and made sure he was resting– actually resting– when he was done for the day. 

And he vowed to repay their love — even if they insisted that he didn’t need to. A glorious battle, perhaps! He could put himself in danger for them, just to show them he would. He could even wage a war with the feelings the others held too close to their chests, those feelings embodied as gruesome monsters and foe,  and he would win. Every time. 

Because Roman could never lose. Not with them by his side.

He looked around him with a bright smile and a dawning realization, one that he came across a thousand times, nowadays:

The realization that he was surrounded by everything he could ever need.

Roman finished another song on his ukulele and Patton burst into applause. Logan simply nodded at his performance, flipping through another page of the book Roman recommended to him. Virgil just pulled his hoodie over his head and curled up in Patton’s lap. 

Poor storm-cloud. He almost felt sad watching him. A part of him would always be jaded by the fact that he ever hurt Virgil. 

Roman stood up and walked a few feet away from everyone else, looking off into the distance before closing his eyes. He thought for a little while, and then sent the wind away to bring back the sound of rain and sprinkle it over their heads. 

That would hopefully help.

He turned around and looked at the rest of his family. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. He could feel the grass tickle his feet, as if it were planning to lift him off the ground any second now. A cool breeze weaved itself through his hair and when they dropped off the sound of rain, they picked up the song Roman played to spread it across the land. 

He looked up at the sky and watched the birds soar above them, 

and thought about how his creation no longer hated him. 

He then met Virgil’s eyes, and wondered if he felt the same thing.

Nothing can hurt you here, Roman thought. Not anymore.

---

Swarming was a natural process in the life of a honey bee colony. It was a method of propagation; one that occurred in response to crowding within the colony. If a bee was huddled close to another, it was most likely that they were in the beginning phases of attracting a swarm. 

Perhaps that is what those two bees were doing in front of them. 

How fascinating. 

Logan took a break from reading to take in his surroundings. Roman must have dedicated a respectable amount of time to making the Imagination so faithful to real life. The way each tree was carved in patterns unlike each other, the way the waters seemed to move endlessly and not on a loop. 

He knew they were not real. None of them were. So it was interesting to think that not one part of Roman’s world was fabricated in a way that was mechanical and half-hearted; but was instead crafted with such caution and care. Every grass in its own, respective place; every flower grown for a reason. 

Logan had made numerous visits to the Imagination in the past; for research purposes, more often than not. Well, other than the dreadful incident with the exploding goblins; though his presence in the whole ordeal was the by-product of an untimely coincidence.

He had interviewed Roman countless times to learn more about this place, but he was yet to leave with an unbiased point of view. Roman would not contribute many useful points to their discussions, choosing to speak only in fanciful, unhelpful metaphors. All he would say about the Imagination was that it merely existed; and it existed so beautifully that it did not need much explanation. 

Everything was there for a reason he could not explain. 

He had compiled a few notes based on his own extrapolations and observations; consuming knowledge he would then pass onto Thomas so that he could better understand himself (or onto Virgil, to ease his trepidation towards Roman’s creation).

However, he had never really taken the time to just...sit in it. 

There were so many creatures and biomes, even cities; all nestled safely underneath the boundless shelter of the Imagination. And the sky was always stunning, no matter the weather. He wondered if Roman would allow him into this strange place more often for recreational purposes. He wondered if Roman would even enjoy his company.

The picnic, of course, was Patton’s idea. It was his way of “bonding” with everyone. Patton had many ideas of what ‘bonding’ looked like — weekly onesie-and-movie nights, having dinner together (even if they did not need to consume food), bi-weekly board game nights, et cetera. With so many options, Logan was not quite sure why Patton found the need to spend even more time with him. 

He was not blind to the fact that his presence was not arbitrary. Really, his only function was to present knowledge when needed, then allow the others to use that knowledge in order to make Thomas...well, content. If anyone were to benefit from Patton’s many “family excursions”, it was Virgil. His attempts of reassuring the anxious side paled in comparison to Patton’s efforts. 

Logan, unlike the rest of them, did not need love or affection; nor was it necessary that he ‘bonded’ with anyone. He just needed to exist for everyone and live to exist for as long as he could. 

He was not real, anyway. 

(Though, the thought haunted him far more than he would like to admit.)

He snuck a brief glance at Patton, who was enthralled by Roman’s performance under the sun. It was almost as if the sunshine in the Imagination folded itself around him; like he was the one keeping it warm.

Patton seemed to thrive in the Imagination; and for good reason, too. He was everything the Imagination was; a safe haven, a home, alive. He could extend the observation to Roman, even Virgil. They all belonged here, rested on the grass underneath the brilliant sun.

Logan...did as well. 

The thought was hesitant—illogically so—but it was reassuring enough that it was there. Normally, he would think the opposite, but his counterparts only reassured him that that was not the case. He really did belong here, on the same pedestal as them; for reasons unrelated to work. 

He was a part of their silly...loving family.

And they were real enough; real enough that he was able to absentmindedly hold Patton’s hand as he coddled Virgil on his lap. He was real enough to look at Roman work his magic in this strange wonder of a world and feel a sense of pride for him.

He was real enough to feel close with them; even though there were times when it felt like he was better off uninvited.

Perhaps this was the meaning behind Patton’s madness. Perhaps it was his way of reassuring him that he, like the rest of the sides, were just simply loved; unconditionally and without a doubt. It is a feeling that, surprisingly enough, Logan held close to him.

No amount of research would ever be able to tell him why. 

He sighed, going back to his book and flipping to the next page. The Imagination, at the end of the day, was simply an enigma; constructed by weird science and magic alike. 

But his family...well, they turned the Imagination into a reminder of how special existence was; how delicate the universe crafted each and every one of them. 

How purposeful it was when creating him.

---

Aww, look at those bees playin’ with each other, Patton thought happily to himself. What good friends they are!

The Imagination was un-bee-lievable. The fact that his kiddo made the whole thing himself? He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been! He was so proud of him. 

He was proud of everyone, really; which was precisely why he planned this picnic! Roman created such a beautiful place, Logan worked so hard, and Virgil...well, he had finally said yes.

And besides, it was just nice. For once, there was nothing to do. No difficult thinking, no one to fight. It was just him and his family, sitting under the big, blue sky.

Surprisingly enough, this was the first time Patton ever visited the Imagination when it was sunny. More often than not, Patton would visit the Imagination after-hours; sneak in when he knew everyone was asleep. Most of the time, he’d get caught by Roman; who was just as restless as him, yet more curious as to why he was there. Patton would never tell him the real reason, though — only saying that he wanted to check in on him. It wasn’t really a lie, anyway. It was just the right thing to do.

The Imagination was different in the night. Patton was sure that he was one of the only other sides to have seen it. It felt more like an ode to Thomas’s youth; the years when he would tape glow-in-the-dark stars to his ceiling and try to catch fireflies in mason jars. Each daisy seemed to sway in the warm sense of familiarity the wind carried; and the ocean always looked like it was folding on top of each other in a sea of scribbles coloured Pacific, Navy, and Midnight Blue. 

If he squinted, Patton could see constellations in the sky. Dancing in the velvet blanket above him were stars, mapping out the image of a young boy helping someone off the ground after a nasty fall.

It was his perfect Thomas. Always selfless, always perfect.

On the nights when Roman would find him, sitting on top of a hill with his knees brought close to his chest, he would always let Patton lie down in his lap and weave him a fairytale; one that Thomas used to love. The prince would always save the day. The teacher would explain absolutely everything. The mind would never reel, and the heart was always right.

He couldn’t help but miss it. He missed the days when it seemed like royalty could be as honourable as the ones in Thomas’s old picture books; that learning was not as painful as it was now. And while the mind was buried through layers of heavy static and storm clouds, the heart didn’t know the way.

Thomas wasn’t as good as he wanted him to be, and Patton just didn’t know what to do. 

But all of that didn’t really matter in the Imagination. The fact that it was bright and sunny only meant that Thomas was the same goofy, loving child he used to be. Sure, a few things slip past Roman every now and then (Patton would never ever ever forget what those goblins did to his new top-hat), but that didn’t mean that Thomas was inherently bad. 

Besides, the day was just as beautiful as the night. With Thomas all grown up, he was creating things Patton could only dream of. Yes, storms would still roll around; but they would always give way to a beautiful rainbow. 

The Imagination was always the same, no matter what crossed its path. 

And perhaps, the same thing could be said about him.

Patton tried his best to get lost in the music Roman was playing for the group. He set aside his sandwich, and snuck glances at Virgil and Logan. They seemed at peace; Virgil was drinking tea he made for him, and Logan was reading a book. 

And if Roman was singing, it meant that Patton still had it in him to bring his family together. 

Patton sighed wistfully. He would do anything to capture this moment in any way he could. He wanted this single second to last forever. He yearned to keep the sunshine safe and sound in a small jar to put on his shelves. 

Really, he just wanted everyone to be happy. 

But as beautiful as nights in the Imagination were, Patton could learn to love the present if it felt this good. 

[penninstitute]

CASE #0180808-A

Statement of Collin Foster, regarding an incident involving his own near-drowning. Original statement given August 8th, 2018.

I just wanna start this off saying I know how to swim, okay? I'm not some idiot who jumped into a pool in the middle of the night without knowing how to swim or hold my breath at all, I was like, on the swim team for a year and a half. I was a capable swimmer, I just need you to know that.

I've always really enjoyed swimming, ever since I was little. My parents took me to the beach whenever they could, and my family always called me a fish or other stupid little pet names, like dolphin and stuff like that. Basically, I really fucking loved to swim, and I still do really fucking love to swim. It's fun! There's a certain kind of freedom that comes with it, y'know?

When I'm in the water, nothing can stop me. I can go in any direction, at whatever speed I want. All it takes for me to move is for me to kick, even just a little bit. I'm strong in the water, always have been.

Needless to say, when we moved to Monson and I found out my new school had a pool and a swim team, I was pretty fucking pumped. I signed up almost right away, was pretty quick to get involved with the team, and not to brag, but I think I was probably one of the most skilled swimmers on the team. That's probably not hard compared to freshmen, but it felt good at the time.

One thing about this pool, though, was that it had super strict times for use outside of practice. There was a three-hour free swim period on Saturdays and Sundays, and nobody was allowed to use it during the school day. The area was fenced off with a big shitty lock on the gate, and kids were always getting caught trying to sneak into the pool area while they were skipping class or whatever it is they did.

I don't know if other kids just hadn't thought about it, or if it was kept quiet for fear of alerting the school staff, but one May afternoon I finally had the bright idea to break in at night. I'd been trying to figure out a way to get more use out of that pool for weeks, and I finally decided to just sneak out to see if I could get in.

Sneaking out hasn't ever been a problem for me, really, so I made it to the school, obviously. I didn't even bother trying to pick the lock, I just climbed the chain-link fence, and was in. No staff were there to stop me.

I'd gotten in! That was what mattered at the time. It was a pretty standard pool, big and rectangular with diving blocks at one end, buoys separating the lanes, ladders and steps into the water, the strong smell of chlorine--the usual, really. I mean, I used the pool. It was fine, nothing was wrong with the place. I'd been swimming in that pool all year, it was fine. I can't stress enough just how normal my first visit was, there was the anxiety of getting caught, but otherwise it was absolutely fine.

I left after about an hour, and it was my little secret. I kept doing it over the next few months, and once school let out and they opened up the pool to everyone over the summer, I kept going on my nightly visits. Nobody was stopping me, so at that point they either didn't care, or still didn't know.

It wasn't supposed to be a long visit, but I'd had a shitty day. It was July 6th, work sucked, my parents weren't helping--not that they ever do. Regardless, I wanted to swim, and I wanted to swim alone, so I waited until my parents were asleep, grabbed a towel and my phone, and headed out. Drove to the school, snuck in per usual, and… nothing seemed off at the time, but thinking back on it, it was darker than it should've been in the parking lot.

Once I got into the pool, it was so much more evident. The pool lights were dim when I turned them on, and none of the other lights would turn on. I dunno what I attributed it to at the time, faulty wiring or something? I don't know, it was something stupid like that, though.

I mean, I swam. It was perfectly fine for a while, I did laps across the pool to get out all the frustration. I screamed underwater, which was nice. It… was a normal visit, for most of it.

I was just doing laps, and I went deeper than usual when I did my flip-turn, and when I kicked to reach the surface, I… didn't.

I wasn't going deeper, I wasn't just not kicking hard enough, there just wasn't a surface, all of a sudden. There isn't any other way to explain it, there was just nothing but water above me, all of a sudden. It took me a few seconds to realize that. I mean, obviously I panicked. I kept kicking to try to get up to the surface, but the water only got darker around me. I could still see the bottom of the pool, could see the pool lights around me, could see the walls of the pool, even, but there just… wasn't a surface.

The pool got smaller and deeper all at once, somehow. I could see all of the walls, the pool went from being several dozen feet across to only about ten feet across.

I mean. Once I realized what was wrong, I just kind of… floated there for a few seconds. I didn't know what to do. I'm good at holding my breath, because you kind of have to be good at that if you swim a lot, but I knew it'd run out eventually.

I decided to keep trying to find the surface, because there had to be a surface, right? But when I kicked, the only thing that happened was the water grew darker around me, and I think it might've been the kicking that dimmed the lights. I didn't realize that until the lights were completely out, and then I couldn't see anything anymore.

I tried to go to one of the walls, but I had barely started swimming when I knocked my shoulder into one, and my foot into another. It had gotten smaller, somehow. I couldn't reach the floor, and now that I think about it, there may not have been one at all.

It was pitch black, and a little cramped--I only had about 6 feet on each side of the pool.

I think it had been about two minutes when I realized I still wasn't breathing. I couldn't breathe, probably just because my body didn't want to inhale water, but the breath I was holding was lasting so much longer than it should have.

I didn't know what to do. I just curled up and waited, for a while, in the darkness and the cramped space.

It got colder. The water turned freezing after a while. I didn't know if that changed anything, but I was still holding my breath and still waiting.

Something was in there with me.

I don't know what, but I could feel it, after a while. Something was just below me, would always be just below me, in the freezing water, waiting. It was awful and waiting and watching me, and I was out in the open where it could see me. It was right under me, I felt it, something colder than the water and slippery, wrapping itself around my ankles. I screamed, I think. That was what let out my breath.

The moment the air left my lungs, my chest began to burn. Everything hurt, I was just floating there in water that was too heavy and too dark, and something was pulling me down. I don't know how the pressure changed so quickly, but one minute I was just floating there, and the next I was being crushed from all sides by the water itself. I couldn't breathe, there was too much pressure on me to even try to move, I was just being pulled down and down and down and down and

Sorry. It was

I don't know what it was. I mean, scary, obviously. I just don't know how to describe that feeling.

And that thing slithered up my legs, cold and slimy and disgusting, wrapping itself around my chest and arms and throat and it began to constrict like a fucking snake, like I was its next big meal, and I… couldn't do anything. The pressure already hurt, but this hurt more. I think it cracked a rib or two, but I didn't really notice in the moment.

There was water all around me, but there was so much pressure. It was just closing in on all sides, and this creature was only making it worse. I couldn't breathe, could barely move my arms and legs. Turning my head took too much effort. It was just pitch black water closing in and constricting me, pressure and weight I couldn't get rid of. Just darkness, pressing in on all sides.

I couldn't get the creature off of me. I could barely move at all, to be fair, but this thing wouldn't let go, it just kept squeezing.

Eventually, I think it may have been cutting off circulation enough to the point where limbs were starting to lose feeling. I… thought I was gonna die there, I mean. There was no conceivable way out, right? There shouldn't have been a way out of that.

There wasn't any way it was a hallucination. I… there's no way. The pain, and afterwards, I just… it was real. It had to be. I would've died, I was convinced I was going to die, there was no way out of it.

That thing had settled across my body and was still fucking pressing down, but I think I took a breath.

I breathed in the water. It burned in my nose, in my lungs, but it didn't hurt as much as the pressure, I guess. I breathed in, and suddenly my head broke the surface, and I was at the edge of the pool in the middle of the night.

I mean, I got out of the water pretty damn quickly after that. Coughed up water for a solid few minutes, and just sat on the edge of the water, breathing and staring at it. I wanted to disregard the whole thing as a hallucination or dream, but there were… bruises? I don't know what else to describe them as.

Black marks all over my bare skin, covering my chest and back and arms. They didn't come off, and even now they haven't really faded. They kind of have a scale pattern, I think. Like something left its imprint on me, like when you use ink to look at your fingerprint.

I mean, that's it, really. I snuck back home and didn't tell my parents what had happened. I haven't set foot in that pool since. Or any pool, actually. I think I'm done with swimming for a while.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

- Collin Foster went missing in February, 2019. He is unavailable for a follow-up on this statement, and his parents refuse to speak to Institute staff.

- Pool at Monson High School, Massachusetts, is an indoor pool, not an outdoor pool as described here, though does have restricted hours as described.

- No faculty members were willing to speak to Institute staff.

[jchb32273]

Fictober 2019 - Day 4

Fanfiction - Dragon Age AO3 Link

Slight trigger warning for language 

I know it’s a bit late... this one turned out a bit longer than the previous days!

Hope you enjoy!

I know you didn’t ask for this

~~~~~

It was 3 pm on Friday and I was glad the weekend was here. I was walking back towards my dorm with Leliana when I heard my name being called.

“Kylara!”

I turned to see Alistair running up to me, looking a bit flustered.

“Hello, Alistair. What’s going on?”

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, then said, “Maric is hosting one of his ‘oh so important dinners’ at his house tonight… and I had almost forgotten about it!”

I blinked a few times. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Ah… well, it is sort of required for me to… bring someone.” He rubbed the back of his neck in an awkward gesture. “I know it’s last minute… and I totally understand if you have other plans…”

“Of course she’d love to go,” Leliana piped up as she elbowed me in the ribs. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, um… I guess?” My cheeks were pink. “I mean… I don’t… have any other… plans.”

“Great!” He leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “You are a lifesaver, Kylara! I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?” He then ran off.

I groaned. “Leliana! What have you done?! I don’t have the first clue how to act at one of those type of dinners! I don’t even have anything fancy to wear!”

“Well, it is a good thing I just got my paycheck! Let’s go shopping!”

Two hours later, we were back in our dorm room with several bags worth of items. Leli had dragged me from store to store to look at dresses, shoes, undergarments (to my utter embarrassment), and makeup. After making all the purchases, I blanched at what she’d just spent on me.

“How am I going to pay you back for all this, Leliana! This is so much stuff!”

“Don’t worry about that now! You have a date we must get you ready for!! Oh, this is SO exciting!” She unwrapped the burgundy satin dress from the thin, clear plastic bag the salesclerk had wrapped it in. “You and Alistair have become quite close, no?” She giggled. “And to think you didn’t want to go to that party two months ago! Now, look at you!”

“I have only seen him a handful of times since the party. We are… friends. Sort of… Nothing more!”

“Friends, hmm?” She gave me a sly smile. “Well, I happened to hear from Morrigan, who got it from Fenris, who was told directly from Bull, that you were alone at his place about two weeks ago? Hmm? You also came back into our room quite late that same night, if I remember correctly.”

“I was there to study for my biochemistry test… and then he took me out to dinner afterwards.”

“Ooh! Dinner?! I bet it was really romantic! Alistair just strikes me as that type of man…”

I thought back to that night. What had started as a simple study session, then ended with a stupid fight (that I had started) over grilled cheese sandwiches… After helping Alistair put out a fire in his condo, he had taken me to a very romantic restaurant. It was completely innocent though, my inner-voice justified. Just cheese fondue… and wine… My cheeks felt hot. “I think I should just get ready,” I mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” Leliana gushed. “We have much to do to get you beautiful!”

After a half-hour practicing walking in the high heeled shoes Leli has insisted on, I was not falling down anymore… but I was still wobbling quite a bit.

“Do I have to wear these ridiculous shoes? I am going to make a fool of myself, I just know it!”

“But all you have are sneakers, Kylara! You can’t wear sneakers with a gown!” she admonished.

“Don’t you have any flats I can wear?”

“I wear a size smaller than you, Kylara, so I don’t think that would work.” She sighed. “Look, once you are in the house, you will probably be sitting down to eat. You’ll be fine!” She glanced at her watch. “Look, it’s almost seven. Let’s get out to the lobby of the dorm.

Heads turned as I walked (wobbled) out into the dorm common room. I heard people talking behind my back. Most of the whispers had people wondering what I was so dressed up for, and there were several cruel comments about my pale skin and chubby body.

“Ignore them,” Leliana said as she saw me taking a slight step backwards. “I think you look lovely.”

Just then, the front door opened and Alistair walked in dressed in a full, form-fitting tuxedo.

Maker’s Breath but he is stunning!

My knees were shaking and I was sure my face was bright red. Alistair saw Leli and me and walked over to us, a huge smile on his face.

“Kylara, you look… beautiful.”

Now the comments behind me took on an angrier tone.

What is she doing with him?

How did that fat geek get a date with the single most handsome man in Denerim?!

What the fuck does he see in her?

She’s gotta be sleeping with him, otherwise, why would he bother?

Alistair must have heard a few of these comments because he glared around the room and all grew quiet. Smiling at me again, he took my arm into his and said, “I’ll take it from here, Leliana. Thank you.”

“Have fun, you two!” Leli grinned and blew kisses at us both.

We walked outside the dorm and a blast of cold winter air hit me. “Oh, it’s freezing out here! I don’t have a coat!”

“Don’t worry,” Alistair said. “The car is right here and the heater is already on.”

I glanced up to see a stretch limo parked on the street and my mouth gaped open. As soon as he saw us, the driver quickly got out and opened the door for us.

“Thanks, Blackwall.” Alistair assisted me in the car, then slid in beside me. Blackwall shut the door, then got behind the wheel.

“Y-you hired a limousine for tonight?” I squeaked out.

Alistair smirked. “No, it’s Maric’s car. I would have driven my own, but he’s all about impressing people at these dinners… so he insisted I use the limo to come and pick you up.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage to say. “Ah, what does he know about me?”

“I haven’t had the time to tell him much. He knows that you are a year behind me and that you go to the same school. I also told him you are very smart and pretty.”

I looked down at the floor of the car. “Alistair, I am not pretty.”

He turned in the butter-soft leather seat to face me, then used his fingers to gently tilt my head back up. “Yes, you are. You should stop doubting yourself.” He smiled at me. “Is that a new dress?”

“Um… yes. Leli took me shopping after you… invited me.”

“The color is striking on you. I noticed right away when I picked you up tonight. However, we might want to…” He reached up and gave a tug on something on the shoulder strap. I heard a muffled snap and then he held out the price tag of the dress to me.

Mortified, I took the tag and quickly stuffed it into the handbag that Leli had loaned me for tonight.

Alistair put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t fret over it, Kylara. Stuff like that happens more often than you think, even amongst the wealthy.”

Perhaps, I thought bitterly. But I am sure they pay a lot more than 75 sovereigns for a dress.

Just then the limo pulled up to a massive mansion. Nauseous butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Ohh… what have I gotten myself into?! Blackwall opened the door and Alistair exited first, then held out his hand to me… an encouraging smile on his face.

I carefully stepped out of the limo, but my ankle wobbled in the heels again and I stumbled a bit. Alistair quickly scooped his arm around my waist and steadied me. I saw what I assumed to be disapproving frowns on other dinner guests who were slowly making their way to the front doors of the mansion, and my face flamed red again.

“Come on now,” Alistair linked his arm with mine. “Let’s head on in.”

At the front doors, there was a huge qunari standing there, nodding and greeting guests as they arrived. He didn’t have horns on his head like Bull, but he still looked very stern and serious.

“Evening Sten,” Alistair greeted him.

Sten nodded once and then said, “Your father is waiting for you in his study. I was told to tell you to report to him as soon as you arrived.”

“Very well, thank you.”

Sten nodded once again and then turned to face the next arriving guests.

Alistair took a deep breath, then said, “Well, let’s get this over with.”

At the study doors, Alistair knocked once, then twice. The doors were opened by a very handsome, tall, blond-haired man. His blue eyes twinkled. He quickly grabbed Alistair’s hand, pulled him into a quick bear-hug, and gave him a thump on the back.

“Al, you little devil. How are you this evening!”

Alistair gave a half-smile. “Cailan.” He then took my hand and led me up to his half-brother. “May I present my half-brother, Cailan. Cailan may I introduce my companion for the evening, Kylara Amell.”

“Pleasure to meet you, young lady,” Cailan said with a wide grin as he shook my hand. “Though I’ll admit, Al hasn’t said much about you. How long have you been together?”

“Oh… um… We aren’t. Together, I mean. We’re just friends… from school.”

“Just friends?” Cailan eyed Alistair with curiosity. “I was sure that after the incident with Ellie Cousland that you’d get right back into- ”

Alistair shook his head. “Now isn’t the time to discuss that, Cailan. Please, just drop it.”

Another set of doors in the office then opened and another tall, blond-haired man strode out – though his hair was greying at the temples. The air of authority he had around him made me take a few steps behind Alistair for protection.

“Then when will be the time, son?”

“Maric.”

Maric immediately frowned and I saw Alistair wince. “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me by my given name.”

“Fine…” Alistair gritted out. “Father.”

“That’s better.” Maric then looked behind Alistair, where I was trying not to cower, but failing. “And who is this young lady here? Is she the one you told me about this afternoon?”

“Yes… father. This is my companion for this evening, Kylara Amell.” He gently tugged my hand to bring me closer. “Kylara, may I present my father, Maric Theirin.”

Maric took my hand and gave it a squeeze. His eyes raked coolly over me and in that moment I knew I had been judged… and deemed unworthy. He let go of my hand and then said without looking at me a second time said, “Nice to meet you.” He then gave what I figured to be a curious glance at Alistair before quickly changing the subject. “There are a lot of influential people here tonight, Alistair. I hope you make the most of it and greet them all.”

I saw Alistair give a faint nod. “Yes, sir.”

“All right, let’s all head down for cocktails. Dinner will be at 8:30 sharp.”

Maric quickly strode off. Cailan followed but briefly turned around to me. “Nice to have met you, Miss Kylara. Do enjoy yourself this evening.” He then turned back and jogged a few steps to catch up to his father.

Alistair sagged slightly against the nearby wall.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

He took a quick breath, stood back up straight and muttered, “Fine. Just dandy.” He caught my concerned look and then gave a weak smile. “Come,” he said and took my arm. “I think I could use a good stiff drink right about now.”

Back downstairs, the bartender asked what I’d like.

“Sex on the Beach,” I said quickly.

“I beg your pardon!” he exclaimed.

Alistair chuckled. “Ah, how about a Sidecar for the lady, and I’ll take a Whiskey Sour.”

“Yes, sir. Very good, sir.”

Our drinks were quickly made and handed to us. Alistair then gently led me away from the bar. I took a sip of what he ordered for me. It wasn’t too bad. Then I glanced up at him. “Did I do something wrong back there?”

He smiled and said, “This isn’t like a club or a college bar, so a lot of drinks you may be used to aren’t going to be available. Mar- ” he paused for a brief second. “My… father… only carries the high-end spirits and liquors.” He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I don’t think Maric would know what Peach Schnapps was if it came and bit him in the ass.”

I giggled at his comment but quickly stopped when I saw disapproving stares from some of the other guests.

Alistair lead me around the room as people mingled and chatted quietly. He gently pointed out several high profile people.

“That man over there,” he indicated a dwarf with a very hairy chest and wearing gold chains on his neck, “is Varric Tethras. He is an accomplished author renowned throughout Thedas. Most of his stories concern themselves with outcasts and tragic mistakes. Have you read any of his books?”

I shook my head, but said, “I know Leliana has both ‘Hard in Hightown’ and ‘Swords and Shields’. Maybe I’ll borrow them from her now.”

“Over there,” he carefully pointed at a stern woman with cropped black hair and a scar on her left cheek, “is Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast.”

“So many names?” I commented quietly.

“She is, or was Nevarran royalty. Now she is Right Hand of the Divine and Seeker for the Chantry.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t really sure what all of that meant, so I just nodded slightly.

Alistair also pointed out both Empress Celene and Duke Gaspard, both from Orlais, and the Prime Minister herself, Anora.

So many powerful people in the room, my head began to spin. So many things I could possibly say or do that could easily offend any one of these people. My legs began to tremble. I really don’t belong here…

Alistair noticed my discomfort. “Are you all right, Kylara? You look a bit pale.”

“I… I think I just need to sit down… for a bit.”

He nodded and began escorting me to some chairs in the corner of the room. Just then, a thin, tanned elf with blond hair tied back in a queue came up to us.

“Zevran,” Alistair said with mild surprise. “I thought your business with Maric had been completed already.”

Zevran gave an oily smile. “What can I say? My services are apparently in high demand.” His eyes then drifted over me. “Ah, and who is your charming companion this evening?”

Keeping one arm around my waist to hold me steady, he quietly said, “This is Kylara. Kylara, Zevran is a… business associate… of my father’s.”

Zevran picked up my hand and kissed it, though his eyes didn’t leave my face. “Zevran Arainai, at your service, dulce doncella.”

His accent had me curious. “Where are you from, Mr. Arainai?”

He flashed a bright grin at me. “Oh, no Mr. Arainai. That is far too formal for me, yes? Just call me… Zev.”

“Zev?”

Alistair quickly spoke up. “Zevran will be just fine.”

Zevran gave a short laugh. “As you wish. As for your earlier question, I hail from Antiva. Antiva City, to be precise.”

My mouth formed a small ‘o’, then I asked, “Isn’t that the country that has that secretive organization, The Crows?”

Zevran’s eyes glinted, “Oh? And what exactly do you know of such things?”

Alistair stepped in. “Probably nothing more than what local tabloids and gossip magazines have spread, right, Kylara?” He gave my waist a slight squeeze, but I saw Zevran’s eyes dart down and then back up to us.

“Uh… y-yes. Just gossip magazines,” I mumbled.

“I see.” Zevran’s lips were thin, but one corner curled mischievously. “It was nice to have met you, Kylara. Alistair? Give your father my regards.” He bowed once, then left us.

Alistair let out a soft breath. Making sure that Zevran was out of earshot, he then muttered, “I really don’t trust him.”

As we continued our way to the chairs, I trembled again. “I made another mistake, didn’t I?”

We sat down together on a small setteé. “There are rumors,” he began, speaking very softly, “that Zevran is a high ranking person in The Crows.”

Aghast, I whispered, “They don’t really assassinate people anymore… do they?”

“I don’t know. But I would definitely not mention it any more this night.”

Fearfully, I nodded.

“I am going to get us another drink. Will you be all right here by yourself?”

“I… should be.” Alistair got up, but I caught his wrist. “Please, hurry back, okay?”

He smiled and nodded, then left.

Suddenly, Zevran reappeared and swiftly sat down next to me. I tried to remember to breathe.

“You would do well to heed this advice, Kylara.” The way he said my name gave me chills. “You are out of your league here. You should go back to your dorm and put any more thoughts about Alistair Theirin out of your pretty little head. He is not for you.”

Trembling, I managed to stutter out, “W-we’re just fr-friends. That’s all.”

Zevran put his arm around my shoulders and leaned in closer. “Ah, but you see, that is just the thing. Friends can become much more. So were I you, I’d find some reason to tell him you are no longer interested in being ‘friends’… or better yet, perhaps you should consider changing schools, yes?” He got up, graceful and fluid, then before my eyes, vanished into the shadows.

I glanced all around the room. No one else had apparently seen this. Had I just imagined that whole scenario? I then noticed I was clenching something in my hand. I carefully opened it… to reveal a tiny origami crow.

Alistair returned shortly and handed me a large glass of red wine. After the scenario with Zevran and finding the tiny paper crow, I had stuffed it into the crevice of the setteé. I took a few deep calming breaths to try and settle my jangling nerves. Can’t let him know that anything is amiss. Just need to get through the rest of this evening… then I can work out what I will do.

“You are doing better?” he asked.

I took a sip of the wine and replied, “I’m fine.”

“Well, that is good.” He held out his hand and helped me to stand. “Come now, it is time for dinner.”

Dinner was an utter disaster. For one thing, I wasn’t seated next to Alistair, but all the way at the opposite end of the table. I could barely see him at the far end, seated near Maric and Cailan. Secondly, I looked at the place settings and wondered why there were so many utensils on the table.

I grabbed a piece of bread out of a basket and began nibbling on it, trying to calm myself again, only to get frowns of disapproval from the high-end guests seated near me. It was then that I noticed that no one was eating anything yet. They were patiently waiting for Maric to begin.

I tried to slowly set the roll back on my plate but accidentally dropped it. It bounced off my lap and onto the floor somewhere under my chair.

A few moments later, the first dish was now being served. A covered plate was placed in front of me and then opened to reveal some type of shellfish, still in its shell, with a green sauce covering it. I grabbed the nearest fork to me and stabbed it into the shell, not realizing that they were all sitting on a bed of coarse salt. Salt granules scattered off of my plate and went all over the table.

“What do you think you are doing?” It was the woman Alistair had introduced as Cassandra. Her Nevarran accent thick, she scowled. “Have you no manners?!”

Mortified, I put the big fork down, then realized that all the guests were using the smallest fork that had been at the end of the lineup of utensils. I murmured quietly, “I-I’ve just never been to a dinner… such as this.”

Her voice dripped with disdain. “That much is obvious.”

I wanted to vanish, but instead decided I’d be better off just trying to get this meal over with as soon as possible. I picked up the delicate fork and this time carefully pierced the meat. I had never eaten anything like it before, but since everyone else seemed to be enjoying it, I figured I should at least try it. It tasted salty and rich. I chewed carefully then swallowed. Deciding I didn’t care for it, I set the tiny fork down and decided to wait for the next course.

Several minutes later the shellfish plates were cleared and the next covered dish was set in front of me. The lid was lifted and what I saw made me blanch. It was clearly raw meat, and on top of that was a tiny uncooked egg yolk.

“Um…” I tugged on the sleeve of one of the men serving. “I think my dish wasn’t cooked?”

“Mademoiselle, that is steak tartare. It is supposed to be raw.”

Raw fish I could handle, as I loved sushi… but raw beef? My stomach churned. As the other guests were eating the meal and I saw the egg yolk running down the plate, I knew it was too much. I quickly got up, but in my haste, I knocked over my wine glass.

“My dress!” Cassandra cried. “You clumsy girl!”

I could take no more. I stumbled away from the table. My high heel pierced the dinner roll that had been under my chair, causing me to trip. But I managed to get away and to the bathroom before I vomited on the floor.

From the other end of the table, Alistair saw what had happened and tried to get up.

“Sit… down,” Maric commanded.

“But… I need to see if she is all right.”

“You don’t need to do anything but stay right here.”

Alistair glared at his father. He put his napkin down, pushed his chair back and stood up. “Please accept my apologies, everyone,” he said crisply to the guests. Then he got up and walked off.

I heard a knock on the bathroom door. From outside Alistair spoke, “Kylara? Are you all right?” There was a pause and then, “May I come in?”

Weakly, I replied, “Yes.”

The door opened slowly and Alistair walked in. He saw me sitting on the floor of the bathroom. Red splotches covered my skin.

Alistair knelt down next to me. “Oh! W-what happened!”

“I… I think I am allergic to whatever that shellfish was.”

“Oysters. They were oysters.” He held my hand. “Will you be okay?” “I think so… I only ate one.” I didn’t mention that I had thrown it up. “I have antihistamines back at the dorm.”

He stood up and then helped me up. “Let’s get you back home then.”

We rode back to the college in the limo in silence, then I finally said, “I’m sorry I ruined your fancy dinner.”

“You didn’t ruin it. After we left, I am sure that they continued on as if nothing had even happened.”

“But… I ruined Cassandra’s dress. She will probably insist I buy her a new one!”

“No. She won’t. I’m sure Maric will have already taken care of it.”

I held back a sob. “Your father doesn’t like me, does he?”

Alistair scoffed. “Maric doesn’t like anyone much. Don’t worry about what he thinks. I still like you, Kylara. Very much.”

I turned to look at the scenery blurring by the limo windows. I wiped a tear off of my cheek. “Why?” I asked quietly, “What is so special about me?”

“You are not like any other girl I have ever known. You are quiet, sweet, smart. You are also fiery, passionate about what you believe in…”

I smiled a little, even as another tear fell. “Even when I argue about the perfect grilled cheese?”

He chuckled. “Especially then.” He was silent for a moment, then said, “I want to continue being your friend.”

I thought back to what had happened with Zevran and the threat he had delivered. I shivered. “I… I don’t think it is a good idea, Alistair.”

“What? Why?” He sounded surprised… and a little hurt.

“I know you didn’t ask for this, but you were born into privilege… and with that comes specific obligations.” I let out a sigh. “I am not like the people who were there at the party tonight. I made a fool of myself in front of them all. We are two very different individuals, Alistair… and I don’t belong.” My chest felt heavy. “Not with them… and not with you.”

The limo pulled to a stop outside of my dorm. Without waiting for Blackwall to open it, I got out and began slowly walking to the side entrance to the dorm. I didn’t want to face anyone who might still be in the lobby. Suddenly my ankle wobbled and I fell to my knees. “Curse these fucking shoes!” I took them off and threw them into a nearby bush. Then I began to cry.

A moment later, I felt Alistair place his tux jacket on my shoulders. “Come on now, Kylara. Let me help you up.” Weakly, I accepted his hands as he pulled me to my feet. He walked me to the door, then finally asked, “Kylara, please. I know you think we have nothing in common, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I will give you some space for the moment, but I hope that you will reconsider.” He leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Give me a call or text whenever you feel ready, all right?”

I could only nod in silence. I then scanned my student id on the door panel and walked into the building. The lights were off in the hallway and when the glass door closed, I could see Alistair standing there with his hand on the door. Then he turned and slowly walked away with his shoulders slumped.

Fortunately, Leli was not in our room to cross-examine me about tonight. I sat down on the edge of my bed and it was then that I realized I still had Alistair’s tux jacket on my shoulders. I carefully took it off and then cradled it in my arms. When I held it up, I could smell his scent on it. I held it close to my nose and inhaled, then hugged it to my chest as fresh tears began to fall.