#these aren't meant to be super long so like......... it wont be the best

[delsinsrowes]

Character: Lorelei Lavellan

Prompt: Out of the 7 deadly sins, which one is your oc most guilty of?

To those who simply called her the Inquisitor and knew her achievements to be sealing the rift, she was calm. Scarily so some have come to say. Many see her as a woman of little emotion, knowing her job and doing it quickly and correctly. However, to those who really know her they see a side that is not put together, not pretty, not silent and strong. 

A few nights after Iron Bull almost lost his Chargers, Lorelei found herself in the cozy room dedicated to her in Skyhold. Her bed was ornate, one of the few things she put a lot of money into that was for herself - white all along the headboard and base with golden details. She was told that it was Orlesian, but cared little of the origin. Her hands slid over the silken sheets cresting the edge of her bed. They were a deep red. The sun was setting, and the air was getting cold. 

I should close the balcony doors, she thought to herself. Her legs wouldn’t move though. Her hands were gripping the sheets so hard that she felt her nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm. She chose to save The Bull’s Chargers, but it still somehow felt like the wrong decision, and she hated that. There was a lot that she hated. She hated Iron Bull for making her choose, she hated the Inquisition for putting her in this position of power, she hated the rift for simply being there, she hated Corypheys for his stupid fucking plan of becoming a god, she hated the very concept of a god, she hated everyone who followed her for being so willing and stupid and blind, but most of all, she hated herself.

Her back made a heavy thunk sound as it slumped along the edge of her bed. She couldn’t control herself, her body shaking as she started screaming and pulling her hair. She didn’t care much if anyone heard, why would she? So they could rush up to her and make sure she was okay? To ask if the mark was fine? She was a glorified tool and she knew it, but it hurt. She felt a dull pain in her chest. Longing or maybe loneliness, they sat in the same part of her. In the darks of her eyes, the tips of her fingertips, and the soles of her feet. She wanted to be away from everyone, but she’s grown attached and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted to kill everyone if it meant that she could stop feeling so dependent and weak.

Lorelei sat there, the heels of her hands pressed so deeply into the sockets of her eyes that whenever she looked up she saw stars. Then, she saw Cole, sitting on the railing of her balcony looking towards her with interest.

“What do you want?” She had sounded so angry, the words short when they left her mouth, not like herself at all - or maybe too much like herself. She couldn’t find it in her to figure out which one or to care.

“I want you to be alright. You are filled with rage, a demon would think of you as a friend in this state.” His leg sways slightly when speaking.

Lorelei chuckles, but it’s a dry sound that gets caught in her throat. “Maybe I am a demon. One crawled in my skin and now I’m just a puppet leading everyone to their inevitable end.” She looked away from him as she spoke, knowing that she sounded utterly pitiful.

“Many meet their ends with the Inquisition, and many more will. Death is all encompassing, discriminating against no one and clutching to those who are willing, and especially those who are not. Screams and sighs of relief are music to its ears. The difference is that you care.”

Her head snaps up to Cole after hearing him say that. She stands to her feet quickly, even if they shake.

“That is precisely the difference! There are people dying all around me, and for what?! Because I gave an order? Because I didn’t?! I am one woman, Cole! I am single-handedly leading these people to their deaths all because I have this mark on my hand that I didn’t even want! They call me the Herald knowing that whatever gods they pray to will never hear their name on my lips! I want it to be anyone else, if they wanted to die for something so fucking badly I will make a simple decison and let them go. Just, anything so they will not look at me anymore!” She was trembling, her voice was raw and hoarse. Her silver hair, normally up in a non-fanciful but delicate bun was undone and wild; parts sticking in every direction. To anyone else she may have looked mad, she surely sounded it. But Cole looked at her, and then looked deeper.

She was mad, but just that. Angry. Ironically so and he could almost laugh about it. She was so fearful that she held so much power, that she was leading these people to die, that she would blindly kill them to get away. Her fear turns to anger quickly, he learned that about her soon after meeting her. She was very still and quiet, but forceful when needed. It was different from the way Josephine and her nobles were though, there was a wildness to Lorelei, something that let her detach from the politics and games that everyone played. Many saw her as selfish, but Cole just knew that she was self-reliant and perhaps didn’t have anyone else.

He went to her, she was seething, breathing heavily and eyes red. Cole held out his hand to her and stated simply, “You do nothing single-handedly. I will look at you as nothing but a friend. Your title means very little when I know that you don’t want it.” He reaches for both hands that lay at her side, taking her left and placing it in his. He waited for a long time, until slowly she squeezed his hand. Then, she’s falling back to her knees and Cole doesn’t quite catch her before she hits the ground, so he sinks with her and holds her hand the whole time.

“Why am I so angry and why do I care that others do not see it?” She looks up at Cole slowly, gripping his hands as if he was her only hope. Maybe, Cole thought, he was.

He looks down at her hands, calloused but still somehow so soft. Very her. Very Lorelei.

“You do care. You care so much it wells up in you like a fire. Or perhaps, like snow. Falling lightly until it isn’t. Until it’s too heavy and you cannot take it. You were alone for a very long time. Nights spent freezing and alone, the stars your only guide and your skills your only savior. You are not used to being relied on, much less looking to others. You are angry because you feel like you are both too much and not enough.” He looks at her deeply, trying to look past her eyes and into whatever part of her soul was willing to listen. 

“You can breathe. The world is reliant on you,” he notices how she tenses for a moment, “and you’re allowed to hate that.”

Lorelei’s eyes dart around Cole’s face, not knowing what she was searching for. Familiarity and understanding is all she finds. Then she cries, not the deep rage-filled cry of before; a soft one. A different vulnerability from the one before. Instead of being afraid of not being able to keep everything in she was now afraid of what would happen if she did. She pulls her hands from Cole’s and hugs him, hands pulling at the back of his shirt until the fabric was balling up in her palms. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t like being touched, not because she didn’t like it or because she liked it too much, but because it was a reminder that things were real. It wasn’t a dream. Every handshake from a noble or hug from someone who’s life she saved it reminded her that she means something. So she clung to Cole like he meant something and cried until she couldn’t breathe out of her nose and her throat hurt.

“Do you feel any better?” Cole spoke after awhile. Never pushing her to stop or encouraging that everything would be okay. He just let her be angry and sad and herself. His hand rested on the top of her back, lingering, but not expecting.

Lorelei pulls away from him, not looking him in the eye due to being embarrassed and because her eyes were so puffy she probably couldn’t see him if she wanted.

“I feel lighter. I feel more like myself and less like a demon.” She flops down onto her bed with a pitiful sigh. “Thank you. I am very fortunate to know you Cole.” Her words were muffled between the sheets of the bed, but she was sincere.

“I very much understand that relief. I am always here for you, Lorelei. Many people are, but when your anger becomes the biggest part of you I am here to be a friend.” Cole stands to leave but stops when Lorelei speaks.

“And when my anger isn’t? What then?” Her voice is rough from crying, making her sound anxious, or perhaps she was.

“Even then. Especially then. I know you find comfort in your anger. So I will be there when you are happy, or sad, or incredibly embarrassed.”

Lorelei laughs, a real laugh this time and slowly makes her way underneath the heavy cloth of her bedding. She lays there for a long time even in her exhaustion, she just kept staring at the mountains cresting the top of the world. Instead of her hating everyone and bristling with rage she just looks. After a long while she closes her eyes and enjoys the sensation of the wind rushing through her room. In the morning she would be woken with papers to look over and orders to give, but until then, she committed the sound of a quiet world to memory.