Real. He’s real. It takes everything in her to focus on that one small thing. On Dovev. The fractured pieces of her delirious consciousness cannot seem to tie the shadow creature insisting she come to the small blue and white child she had once known. But then it does not matter anymore.
She stumbles when her feet hit loamy sand instead of frozen rock, knees trembling from the sudden shift. Already she had struggled to remain standing, her normally slender frame so sickly thin, wasted from disease, from the effort of growing a child. Her chest heaves beneath the change in pressure, a bone-deep cough wracking her too thin body. Her legs give way beneath her and she crumples to the earth. Pain ripples across her stomach, and for the first time in ages, she knows true fear.
Her body is too weak to sustain her baby anymore.
She remembers. A promise made. “Find… Woolf,” she gasps, blood spraying the ground before her.
Were they safe? She couldn’t remember. She only remembers the earth fracturing around her as she’d given everything to keep that isle. Paint it red. How had she gotten here?
Dovev. He’s touching her, running worried lips along the swell of her stomach. Her breath rattles ominously in her chest as she struggles to draw air. “Take… care of… him,” she manages to whisper. She couldn’t lose another child. Wouldn’t. Even if she had to give her own life for it, she’d see him safely into this world. Dovev would never let anything happen to him. She does not have faith in much, but she has faith in that.
She doesn’t even notice the golden mare, not at first. Not until warmth floods her veins and bolsters her flagging strength. The breath eases in her chest, the rattle lessening to a faint rasp. Her blue eyes lift in time to see the second woman join them. Leliana.
She had caused her so much pain, and still she gives her aid. She had always been a much better woman than Heartfire could ever hope to be.
She cannot think of it now. Not when her body still echoes with disease and exhaustion, when pain dulls the edge of her senses. But then she sees Luster and her heart seizes in her chest. She struggles to rise, only to collapse back into the sand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this.
She was supposed to save her from pain. Instead she’d shattered her entire world. She must hate her now for everything she has done. For everything she is. She needs to leave, to get away.
It was never supposed to be like this.
She doesn’t have the strength to push her away when Luster curls up beside her. After everything, still she comes and offers only love. The brittle edges of her very soul begin crack. Would Luster even believe her if she said she loves her?
It’s too much. Her features break as she collapses against her sister, as she presses her face against the soft blue of her neck. “I’m sorry Luster,” she whispers brokenly. “So, so sorry.” She doesn’t know how long she stays pressed against her sister. Time seems to have lost all meaning.
The healer’s energy is doing its job, and as her body begins the regain its strength, so too does her mind. It’s too soon, much too soon. Her child shouldn’t be coming yet. She needs up, needs to get up.
As though that one simple act might stay the inevitable.
Still she struggles upright, stubborn determination seeing the task through. She can’t stay here. Can’t be here surrounded by them. When finally she has gained her feet, trembling, bolstered by pure strength of will, her eyes settle briefly on Dovev before straying to Leliana, to Luster.
It is so clear she does not belong. She can’t be here.
Her gaze settles on the rounded curve of Luster’s stomach before straying to Dovev, to the subtle lights clinging to him. It should’ve been them. She doesn’t know why he’d tried so hard for her. Luster has always been the better of them. Even healthy Heartfire had been so plain next to her ethereal beauty. Luster is so kind and soft. So good. Heartfire is too hard, too unforgiving. She would never bend before him, she would always insist on everything. Better he know now, leave now, before it is too late. She could never be like Luster. Her love is too greedy, too consuming. She would never let him go if he was hers, could never stand by and watch him fall in love over and over again. She is too selfish.
“The babies are yours,” she finally says, gesturing briefly at Luster’s obviously swollen stomach, eyes flicking back to the bone-armored stallion as the steely mask settles over her features once more. She had meant to tell him, but she hadn’t gotten the chance. But now, now he could have everything he had wanted. Because it was, wasn’t it? She could not understand why he would have wanted her, not when he had Luster (her sister, everything she is not) waiting for him. “It was never me you wanted anyway.”
The last is said on a whisper as she turns away. She couldn’t do this. She should’ve pushed him away that night, like she always had. She had known this could only offer pain. She breaks everything she loves. She would break him too if he didn’t leave now. She doesn’t notice the way the leaves have begun the shatter behind her, breaking apart beneath the force of her repressed emotions as she walks away.
She means to leave, she couldn’t be with them. They were too good, too kind. She does not deserve their kindness. But her strength fails her as another wave of pain crashes through her body. She has made it only a few feet through the sparse trees when she flinches against the contraction. Her body shudders as she struggles to keep from falling. The healing efforts they had made could only do so much in the short time she had given them.
Too soon. She needs to get away. Somewhere safe. Her baby is coming. She already loves him so much, but it’s too soon. What if she broke him too?
Her knees tremble before she crumples to the ground once more.
i see your sins
and i want to set them free
