I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

 

The pain was extraordinary.

If it was not happening to her, she may have been in awe of it—may have marveled at the shards of glass that buried in her chest, the way her lungs filled with water, the way her vision grew hazy. After several minutes (hours?) resting upon the trunk of the tree, she had straightened, the tears finally dried, and turned her head toward the path that Dovev had taken, following the gold and white stallion toward…

something.

And she? She was alone.

He was not coming back.

The next breath had been excruciating, but she had taken it, filling her lungs with air that did not seem to want her either, the motion desperate and forced. She drew her wings back toward her side but kept them copper, the hard edges of them and the weight grounding. When she pushed from the tree, when she began to move from the area, she swayed with the effort, her flesh still slick with sweat, but she stood upright. She would not fall. She would not give into this. She would not let herself falter.

She was not sure how long she walked then, but she knew that her feet dragged, her hooves catching on the low slung roots and the mulch that gathered. Her crimson nose dropped to the ground, skimming over the surface. She had been a fool. A fool to think he had wanted her for more than a night; a fool to think she was anything but a placeholder. Her heart had screamed at her in warning—had told her something was amiss and she had ignored it. She had dismissed her better judgment, told herself beautiful lies.

And look where it had gotten her.

When she reached a small clearing, she finally came to a stop, forcing herself to lift her head and survey the area with exhausted amber eyes, the tears long dried, the sweat from the exertion of healing having left marks of salt white on her neck. She could still smell the faint scent of metallic blood on her coat from where she had laid in it and it made her stomach turn, remembering how near death he had been.

Leliana shook her head then, desperate to rid herself of thoughts of him.

Shaken, lost, she glanced upward. She could not tell whether she was grateful or sad that she was alone.

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

 

Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest but she did her best to think around it. She did her best to breathe around it. Because what good would it do to admit that she had been wrong? Or, rather, that her instincts had been right? With each passing moment, the white and gold stallion's words infected her mind, poison her thoughts. She had been such a fool to think differently, for opening up her heart for someone who had just needed a stopgap.

Her eyes opened when she heard the beast approaching and she took a deep breath, steadying herself and tucking away the emotion deep into her chest. Her smile was faint but there, curving the red velvet of her lips. "Oh, I'm okay," she said lightly, the lie believable when whispered with her guileless eyes. "I just got a little overtired. That's all."

Leliana was never one for needing comfort. She was meant to provide it, not demand it from others. She was meant to soothe wounds, not require that her own be stitched up. So she puts on a brave face and focuses all of her attention on him, hoping to drown out the anguish that raced through her mind. Almost instinctively, her wings responded to the sight of his, melting from familiar copper to familiar leather, the metal transforming to crimson dragon wings, the talons sharp and glinting in the faint light.

"I am sorry for concerning you." Her voice was as low as fog, calm and steady, as if she hadn't been just on the verge of breaking apart, as if she did not stand on the edge of that precipice now. "My name is Leliana. It is a pleasure to meet you...?" at this, her voice trailed off as she watched him expectantly, silently thankful for the company.

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

There is something kind about him, sturdy.

Something so wholly different from the darkness that consumed and ate away Dovev, even at his most restful. She sinks into the depth of his voice and finds comfort, just smiling gently when he pushes away her apology. She did not expect for him to expect it, and she doesn’t push the matter. Instead, she just rolls her mahogany shoulders and pulls her dragon wings tight into her sides. “Lior. What a great name.”

Something wild raged in her chest, but she turned from it. She felt its wild abandon, the sobs that made her throat raw—the hurt that ached, making her bones throb with its presence. She swallowed and then focused on the dragon-stallion before her, channeling all of her little energy into the exchange. She could not bear to think of Dovev; she could not bear to think of his form racing away from her.

She could not think about the words the gold and white stallion had spit at her.

If she did, she would break. She would crumple.

So she did not, instead, she let her mind catch on the mention of her sister’s name, and this time, the smile that twitched at the corner of her crimson lips was genuine. “Indeed.” Almost instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting her twin to come laughing into the duo. Her heart constricted in her chest with want of her sister, with the need to bury her head into her mane and forget the rest of the world.

“She’s my twin.”

In blood, in feeling, but not necessarily in looks. Although both bore the same wings, the appendages that twisted and dissolved with a mere thought, and although were built similarly, their bodies drawn up with the same feminine lines that were at once delicate and sturdy, they were wholly different. Exist was made up of stars; she was peach and indigo and laughing, wild smiles. Leliana was quieter—darker. She knew she didn’t draw attention as her sister did, and she did not mind it. It was enough to be warmed by the sun that Exist was; it was enough to bask in her presence, to love and to be loved by her supernova sister.

“I take it that you know her?”

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow