Yet Broken Still You Breathe

Untitled Part 46

A/N: Incoming montage of Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John or SOS by ABBA but if you really want to get hit in the feels, either Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart or The Night We Met by Lord Huron

"In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you're whispering 'where have you been?'
I say, 'I've been lost but I'm here now. You're the only person who has ever been able to find me.'"
— Sue Zhao

The days passed like Gwen was a fly caught in molasses. Every morning she would wake and for a brief, blissful moment she would forget all that had happened and reach over to try to feel the warm body that should be next to her. The furnace of a man who would pull her into his arms despite his grumbling at having been woken, press a kiss to her hair, and promptly fall back asleep. But the bed was cold and she was alone. Alistair was in his castle, surrounded by people who thought her nothing more than a monster. Was his bed as cold as hers or had he found someone to warm it for him?

It had been weeks - or maybe months, Gwen had lost track - since she'd left Denerim and made her way to Vigil's Keep and joined the Wardens, though not in full. She had no idea what taking the Warden concoction would do to her, and neither she nor Darcy were keen to find out.

The first of Alistair's letters had arrived only a week into her stay at the Keep. Darcy hadn't yet made it, and she'd shoved it beneath the thin mattress of her bed. She wouldn't read it, not only because she couldn't, but because she was afraid. Would he hate her, curse her existence for what he did to her? Or would he beg her to come back, tell her how much he loved her? She wasn't sure which would be worse. If he hated her, it would be easier to stay away, though it would kill that last piece of her that clung onto the happiness her love for him gave her, even as it consumed her. But if he wanted her back... she had always been weak when it came to denying him. She could already imagine the warmth of his embrace, the light in his eyes. It hurt to know how easy it would be to break her resolve.

Once Darcy arrived at Vigil's Keep, Gwen followed him wherever he went, ignoring the worried looks he shot her way, his attempts to cajole her falling flat every time. Gwen may not have been a Grey Warden, but she was an ally with the taint - a rumour that quickly spread - and no one questioned their Warden-Commander, at least not when she was around to hear it.

When the Keep needed aid, Gwen travelled with him, intent to keep her friend safe by any means necessary. But when Alistair - King Alistair - showed up at the Compound, Gwen ran for the cover of the shadows, watching with an aching heart as his troupe approached.

As he rounded the corner, his armour gleaming in the sunlight and adorned with intricate designs and symbols of his rank, she wanted to curl into a ball and cry. He looked older, a weight on his shoulders that hadn't been present when she'd left him on the morning of his coronation. She was relieved to see his cheeks were full, at least, and his hair styled the same in a half-hearted effort to keep it off his forehead. She longed to run her hands through it again, to feel the softness of the strands, to trail her fingertips down his face. But reality struck like a cold wave; she had given up that privilege. The weight of her decision crashed upon her, and her heart sank deeper into despair.

His lips were curved into an easy smile as he chatted with Darcy, his movements fluid and casual, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, darting around as if searching for something or someone. She knew without a doubt that he was looking for her. The earnest longing in his gaze tugged at her heartstrings, she didn't deserve that, he should be angry, be looking for revenge for his broken heart.

Gwen could barely register what they were talking about, her thoughts swirling too rapidly for her to concentrate. It all blurred into a background noise until Alistair's fidgeting caught her eye, unable to meet Darcy's gaze. "How is she?" he asked, and the world stilled around them. Her heart raced, both at the sound of his voice and the realization that he still cared enough to ask.