Cole x Reader (A New Enemy)

Accidental Confession

Cole's P.O.V

(Y/N) has been asleep. Nightmares riddling the mind like wasps on melted sugar. The healers are unable to mend the wounds that trouble his/her mind and potions have kept her/him barely grasping at the strings of life. Poison runs deep in the veins, burning and leaving (Y/N) motionless.

The tent around us close in like the teeth of a great bear, as I watch him/her. (Y/N)'s nightmares of the keep falling, the ones around her/him surrounded by pools of red. So much pain. I should have been there sooner to save (Y/N). This wouldn't happen if Averil hadn't hidden from me. No, this wouldn't happen if I didn't steal the lambswool to help him. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't helped Averil get close to (Y/N). This wouldn't have happened if I didn't help.

My chest hurting. Like being pricked with thorns. That warm feeling turning into liquid steel. My thoughts begin overpowering the nightmares of (Y/N). Echoing of (Y/N)'s voice, reverberating like the screams of the fallen. Like Cole, left by the templars to die.

(Y/N) can't die. Not because of me. Rhys, Evangiline, Solas they all left. Left without saying goodbye. Left with their own free will. Not (Y/N). She/He never left. (Y/N) can't leave. Why can't I let (Y/N) go? This feeling like the heat at the end of a fire casters staff.

"Cole?" A low raspy voice sounded behind me. Sad, the regret of lost people and the fake name looming in the background of their mind.

How did I not hear him coming?

"Hello, Blackbeard." I respond.

"Um, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I just wanted to come check on the Inquisitor. I figure I owe her/him that much." He swings his arms back and forth like a grandfather clock. His mind races with the memories of the Inquisitor being merciful on him once finding out who he really is. Then the image of the actual Blackbeard.

"Similar the the true Blackbeard. Courageous, making hard decisions for the good of the people." I repeat the thoughts of Blackbeard.

"Ahem...yes, I do think of her/him like the greywarden..." he began to shift uncomfortably. He begins to think of danger. Comparing me to that of the other spirits that can become corrupt and twisted.

"I am not like them." I mutter.

"Oh, uh I wasn't trying to... I meant no offense by... You know what I should probably go." He rushes out of the tent. Underneath his thick beard, a red tint covered his face.

Am I really a monster? I do not want to be like them. Not like the others, but maybe if I was, I wouldn't have helped, and (Y/N) wouldn't be I this condition. Her/His blood running with the little poison that is left in his/her system, but she/he doesn't move.

Heat fills my face like being burned with a branding iron. Wet. What is this, my cheeks flooding with salt water? My head hurts, filling with my own thoughts, blocking out any that could come from (Y/N).

"C-Cole," (Y/N)'s voice flood my ears.

I look up from the tears that fill my  eyes. (Y/N)'s face was distressed. His/Her eyebrows furrowing upwards, but her/his eyes remained closed. A nightmare. I focus on him/her thoughts trying to enter the mind and help... Helping is what got her/him here. Maybe I should stop helping. Staying out will be best for the Inquisitor.

Her/His mind flashes with an image. Of Cole, Me in front of her/ him defending him/her from someone. A tall woman, stood with a staff, the tip frosted over like the caps of a mountain.

The images were slow, as if  someone had cast a spell to stop time. A shard of ice flew from the end of the casters staff straight towards me and (Y/N). Piercing me in th stomach. (Y/N) screamed. (Y/N)'s Eyes swollen as of hit with a stone.

Muffled sobs filled the tent, as I sat watching the nightmare of (Y/N). My heart pounding like the fists of a prisoner in the dungeon.

In the dream (Y/N) picked up her/his weapon, and attacked the mage. Painting the ground like the dye from a flower. (Y/N) looks over to my lifeless body, and picks my head up.

"Cole! Cole! Wake up! Please!" (Y/N)  shouted in his/her dream. Her/His face streaked with tears. She/He hurts, like when a bird's lifetime mate is killed by a hunter.

"Help! Someone! Please!" (Y/N) struggled through sobs, "I can't lose you, Cole. Please!" My body remained motionless in her arms and my lungs no longer contained air . (Y/N) put her/his forehead to mine and whispered through tears, "I'm sorry. This should have never happened to you! I'm so sorry, Cole..." (Y/N)'s voice stifled with sobs. "... I-I never got to tell you, but...I-I love you, Cole. Please...don't leave me."

I stop reading into (Y/N)'s mind. My heart felt as if it was being pulled like the string of a bow. Was this what (Y/N) was trying to hide all of those times? Why does my heart feel this way? Is this the same emotion that Rhys and Evangiline had for each other or is it like how a mother loves a child? What way does  (Y/N) love me?

"Love? Me?" I mutter and leave the tent.

Your P.O.V

As you begin to open you eyes, a pain shoots into your head, causing you to shut your eyes tight and groan. You place your hand on you head in an attempt to massage away the pain, but to no avail.

You struggle to sit up, your hand still on your head. You open your eyes slightly and allow little light in. Your vision, blurred like fogged water. You  make you that the walls around you were red and seem to flow in the wind like cloth. A red tent? As you begin to focus harder on your surroundings, you hear voices from guards outside the tent.

" 'id ya 'ear 'bout that boy the spymasta took in?" A man with a thick Fereldan accent asks.

"Oh yeah. I'm glad she did, too. Allowing that Copernicus guy march in and try to assassinate the Inquisitor," says a raspy woman.

"eard 'e din't put up much a fight though. Jus' marched right inoo the dungeon," the Fereldan man says.

"If you ask me he's setting something up. No assassin just walks willingly into a dungeon unless they have a plan."

"I 'ont know wot kind ov assassin 'is boy is, bot 'ey should execute 'im jost in case."

"Well if the Inquisitor doesn't pull through this poison, they'll have to execute the boy. Not that I'm doubting the Inquisitor resilience." The woman states before the man switches topics.

Your vision was nearly all the way focused by the time they switched topics and you can make out your surroundings. Around you a table sat with viles, some filled and some empty. Next to it, an empty stool, that had accumulated a thin layer of dust. Underneath you, a matress filled with straw. You attempt to push up from the ground only to be reminded that your leg is snapped. The pain shoots up your leg like an arrow from Sara. You look did at you leg and the bone is no longer sticking out, thank the Maker, or whatever you worship. You try to move it up and down only to get another sharp pain through it.

"Agh," you groan in pain.

Suddenly,  the conversation from the two guards outside stop. And the shoving of armor could be heard.

"Go get someone," the woman says.

"Bot oo's gonna look afta the Inquisitor?" The fereldan asks.

"Just go get Adam. I'll watch her/him. Now, go! Quickly!" The woman shouts.

The shuffeling of armor started close then faded off into the distance. There was a sigh from the woman outside the tent.

"Inquisitor, pardon me, but are you up?" The woman stood outside the tent and called to me.

"Agh, if you can call begin slumped over being up."

Author's Note: Here is the latest chapter and man I am so sorry for the sucky endings. I will get to work on the next chapter. I would just like to thank the people who actually read this and have been supporting me. Even when I am not super confident with a chapter. You guys are awesome. :D