Kathyra

I open the door and step across the threshold, wary. I examine the space, looking for evidence of soot, ash, and damage by fire. There is nothing, no remembrance of the blaze I set so many years ago. I demand that I recall this as a memory; to believe that I have returned her at some point in my past, to this place Giselle and I called home...I know it is not true. Cannot be true. I did not return here in my life. I salted this earth.

I move into the main room of the clinic, tears filling my eyes as I see the shelves fully stocked, various vials and bundles labeled in Giselle's careful handwriting. The familiar fire crackles in the hearth and the ever present smell of herbs brings back memories of the sweet, lovely years we spent together.

Why am I here? I wonder. I left the Chantry and went to the Holy Palace. I let Beatrix anoint me with holy oil. I took the name of Seeker and I did not look back. I never returned to my home; I never again visited the single tree beside the ocean where first I kissed her. I let that life remain dead and buried beside her...why then...why then am I here?

"No." I hear a voice that burns in my ears and sets my heart racing. "No, this is not right. Not yet, not now, oh, please, not now."

I turn to the stairwell and fall to my knees. Giselle stands there, haloed by the light streaming in from the window. Her golden hair is swept back, glittering, revealing the delicate points of her ears. I lose myself in her eyes, that unreal, unholy shade of green, the color of new life, the color of all things beautiful and precious to me. I want to rise, to run to her, but I am held captive by her mere presence...a ghost of memories locked away and rarely visited. Their beauty and their pain is secret and sacred to me.

"G..." My voice is scratchy and my cheeks are drenched. "Giselle. Please...please tell me that this is not a dream."

"It damn well isn't, though how I wish it were." Giselle speaks in the form I have so longed for, so missed. Brusque, to the point of chilling, antonymic to her warm, caring nature.

She crosses to me, moving with the eerie, elven grace that captured me from the first. She extends her delicate, powerful, healing hand and I tremble as I reach up and take it, feeling the warmth of her skin infuse me as she draws me to my feet. I do not care that her words confuse me; I do not care that her eyes are bewildered.

"I'm sorry." I whisper the words I have longed to tell her, for so many years, words of regret, an ineloquent outpouring of my heart. "Giselle, I am so...so sorry."

It should have been me. You should never have perished. I would give my life to have you back; I would sell my very soul into darkness. Forgive me, Giselle. Please, forgive me.

"No need, my darling." Giselle pulls away from my embrace, her eyes shining. "I knew. I knew the moment they asked for you. I was prepared, and willing."

"Why?" I ask the question I have tormented myself with since her passing. "Why would you do that...for me? Why would you give your very life!?"

There is pain in my chest and my heart beats in an irregular, staccato rhythm. I wait for the answer, the answer I have never been able to accept, to give myself. In some, secret part of me, I do not feel I deserve her forgiveness...and yet I crave it with every fiber of my being.

Giselle reaches up and rests her hand against my cheek, her hand brushing away my tears with a gentle, sparking caress. "Stop hiding from the truth, trickster." She reads my thoughts, as ever she has been able to do. "I love you. I wanted you to live. This world needs...this world needs you. More than it ever needed me."

"Do not say that." I demand, hurt by her words, even as they ease the ache in my spirit and soul, proving that she faced death with no regrets, that she had given herself; that she let her blood be spilled to cover me, cloak m, and keep me hidden from my enemies. To redeem me. "You cannot know...you cannot believe..."

"I knew what I felt at that very moment." Giselle says, stern. "I damn well know my own mind, Kathyra. I knew it when I brought you into the Chantry half-dead, I knew it when I wanted you to love me. I knew it when I gave you my innocence and my body. And I knew it when that knife crossed my throat. You should not be here, in the realm of the dead, and of this we are both bitterly aware."

"No!" I shout. "That world holds nothing for me! I want to be here! I want to be with you! Damn me eternally, Giselle, I fucking miss you! Every bloody day is agonizing! Every breath I draw should not exist!"

"You want to run away, again!" She shouts, her eyes lighting with fire. "There is something on the mortal side of eternity that is plaguing you, tormenting you, and death is nothing if not the ultimate escape! Tell me, Kathyra. Tell me why you are so afraid...so afraid that the woman I know, who fights to survive above all else, is begging for death."

I remain silent, unable to confess, unable to betray her heart in her presence.

"Tell me!" She orders, and I wilt beneath the power of her gaze.

"There is..." My breath sticks in my throat, "...there is...another. And my heart...it feels for her so similarly what it feels for you. What it should feel for you alone. I do not want...I do not want to love her. She belongs to another, and I have wronged her so deeply, Giselle. Please, do not make me face that. Do not make me face a life of love unrequited."

The fire in Giselle's eyes deepens and smolders to a warm comfort, no longer a blaze capable of burning me alive. She presses her hand over my heart, as she did when she died. I feel the warmth and wet, and look down at the bloodied palm print spreading across my chest.

"Beautiful heart." Giselle whispers, and my knees go weak. "It is healing at last. Do not fear this, Kathyra. Do not run from this...and do not die from it. Please, my darling, please. It is not yet your time."

"You cannot know that!" I plead with her, feeling fear close in on me as my heart kicks erratically against my ribs. "Do you...do you no longer want me, Giselle?"

"What?" Her eyes widen and her lips tremble. "No! No, Kathyra! Not that...you are...you are my love, first and last, eternal. I want nothing more than to welcome you into forever, to hold you in my arms and revel in your presence but...but it is not time, dearest trickster. See," She rests her hand against my heart once more, letting me feel it beat against her hand, "you want to live. Your body is fighting, Kathyra. You are fighting."

"I do not want to fight any longer." I confess. "I want this. I want you. I never want to love another, even with your blessing...I do not want...I do not want to betray you."

"You have not." She assures me, in that concrete tone that forces me to believe. "And you will not. I know you, Kathyra, better than you know yourself. And what you cannot accept of yourself are the very things I adore. Your gentility, your honor, your will to live. There are stories yet unwritten, Kathyra...and you must be present for them. This world needs you."

Giselle takes me by the hand and leads me to the door, unwilling, disbelieving, but knowing that her faith gave me life. Knowing that, through her hope, I survive. Knowing that she does speak true, that she knows me better than I myself do. She stands at the door, takes my head between her hands, and stares deep, through my eyes, into my soul.

"Someone must still sing for the lonely heart, Kathyra." Giselle whispers. "Please, let it be you. Your voice is so beautiful, so necessary, so vital. You do not even know...you do not even know the wounds you are capable of healing."

Unable to resist, I lean down and press my lips against hers, weeping as I taste lemon and honey, as the scent of herbs suffuses me. Fire pours through my veins from her touch, passion courses through me, and this kiss his forgiveness, this kiss is loveliness...this kiss is good-bye.

Giselle pulls away, brushing tears from her eyes. "We will meet again, my darling." She promises. "When it is time. I love you, trickster."

I open my mouth, but she presses her fingers to my lips. "I know." She says, and I believe her. "Now go. Live. Sing. For me."

She opens the door and I step through it, looking back at her, knowing that I cannot deny her wishes, nor throw away her gift. That I cannot run away...not even to run into her arms. I lift my hand in farewell and Giselle closes her eyes, letting two perfect, radiant tears fall. She reaches up and rests her hand over my heart again, applying light pressure, making my ribs ache. The ache deepens as I depart from eternity and return to mortality, having been pushed from heaven by the same hands that lifted me out of hell.

I forgive her...I honor her...I love her...

"Come back!" The order rang through the room, harsh, in an Orlesian accent. "Damn it, Kathyra, breathe!"

Leliana's hands were over my chest, pushing in the rhythm of my heartbeat. Her eyes were wild and fierce, a lightning-blue that drove blood through my veins. My side was aflame, breath burned in my lungs, and I coughed, harsh and explosive, spattering Leliana's cheek with my blood.

Her eyes ignited and her smile lit the room, making my heart ache for an entirely different reason than the pain of it having cease and begin beating again. She lifted my head and eased another folded blanket beneath it, making my breath come easier. She held a cup of water to my lips and helped me rinse the blood from my mouth.

"Thank the Maker." She breathed, resting her forehead against mine.

Hot, salty tears from her eyes bathed my cheeks and I realized that her body was shaking. "Thank you." She whispered, for my hearing alone. "Thank you for coming back."

"Was it...a choice?" I wondered.

Of course it was, trickster, Giselle's voice whispered through my thoughts. You want to live. You deserve to live. So please, keep living. For me. Keep loving. For me.

"I will." I promised as my eyes closed in a slumber that would be dreamless and healing. "I will."