Work Text:
The room is too hot, but at least the screaming has stopped.
Celeste fills her lungs with the heavy air and pushes. Pain mingles with the smell and taste of smoke. Denerim is burning.
A door slams open. “It’s over! The darkspawn’ve fled,” her sister calls.
And then it’s over too.
He cries like a cat trapped in the tower basement. A cat the templars forbade her from saving. But they could not stop her from saving him. The scars on her arm are a testament to that.
Her sister cuts the cord as his tiny feet kick the air.