Author's Note: Note that all of these shorts are/will be written as I try to survive dead week and finals. I needed to give myself a little brain break, so if there are grammatical errors or the writing is just rougher in general, I apologize; also, I haven't played super far into the game, so my apologies if the characterization is a bit off. Also also, I've been a ghost here recently, so I wanted to share a little something with y'all. Enjoy!

For this chapter: Please do not read unless you've obtained Skyhold! I don't want to spoil anything!

Avanna walked awkwardly from her room in Skyhold to the tavern. She was trying, and failing, to hide the gift that she had picked out for Cole. She enjoyed the spirit's presence, but always left feeling rather sorry for the boy. His life was nothing but a series of reactions; as a spirit of compassion, he had to wait before acting, and Avanna hated that he rarely sought out pleasure for himself. So she got him a gift.

As she walked up the stairs, she briefly wondered what other people would see. Could they see her deliver the gift to the spirit? Or would he simply wipe their memory? If they couldn't see him, would they think she was crazy?

She shook the thoughts from her head as she stepped onto the last flight, making her way to the corner to talk to Cole.

She barely heard as Cole gave a vague description on someone's feelings.

"I got this for you," Avanna blurted, only realizing then how entirely unsure she was about how exactly to give him the gift.

"Oh?" came the soft response. "Why?"

"Because…" Avanna had to pause as she found the words. "Because you always seem so sad. I just…wanted to help."

"I enjoy helping others," Cole replied. "It makes me happy."

"Yes, I know," replied Avanna hurriedly. "It's just –"

"Thank you," Cole interjected, looking down at the wrapped parcel in his hands.

Avanna inwardly sighed. She should have known that a spirit of compassion would understand.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" prompted Avanna as she watched Cole simply stare at the package.

"It feels warm," he replied.

Avanna was confused. His gift shouldn't be hot.

"What do you mean? It's not –"

"Your heart."

Avanna stopped. He could feel her happiness. Perhaps that was a gift in of itself.

As Avanna stopped to ponder the meaning of his words, Cole proceeded to sit on the ground and open the gift.

"They're lovely," replied Cole. "So colorful."

"They're paints," replied Avanna, moving to sit next to him. "I saw them when I was in Val Royeaux and thought of you."

Cole looked up, bright eyes barely peeking out from under his hat. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," responded Avanna warmly.

"Inquisitor!" came a shout from the tavern floor.

Avanna sighed, tilting her head back, elven ears pressed against the wall.

"Inquisitor!"

"I guess that's my cue, huh?" sighed Avanna as she pushed herself up. "I'll talk to you later, Cole."

She began walking before she felt someone grab her arm. She turned, and there Cole was, standing and innocent.

"Thank you, Avanna."

The elf's heart swelled.

"I…it was nothing. Go on. I'll talk to you later," she managed as she quickly walked down the steps.

"Inquis–"

"I'm here!" Avanna shouted back.

Cole smiled as he ran his hand across the empty palette. He did like colors.

Avanna was swamped with work. Letters begging for help, notes from her advisors and inner circle, and important codices that needed reading littered her desk. She grew frustrated at the clutter clouding her vision and pushed herself up from the desk. She stepped out onto her balcony to enjoy the crisp night air. However, as she stayed outside, the crisp air turned bitter, and she reluctantly returned to her desk. As she picked up the parchment she was previously reading, a paper caught her eye. She paused, placing the paper to the side as she gently shifted the papers, revealing a bright and vibrant picture.

The parchment was thick but the paint that was used was even thicker. Texture and color dominated the scene, and Avanna couldn't help but run her fingers over the ridges of the piece. It was overwhelming gold, but a clear gold, like the color of sunrays. A stray streak of red or blue somehow found its way into the mix, but the comforting pale yellows and deep golds helped to ease her mind. Her eyes and hand continued downwards across the page as she happened upon a face. Well, the impression of one. With dawning realization, she held the picture up at arm's length. The picture then came into focus. The face in the picture suddenly became a figure that looked distinctly like her. It looked heavenwards where showers of sunrays cascaded over her. She touched the figure, surprised that it was smooth, and retraced the deep texture of the sunrays. She tried to determine if there was a figure in the heavens, but to her relief there was none. The picture showed nothing but the fact that she was chosen. It didn't matter who it was that had guided her to this point – the Creators, Andraste, a paragon – it simply mattered that she was here now.

Avanna gently placed the picture on her desk, allowing herself a brief moment to process the joy and relief that flooded her. She lifted her eyes back up to the painting as she absently fiddled with the corner of the parchment. She noticed a faint black color on the reverse side of the corner she was touching and flipped the page.

There, in a black childlike scrawl was a name: Cole.

Impulsively, Avanna made her way to the tavern and found Cole, sitting on the ground, hands still covered in paint. He jumped up as he heard noise, hands up in the air submissively, before Avanna wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

"Thank you, Cole," she whispered against the fabric of his shirt.

Cole smiled, returning the embrace.

"No. Thank you."