"Small pinpricks beneath the skin. Poking, prodding, a torment you can't see. Cracks in the heart. Damaged. Broken. Shattered."

Alana Lavellan refused to look at the young boy standing beside her. Instead she continued to stare into the fire, lost in thought.

"A voice clouds your mind," Cole continued. "His voice. Haunting. Hurting. But wanting. Yearning. You try to escape it but you can't. He's in this corner, and that. Eyes shut or open, he's there. He too is longing, needing, confused by all the pain he has caused."

Alana managed a small laugh, though there was no glee behind it. "I'm certain he is far from confused," she whispered. "He's all too aware of some. But you're right, not all."

"But you loved him," Cole stated.

She nodded. "I did."

"Still do," Cole replied. "He does too. He watches. Waits. Apologies on his lips, but the wind carries them with the cold air. He fears you now as you did him. He knows the pain he's caused and wants to make it right."

"Some things can't be fixed Cole," Alana told him.

"I can fix. I can help. Help the hurt."

"No," she warned. "Some of us need this hurt. Need the reminder that when painful things happen, there may be reason behind them. If you take away that memory, how will I ever learn to avoid a similar situation in the future?"

"But you're hurting," he replied, not understanding. "He's hurting. Your hearts are heavy."

Alana turned to look at him. "Those are the consequences of our actions Cole. Some things you just shouldn't try and fix. They are what they are and need to remain."

"But you love him still," Cole said.

"I do," she admitted.

Cole looked toward the forest. "He loves you too."