The sun fell across her face, finally stirring her from slumber. As tucked into warmth and comfort as she was, she was reluctant to get out of bed. It had been weeks since she had slept so well, and his lap was proving to be…

His lap.

The recollection of the night before jolted her awake, bolting her upright. She met Cole's gaze in the cheery morning light, stunned that it hadn't been a dream. Had he really stayed with her through the night? No, he must have gotten up at some point, as he was fully dressed now. Now past her moment of weakness, however, she was beginning to feel entirely awkward.

"You don't know what it meant, and it worries you," he observed. He was sitting at the head of the bed with his legs crossed, looking into her eyes, yet past them, as though he could see her thoughts and worries flitting across her mind like little birds taking wing. "It's alright. You were hurting and I helped. We didn't change. I am still me, and you are still you."

Under his piercing eyes, she became painfully aware of how nude she still was, and she immediately pulled the sheets up to cover herself. Immediately after doing so, she felt it was silly, considering what they'd shared the night before. Maker, he'd had his mouth…. Still. As silly as it was, she couldn't bring herself to drop the sheet.

Thinking on what Cole said, she supposed he was right. She needed something, he provided, and that was the end of it. Though he did it to help her, there was something cold and uncaring about it being left there, as though it had been nothing more than some manner of business transaction.

I'd like one hurt removed, please.

Ah, very good, madam. One hurt gone. Thank you for your patronage. Next?

Cole was visibly concerned now, clearly plucking all these thoughts from her head. He gathered them like spiders, wincing at the little bites they inflicted. "I helped one hurt, but it made another hurt. I...did it wrong."

Turmoil wrestled in her chest, making her heart heavy. With great sympathy for his position, she set a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Oh, Cole. You did help. It was what I needed but...it isn't so simple a thing. There can be a lot of meaning in what we did, and sometimes there isn't any at all. Sex is...so complicated. You couldn't have known this would happen. I'm the one who should have known."

"This is a harder hurt to help," the spirit appeared genuinely remorseful. "I thought I could help because the first hurt came from me. You wanted me to fix it, and I tried…"

"Cole," she took his hand in hers. "Sometimes, a little time thinking about it can fix it. Let it be for now, and let's get on with our journey."

"Okay."

...

The journey by boat seemed long. With no bandits or enemies raiding them on the water, and with things still being awkward with her companion, time drug on slowly. Despite the awkwardness, however, she was still glad for his company. They had settled into a companionable silence that Lavellan found she was at peace with for now.

At night was a different story. In the dark when it was quite late, as she lay in her room, rocking to and fro like cradle, she would think of that night. At first, she tried not to for fear it might summon him once more. It did not. As it did not, her mind began to wander.

He smelled like fond childhood memories, sweetness and laughter. If she thought hard enough, she could swear she could still taste him, rolling over her lips and caressing her senses like a promise. Maker, she could feel him still, his long, slow strokes melting her within. There was a part of her that wished it would happen again, that night and every night after. Daylight would spoil her fantasy, leaving her with an unusually silent Cole and the reality of the situation.

Arriving in Kirkwall could not come soon enough. It was a much different city than had been seen years ago. The tall, forlorn statues at its gates were gone, replaced instead by depictions of Andraste. The city had needed something to give them hope after the horror and chaos they suffered through. Like many crisis, it had driven the people into the arms of the Maker.

It was evening when they arrived, the sun bathing the city in a dreamy golden haze as it set over the horizon. Having not spent much time in Kirkwall, it took some time and asking for directions several times before they finally found The Hanged Man.

The buzz of drinking and merriment was overwhelming as they stepped through the door. Apparently, tragedy also drove people to drink.

After a quick scan of the place, there was no sign of Varric. Lavellan thought to ask a bartender or serving girl where he might be, but here Cole took the lead. He took her hand to lead her through the crowd. "I can hear him. This way."

Color crept into her cheeks at his touch, a brief flood of memories pulling her back to that night. She was immediately embarrassed by this, something the spirit seemed to pick up on, as he let go of her hand thereafter.

Led to a room upstairs, they found the door open. The Inquisitor rapped on the doorway politely.

"Come in," Varric called.

Stepping inside, they found the dwarf at a table, papers across the entire thing, a bottle of brandy beside him and a pen in his hand. When he looked up, he set the pen down, standing to greet his guests. "Inquisitor! I haven't seen you in a while. Glad you had the time to stop by! And is that...Cole!?"

"Yes," the spirit chimed in, sounding more cheerful than she'd heard in some time. "I came with so she wouldn't be alone."

"Good to see you, Varric," she greeted him warmly and genuinely. It was better than she had imagined it would be to see him. She missed her traveling companions more than she admit to herself.

"Wow, would you look at that. Kid, you're looking awfully grown up there. You even got that beard you wanted!" he circled around Cole, examining the changes. "Tell me you have time for a drink."

"After I arrange a room, absolutely," she grinned at the thought. A drink sounded perfect.

"Nonsense. There's a room here. I'll take care of it. You're my guests tonight!" the dwarf beamed, crossing the room to his own bar stash. "Kid, you drinking yet?"

"No, thank you," Cole politely declined.

"Well, I am," the Inquisitor chimed in. "I'll take his."

After talking for hours, Lavellan eventually retired, leaving Varric and Cole to their own devices. The spirit had been waiting for this, as his head had been jumbled over what had happened when he'd tried to help the Inquisitor.

"Varric," Cole started.

"If I didn't know any better by that tone," Varric poured himself another glass of brandy. "I'd say you've got something on your mind, kid."

"I don't understand," he started, brow knitting in worry. "I tried to help, but I made it very wrong. It made a different hurt."

"You're gonna have to start at the beginning of that story, kid."

Cole thought for a moment, measuring his words, tasting their meanings, then arranging them in ways Varric would understand. "I came to help because she didn't want to travel alone. She liked how I looked, and it made her hurt for me. I tried to help her hurt by lying down with her but it made it worse. There's new hurts now. Maker, his touch. I don't want to want it, but it's good to be touched, and by his hand."

Varric was stunned. "Kid, are you saying…"

"We had sex," he said, matter-of-factly. "It was what she needed, the closeness, to help the hurt. But now things are wrong, and now it hurts her to talk to me. It would hurt worse to leave her, but it's still wrong. I didn't do it right."

Rubbing his forehead, he was perplexed. He didn't even think Cole was capable of doing anything like that, let alone with the Inquisitor. What a mess. "Sounds like she was lonely and wanted some company. That ain't the kind of thing you help with willy nilly, kid. Let me guess: she feels bad about it and is confused too."

"Yes." Cole was deeply troubled by this. "And I don't know how to make it right. She thinks I did not know what I was doing. Not really."

"Well, did you?" Varric was genuinely curious himself.

"Yes," Cole crouched beside a wall. The wall the Inquisitor was on the other side of, sleeping off her alcohol. He could almost see her, twisted in linens, one arm above her head, lips slightly parted. He could feel the warmth of her breath, the steady rise and fall of her chest. "I wanted to help. She's always helping others. Always worried for us. I wanted to help her. She wanted me to do it."

The dwarf laughed, finding the situation wonderful and ridiculous at the same time. Didn't that beat all. He was in love and confused, like everyone else.

To Varric, Cole represented the Fade as an involuntary ambassador. Previously, the Fade was a foreign, frightening thing, a source of magic and power and everything messed up in their world. Cole made the Fade seem like the real world; there were good guys, bad guys, and things inbetween. Spirits became something relatable, which comforted the dwarf to no end. "Kid, welcome to being a person. Women confuse the hell out of me sometimes, too. Best thing to do is just talk it out. It sounds like you really care for her."

"Yes."

"Well, did you tell her that?" He couldn't believe it. Cole was having girl troubles. If that didn't prove how human the kid had become, then he didn't know what would.

"I told her I wanted to help," Cole explained.

"Oooh," he winced. "Alright. Piece of advice: when it comes to emotional stuff, watch the words you use. Some words, even though they pretty much mean the same thing, can mean really different things in conversations where emotions are concerned. So when you talk to her, try telling her you care about her, and that's why you want to help."

The spirit peered at him from under the brim of his hat. "But I would help if I didn't know her, too."

"Yeah, kid, I know. But you gotta make her feel special. It doesn't mean as much if you do it for just anybody," he tried to explain, hoping this was making some sense to the strange spirit-man. "I mean, would you use sex to help anyone like that?"

When Cole's eyes fell, his head tipped with it, leaving Varric with nothing to see but the top of his hat as he crouched beside the wall. "No," he murmured after some time.

Varric sighed in relief. The kid wasn't hopeless after all. "Can you see the difference now?"

"Yes. Sort of. I think I'm still a little confused, but some of it makes sense." Cole stood, now peering down at the dwarf. "I would not understand if I hadn't become so real."

"That's the fun of these situations, kid," he chuckled, pouring himself another drink. "We all get to be a mess, we all get to be confused, and sometimes it's going to hurt and there wasn't and isn't anything you could do."

"I see," Cole mused on this. "Because the hurts are little, but the help is big."

"Yeah, something like that. Or that's the hope, anyway," Varric nodded. "The thing to remember is that anyone worth being with is going to want to help you too. It helps if you know what you want."

"I want to help."

Varric groaned, "I know, kid. But look…"

The conversation continued well into the wee hours of the morning. Varric did his best to explain the complexity of love, attraction, and relationships to Cole. While there were certain things he did not seem to grasp, he felt confident the kid had the gist of it. The rest would come with time and experience.