Holli rode behind Cole on their horse, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist and her head resting against his back. Her eyes were closed while she tried to sleep a little. She was getting accustomed to the horse, plus Cole did well in controlling the beast, and she trusted him with her. It was hard not to after all this time and all his experience with Sunchaser.
The Dales being just on the other side of the Frostbacks at least meant they didn't have to travel far. Her definition of not far had certainly changed since she'd been here.
They were already over the Frostbacks, in a warmer climate, and she'd taken off her coat. Cole was still in his jacket; he said he didn't really feel hot or cold, not the way they felt it. And either end of the spectrum didn't bother him.
She tightened her hold on him, turning it into a hug more than anything else, and breathing in the scent of him. Leather and steel mostly, but something else under that, something she couldn't guess at. She felt him rest one of his hands over hers, his thumb absently stroking the skin there.
It was getting late, and Hawke called a stop for the night to make camp. Cole slid off the horse first, holding his arms up to help her down.
Back to having to share a tent. She would rather share it with Cole. Since the day Solas had convinced her to come back from the Fade, Cole had slept in her room with her sometimes. Most of the time they didn't start that way, but whenever she had nightmares, he would turn up. The first time, he'd just been there when she had woken, it had freaked her out. She had spoken to him about boundaries and not being weird. After that he did come in, but he woke her up and made sure she knew he was there. There were some nights it was like he knew the nightmares were coming, and he would turn up before she'd even gone to sleep and stay with her. She didn't know if he actively did anything to chase the nightmares away or if him just being there was enough for her.
Back home she had the occasional bad dream, sometimes about what happened when she was a child, sometimes just stupid things. Monsters, ghosts, spiders... One time she had woken from one of those dreams where you try to scream but no sound comes out—a shadow figure had been standing over her while she was lying in bed and was forcing its hand into her belly button. She had started to wonder if it had been a bad dream or something closer to sleep paralysis.
In Thedas, though, nightmares were regular, a few times a week at least. It was tiring, but there had been times back home where she would go weeks on only a couple of hours of sleep a night. She could handle it.
"Holli, come hither," Dorian called. "You can help me gather wood."
Holli snorted amusement at that, her mind dropping into the gutter. He must have realised where she had gone because he shot her a look.
"Charming."
She joined him, though, following him away from the camp to look for wood. It was mostly clear, but there was a small copse of trees not far that they could probably find some. Honestly, the pair of them gathering the wood seemed a little... it was a poor choice basically.
They wandered towards the trees at a sedate pace in comfortable silence.
"So," Dorian began. "I can't help but notice the dark circles under your eyes. Well, darker than usual. Not sleeping?"
"Just been busy," she replied with a shrug.
"I also noticed these dark circles and lack of appetite coincide with the aftermath of Adamant."
She shot him a dubious look, a brow quirked. "Seriously, dude? Are you trying to therapise me?"
"More like I'm curious. After everything that happened in Adamant, you've never really spoken about it."
"What's there to say? It happened, and it sucked. Just gotta put it in the fuck-it bucket and move on."
Dorian chuckled. "Fuck it bucket, I like that. And what do you do when that bucket is full? Which I imagine for you, it must be quite close, if not overflowing."
"That's the wonder of the bucket; it's not real, so it can be any size I want. Plenty more room in there."
His sceptical look did not go unnoticed by her.
"Dorian, I'm fine."
"Working yourself to death at the tender age of fifteen—"
"Sixteen," she corrected.
She had been here long enough to safely say she would have turned sixteen by now.
"Well, pardon me, we really can stop worrying then," he drawled sarcastically.
"What do you want me to do?" She snapped. "Piss and moan about it 'til everyone's sick of listening?"
"If it'll help. But I can guarantee you, none of us will get sick of listening."
With a sigh she forced herself to stop clenching her jaw. Her teeth were starting to hurt.
"Do you talk to Bull about your dad?" She asked.
"We've touched on it. But I haven't tried to bury and ignore what happened. Which I believe is where you're going wrong."
She let out a frustrated groan, tossing him a glare as she bent down to pick up a branch. They were close to the trees now.
"Just because you believe it doesn't mean you're right," she muttered.
He let out a theatrical gasp, and she couldn't help but be amused by the dramatics, even if she was annoyed by the subject he'd brought up. And he'd said 'we' before as well. Were they all just sitting there talking about her behind her back about how she was losing the plot?
"You're making Cole worry, you know," he said. "He doesn't know how to help you. You're making him question his purpose, and given what he is, you're making him question his whole identity."
Her jaw dropped. "That is so freaking low. Trying to guilt-trip me? And weaponise Cole against me? If I didn't like you, I'd be hitting you with this stick."
"Well, what's not to like?" He gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
"The way you create problems where there are none?"
"Oh, darling," he let out a low chuckle. "There is absolutely a problem. Denial doesn't make that go away. Trust me, I've tried. Take it from someone with experience."
"What did you do instead then?"
It came out snappy, like she was only asking to shut him up about her problems. But if she were honest, she was a little curious. Therapy wasn't exactly a thing in this world as far as she knew. And everyone here had shitty stories; there was no need for her to trauma dump all over them.
"I had to face it, of course, and admit it was no longer working for me. I had... a dear friend who helped me through it."
"Felix?" She asked softly.
Dorian didn't often talk about him, but the few times he had, his whole demeanour had changed. Holli had thought they might have been lovers, but Dorian denied it. Just a long-lived and very deep friendship.
"Yes."
"Yeah, well, I lost my best friends," she remarked, still a tad on the hostile side.
"You did. And it was... so unfair."
"Life's unfair."
"It is."
"See? It is what it is. Whinging isn't going to change it, so why bother?"
"Ah, and that is where you have it all wrong. Talking to someone you trust about something that bothers you isn't whinging. When I spoke to you of my father, did you think I was just whinging? Because I may have to stop talking to you."
"Of course not," she told him.
"So why is it when you do it?"
She rolled her eyes. She could see what he was trying to do. He didn't see the roll of her eyes; he was bent over picking up some wood from the ground. She was tempted to kick his arse so his face would go into the dirt. It was petty and stupid, but she wasn't sure she cared.
Of course she wouldn't. It was just tempting. She suddenly felt a thud in her shoulder and another in her chest, and when she looked down, there were sticks poking out of her. What...?
"Dorian?"
When she spoke, blood ran out of her mouth, and the pain kicked in.
Dorian heard her quiet voice and stood up. Was she finally ready to open up? His eyes widened when he saw the arrows protruding from her. Before he could react, he felt something graze his arm and heard another arrow hit the tree beside him. He quickly erected a shield around them, catching her as she started to fall. He couldn't see where their attackers were through the trees, but more arrows pelted his shield. That at least gave him a general direction. He unleashed a storm of lightning before scooping Holli into his arms and running back towards camp. The cover the storm gave him would give him a head start.
As he ran, he could hear Holli's wheezing and more blood bubbling from her mouth. That arrow in her chest must have hit her lung. Given her condition, she wasn't going to be able to heal herself.
"Solas!" Dorian called when he neared the camp, his voice urgent.
It drew the attention of the others as well, and the small group was ready to receive them. But it was Solas he was interested in; after Holli, he was their next best healer.
"Nonononono," he heard Cole muttering, torn between wanting to reach for her and hold her but afraid of getting in the way and slowing down any help they could give her.
Holli was taken from him and moved into one of the tents so she could be tended.
"What happened!?" Dorian had never heard Cole demand like that before or display such anger and accusation.
"We were attacked," Dorian explained. "I don't know by whom; I didn't see them. I looked up, and Holli—"
She had just been standing there, a sickening mix of horrified and confused.
Hawke stared the way they had come. "It doesn't appear they're following."
"I think they're hiding in the trees," Bull said. "I caught movement on the edge."
Cole drew his daggers and suddenly disappeared.
"Oh shit," Hawke muttered. "Dorian, get that arm seen to. The rest of us will go deal with them. Hopefully before Cole gets himself killed."