For fenharels-heart Saga Lavellan never cried. Even now, her strong gaze was turned to the Creators looming over her. She did not blink or speak, choosing to stand her ground in silence. Though the Elven Pantheon hung back, their figures shrouded in light and shadow, the Inquisitor could hear their voices overlapping clearly in her mind. "You have suffered much, child." They began, hoarse whispering and booming call all at once. Saga did not move, nor did she avert her eyes. "Suffered so much, but won the day. And yet..." The voices paused before becoming decidedly feminine. "And yet you have lost everything. Lost that which you held most dear." She flinched. A tiny, insignificant movement that was missed by none of the Gods surrounding her. Anger straightened her spine. Anger at the Creators. Anger at her traitorous lover. Anger at herself. How dare they speak of her suffering, of her pain. Where were they when she cried out for help? When the Mark threatened to sear her skin from the bone? When the life was bleeding from a sacrifice that shouldn't have been made? A shudder ripped through her, and she didn't bother to disguise it. It wasn't as though the figures before her couldn't read her emotions clearly as any book. Still, they waited for Saga to collect herself before speaking again. "In spite of losing everything but your anger, you stand here now." There was a long moment of silence, and from the fluttering murmurs she couldn't quite understand, the rogue knew a decision was being made. "And so, we've seen fit to grant you a single boon. This gift should not be taken lightly, or wasted on anything frivolous." The voices were effeminate once more, filling Saga with a comfort she thought she'd never feel again. Images filled her mind, gifts she could request, riches or power. An errant thought of the lover she had once known. But no. There was only one thing Saga Lavellan wanted. Before she could begin her request, a single voice entered her head, gentle but firm. "I cannot bring back the dead, child." She visibly sagged, weariness etched on her features. Of course not. The one thing she wanted was impossible to have. She didn't dare hope when he spoke again. "I cannot bring back the dead, but the sacrifice was true. Two halves of a soul should not be separated. You will meet again. Do not take her love for granted." Saga Lavellan never cried. But when she woke from her dream in the Fade, there were tears coursing down her cheeks. She would hold Madera again. She could wait.
