*-*-*-*-*
Timeless.
This darkness.
The edges are tainted with screams that she's pretty sure are her own. Body straining; she's pushing against something. Someone. The black rips through her over and over again each time bringing defeat and despair. If there was color here it would be blood red and splattered across her being.
She is a celebrated war hero across the whole damn country.
How is this the eternal fate that the Maker rewards His finer warriors?
Everything she has done in the last year has been for Him.
A tiny voice whispers between her sobbing protests, "Not everything little one. You did most of it for him. Your fellow brother-in-arms."
It sounds like her father's voice and she cries harder each time it returns to remind her that she has chosen this path because of love. Love.
Timeless she has been suspended here, wondering if this is what she has to look forward to for the rest of Eternity.
"Rise up. Take your life back."
Melody Cousland's world is falling apart around her. She is pulled in all directions as her soul is removed from her body with a bright and shattering white light.
"Come back to me."
Alistair!
*-*-*-*-*
It had been a hard week for the King of Ferelden. After killing his greatest human adversary he willing sought another and knowingly went to his death. But he didn't die. He lived and his woman, freshly scorned, took his place as the Grey Warden who delivered the killing blow to the Arch Demon.
With his friends gathered close, King Alistair had dropped to his knees and watched as convulsions shook through Mel's body with a disturbing ferocity. He watched her figure slump, her arm still pierced by three separate teeth in the dragon's mouth.
He had closed his eyes, not wanting to see the broken and bloodied body of his first. He heard her voice in her head from the night before her demise. Heard the pain and disbelief in her words as she accepted that he was no longer hers. That his purpose had finally led him away from their soft words in dark tents across the country side.
It was Wynne's gasp and hand on Alistair's shoulder that brought his eyes open and his gaze upon Mel's body.
A shaky breath filled her lungs.
The King of Ferelden openly wept as he approached her and pulled her tight, her body struggling to live but clearly not dead yet.
In the days that followed many hypothesized what had happened to the Arch Demon's soul. Alistair had seen the blackness and felt it as it had passed through him. Only Mel's interference had saved him and he believed that it was possible she had managed to split the soul somehow and transfer the damage between the both of them. Many of the magi believed that, all though the dark spawn had quickly retreated following the dragons death, the Arch Demon still lived, somewhere. In some tainted body. They did not lower their guards and spent much of their time watching for signs of the dark spawn's return.
Wynne knew better. She had sensed, months earlier, that Mel had become pregnant. Tell tale signs had softened her sharp critique of the Wardens and their relationship so much that she did not speak of her suspicions to anyone.
Two days after the final battle, the bleeding started. Wynne was waiting for it and carefully nursed Mel through a messy miscarriage of a still born child. She cut the child from it's mother's womb with care and caution, knowing of no other way to free the fetus without the helpful labor of a conscious carrier. Four months along. The small body was turned black by the soul of the dragon.
A child born of the taint. A child dead from the taint.
Alistair was beside himself when she finally emerged from Mel's chambers with the small creature wrapped tight against his sight. She took the babe straight to the Chantry. "Bless her and put her in the ground. Pray for the mother then."
Wynne hurried back to Mel's chambers. The warrior's body was broken in many ways and it was taking most of her extensive healing knowledge to repair the damage. She found Alistair next to the bed, his hand gently holding the unconscious woman's.
"Will she wake now? Now that the . . . child . . . is out of her?" Wynne doesn't need to see his face to know he's crying. She can hear it in his voice; the way it hitches when it speaks of his daughter who the world will never know.
"I don't know. She is in a dark and dangerous place now, far removed from us. I only hope that once I start healing this new wound of hers that her soul returns." The mage approaches the King and lays a soft hand on the back of his neck. "Sleep, my liege. There is no more you can do for her except pray and get some rest."
He does turn his face to look at her now. His tears are slow, a broken heart grasping in the unknown for any sort of relief. "Just save her. Please."
*-*-*-*-*
The is nothing else for the Grey Warden or his companions to do now but wait and pray. All of them make sure that someone is with Mel. All of them bring meals for Wynne and take a few moments to squeeze Mel's hand except for Sten and Shale. They wait in the training yard, killing time by trading blows. A dark part of Sten feels grief for ever questioning Mel's ability as a warrior and curses the fact that she is a woman. That she was able to become pregnant in the first place. They are not close friends but she has gained his respect and he hates to see a good warrior fall.
Leliana has taken up residence at the Chantry. The quiet and rest seems to agree with her, as far as her companions could tell. She prays constantly; for the deliverance of Mel. Over the course of their travels the two women have become close friends. Nothing more, to Leliana's chagrin. Just thinking about the way Mel would gaze at Alistair when she thought no one was looking was enough to convince the redhead that it would have been a useless endeavor to push her desire. The love between the Wardens was rare. And precious. The loss of their babe weighs her heart with sadness.
It is the Dog who leaves Mel's side the least. He sits and waits patiently as his owner's body heals itself and prepares for her to return fully to the land of the willing. It is his presence that keeps the rest of them believing that Mel will be back. The dog would know if all hope was lost surely.
Two weeks of waiting and then one day it starts to rain. A heavy downpour that wipes the blood from the castle walls and courtyards. It cleanses the stone of Fort Drakon just as it cleans the cobblestone streets. In the dim light of Mel's chamber her heart slows it's beat. Next to her the Dog barks once, sharply and clearly alarmed. He noses her hand, willing her to move. To wake again.
The Dog's whines alert the resting Alistair and he is on his feet instantly at the sound. At her side, holding her other hand. In her bed she looks tiny and frail and he can't believe he had ever told her that they would never work, with their tainted blood. He only wishes for her to open those beautiful eyes and smile.
When he had initially made the choice to break off their relationship he had been thinking of everything and everyone except for himself. It was irresponsible not to provide an heir to the throne. It was selfish to think that he could deny the world the restoration of the Grey Wardens by keeping the only two remaining members sucked in by royal duty. The country needed a leader. The Grey Wardens must be rebuilt.
Now he stares down at the last part of him that really even means a damn thing to him and wishes he could have just been more selfish. Remembered that above all he needed to love.
Mel's breathing is slow and irregular and he fears her body is giving up. It's been through so much.
"I'm sorry I turned you away. I was afraid and stupid. Please Melody. Please, come back to me. Come back to me!"
*-*-*-*-*
Fading light and a new pain flow out of Mel. She feels weighted again, as though she has finally floated back to earth from whatever placeless prison has kept her in torture for so long.
She is aware of three things as soon as she stops moving.
The first is an overwhelming pain centered around her right arm and her midsection. It is a fresh pain, unlike the waves that have been pushing at her.
The second thing she realizes is that she feels warm. She is covered by a quilt and it is heavy and comforting on her skin. Wrapped in it's embrace she feels safe.
The third thing that is apparent is that someone is holding her hand and the panicked tone of the voice attached to said someone clearly labels it as Alistair.
She hears him gasp and she tries to reassure him. Her lips move but the only sound that comes out is a gasping moan. Alistair cries out her name and the hand on hers tightens it's grip. She tries to push her eyes open.
She feels weak. And empty. As if a great black hole has been torn open inside of her.
"Alistair?" It is the first word she has said in a long time she thinks. Her throat is dry, her lips chapped.
What has happened to her?
"Yes it's me. You're awake. You're alive. Thank the Maker!"
She manages to slit her eyes and it is a great relief to find the face leaning over her own is the same she came to love so long ago. He is handsome and his eyes are worried. He looks so agitated. She's been asleep, that much is evident. How long did she sleep? And why has she awoken? She was dead; Mel knows this much.
"Alistair, what's happened? How am I not buried in the earth?"
He is crying tears of relief is appears. He lifts her hand. Kissing it, he says, "We thought you were dead. But after you killed the Arch Demon you lived. That's all that matters my love. You lived."
Confusion knots her brow. He had explained that it much be a Grey Warden that killed the Arch Demon. No other would do in order for the demon to be destroyed. So, the Arch Demon must live.
"Have you figured out where the demon went? Why have you not killed it?"
Alistair's smile falters but does not completely leave him. "I will explain later, when you are stronger and have slept. You are tired. Oh Maker bless you. I was so worried I was going to lose you." Another kiss to the back of her hand and she is not comforted by his answer yet thinks that she could use a nap. She is so very tired.
His hand smooths the hair away from her face. The darkness over takes her again but it is a slate gray and smells like home.
*-*-*-*-*