Salem

"Salem." an insistent voice; one that lingers and grates against my ears like an echoing gong. "Ssssssaaaaalemmmmm."

"Leave me be." I mumble, turning over in my bed.

Dawn will break too soon. I do not want to face it.

"Salem!"


"What!?" I opened my eyes and stared at whoever had provided my rude awakening.

My eyes adjusted to the dim light of the banked coals and I made out a svelte silhouette that could only belong to one woman that I knew. Why Morrigan had awakened me from a dead sleep I did not know, but curiosity piqued and awakened me further.

"Salem, come with me." Morrigan whispered and my head cleared from the shock. "I need to speak with you."

Oh, Maker. AGain? Yet another needy hand knocking at my door? I am near spent of words and promises. All I wished for a was a night alone with Leliana. And yet day will break; interruptions will come. It is what is left of my limited fate.

"'Tis urgent, warden, and of great importance. I suggest you hasten, or be worse off for your hesitation."

"Fine." I waved her away and extricated myself from the bed, finding my clothes that had been scattered around the room.

I glanced back at the woman I loved, whose slumber remained undisturbed. Her face looked soft and untroubled upon the pillow, and I wanted to remember her this way. I wanted to remember how she had looked underneath me as we made love, as her eyes closed and her mouth parted, breathing my name as she crashed over the edge of climax. I wanted to remember her joy above all else...for I was the one who would destroy it.

Once I had dressed, I followed the witch out of my room and into hers. I stood there, rubbing the grit from my eyes, watching her. She moved about the room adjusting and straightening various items...acting not at all like Morrigan.

"Speak now lest I lose my patience and leave." I warned her.

She turned to me, amber eyes dark, swimming with the arcane. While she had always been an intimidating woman, she looked positively not of this earth.

"Be not so quick to threaten me, warden. An angered witch's favor is not easily regained."

She is speaking...acting...much like she did when we first met. She has changed drastically since then. Something is amiss. But what?

"Forgive me." I amended, watching as she settled in a shadowed corner, staring at me from underneath a wave of midnight air.

"This is not so easy a subject to broach as I may have thought." she muttered.

"What subject?" I asked, hoping to smooth the way for her.

"I know, Salem." she narrowed her eyes and the corner of her mouth lifted just enough to be menacing. "I know the warden's fate. I have known for...quite some time."

Andraste's ass! I swore, clenching my hands into fists. Has everyone known what awaits me save myself and Alistair? First Leliana's revelation...and now this? Wynne might have known too; in the Circle one has little to do but study the histories of magic and surely the warden's Joining would have been found there.

I laughed, bitter. "Now it would seem my night is complete. How did you find out?"

"Flemeth's purpose." Morrigan answered, averting her gaze. "Why the batty bitch sent me with you in the first place. She intended for this, Salem. I would not be surprised if she orchestrated it..." her tone grew dark, "she had more knowledge than it would seem. She knew I would find her old grimoire in the mage's tower; knew it would lead me to find out about her barbarous construction of an eternal life, and knew that I would get down upon my haughty knees and beg for your assistance in wiping her out. All for this...all for this moment."

Flemeth? She is dead. I pierced her dragon's heart with my own sword; watched her vanish into ether. There is nothing left of her and yet...the legends of the Witch of the Wilds go back further than the written histories. Could she have somehow survived death?

"All for what, Morrigan?"

"'Tis my foolishness that brought this upon me." she sniffed and straightened. "But 'twould seem that the true treasure was not, as I thought, Flemeth's lost grimoire...but her spellbook that had been beneath my nose the entirety of my life. 'Twas there I found the secret that she wished me to discover."

"What secret?" I asked.

"How to avert the warden's fate." Morrigan once more turned her eyes to mine and they were filled with that emotion most foreign to her...hope. "How to cheat death. I would have worked the ritual myself, without your knowledge, had there not been a certain factor...one that will require your diplomatic skills."

A way out? A way free? But...this way would have come from Flemeth. There is darkness here, on the tip of every word that promises redemption. I must know more.

"Explain. Everything." I ordered.

"'Tis...'tis a ritual." Morrigan looked down at the ground. "A different manner of Joining, if you will permit me the expression."

"Speak in words, witch." I growled, tired of mages and their incessant cryptics, whether it be Morrigan's secrets or Wynne's wisdom.

"Well, if you must have truth at the edge of a sword, so be it." the witch sighed and moved in front of the fire, as though she could soak up its warmth and bravery. "Sex. With a warden, a warden that has not borne the taint for long. From our union, a child would be conceived, a child that would bear the taint of his father. When the archdemon dies, its essence would seek out that of the child, instead of the warden, but the soul of the child, so new in its formation, would remain undamaged. The child would live, cohabiting with the soul of an old god...and the warden who struck the killing blow would be free to live their life as they choose."

A child?I wondered, horrorstruck by the mere thought of Morrigan as a mother. Conceiving a tainted child so that I might live...burdening an innocent with the ink-dark soul of an ancient god? Who could countenance such a thought...who could live with themselves after allowing this to happen?

"So you came to me...spoke to me of this, why?" I asked.

Morrigan bit her lip and sighed. "I...I..." her mouth twisted in a grimace, "'twould pain me to see you die, warden. I have become quite...not averse...to your presence in my life. Perhaps I even consider you a friend."

Morrigan uses me as I use her, I recalled the words I once said to Leliana, a means to an end. This confession...is filled with hearth, reluctant though it may be. Perhaps her venture is not far from sanity after all.

I sighed. "I'm certain Riordan would not be averse to your overtures. He is nearing the end of his life and..."

"And has borne the taint too long." Morrigan stared at the fire and I could have sworn I saw a blush in her cheeks. "It would...it would have to be Alistair. Though...'tis true that if you were a man, I would prefer this be done by you. Alas, it cannot be."

How very...disturbingly intriguing. "You would be willing to..."

"Fornicate with the buffoon?" she asked, cocking her head like an inquisitive bird. "But of course. 'Tis required for the magic. And if it is for magic, 'tis not I who does the choosing. Rather, I am forced into the situation."

"He would never agree to it, Morrigan."

And I would never ask him to. Maker's breath, you despise each other...and Alistair has never...well...fornicated, as you say, with anyone. This is preposterous. And it reeks of dark magic. Heavens, hells, and angels, it may even be blood magic. She reckoned it to the Joining, which is done with blood. I...I could never conscience that.

"You know quite well that Alistair would do anything for you." Morrigan wheedled. "You have but one chance for this, my warden. If you decline my offer, I will leave tonight, with no word to the others. If you accept, I will need your aid in persuading Alistair. It is for his life as well, for without you, his destiny ends in blood. I have foreseen it."

I need time! Maker's fucking breath, woman! Must everything be so...so...absolute with you? This is maddening! The chance to live, I stared at the tantalizing thought, the hope held out to me on a silver strand. The chance to continue my life with Leliana, to see the world rebuild itself after the Blight. No...No...I could not do this...what if this is some sort of diabolical conspiracy between Morrigan and Flemeth. What if, even know, the witch is witholding information from me?

And then there is the matter of…repercussions. I suffer today from the actions of an ancestor whose name has been forgotten, it was that long ago. If I make this pact, this deal with…I looked into Morrigan's unnatural eyes, remembered the skills she bore, a magic no man had seen inside the Circle, and shivered. …this deal with a demon…what will happen? Will the next generation live under the thrall of the man/god this union would create? Would something worse than a Blight come about? No…No. I cannot think of what it is I most desire…and that is to tell Morrigan to wait while I go to Alistair and beg him on bended knee to do this for me. I must consider the future. I must preserve the world…now and further ahead.

I have to die.

"No." I whispered, shaking as I felt hope vanish. "I…I thank you, Morrigan, but I cannot. I cannot do this to you, to Alistair…to Ferelden."

"Then consider Leliana." the witch smiled, feral, gouging her fingers into the gaping hole in my heart. "What if she knew you had the chance to live and denied it; denied a life with her, all for the sake of the nobility of a dead family. Because you, the invincible, unshakable Salem Cousland, were afraid. Little will be lost if you accept my offer, warden. Much will be if you decline it."

I pinched the bridge of my nose as a thousand futures played out behind my eyes. As dreams crescendoed and died. As my heart broke for the final time.

No matter the cost, I thought, I will do what must be done. Leliana…forgive me.

"Very well, witch." I walked to Morrigan, making certain that she looked into my eyes, saw the promise of death within. "I have my answer. And you may dislike what I am next to tell you…"