Salem

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

Morrigan lifts an elegant, sculpted brow, daring me to surprise her, or worse, to keep my answer the same. "

"I did advise you against trying my patience, warden." the witch smiles, as though she can sense my next words, and the future.

I bite my lip and stare at the ground, thinking of Morrigan's words. How she had spoken about Leliana...my bard's voice as it greets the sunrise, shrieks in battle...breaks with sorrow. In my mind's eye, I see the tears of grief on my lover's face, knowing that, more often than not, I am the cause of those tears.

I have the chance to save Leliana from a life spent in mourning. I have the chance to...to broker a deal with a demon. For the sake of love. As my nameless ancestor did before me. Perhaps, I am no better. Perhaps there is an inescapable darkness in all of our hearts...that darkness that wishes to defy fate. To live. To love.

"I will go to Alistair." I inform Morrigan, feeling my soul splinter. "And, if he agrees, and this ritual is done, then I warn you now, witch. If your child becomes something gravely unnatural, if at any time its existence is a threat to my country, I will seek it out, hunt it down, and slaughter it in front of you."

Shock lights the woman's amber eyes. She turns her gaze from me and looks into the fire.

"You are not to follow me, Salem." she whispers. "This is not how such things are managed. If I complete the final ritual, I will join you for the battle in Denerim, and when it is done, I will be on my way, and you will not seek me out."

I laugh, bitter and deep in my chest. "You may have no phylactery, Morrigan, but you have seen my determination. Do you truly believe you can remain hidden if I desire to find you?"

"'Tis true that you are a formidable opponent, Salem, but the events of this night need not make us enemies. Consider this my final favor, and one for which I will ask no repayment." Morrigan's voice sounded soft, but I knew it was not. Razors possessed a delicate, subtle edge...they cut deep.

I rise from my seat and go to the door. The night will soon be done, and I wish to return to the comfort of my bed and the warmth of the woman I adore. The woman I will consort with hell to remain beside.

"You cold-hearted bitch." I whisper to Morrigan. "You have manipulated me cruelly. We both know this for truth. Do not think you can contort your face into a mask against me any longer. I see the triumph in your eyes, and I feel as though I have stumbled into the gravest of traps."

"You must still garner the buffoon's consent." Morrigan chides. "Perhaps you will depart this place with your supposed soul unstained. I not, 'tis no loss for me."

Nothing ever is, Morrigan. I think. In all of this, you are the one among us who has sacrificed nothing. And now you offer to give up your body, to make yourself a vessel for the soul of a dead god and a child that I could never, should I live for an eternity, see you desiring...it does not bode well.

But I am tired of bleeding for others. I am tired of whoring myself to the world, letting them break off my flesh and embroider their names into my scars. At the end of the day, when faced with my mortality...I am weak. Fragile. Selfish. In love.

Human.

"You want me to..." Alistair goes green, sick with the very thought. "Salem, I...she...how do I know there are no...teeth?"

I want to laugh, but all mirth has fled from me. Instead, I fall to my knees, making no attempt to hide the tears that stream down my face. I am willing to be broken, in this moment. I am willing to get on my knees before the man I have half-carried through the Blight. Because I have need of him now in a way I never have before.

In my selfishness, I am taking from him something he will possess only once. I am asking him to sacrifice a memory that is forever seared in the mind. To give his innocence to a woman who cares for no one but herself.

"Alistair, please." I beg him, beseeching him with my eyes. "I know that this is distasteful, and I would find it equally so, but, I beg you..."

"Beg?" he asks. "Beg? Salem, there is no begging that can make this right. There is no defense...what you have described to me is dark magic. Before I was a warden, I was a templar, and..."

"And you hated it." I interrupt him, trying to distract him from the thought of magic.

My mind is already aswirl with all the dark implications of this pact, this bond, this ritual. I know that it is evil; every time that it is mentioned my soul feels as though it is soaked in soot. Morrigan is asking me to sunder all that I believe in, all that I hold dear...and I am willing. Maker save me, I am willing.

If this ritual is done, if this does indeed transpire...then I will never be clean again. I will never greet the Maker. I will never see my father's face or my mother's smile. I will never hear Oren's voice raised in laughter...I will not know eternity in paradise. But I will have a life with Leliana. I will be able to greet her with the morning, listen to her songs, embrace her and lose myself in her until we become but one soul.

It is worth it. It must be worth it.

"I did hate my life as a templar." Alistair admits. "But I hated dark magic equally. I've seen the things it does to people, Salem. Power turns good men into vile creatures and Morrigan is...already vile. How...how could you even consider this? It is not in your character."

"Do not think that I hold this idea in high esteem, Alistair." I sigh and bury my tear-stained face in my hands. "I want to live. Is that a crime?" I look up at him through reddened, swollen, scarred eyes. "Is it a crime to wish to live, to love?"

He walks to me and rests his hand on my shoulder, sitting down beside me on the bed I have asked him to share with...with a soulless harpy.

"I understand, Salem." he smiles, but there is worry behind it. "If you were Leliana, and I were you...if I had a love so deep and true and powerful...I would do much the same. Go to Morrigan and tell her," he heaved a sigh full of remorse and apprehension, "tell her that her ritual will be completed."

Unable to speak, overcome with emotion, I fling my arms around him, pulling him tight to me. He returns the embrace, wishing that it could be more...knowing, as we both do, that it cannot.

I leave his embrace and walk towards the door, my heart heavy, my shoulders stooped, my sorrow knowing no bounds. I wish that I might fulfill this ritual myself...if only to...to spare my brother this trial. I look back at him and his eyes are full of grief and fear. Behind those emotions I see the overwhelming depth of his love...a love and a heart that he has wasted on someone who cannot be his. For I am taken already.

I know that you do this because you love me, Alistair, as more than a warden, more than a sister. I am sorry that I asked this of you...and I am even more ashamed that I am allowing you to consent. Maker, please forgive me. Please.

I walk through the hall and find Morrigan's door. I know that I can turn back. I know that I can lie and tell her that Alistair refused her offer. I could keep my soul clean and preserve Alistair's innocence. But I cannot...I cannot return to Leliana, cannot hold her and know that I chose to die instead of to be with her. All that she has known and loved has been taken. I will not add to that suffering. It is another thing that I cannot do.

I open the door and see the witch standing before the fire, looking every inch a predator. In rare form, her hair is down, a glossy raven waterfall. She turns to me, backlit by the flames, and I can understand those that would lust after her. She is the beauty of a diamond, cold and sharp, but an object of desire, nonetheless.

"Well?" she asks, her tone that soft razor's edge once more.

"He is waiting for you." I glare at her, burning from her acidic gaze, but unwilling to back down from this moment.

I am sinning, and I will own my transgression. I will not be shamed for my choice, no matter how despicable it is.

Morrigan smiles and it makes me sick. My gut twists, my heart aches, and I want to recant all that I have done. But I will not. I cannot.

"Then I shall not waste my time." she says, walking towards the door I have entered.

"Morrigan," I stall her before she departs, catching her about the arm, "is there...will this work?"

"In truth," she sighs, "I am uncertain. The prerequisites have all been seen to, but at the end of the day, magic works as it will. I will need to be near you for this ritual to be effective, at least at the edge of the city where the archdemon strikes."

"And if you die?" I ask. "If you are injured or fall in the battle?"

"Should I fall, 'tis all for naught." she whispers, and in her eyes I see the slightest hint of trepidation.

"Then you will accompany Eamon." I order. "We have already agreed that his detachment will delay before departing Redcliffe. I will not risk your life, Morrigan. After the battle, you are free to go."

"With your promise to find me still intact?" she glares at me, eating into my already shrieking heart.

"What do you think, witch?" I hiss.

"That you should be grateful and think of nothing but the lie you will be able to live." she answers. "You will not regret this, Salem."

She walks through the door, and my eyes follow her to Alistair's room. She knocks, the door opens, and she enters. I lean against the door post, sliding to the floor in despondence, sick at the thought of what Alistair is sacrificing...for me.

"I already do regret it, Morrigan." I whisper to the nothing and the no one that will hear.

After a moment of struggling to gather my composure, I get to my feet, tracing my way back to the room that I share with Leliana. I enter as silently as I may, not wishing to wake her. I walk to the bed and let my fingers whisper over her face, smoothing the lines of worry that crease her features, even in slumber.

I love you, Leliana. So much that the sanctity of my soul is forfeit. So much that I willingly break the laws of heaven and right. I have told you before that you are everything to me. That was never more true than it is now, in this moment. Sleep well, dear heart...and dream sweetly.