Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. And thank you everyone for letting me know your thoughts. I am so happy that you were all so surprised! I got a few comments about how quickly I killed Sebastian off that I couldn't reply to, so I thought I would mention that I had plans about keeping him around for awhile at first. I thought he might kidnap Anders, etc., but then I realized it would distract from the rest of the story if I followed this thread too far. That's why I decided to wrap things up quickly with Sebastian and keep the focus on Anders' journey. I do appreciate the feedback, however!
Anders felt as if he were existing in two places at once. Part of him was still grounded within his dying body, slowly going numb as his senses failed one at a time. The rest of him was tearing free, buoyantly floating up and drifting somewhere near the ceiling with only a narrow tether to tie the two pieces together. He didn't know if this second state of being was a dream, simply his mind's way of coping with reality, or if it was actually happening, an out of body experience that was merely a prelude to death. Either way it was disturbing.
Floating above the bloody scene, he watched as Varric rocked his body slowly, still speaking in a shaky voice and diligently telling the story that Anders had requested. Tears were falling steadily from the dwarf's eyes, landing on Anders' face like salty rain. Anders could hardly feel the dampness anymore.
Shaking him when he noticed he was drifting away again, Varric begged in a broken voice, "Blondie. Blondie, wake up. The story isn't over yet."
Anders tried to respond, but he was so tired that the most he could manage was a flicker of his eyelids.
Taking a shaky breath, Varric leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, his shoulders shuddering with silent sobs. The part of Anders that was outside his body tried to reach out to comfort him, but he couldn't make contact. He could do nothing but watch.
Varric looked up when he heard boots pounding down the hallway. A group of Inquisition soldiers appeared in the doorway with Blackwall and Cullen in the lead. The commander froze as soon as he saw Anders cradled in Varric's arms. "Maker's breath," he gasped, his expression crumpling. Glancing back over his shoulder, he demanded, "Where is Cassandra with that healer?" One of the soldiers ran off to check, and Cullen ordered two others to make sure that none of Sebastian's forces had gotten away.
"I found another potion," Sera cried from the hall, pushing past the soldiers and slipping on the bloody floor as she rushed to Anders' side. She was still panting for air when she crouched down and held out a bottle to Varric.
Opening it with trembling fingers, Varric forced as much as he could into Anders' mouth. Anders tried to cooperate, but he could barely find the energy to swallow when he felt the cool liquid hit the back of his mouth. The potion tingled as it rolled down his throat, but the effects didn't spread far; there was only so much that health potions alone could fix.
Anders lost track of time then, floating above the room in a daze and only catching occasional snippets of conversation as the room became more crowded. Cassandra appeared with the Inquisition's most powerful mages in tow. Vivienne, Solas and Dorian each took turns examining him and doing what they could to repair the damage, but it was too late. None of them were healers, and even if he had been conscious enough to direct their efforts, not everyone could draw on the sort of energies he used to heal people. He wasn't sure that even he could have saved himself at this point.
They began to argue. Cullen and Cassandra were demanding a miracle, but they had all done as much as they could. He wanted to tell them to stop trying. This was the death that had been waiting for him ever since that fateful decision in Kirkwall. Deep down, he had always known his life would end this way—although he'd never expected to die surrounded by so many people who cared about him when it happened.
He watched as Dorian knelt down beside his body and pressed a hand against his forehead. Leaning forward, he replaced his hand with his lips in a brief kiss—a kiss Anders couldn't even feel. "I'm sorry," he whispered before pulling away.
More of Anders was floating outside of his body now than was still in it. He hovered near Varric's shoulder and wished that he could pull the dwarf into a hug. Varric's expression had gone blank with shock now, and his grip on Anders was finally starting to slacken as reality took hold.
"I won't accept that," Cullen snapped loudly, drawing Anders' attention. "There must be someone at this party with some healing skills! Orlesians are always trying to murder each other or calling for duels. Surely they plan for this sort of thing!"
"Cullen," Cassandra said sadly, gazing down at Anders' dying body with a dark expression. "It's too late. Even if we found a healer now...what could they do?"
Cullen turned, growling in frustration as he stomped a few steps away.
"So many long faces," a new voice said suddenly from the doorway. The Empress' advisor stood there, aloof and confident. "One might think that someone had died."
"Suspiciously astute," Dorian said sharply, taking a step back to give her a direct view of Anders.
She pursed her lips. "He is dying," she said, cocking her head thoughtfully. "But not yet dead."
"He will be soon," Solas replied, brows furrowing as he regarded the woman.
Lips curving slowly, she nodded. "It would be a shame if the Inquisitor died so unnecessarily. Perhaps I could assist?"
"What do you want, Morrigan?" Leliana demanded, stepping out of the shadows behind her.
"Ah, the bard. Always eavesdropping." Morrigan smirked at her. "But your unspoken suspicions are unfounded. I only want to help."
"What can you possibly do that we cannot?" Dorian asked. "You don't strike me as a healer."
Shrugging, Morrigan moved closer, stepping carefully over the bloodstains. "I have never studied the modern healing arts, 'tis true. But I have studied many ancient methods of magic, some of which might provide a solution here." She crouched down and touched one of the puddles of blood with a finger. Lifting it to her lips, she touched it with the tip of her tongue and frowned. "I would need to act quickly if he is to be saved."
"What do you intend to do?" Cassandra asked uncertainly.
"She plans to use blood magic," Dorian answered for her, teeth flashing in disgust.
Anders shivered, floating in between Morrigan and his body as if he could do something to stop her. She stepped right through him.
"No," Varric said suddenly, his voice so rough that Anders hardly recognized it. Gently allowing Anders' body to slide off his lap, he sat back on his heels and looked down at it with a gut-wrenching expression. "He wouldn't want that. He hates blood magic."
"Even if it is the only way to save his life?" Morrigan asked with an arched brow.
Anders nodded emphatically even though he knew she couldn't see him, and to his relief Varric said, "Yes. He'd rather die."
She rolled her eyes and looked around at the others. "He has already spilt enough blood to sustain the spell. No fresh blood would need to be sacrificed. No one will be harmed."
"No," Varric repeated.
"What is your price?" Leliana countered, clearly considering the proposition. Anders wanted to scream at her.
But Morrigan only shook her head. "Must there always be a price? I offer this freely. The world would not benefit from the Inquisitor's death—not at such a time of instability. I see no point in watching him die when he could be saved."
Leliana's eyes narrowed. "That's unusually selfless of you."
Morrigan smiled but remained silent.
"Do it," Cullen said with such authority that no one else even attempted to disagree. Anders gaped at him in shock, unable to fathom why he, of all people, would agree to such a thing. The very idea seemed diametrically opposed to his character, but Cullen was wearing an expression of sheer determination, the sort of face a person wore when they were about to endure something unpleasant but knew it was the only way to reach the conclusion they sought.
Arching her brows at Cullen, the witch nodded. "As you wish."
Varric lunged forward to stop her, but at Cullen's direction, one of the soldiers dragged him out of the way.
The others all watched in shock, too undecided to either help or prevent the proceedings, and Anders panicked, turning to Solas for help in the hope that the mage might be able to see him since he was more spirit at the moment than human. But Solas didn't react, merely watching Morrigan work with a guarded expression. The others either stared uncertainly or looked away in shame. Varric continued to fight against the soldier that was restraining him and another joined to help.
Watching helplessly, Anders saw Morrigan rise to her feet, closing her eyes and lifting her hands, the blood lifting from the floor along with them, swirling through the air in complicated patterns as she began to mutter under her breath. The blood undulated and began to glow with a dull red light, pulsing nauseatingly as it moved faster and faster, Morrigan's voice growing in volume with every passing second. Anders tried desperately to catch someone's attention, waving his hands and shouting in their faces, but he couldn't reach any of them.
Then he felt a tug of pressure. His body was arching up off the ground, the ruddy light swirling fast around his wound and binding it back together within a brilliant ball of light. His tether was growing stronger, yanking him back into his body as the room spun around him. He gasped suddenly, and his eyes opened wide, fingers clawing at the floor as he struggled to breathe. The blood magic knitted him back together with painful heat, but it was nothing compared to the pain he had felt the last time he'd been in his body.
All at once it was over and he was left panting for air, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember how to move. When his eyes finally came into focus, he was looking up at Morrigan from a hand's breadth away. Smiling, she nodded in acknowledgment and backed away, leaving him to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. The room did not look exactly the same as it had during his out-of-body experience, the walls closer and the candles dimmer than they had seemed before. The angles and proportions were different, and the colors more rich and varied.
"Inquisitor?" Cassandra asked tentatively.
The others were all staring at him as if they were worried that Morrigan had brought back a demon in his place, and he couldn't blame them for their concern. He would have had the same worry if their positions had been reversed. Despite Morrigan's insistence that there was no price for what she had done, he knew better; blood magic always had a price.
"The Empress," he said, voice croaking as he attempted to redirect their attention to something more important. "Did we save her?"
Anxious laughter greeted his question, and Leliana nodded emphatically. "Yes. Josie is still sorting things out between Celene, Briala and Gaspard, but we stopped Florianne. With all the evidence you gathered, we might even be able force them all to work together."
Anders nodded, swallowing hard and tasting the bitterness of copper on his tongue. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he felt Dorian moving behind him to help him sit. Dorian's fingers brushed over the wound on his back, and Anders was surprised to feel no pain, only the tingling of overly sensitive raw skin.
"Astounding," Dorian murmured. "There's barely even a scar."
"How do you feel?" Cassandra asked, kneeling down beside him.
Anders shook his head, at a loss for words. "Alive."
He turned to thank Varric for his attempt to defend his wishes, but the dwarf was gone. Looking around the room, he saw that Cullen had also retreated, and Solas and Vivienne had cornered Morrigan, questioning her urgently while the witch rolled her eyes with impatience. Leliana was listening to them with a frown.
Watching them all, Anders suddenly felt very tired.
Seeing his eyelids drooping, Cassandra patted his knee. "You must be exhausted."
"Just rest," Dorian said in his ear, wrapping an arm around his waist protectively with no regard for the blood on Anders' clothes. "We'll take care of you."
Anders relaxed into his embrace and let his eyes slide closed, and this time instead of floating away he began to sink, darkness rushing in around him like the waters of a flood.
Author's note: So you can stop worrying! He's okay.
