25. Until Responsibilities Return.

"Rabbit's back?" Luka cried. He stood up with a clatter when he accidentally nudged the table. "Where? Did they get the Paragon?"

It had been over a month since Rabbit had left for the Deep Roads, and Luka had been going out of his mind with worry with every passing day. The surge of relief he felt now was nearly enough to bring him to his knees.

"Calm yourself," Morrigan snapped. She seemed oddly irritable, even more so than usual. "Everyone has returned, and they have the Paragon's blessing. Breanne, however, seems to have sustained injury. Wynne is treating her."

"What?" Luka gasped in alarm, his body tensed and legs poised to run. "How bad? Is she awake? What happened?"

"I am unsure," Morrigan stated, "but the golem and that insufferable elf seemed distressed." She crossed her arms and looked to the side as Luka's heart rate sped in panic. "I am no healing mage," she said almost angrily. "As such, I can do nothing to aid in her recovery so have made no effort to assess her true condition."

"It's not about being able to help," Luka hissed furiously. "It's about being there. Where is she?"

Morrigan gazed at him thoughtfully for a few seconds that felt like decades. "I shall accompany you, I suppose," she decided. "Follow me and do try to restrain your panic."

Much to Luka's surprise, Morrigan led them to Orzammar's Royal Palace. He struggled not to dash ahead and tear apart every room until he found Rabbit, but he reigned in his terror in preference for trailing after Morrigan in impatient silence. Morrigan knocked on a door near the Royal Wing, and Luka almost shattered with tension while he waited for the door to open. He was surprised to see Zevran peer through, but the assassin just waved them in without even a playful smirk or a word of welcome.

"Be very quiet," Zevran murmured as he closed the door gently. "I do not want Wynne's concentration to break."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Luka swept past him and scurried to Rabbit's bedside. Wynne was slumped on a chair near the headboard, one hand placed on Rabbit's heart and the other clutching a half-empty lyrium potion. Rabbit herself was spread prone atop the blankets, her eyes closed, and her breathing normal. As far as Luka could tell, she was just unconscious with no physical wounds on her body. He relaxed now that it seemed she was in no immediate danger, and he turned to Zevran questioningly. Zevran grimaced and waved them both back outside to talk.

"What's wrong with her?" Luka asked the moment he could. "She looks fine."

"I don't fully understand," Zevran said, "but it seems the problem is with her magic."

"How so?" Morrigan inquired curiously. "Such a thing is highly irregular."

"It started about halfway through the journey," Zevran explained. "She killed an ogre with one spell—diced it up into little ogre steaks quite impressively, I must say—and then she passed out. She woke up shortly after, but with severe pain in her hands and difficulty casting magic." Zevran furrowed his brows in concentration. "I believe she said that… she lacked the mana to keep up the spell, so she also used a… mana regeneration spell that drained her energy. She apparently ran out of energy but kept up the spell, which resulted in physical harm."

"Blood magic?" Morrigan said. Luka looked at her sharply, but she did not seem to be sarcastic or even surprised.

Zevran sighed and leaned his back against the wall. "No, our little Warden explained that… She said… she said it wasn't blood magic. She specified that."

"Then what sort of magic is it?" Morrigan prodded. "Why has it incapacitated her so?"

"I don't know," Zevran replied tiredly. "She did not seem keen on admitting or explaining the extent of her condition."

"If you cut off her leg, she'd make a damn joke about hopping like a rabbit," Luka growled in response. "Of course she didn't explain! What did you see?"

Zevran raised an eyebrow at Luka's aggressive tone. "She does not let people see what she does not want to be seen, my dear friends," he replied crossly. "Bree said her condition was temporary, but it did not go away even with various potions and poultices. It became difficult for her to cast spells to the point where the most basic of spells began harming her beyond her hands. On the return journey, she collapsed and has not awoken since. Our qunari friend had to carry her out of the Deep Roads."

"I did not see any physical harm," Morrigan remarked with a clinical interest, echoing the thoughts that Luka was too agitated to voice.

"Physical may not be the correct word," Zevran amended. His previous frustration fading, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced between Luka and Morrigan. "She feels immense pain and has trouble controlling the afflicted areas. Her hands, that is."

"Why didn't you help her?" Luka snarled, and Zevran frowned at him.

"I tried," he retorted. "As I said, Bree is not receptive to aid, and none of us are particularly gifted when it comes to healing magic. Potions and poultices were only temporarily helpful."

"And why didn't anyone stop her from doing magic?"

Morrigan scoffed at Luka and shook her head derisively. "You should know better than anyone that attempting to dissuade Breanne from her course of action is inadvisable."

"Yes, but…" Miffed at everyone's logic, Luka paced up and down the large hallway. "I told her to bring Wynne, dammit!"

"Powerlessness is not a pleasant feeling," Zevran supplied with careful sympathy.

Luka resisted the urge to yell at him again. He chose only to nod, but he could not help clenching and unclenching his hands.

"This still does not explain what is preventing her from casting magic," Morrigan interjected thoughtfully. "Is it simply the physical trauma to her hands, or is it something deeper?"

"Deeper," Zevran replied in an assured tone. "She mentioned that she was losing the ability to… touch the Veil, as she put it."

"She is becoming Tranquil?" Morrigan all but shouted. Luka and Zevran both froze in shock at the ferocity in her tone and the panic in her eyes. She collected herself when she noticed their stares. "Answer me," she ordered coldly.

"I… do not understand," Zevran said. He watched Morrigan with a wary gaze as though expecting her to attack.

"When a mage's link to the Fade is cut," Morrigan explained impatiently, "they become Tranquil. They lose all emotion, desire, and wonder. They are nothing more than an empty shell of a person."

"No, no, she is still herself," Zevran assured them before Luka could begin panicking as well. Morrigan relaxed significantly, but Luka could not share the sentiment. "Our little Warden said that she can… sense the Veil or the Fade or what have you, but she has difficulty accessing it."

"Fascinating," Morrigan murmured. "I have never heard of such a thing. Then again, Breanne's methods and abilities have always been rather irregular."

"Fine, fine, but will she be all right?" Luka asked anxiously. "I don't understand how to help her."

"You cannot," Zevran retorted. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but it is the truth. None of us can do anything."

"So we just wait? How can I just wait?"

"Just as I am," he replied gravely. "Anxiously but quietly."

Luka took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm his mind. "...Can we go back in now?" he asked when he could manage a steady voice. "I want to… be there." Zevran nodded and reopened the door. He shot an expectant glance at Morrigan, but she did not join Luka and Zevran inside.

Wynne was now asleep in her chair, her face exhausted, and Rabbit looked the same. Luka rushed forwards to make absolutely sure nothing was wrong physically, but Rabbit still looked perfectly healthy. And yet, he was not convinced. Luka was loathe to wake the clearly exhausted Wynne, but he was far too impatient to leave her be.

"Is Rabbit okay?" were the first words out of Luka's mouth the moment he noticed Wynne blinking awake after Luka shook her shoulder. "What's wrong with her?"

Wynne stared at him blankly for a few moments until her eyes focused. "Ah. This is nothing life-threatening," Wynne said, and Luka's legs grew weak with relief. "The problematic areas have been, for lack of a better word, fried from channeling so much magic through her physical body. If Breanne had been properly taught, she may have discovered that staffs were made in part for that exact reason. I doubt she will ever regain full use of her hands."

"What does that mean?" Luka asked, his previous fear returning in full force.

"It means that she will have to relearn how to cast magic," Wynne stated calmly, "or she may have lost the ability completely. She also may not be able to perform tasks such as drawing a bow."

"Are… you sure?" Luka said hoarsely. "Can't she heal?"

"Perhaps," Wynne said without significant emotion. "That is up to the Maker."

Zevran chuckled slightly. "Then she is once again scarred for life."

Luka spun to glare at Zevran only to find that the assassin was looking far too tense to fit his nonchalant tone. Luka forced himself to not yell at Zevran. The assassin was likely almost as worried as Luka.

"Don't… joke about that," was all he said in a soft voice. "Her magic is very important to her." Zevran did not reply, but Luka knew he had heard. "Oh," Luka suddenly realized. "Will she still be able to play music?"

"Perhaps," Wynne snapped, her temper frayed, "and perhaps not. I do not know. We must wait and see how the healing progresses."

"She would be heartbroken," Zevran muttered. He cast a worried glance to Luka, who mirrored it. "Are you sure we can do nothing?"

"Yes," Wynne said briskly. "You can do nothing. Feel free to remain, but I am retiring to my room. Please do not disturb me unless there is urgent need."

"What if she wakes up?" Luka asked, alarmed. "What do we do?"

"Whatever you think is best," Wynne retorted. "I have done all I can to help her. Good night."

With a single nod, Wynne stood up, swaying on her feet, but rejected any help offered in preference for leaving on her own. A few moments after the door closed behind her, Morrigan slipped in. She immediately strode to Rabbit's bedside and stared critically. She checked for a pulse, inspected the girl's fingers, and then stepped away with a huff.

"That Circle-bred charlatan did nothing of consequence," Morrigan muttered. She sat down into Wynne's chair and removed the satchel she had slung over one shoulder. Zevran and Luka watched as she rummaged through the contents to procure herbs and a few vials filled with various liquids. She set to work mixing solutions and grinding herbs without even acknowledging either elf's presence.

"Should I ask what you're doing?" Luka piped up cautiously. Morrigan's intentions were always difficult to discern—even more so when Rabbit was concerned.

"Settling debts," the mage replied cryptically. "Both of you, leave so that I may concentrate." Luka and Zevran traded uncertain glances but followed instructions when Morrigan tossed them a glare.

"Do you… think she'll be okay?" Luka asked the moment he and Zevran were safely out of the room. "Wynne didn't sound very optimistic."

"If anyone can rescue nostra dolce it would be the dark temptress, no?" Zevran answered with far more confidence than Luka was feeling.

"I suppose Morrigan wouldn't hurt Rabbit," Luka mused, "and she doesn't have the same moral inhibitions as Wynne. I'm just hoping she won't do something… for her own agenda."

"Is it not worth the risk?"

Luka considered the question silently until he and Zevran exited the palace. "I think it is," he finally answered doubtfully. "I hope it is."

"On the bright side," Zevran added coyly, "little Bree will wake to find her love at her bedside, working tirelessly to heal the injuries of her body and, eventually, her heart."

"If anyone could snag Morrigan, it would be Rabbit," Luka admitted. He shuddered. "Maker, they would be a terrifying pair."

"Their combined beauty could crush empires."

"Not to mention their skill in battle."

"And their heartrending insults."

"Dazzle their enemies senseless," Luka summarized, "bully them into submission, and murder them with a smile."

"Poor, chaste Alistair is in the midst of stage two," Zevran added sadly. "I suppose we should plan his funeral. It would be terrible if died a virgin, though, so I will dedicate my life to remedying this malady."

"He'll be tormented by all sides," Luka sympathized. "I'm feeling worse for him every second."

"Yes, because he has not yet lived a fulfilled life of pleasure."

Luka's smile faded in the silence that followed. He knew it was his turn to quip and continue the dialogue, but he just could not. He was drowning in worry for Rabbit and what exactly Morrigan was doing. He was not sure if he trusted Morrigan enough to risk Rabbit's safety even though he had just told Zevran that Morrigan would never harm her.

"She will be fine," Zevran said quietly. "No matter what, la piccola bellezza will survive, and she will adapt. She always adapts quite well, does she not?"

"I guess she does," Luka mumbled. "I just don't want…"

"We should never wish harm on those we care for," Zevran said. "And yet, we must accept that it may happen and find ways we can help. Morrigan is helping now, and we might be able to help later. If not, we must accept it."

"I suppose so," Luka said unhappily. He knew Zevran was right, but it hardly mattered.

"Now, enough worry," Zevran said cheerfully. "I will be off revisiting some of my previous conquests in a luxurious bath. Perhaps you wish to join me?"

"No, no," Luka said with a small, forced smile. "I'll be fine."

"I highly doubt that," Zevran replied, "but do as you will." Zevran winked at him and sauntered off as though he did not have a care in the world.

Luka watched him leave and looked around unhappily. He was contemplating returning to Tapster's, but he felt the itch to walk around. He hunched his shoulders but decided to let his feet carry him to a random destination. He knew that wandering through the Diamond Quarter or Dust Town would sour his mood, so he made his way to the Commons.

Even though Rabbit and the others had only just returned, rumors were already spreading. Luka overheard variations of the same story: The Warden had returned from the Deep Roads with a Paragon's favor, the Warden had suffered dire injuries, and the Wardens were clearly favoring Bhelen. Luka was relieved that Rabbit had at least completed the mission, but the constant reminders of her condition had him even more preoccupied with worry than before his walk. Desperate for distraction, Luka instantly changed his course to meet Shale, whom Luka spotted loitering near Tapster's. The golem was in conversation with a tottering redheaded dwarf who looked somewhat familiar. Shale was clearly exasperated and was threatening to smash the dwarf to a pulp when Luka approached.

"If Branka's really dead," the dwarf slurred at Shale, "then I've got nothin' to lose anyways. I don't have a house name or my honor as a warrior, and now I don't have my wife."

"I could not care less," Shale retorted. "Off with you, pest."

"Pest," the dwarf muttered. "Always a sodding pest, aren't I." He released a heavy sigh and then turned away. "Nothing left for me here," he growled. "I'm done with this place."

He took a deep swig from a wineskin in his hand and strode away from Shale with unsteady legs. Muttering under his breath, he swept past Luka and made for the Hall of Heroes. Luka watched his progress for a moment before looking to Shale.

"Hello, elf Warden," Shale rumbled. Luka knew it was not an insult, but he still curled his lip in distaste at the descriptor. "How is the fragile one? I assume you have already rushed to her bedside."

"Rabbit's…" Luka hesitated, unsure himself. "Morrigan thinks she can help, but I don't know."

"So easily do creatures of flesh break," the golem said contemplatively. "Tell me," it said abruptly, staring intently at Luka, "if it had the choice, would it choose to become a golem? Let it assume that it would not have a control rod."

"Become a golem?" Luka asked confusedly. "How would I do that?"

"Just answer," Shale said impatiently. "Would it not prefer to be made of unbreakable stone and more powerful than any enemy?"

"I…" Luka's first instinct was to say 'no,' but he forced himself to consider it a moment longer. "Being as strong as you are seems handy," he admitted, "but… you can't feel things, can you? You have so many limitations because of how large you are and, well, living forever is…" Luka shuddered at the thought. "It seems a heavy price to pay," he said, "for being able to smash things more."

Shale contemplated him deeply, then nodded. "I see," it said. "I only ask because the small Warden and I learned that golems are created using creatures of flesh. I was once a female dwarf."

Luka gaped at the golem and tried to wrap his head around the cynical, disdainful golem being anything but a rock monster. "O-oh," he choked out. "Do… huh. Can you return to being a dwarf?" he inquired when he thought about what Shale had asked.

"I do not know," Shale replied, "but I do not wish to. Why would I? I remember my life as a dwarf very distantly and I cannot imagine becoming such a weak creature again. To me, becoming that would be a heavy price."

"That makes sense," Luka said, but he was not sure if he believed Shale's conviction. "If you ever change your mind, though," he added impulsively, "we can always search for a way to… reverse the procedure."

"That will hardly be necessary," Shale huffed, "and I cannot return the favor. The means of creating golems has been destroyed. I may be the last of my kind, at least the last with free will."

"I'm… sorry," Luka said awkwardly. Shale did not seem too bothered by the idea of being the last golem, but discerning its emotions was difficult. "It's good you're here, though," he added. "The Deep Roads must have been unenjoyable."

"Indeed," Shale retorted. "The endless carrying of supplies was a ridiculous waste of my skills, and I expect the small Warden to compensate me very handsomely."

"I'm sure she will."

"Oh, I will make sure she does."

Luka smiled slightly, convinced that Shale cared far more than it let on. With a quick nod to the golem, Luka finally felt calm enough to find Alistair and tell him the news—if he did not know already. Hopefully, they could get the dwarves' promise of aid before Rabbit even woke up.