Denerim, 9:31 Dragon
The beast was on the ground, its attention solely on Alistair as he danced in front of it with his sword and shield. Kallian knew the man planned to die in her stead, but Ferelden needed a king; and it had to be him. If the ritual Morrigan had performed the night before had taken, then neither of them had to worry about being the Warden that made the killing blow. Both would come out alive in the end; one a king, and one a hero.
Something in the way her heart beat switched tempos told her that it was time to make that strike, while it was not looking at her. She was less than twenty yards from it; she took off at top speed, the boiled leather soles of her boots slapping the cobblestones with every step. Ten yards, five. Her muscles in her legs coiled like snakes to strike, her hands positioned her twin short swords outwards. She leaped onto the monster's back, scrabbling on its rotted scales to reach the head while it thrashed in protest beneath her. One sword into the back of its neck for a hand hold, and one in its right eye socket was all it took.
The world reverberated with sound of its death call, and Kallian squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation for the sweep of the same fate to overcome her; but it never did. The monster went still beneath her, she could hear the sounds of people yelling and Little's barks, could smell the scent of flames. She was terrified to open her eyes, scared that it would alert the Maker he had forgotten to take her and he would come back for her.
"Kallian!" The plaintive cry reached her ears, and her eyes pried themselves open to look down and see Leliana below her, tears streaming down her bloody and soot covered face.
For the first time since she had leapt upon the creature's back, Kallian let out a long breath that she did not know she was holding. "Leliana," she breathed in relief, letting go of the hilt of her left blade to fall free, sliding down more gracefully than she felt she could. If Leliana hadn't been there to catch her, she would have fallen when her knees gave out a second later. Instead her lover held her entire weight while Kallian gasped for missed breaths against the leather vest Leliana wore.
"You're alive." The sobs from deep within the bard were palpable, shaking Kallian as they quaked. "You're alive." Leliana was lost on a mantra of reaffirmation that Kallian was standing there with breath in her lungs and a beating heart. "How are you alive?"
"Long story, best told in private. Maker, Leliana." Kallian melted into her lover, eyes sliding closed again as she tried hard to mute the noises around them to focus on the steady thudding in the Orlesian bard's chest. "Marry me. Tomorrow."
"Yes." Not a single pause to debate her answer, and the abruptness of the answer startled Kallian so that she pulled back to look up at her.
"I was half joking," the Warden chuckled, her eyes stinging with the tears gathering there. "Are you serious?"
"Completely." Leliana cupped her face with one hand, pulling her up to her mouth for a chaste kiss. "It would be my honor to be your wife."
Kallian's strength reentered her legs as she pushed herself up on the tips of her toes to kiss Leliana again, only this time not so chastely. A loud clearing of someone's throat behind them made them break apart, both of their faces lightly tinged in pink. Alistair stood there awkwardly, blushing a bit himself, but smiling softly at Kallian.
"You did it. It's dead." He made a gesture with a gauntlet covered hand at the corpse steaming in the chill of the night air as if it were a prize horse.
"We did it," Kallian corrected him. Then she grinned widely. "Your Highness."
Alistair's face paled beneath the black streaks across it, and he swallowed hard. "I... suppose you're right. That's a thing now, isn't it? Blimey. King Alistair Theirin. I'm not sure how I like that."
"I like it a sight better than King Loghain Mac Tir." Kallian gave a hard sniff, gently extracting herself from Leliana to attempt to stand on her own. "And you'll be fine. You have... decent shems around. And I trust you to not be a fucking asshole."
"Is that any way to speak to your king, my love?" Leliana teased her, giving Alistair a fond smile.
"No, but it's the way I have always spoken to my brother. If my king wishes me to change it, I trust him to say so?" She phrased it as a question, giving a sideways glance at Alistair, who held up his hands.
"Please be my root in reality. I don't want to get too cheese drunk on the throne." His grin at both of them was telling enough that he and Kallian would not change this day.
"Hey, any o' you bunch o' dirty nug humpers know where to get a drink?" Oghren's voice carried over from the other side of the courtyard where the thing fell, and the three of them greeted him as he hobbled over. Little was galloping up behind him, and nearly bowled the dwarf over in her path to her master, making him yell out. "Ya little shit, got no respect for nothin'!"
Kallian enthusiastically embraced her dog, accepting the many kisses the mabari gave her, noticing how Leliana also fell over the hound. The sight made her heart swell even larger than when Leliana had said yes moments ago.
"I imagine there's going to be grand banquet to honor us in all of our bravery, no?" Zevran's Antivan accent broke into the conversation, then the assassin appeared behind Oghren with Wynne's willowy form in tow. "I think we all could use some food, drink, and good company."
Kallian felt a jolt of surprise at the sight of the old shem, having assumed her death when she saved their asses earlier in the evening. Now that she knew the true nature of Wynne's existence, Kallian couldn't help but to be wary of the woman's health. She was literally a dead shem walking. Her ears twitched as Wynne gave her a knowing smile and inclined her head to the Warden.
She knew it wouldn't happen, but she wished that Morrigan would have had a change of heart during the battle, would appear at her side with her other friends. The shem was not like any other shem she knew, and not one of them standing there understood her the way the witch did. But as the minutes grew into hours that evening, the girl Kallian had met in the ruins never appeared, and the elf knew her friend was gone forever just as she had promised. It did not leave a good feeling in her gut, as much as she wished she trusted the witch's motivations.
A bath and food had not helped the emotions in her soul, and she couldn't find the bother to bid the others a good eve as she silently disappeared to her quarters with her freshly bathed dog in tow. The room was silent except the sound of the fire logs popping in the grate, and she found her way to the window to look out towards the alienage where her family survived. She had made moves to get their housing rebuilt, and paid good coin for her father and cousins to have rooms in the inn until the completion. The alienage itself lay in near ruin, the fires out but still smoldering in the white light of the moon.
"My love?"
Leliana's voice made Kal turn from the window, seeing her bard slipping in the door and closing it quietly behind her. "I'm not intruding, I hope?"
Kallian gave a tiny shake of her head, a smile on her face. "You? Never." She held out a hand to the shem and Leliana quickly strode across the room to take it, pulling Kallian into her chest for a long hug. They stood in front of the window so long that Kallian's attention was pulled back out, only this time above the city and to the stars.
"Do you remember telling me the story about Alindra and her soldier?"
"I do. You were very attentive."
"I live to hear you speak, Leliana." The bold truth of it was exactly that; Kallian was not into the stories Leliana told her by the fire on the road. It was the fact that it was Leliana telling them, reliving these characters with such a bright countenance that the elf was helpless not to fall in love with every syllable she spoke. "A fact I will never deny."
She punctuated her declaration with a kiss, one that Leliana would not allow to end for several minutes. She gave a dry chuckle when they finally parted, shaking her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I cannot reconcile the fact that you lived, after preparing myself for months for your death. Last night was bittersweet by simultaneously being the best and worst night of my entire life." Leliana's swallow was audible, and so was the whisper after. "I could not bear this world any longer after having known you in it, then having you taken from me." Her hands reached down and circled Kallian's wrists, pulling her arms up and around the bard's neck. "Tonight, I was more relieved that you still stood, than that Denerim still stood. How selfish could I be?"
Kallian shook her head at the fatalistic tone her lover held. "No more than I could, love. I am also more relieved that you still breathe while half of the population rots in carts tonight, ready to carried off to mass burn piles on the dawn." She pressed her forehead against Leliana's when the bard leaned her head forward. "If you cite yourself selfish for that, then we are even. I promise you."
"Promise me something else," Leliana begged against her lips. Her hands found the front of Kallian's tunic, clutching it desperately and pulling the elf as close to her possible.
"Anything, Leliana, it's yours." Kallian gave her a soft lip lock to try to soothe the worry lines on her shem's beautiful face, but it did not work. If anything, Leliana's worry deepened to pain that ripped at Kallian's heart.
"Promise me right now that you'll never leave me. Promise me you'll always be there when I reach over."
Kallian smiled with the ease of the answer she gave, the full sincerity in the two words she uttered. "I promise."
Adamant, 9:40 Dragon
The rift was still twisting in and out of itself, but was no longer spewing demons; that was what worried Isabela the most. An almost quiet had befallen the courtyard, the only real noise the keening of the rift and the sound of bodies being dragged and stacked on a cart. No one had seen the Inquisitor, Sera, the Seeker, Dorian, Stroud, or Hawke. The six of them had seemed to just disappear into thin air, but Isabela had a feeling about that flash of green light. She had a feeling that the rift still twisting in the courtyard was a key to them being back. She couldn't tell anyone why she felt as such; it was just an instinctual thing.
So when Sera came falling out of it with a high pitched scream just a second later, she was the only one there without a surprise. Despite her anticipation of seeing her own lover fall through, she couldn't help the smirk it gave her when Sera continued yelling about killing the Inquisitor even after she was on steady ground.
"Bloody tit, the fucking Fade, can't believe this shite!" The elf was roaring as she rolled to her feet, staggering sideways as the Seeker landed just close enough to clip her right arm that clutched her bow.
Lark, I understand you on so many levels. Hawke does the same damn thing. Bloody heroes.
Isabela bit her lip as Dorian fell after Pentaghast, then Stroud after him. Her heart started to pick up speed in her chest as no one else fell through. Thirty seconds, forty... enough that the Seeker was back on her feet and moving back to the rift, uselessly trying to reach through it, fear etched all over her bleeding face. Isabela numbly took a step forward, her mind shutting down at the overload of emotions ramming against a wall.
"Where's Hawke?" It was quiet at first, but her voice grew on the second try. "Where's Hawke?!"
Evelyn knew what Hawke was doing the moment she saw the taller woman lunge for Stroud's side. The sword pulled free, and Hawke didn't even glance at her as she used her pivot to knock the Inquisitor sideways. The assassin knew the hit was intended to push her through the rift, but Hawke had miscalculated in her attempt. The Nightmare was on them; Evelyn was just behind Hawke, fixated in a split second of terror that rendered her incapable of breathing.
She watched and heard Hawke attack first when the creature leaned to her face, saw the black bile and yellow, viscous slime spray in all directions from the impact. She felt the entire Fade move when it happened, feeling everything Hawke had explode in rage that echoed across this part of the Fade. When the demon recoiled, it smacked Hawke hard across her face and the Champion of Kirkwall fell with a thump that resounded in Evelyn's ears, and also spurned her to act. She tackled Hawke's body, fitting her arms under the unconscious woman's, pulling with all of her might. She used muscles she didn't have to pull the dead weight the last few feet, pure adrenaline and fear. It didn't matter if Hawke were dead or alive, Evelyn would not leave her here.
She had almost reached the edge of the rift when the dying demon came back for a revenge attack, and she placed herself in front of Hawke and threw her left hand into the air, releasing a pulse of pure Fade energy at the gaping wound in its face. It screamed again, and Evelyn misjudged the distance of a flailing claw; a burning sensation tore through her midriff, and she looked down to see her armor torn away. Beneath that, there was a neat laceration beginning to bleed.
No time, get Hawke, get the fuck out of here.
She held her left hand over the wound to staunch the ever-increasing bleeding as she turned back to Hawke, and lifted the Champion against her body as she pushed the two of them over the lip and back to Thedas. She held Hawke tightly against her front as they fell, and closed her eyes with a grunt of pain as her back smacked solid ground, rubble cracking her rib cage audibly but miraculously missing her spine. She opened her eyes to see the crumbling remains of Adamant around her, and dozens of people around her and Hawke. She did not hesitate; she closed the rift while pinned beneath Hawke's limp form.
"Get her to healer, now!" Evelyn yelled once the keening had faded into a ringing silence. Her head was not still from the vertigo of falling, and she could not imagine sitting up just yet. She felt hands pull Hawke's weight off her chest, then someone squatted beside her, their hands lifting her head a bit.
"Shiny?" It was Sera. "You're hurt!"
Evelyn shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. "A scratch," she grunted, pulling herself up into a sitting position now if only to reassure her imp. She felt something rip along the wound with the action, and she gasped at the sharp pain, but it quickly faded back to the same burning from before. "I may need a healer, but I have shit to say first. Help me up, imp?" Strong hands grabbed hers and tugged, and Evelyn managed to get to her feet, stumbling a bit when she felt a tug on her left side.
She looked down and saw immediately what the tear had been; her inner lining had ruptured, and portions of her intestines were now falling out of the laceration. Her heart flew up into her throat as she quickly shoved them back in and pulled the cut closed, glancing at Sera on her opposite side. When the elf didn't react, she relaxed a bit; she hadn't seen. That was good, Evelyn didn't want her to panic.
The remainder of the Wardens had been confined to this space, and that was the majority of faces looking at her when she limped to the edge of the shattered rock she had landed on. She took shallow breaths, her head starting to spin again, only this time not from falling. She was losing blood quickly, and it was starting to be a real problem. She had to make this fast.
"Listen up you bunch of flimsy minge lips! By all accounts the Wardens have committed atrocities against the Chantry, Thedas as a whole, and even your own brothers! But I know that there are those among you that have done good, will do good, and stand true to yourselves and your oaths. And one of them is right here. Warden Stroud, if you would, take responsibility for what is left, and have them see justice as you see fit. It was your family they destroyed." She staggered, but Sera caught her arm, squeezing lightly.
"Shiny?" she murmured in a whisper, and Evelyn could hear her fear. "You don't look so good."
Evelyn ignored her, but not because she wanted to. Her vision was blurring and the world felt like water beneath her feet. She was all of a sudden aware that Sera was all that had kept her from crashing to ground since she had staggered. The loud gasp the elf gave next made her heart clench.
"Shiny, you're bleeding really bad."
"Perhaps a healer would be..." She couldn't finish, she couldn't stand, couldn't focus, couldn't...
"Shiny!" Sera fell to the ground with Evelyn when the woman passed out in her arms, the impact making her grunt as she quickly looked around for someone she trusted with Evelyn. A pair of horns looming over everyone around them gave Sera a surge of hope as she screamed the man's name as loud as she could. "IRON BULL!"
Her volume and tone caught his attention immediately, and he shoved his way over to them through the throng of silver and blue. "What the hell happened?!" he demanded, bending to scoop Evelyn into his arms easily, freeing Sera to stand once more.
"I don't know, the tit fell out of the rift all bloody and-" Her voice broke off as she saw something red and slick fall over the edge of Bull's elbow, around where Evelyn was bleeding the most. She stared in horror for a second, her lip curled back in pure unbelieving disgust. "Bull, that's not her insides. It's not, right?" She was keenly aware of the hot tears sliding down her face at that moment, and they only got heavier when Bull refused to look at her.
"No," he lied in a deadpan tone. "It's not." He cleared his throat as they neared the tents at full jog. "WE NEED A HEALER! THE INQUISITOR IS DOWN!" His deep voice carried further and louder than Sera could have ever made hers, so she was deeply grateful he was the friend that was close when Evelyn fell.
A rise of activity rushed around them as people tried to get closer to see Evelyn unconscious, or tried to run the opposite way to make room for the giant man holding their leader's body, and the raging, sobbing elf in his wake. They were ushered into a large tent by several mages in yellow robes, signifying their positions as certified healers for the Inquisition. Bull gently laid Evelyn onto a table, and he tried to lower his voice so that Sera wouldn't hear his words, but he underestimated her ears.
"She isn't breathing, and there's no heart beat."
Ice shot through Sera's veins, and she coughed when she tried to suck in a breath. Bull was saying... he was saying... no, no he wasn't saying that. He was just saying it's bad. Sera tried to comfort herself with that, but the sorrowful look Bull gave her when he turned to face her made a loud sob escape her throat.
"Sera..." The gentle tone of his voice made it worse.
"No."
"There's nothing we can do but wait. Come with me."
Sera took a step backwards and to one side of him, closer to the slab where her lover lay, likely dead. "No. Anyone that tries to take me from her get arrows. I fucking mean it." She wiped her snotty nose with her sleeve angrily, eyes shooting daggers at the qunari.
He stared at her for a split second more, then gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head before exiting without her. She heard Cassandra running towards the tent, screaming Evelyn's given name at the top of her lungs, but heard Bull catch her before she could enter.
"Let me go this instance! Evelyn!" The Seeker's emotions rivaled Sera's own, but that made it worse. If Cassandra had lost control like this, then it was as bad as Sera feared.
That rubbish demon saw my fear. It just... used a different one. It took her from me.
"Cass, she's not good." He was lying to her. Evelyn was dead. He wasn't being honest. "We need to let them work."
The Seeker cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, Sera heard the even tone forced through her teeth. "I shall inform her sister. If Sera is with her, then it should come from me."
Let them work, he says. Tell her sister, she says.
Sera braved a look over her shoulder at the table, at the five strangers gathered around it babbling incessantly to each other in a panic that their leader was the one on the slab. The wheels in the elf's head began to turn, but before she could speak again with idea that was forming, another voice joined the cacophony, louder than any of theirs. It made the hairs on Sera's arms stand up.
"Out of my way!" It was not quite Evelyn's commanding voice, but close enough that it was like a knife to Sera's gut when it seared into her ears.
The tent flaps opened once more, and Sera saw Ellen Trevelyan march in with a face set in stone, Bethany and Merrill in tow. The energy that entered the tent with three mages was so tangible that Sera herself felt it, and was not surprised when a single look from Trevelyan was enough to clear out the five mages arguing over Evelyn's body.
Each of them spared a glance to Sera as they circled the table where her lover lay, but only Ellen spoke. "Sera, if you are not prepared to save my sister by any means necessary, please exit the tent. You may not want to see what happens next."
Sera swallowed hard, warring with her fear of the magic now encasing the entire tent, and the overwhelming amount of love in her heart for the dead woman on the table. She jerked her chin at Evelyn's body, glancing down at the blood and back up to Ellen's hard stare. "I don't care. Just bring her back to me."
Ellen's gaze softened ever so slightly, but only in her eyes. Her mouth remained a stern line, and the single nod she gave Sera was her own form of permission allowing the elf to stay to bear witness. The older Trevelyan's sleeves shook back when she raised her hands, and Sera saw for the first time the dagger in Ellen's palm.
Her eyes widened when she saw the duplicate blades in Merrill and Bethany's hands. She'd known Merrill was a blood mage, it was the most terrifying thing about the otherwise nondescript Dalish woman. But then she saw Bethany and Ellen both look at her for a lead, and Sera realized that this was the first time either of them had performed magic like this.
When Merrill started chanting in an ancient tongue that Sera had never heard, she felt the temperature inside of the tent drop drastically so that it gave her a shiver. When the faint striping of scars up and down the mage's forearms began to glow red, Sera felt herself take an involuntary step backwards, away from the table and closer to the door. But she moved no further, something in her gut telling her that if she opened that flap to run, she would never see her Shiny again. When Merrill pressed the knife in her right hand to her left wrist and pulled it across, she felt like she may faint. She watched, frozen now, as the elf led her bleeding appendage over the gaping wound in Evelyn's abdomen, allowing it to flow inside if her lover. The hand holding the blade carefully set it aside in favor of gently pulling Evelyn's intestines back into her gut, arranging them correctly.
The next two cuts were audibly wet as Bethany and Ellen each added to the flow of blood, even if they did not make words with their voices the way Merrill was doing. The ruby liquid poured, it shimmered in the light of the torches, cascading over the already sullied plane of her lover's torso. It was almost beautiful in its way, though Sera would die before admitting that to anyone.
"There's a pulse." Bethany's words lanced through the fixation of the act, the first spoken in so long, and Sera heard herself gasp.
"There's breath," Ellen answered her, her emotions still schooled into stone. "Her chest rises, no blood on her lungs."
Merrill began to physically shake, her teeth chattering while she still chanted, sweat rolling down her cheeks in shining rivulets, white in contrast to the red running everywhere else. Bethany reached over and clasped a hand around the bleeding wrist, seemingly stopping whatever Merrill had been doing that strained her so.
"It's okay. It's okay. We can start healing now." Bethany was panting, and Sera saw the first glint of fear in the mage's brown eyes. "We have to be quick about it, or we won't keep her."
"The spirits are still here." Merrill bit out the words, doubling over and holding her middle. "They're working with us for now. Do not let your doubts change that, Beth."
"No one is doubting anything! We have to get the wound closed or this is all for naught!" Ellen's control slipped just enough to show the desperation lying just beneath, and it oddly soothed Sera's nerves to see the human side of her again. The stone faced blood mage that had strode into the tent earlier was one of the scariest sights the elf had ever seen in her short life.
The red energy gradually turned a golden green, and within what felt like weeks the wound was no more than a seven inch long scab, three inches wide with pink edges. When the light faded from their hands, all three women sagged forward to use the edge of the table for support to remain on their feet. Sera instinctively took a step forward to grab for Ellen if she fell, but it was then that she realized how much her own body hurt. She felt like she was made of lead, like her joints had fused in her knees and made it so her legs would never bend again. When her legs buckled and she landed on the floor, the noise made the mages jump as if they had forgotten she was there at all. The look of concern Ellen had when her Trevelyan-born eyes landed on her in a tangle of her own limbs and weapons made Sera balk a bit.
"Whazzat? Don't look at me like that." Her words were slurred, drunken though she hadn't had a drop since the night before the battle. And now that she was no longer standing, she was starkly aware of how tired she was.
Ellen exchanged uneasy looks with Bethany and Merrill, then slowly took a step towards her and knelt beside her on the sandy floor. She reached a tentative hand out to place on Sera's shoulder, which the elf allowed only because she was too exhausted to protest.
Right, and it's not because she just saved Shiny's life. Pfft. Who am I pissing?
"Sera? Are you all right? How are you feeling?" The tone was low and careful, very conscious of the fact that Sera could erupt like a volcano at any moment. "Do you know how long you've been standing there?"
Sera squinted at her, trying to think about how long it had been since Bull had brought Shiny in, but couldn't discern the time. "I dunno. Couple of hours, yeah? Came in right before you lot." She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat, fighting the urge to gag at the memory of Evelyn's corpse on the slab.
Another glance between the three made Sera's gut twist harder. Ellen looked back to her and bit her lip, much like Evelyn did when she had something to say that she didn't want to say. It was really creepy how much alike the twins were, even with obvious differences. If Evelyn had not survived this, Sera would have never looked Ellen's direction again just to save herself the heartache.
"It's been three days, Sera. Nearly four."
It felt like a punch to the gut. "What? You're takin' a piss, yeah? Not funny." She knew it wasn't a joke, but like always she would die on hill of denial if death came fast enough before she admitted reason.
"Come on. We should get some rest. All of us. She will be all right. The Seeker and Bull remained here to guard while everyone else went back to the Keep." Ellen stood and held a hand out to her that she eyed warily before taking it. Ellen gave a tug and Sera rocked up to her feet, and Ellen helped her balance before she let go of her completely.
Her eyes fell onto Evelyn immediately, and she made the few quick strides it took to make it to the table side. "She needs a bath. And clothes. A bed. Then I'll worry about me." She raised her voice enough for Cass and Bull to hear her next request. "I need a minute. Alone."
Ellen gave a jerky nod, moving back to the table to place a kiss on top of her sister's head. "Stubborn asshole." It was whispered, but Sera's ears caught it plainly. She wasn't going to argue, though. The damn mage was right. Evelyn was the biggest, most stubborn arsehole she had ever known. But that was why Sera was so fucking mad about her.
The three of them exited the tent, leaving Sera alone with the sleeping Inquisitor. The archer was surprised at herself that she did not want to sock the arrogant noble in the mouth. Looking down at the peaceful expression should have pissed her off that the tit had played hero and died, then got to sleep through the aftermath of losing her and getting her back through frigging blood magic of all fucking shite.
Instead, it made her sob again, this time in a sense of relief she had never felt. Her lungs felt loose, and she breathed deeply through her nose and out of her mouth. Her tears were dripping from her chin onto Evelyn's busted chest piece, absorbing into the flakes of dried blood there. Her eyes left her face and traveled down to the wound in her side, still not small by any means, and still a serious threat if Evelyn did not take proper care. Another gut wrenching sob escaped her chest, and she leaned her head down to press her forehead to Evelyn's, reaching for a limp hand to hold in her trembling one.
If they hadn't been here. If she hadn't lived... fucking rot. All of it.
Then three words Sera had never said fell out of her mouth without her permission in the lightest of whispers. "I love you."
There was no response from Evelyn, but that was okay. Sera had needed to say that for so long that she couldn't hold it in any longer, especially after... She took another deep breath, stood up straight, and wiped her face on her shirt. Business. Business. Just a little more, then some sleep. She could eat after sleep. And she refused to sleep in a bed that did not have Evelyn in it.
She kissed Evelyn's still lips. "I'll be back, Shiny. Just getting you sorted out."
Ellen had never been so tired. Nothing in her life had taken that amount of control, concentration, dedication. If she were honest with herself, if it had been anyone but Evelyn or Bethany on that table, she likely would not have lasted. Merrill was the godsend, though. The elf had powered her and Bethany both for days, chanting until the elf could no longer speak above a whisper. Her friends, the spirits or demons or whatever, had been present the entire process. From resurrection to healing, they had assisted. And her Bethany.
Ellen's heart clenched in grief and guilt with the thought of her lover. The moment that Cassandra had found them with the words "she's gone", Bethany had sprung into motion with a growl back at the Seeker of "No, she's not."
No more questions were asked. A mutual understanding of what would have to happen went unsaid in front of the Seeker, who would likely have stopped them. Ellen would have murdered the warrior on the spot and never regretted the decision. The magic they used prevented anyone from entering that was not already there, which was why she deigned to warn Sera.
Blood magic. The demons knew them now. They knew Bethany. They knew her. They had courted them for service and received it. But Ellen dreaded the day where she would have to pay her debts to them. The very thought of it made her stomach swim dangerously, and despite her promises to herself that it was a one time only affair, she knew that if she were faced with losing another close to her heart... she would do it again.
But now, back at the Keep, she swirled a spoon in broth, having a fill of food when she arrived back the night before. She had slept deeply, but it did not feel enough to replenish what she had lost in saving her sister. A loud guffaw from across the tavern made her wince, and she shot a poisoned glance at Hawke. The Champion was leaning back in her chair with half a loaf of bread in one hand and flagon of ale in the other. Ellen sighed, feeling guilty that she was aggravated with the noise when she should be happy that Hawke had even come out of the rift. A large bruise encumbered the entire left side of her face, leaving it an ugly mix of black and yellow, her eye swollen shut. But other than the head wound a slight concussion, Hawke had been fine.
Evelyn was the big dummy in this instance. At least Isabela was happy about that. Another glance at that table saw Isabela indeed smiling happily over at her lover, an arm slung over the back of the bench on which she lounged alone. Ellen sighed again. Family was complicated, always had been. It would seem to be so in every family, even those she had chosen as such.
She gave up on her appetite, electing to leave the mess altogether to go sit with Evelyn, and maybe do a little healing on the wound if her magic would allow it. The only person in the Inquisitor's quarters was Sera, who refused to leave her sister's side even for a moment before the woman woke up. "Good morning, Sera," Ellen greeted her upon entering the little room.
"Mornin'," the elf grumbled back, making a half cocked effort at a smile for Ellen. The gesture was appreciated, and Ellen gave her a genuine one in return. "She's been talkin' in her sleep. Yelled at Hawke for a while, then said my name... well, her name for me... a lot." For some reason, her face turned red in a blush, and Ellen didn't press on about what was said.
She's coming back around. That's good.
"An apt name, to be sure. I approve of the title." Ellen made her way to the edge of the bed where a single stool sat, and perched on it. Sera was lying on Evelyn's opposite side, between her and the wall, her fingers firmly laced through her sister's. Ellen lifted Evelyn's tunic up to reveal the clean bandage over the wound, and her brow wrinkled. "Has someone been by this morning for a healing session? Bandage looks fresh."
"Yeah, your lady came in before dawn. She looks really tired."
Ellen pursed her lips. Bethany was straining herself to see Evelyn healed, but it was not speeding up the process for Evelyn. It was causing Bethany to wither, and it was worrisome. She would have to have a talk with her intended about it, and soon.
"Well, if she is talking in her sleep, then she will be waking soon. Likely today, maybe tomorrow. Hopefully sooner rather than later, so I can take a full assessment of her damage and how she is healing. And I'd also prefer her to be awake for the ride back to Skyhold. The carriage is ready for her, but I don't want to travel with her unconscious and vulnerable."
"Tits think they can get near her because she's sleeping? Pfft, let them try it." Sera snuggled closer to Evelyn possessively, her bottom lip poking out in a pout at the thought.
"Indeed. A shower of arrows and lightning sounds like a good answer, do you agree?" Ellen raised an eyebrow at the archer, who gave her a little grin.
"Yeah. I do. And um, I didn't say this the other day, but... thanks." The mood went directly to awkward, and Ellen shifted a bit on the stool.
"For what?"
"Saving her. Letting me stay with her." Sera turned her eyes onto Evelyn's face, and her expression softened immensely. "Dunno what I would have done. But I don't regret it." She looked back at Ellen, seriously. "And I won't tell."
Ellen swallowed hard, and gave a single nod of thanks. Despite what it did, the usage of the blood magic was still a call for the gallows, even if the term did not refer to Kirkwall. Though she had a feeling the Seeker knew, the woman would never acknowledge it unless someone else did. She felt that in her bones. Cassandra was loyal to Evelyn in the way she would never endanger her.
There were several people in Evelyn's Inner Circle that Ellen trusted with her sister. Sera, obviously. Cassandra. Iron Bull. Dorian. Varric. Any of them would give their life for the woman, she knew that. So their silence was the least she could ask of them without having vocalize it.
"I'll let you rest now. I have a stubborn lover to handle, as well. See you in a few hours."
Kallian sat alone in her own little niche, her dog lying at her feet where she sat at a desk. There was blank vellum pulled open before her, a quill embedded within an ink well full of shining black liquid. The elf was staring at it, fixated on the feather of the quill. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest as she thought about what it was she wanted to say to Leliana before the woman saw her again, if anything at all in writing.
There was so much to say was the problem. Where to start? Where to end? In ink, though, where anyone could read the words? She leaned forward to brace her elbows on the edge and her head in her hands. This was supposed to be the easiest part of her entire journey, the part she wanted most. This should be the easiest thing she had faced since she had walked out of the Spire all those years ago.
But that blank piece of paper terrified her. It would hold the words that would make or break her return to the castle called Skyhold with the Inquisition. The very castle in which her wife resided and placed her base of business. Kallian was no fool. She knew it would not be a warm welcome. But by the Maker's saggy ball sack, she would be heard.
The sound of voices yelling in the courtyard of the fortress caught her attention, and she tilted an ear in the direction to try and make out the words. The Inquisitor was finally awake after almost a solid week since the end of the battle. Then she heard men calling to build a caravan for Skyhold, and it made her sigh heavily as her cerulean eyes wandered back to the blank vellum.
It's now or never, Tabris. Make your choice.
Kallian clenched her jaw in determination and reached for the quill. She snatched it free of it's base and took it to task before she lost her nerve. For all of her broken promises, this would be one she would keep.
"I am coming home.
-K".