Thank you all for reading! Special thanks to suilven for her excellent betaing and patient support.
Stones moved toward the witch, bending over her still form with concern. "Morrigan?"
Varric wasn't sure it mattered if she woke up. The damage had been done, and she had proved she couldn't be trusted to use whatever knowledge she had gained for any purposes but her own. But having gambled on her, Stones didn't want to lose what little he might get.
The King of Ferelden had turned away, his hand over his face, when the witch had walked into the Well. Hawke had watched, fascinated, her blue eyes huge in her face. Cassandra had scowled, her arms crossed over her chest, disapproving. Daisy had wept, the agony of her choice, whatever deal she had made with the witch, tearing at her. Chuckles watched her with an expressionless face. Varric hoped he wasn't about to break Daisy's heart. It had been mended so many times already, he didn't think she had it in her to pull it back together and stitch the tears one more time.
The witch sat up, babbling in what sounded like elven. Chuckles glanced at her in irritation, and Daisy lifted her tear-stained face, stricken. Varric couldn't tell if it was because the words themselves had meaning, or if it was a simple reminder of the heritage they had given away. For the life of him, he didn't know why neither of them had been willing to drink when it became clear that it was that or lose the Well—but it was one story he didn't feel he had the right, or the knowledge, to tell.
Getting carefully to her feet, the witch pushed back the hair that had fallen in her face. Her eyes were wide, wild, staring at nothing. Slowly, as they all watched her, she blinked herself back to reality, and at last she said, "I … I am intact." Looking down at her hands, she nodded, her voice growing stronger as she continued, "Yes. There is much to sift through, but … but now we can—"
What they could do seemed destined to remain a mystery. Even as she spoke, a thick dark cloud of mist was forming around her ankles, swirling around Stones, tendrils reaching even the edge of the pool where the King of Ferelden stood.
"Maker's blood!" His Majesty was looking out across the expanse of the chamber to a balcony high up on the far wall.
Following his gaze, Varric hissed, "Shit."
It was Corypheus. And he was pissed. Absolutely enraged that they had gotten to the Well before he had. Varric wanted to feel triumphant, but he was mostly feeling like he was about to pee his pants with fear, and that would do his reputation no good at all.
With a shriek of rage, Corypheus rose into the air, propelling himself forward by sheer will, or so it seemed.
The witch pointed to the broken mirror that lay behind the Well. "The eluvian!"
With a wave of her hand, the dull metal swirled with light. What was she going to do, Varric wondered, blind Corypheus with his own reflection?
Alistair had drawn his sword as Corypheus took flight, but it was clear a single blade wasn't going to take this … darkspawn magister thing down. Behind him, he heard a commotion as Morrigan hurried toward the mirror, the Inquisitor and Cassandra at her heels.
"Through the mirror!" the Inquisitor shouted.
Through the mirror? Great, more of Morrigan's magic. Just what he wanted in his life, Alistair thought. But he sheathed his sword and turned. Merrill was rushing toward the mirror, her eyes shining, and he remembered Hawke telling him about Merril's eluvian and how hard she had tried to make it work. Of course she would be delighted by this. Solas was at her heels, Varric not far behind. Cassandra had already gone through, while the Inquisitor waited to make sure they all made it and Morrigan waited to presumably close it behind her.
Hawke stood alone, daggers bared, tears in her eyes as she faced Corypheus down defiantly.
Alistair caught her arm. "We have to go!"
"No. I … I killed him before. Let me kill him again."
"You can't."
"I—" She looked at him and then at Corypheus, despair written on her face.
"I'm sorry," Alistair told her. "I'm not leaving you." And he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her through the mirror. Thule and Morrigan followed him, the mirror closing behind them, leaving Corypheus to the empty Well.
He couldn't put Lilias down in the grey nowhere Morrigan led them through, because if he did, he was afraid she would stab him. A lot. She was pretty angry.
At last they tumbled through another eluvian into what looked like a disused chapel, a place the Inquisitor and Varric seemed to accept as Skyhold, or at least as safety.
Disregarding the others, Alistair let Lilias down and stood in front of her, ready to take the brunt of her anger. And she gave it to him, beating on his chest and shoulders. Vaguely he was aware of the rest of the party leaving the room, but his focus was on standing here and letting Lilias get out all her anger and frustration and fear. She had dropped the daggers, he was glad to see, but her fists were more than adequate to express her emotions. He found the continued onslaught hard to stand up to.
At last she wore herself out, turning away from him, her shoulders slumping in weariness and defeat. "Why? Couldn't you have just left me there to fight him? It wouldn't have mattered, and I could have—I could have …"
"It took you and a team of others, at your peak—"
She snorted. "Hardly. I don't know how many days we'd been stuck in that tower with nothing to eat but moldy biscuits."
"Fine, but there were more of you than one. You would have been throwing your life away."
Lilias shrugged. "Who would there be to care?"
Alistair took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "I would." She rolled her eyes, and he held her there in front of him, waiting until she looked at him again. "I would. I—I'm never leaving you behind again, Lilias. I don't know what in the Void I'm doing half the time, and I stumble around and put both feet in my mouth the other half the time, and I'm terribly dense because it's taken me most of a decade to get my head out of my arse, but …"
He stopped to take a breath, and Lilias challenged him. "But what? For once in your life, Alistair, just say what you're saying without all this flailing about!"
"I love you."
The words rushed from his mouth, taking them both by surprise. They stood staring at each other.
"Do you, really?" There was anger in her voice, but wonder, too, and something that might have been hope.
Now that the words were out, Alistair wondered why it had taken him so long to say them. "I really do."
"I …" She stopped, looking up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Don't break my heart, Alistair. Not again."
"I won't. I promise you I won't."
Slowly, hesitantly, they moved toward one another, arms sliding about each other, lips meeting at first tentatively and then with an undeniable promise.
It took several days for the bulk of the army to make its way back to Skyhold, but Cullen and the other advisors arrived late in the day after Thule's party had returned from the temple. They called a War Room meeting for the morning after they returned, and all were quite interested in Thule's portion of the tale. He had sent a raven with the basics of what had happened, carefully encoded, but the full story held them all spellbound.
Leliana's eyes were on Morrigan the whole time. Morrigan seemed … older. Calmer. Less superior. Distracted half the time, as though someone was whispering in her ear. What changes had come with the Well? And had they been worth the price … or would the price be revealed in its entirety only in the years to come? She didn't like that this power had been entrusted with the witch, but she couldn't say she was surprised, either.
"Well," Cullen said, "I'm pleased to report that we won the battle. When you went through that mirror, Corypheus and his dragon fled the field. I'm not sure why—or where they went."
"What he wanted was no longer within the Temple," Morrigan said.
"Where is it?" Thule asked her.
She looked pointedly at the Anchor, and he closed his fist over it.
"But if his troops have been vanquished, can we not consider Corypheus to be finished?" Josephine asked.
Leliana shrugged. "I doubt it. But if he is wise, he will hide and rebuild his strength before he attacks again."
"He will not hide."
The Inquisitor looked up at Morrigan. "So he'll come here, then. To Skyhold."
"Not necessarily," she responded, "but he will not remain idle. His desire exceeds his caution, frustrated as it has been at every turn. By you, Inquisitor."
It was so like Morrigan's typical superiority that Leliana couldn't help questioning it. "And exactly how could you have such insight into his plans?"
That familiar half-smile, so knowing and infuriating, played on Morrigan's mouth. "The Well of Sorrows held many voices, and they speak to me now from across the ages. They hold wisdom, secrets I never dreamed possible." As she spoke, the half-smile faded, and she looked earnestly down at the Inquisitor. "But even they fear what Corypheus has become." She nodded, then, as if someone had spoken something in her ear, a new thought. "Luckily, even he has a weakness."
"What is it, then?" Cullen asked impatiently.
"The dragon. It is not truly an Archdemon; it is, instead, rather more like a familiar, in which Corypheus has invested part of his being. Doubtless out of pride, to emulate the gods of old. That pride can be exploited."
"How?"
"Kill the dragon, and Corypheus's ability to leap into other bodies is disrupted. He can be slain."
"The voices in your head told you that?"
Morrigan smiled at Leliana's rudeness. "Yes. They did."
"Never mind who told her; it isn't as though Corypheus is just going to stand back and let us kill his dragon, the last of his power," Thule snapped.
"Yet you must do it even so." Morrigan continued, "There is a way to defeat the dragon, to match Corypheus in his power. The Well whispers it to me now."
"Oh, for the love of the Maker," Leliana whispered, rolling her eyes.
Morrigan ignored her. "I must study, converse with the spirits, and then I will be ready to tell you all, Inquisitor." She drifted out of the room as though she wasn't entirely certain where she was going or what world she was moving through.
Leliana looked at the Inquisitor. "Are you certain that was the right course of action?"
"What, you mean Morrigan and the Well? Void, no. I would rather have left it alone … but I wasn't given that option. At least this way maybe we'll get some help with Corypheus."
Thule appeared as doubtful as Leliana felt, however, and she wondered whether they would all live to regret Morrigan's possession of the Well.