"No! Wynne, you have to do something!" Ilaria cried. Flemeth was dead and Alistair lay motionless, broken and battered, blood slowly pooling around him.
Wynne sighed. "Ilaria, he's too far gone. I'm sorry but..." her voice cracked, "there's nothing I can do."
The young mage looked at the woman she'd come to respect as a mentor, a great healer. If she was giving up so easily then the damage must be even worse than she realized. Fighting off panic, Ilaria ran through spells in her head finally settling on one she'd studied long ago. It was old magic from a very old tome. It had spoken of consequences but they had been unclear. Time had worn away what warning may have been there. But the knowledge would not have changed her mind now. A calm clarity settled on her.
"Zevran, bring Morrigan and the others here. There are extra vials of lyrium in my pack. Wynne will need them to finish healing." As she turned away from him her shield came up dividing her and the dying Warden from the others. She ignored the outcry from behind her and knelt down beside the wounded warrior. She removed his helm and loosened his armor before rising to her feet to began casting.
The spell would have been considered blood magic by the templars and their Chantry but she wasn't actually drawing energy from the blood. The massive body of the Flemeth dragon was still flooded with mana; mana that would rapidly drain away with the blood. Her window of opportunity was quickly shrinking. She closed her eyes and began pulling the mana to her.
Deylan watched Ilaria with a horrified fascination. Whatever she was doing it looked very much like blood magic but that didn't entirely make sense. He could see her drawing blood from the still form of the dragon but it was dead. The red tendrils that were once life swirled out from the open wounds and began swirling around the delicate mage. When she'd surrounded herself with a sphere of red magic, he could see her manipulating it, pushing the energy into Alistair's dying body. At first, it didn't seem as if her effort was having any effect but then, after several silent moments, Deylan could see his fellow Warden begin to heal. A twisted leg straightened, gashes on exposed flesh began to close, and then his chest began to rise and fall again.
A wave of relief washed through him. He would not be the only Warden in Ferelden as he had begun to fear. The relief was cut short when he saw Ilaria stagger. Because he'd been so intent on Alistair's recovery, he hadn't noticed the toll it was taking on his sister mage. She had gone beyond her limit and showed no indication of stopping. He tried calling out to her but she paid him no mind. He watched her fall to her knees, still sustaining the spell. After a moment she fell forward onto her hands and then collapsed to the earth with a sigh. The shimmer of her shield disappeared. He ran to her, lifting her limp body from the ground. A groan pulled his attention from Ilaria long enough to notice Alistair's eyes opening.
The power had been exhilarating at first, wild and intense, but as the spell worked its magic, Ilaria began to feel the drain and realized that completing the spell could take her life. She didn't pause. Focusing her will into the magic, she watched Alistair's injuries begin to knit and close and then disappear. When his open wounds had been healed, she began to focus on the injury that must have caused Wynne to despair, Alistair's broken spine. She funneled more energy into him and was elated when she sensed the bones and tissues returning to their intended state. An overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit her and she staggered before regaining her composure. Almost finished! The final push of healing magic drained her completely and she fell to her knees. The ground, already so close rushed toward her face before everything went black.
The Fade... I'm in the Fade. Am I dead? It was difficult to think. Ilaria felt as if she was trying to pull herself through mud. It took some time for the familiar voices around her to register.
"Focus, mortal. You must decide!"
Justice... my spirit of Justice. Her eyes focused on the ghostly images before her. And compassion... and Wisdom.
Compassion pressed Justice aside. "Child, you must choose. The spell you cast is consuming you but you do not need to die. There are still things you can do."
Ilaria looked up at the image she'd come to recognize as her spirit of Compassion. "I don't understand."
Compassion smiled sweetly. "You have greatly weakened yourself healing a mortal man. You are dying. Your life can be spared but it will come at a cost."
"What cost?"
"You will be forever bound to him," Wisdom stated. "Your life will never be completely your own. Your energies will go toward his needs and, when the time comes, your life will be given for his."
"So if I bind myself to Alistair, I will die in his stead?"
"You will have to decide in that moment to either give your life for his or to sever the bond between the two of you. Only death will separate you," Compassion explained.
"Choose carefully, child," Wisdom cautioned, "more than your life is affected by your decision."
Ilaria frowned, weighing her options. Why did I even try to save him in the first place? she wondered. Her mind conjured up his face: his amber eyes twinkling with mirth or full of righteous anger, his easy smile, the way his jaw clenched every time Morrigan spoke. A flood of emotions threatened to bury her. What had she been keeping from herself? A memory worked its way to the surface; Alistair reaching down to help her up, her hand dwarfed in his, his fingers so warm. He'd been gentle... to a mage. It was in that moment, remembering the warmth of his hand around hers, the soft look on his face as he helped her to stand, that she realized I love him...
"Bind us," she said firmly, knowing that what she was really binding herself to was heartache.
Compassion and Wisdom simply nodded. Justice glowered down at her. "When death seeks your companion, remember that mercy found you a second time. We will not aid you again."
The Fade blurred out of focus. For a moment Ilaria could see the shining threads binding her to the Fade, the threads that she drew her power from. She watched them twist and reach toward a hazy figure. His connection to the Fade was so much weaker than hers. When the threads reached him, they twined around him, tying him to her with a thick rope of shimmery light. Alistair... Then blackness once again rolled in and took over.
She slept for days. When she woke in Flemeth's hut, Leliana was hovering over her.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," she smiled.
Ilaria's mouth was dry and everything felt heavy. After several unfocused moments, the memory of her time in the Fade pressed down on her and she closed her eyes to focus the tide of emotions.
"Water?" she asked, knowing it would give her a moment to control herself without her friend's studying eyes.
She returned almost too soon. While Ilaria drank the cool, muddy tasting water, Leliana explained, "You've been asleep for almost four days. For a while I didn't think you'd survive. I don't know what you did but it nearly killed you."
Lowering the cup, Ilaria met steady, clear eyes. "Is Alistair alright?"
The Bard smiled. "Yes, you did very well healing him. In fact, he may even be better off now than before. He doesn't have hardly a mark on him."
"Where is he?"
"He went back to Ostagar, as planned with Deylan and the others, except Morrigan. She has been in and out, bringing back what food she can find, mostly rabbits and these funny smelling roots, and sorting through all of Flemeth's things."
"Dax?"
Leliana smiled. "He's fine. After sniffing over you for a few hours, he followed Deylan when they left. I'm sure he'll be looked out for."
Ilaria nodded her relief. After poking and prodding her for several minutes and forcing her to eat as much broth as she could stomach, Leliana finally consented to allowing her out of bed. She washed quickly with a bowl of warm water by the fire, dressed and wrapped herself in a heavy cloak before stepping outside into the weak sunlight. Not entirely sure where she was going but knowing that she needed time alone, she set of down a narrow trail into the Wilds.
Alistair went looking for Ilaria as soon as he and the others returned from Ostagar. She'd still been sleeping when he left but he could feel something... different. It was almost as if there was a thread connecting him to her wherever he went. He followed her light tracks in the mud through the Wilds near Flemeth's hut. He was nearly a mile from the hut when he spied her ahead sitting on top of a large flat rock wrapped in a heavy, fur-lined cloak. He approached slowly, debating on whether or not to intrude on the solitude she'd so obviously sought. He was still several feet away from her and about to turn back when she spoke.
"Hello, Alistair," she said softly without turning around.
"Hey," he replied as he crossed the distance to stand beside her rock. "I'm happy to see you're up. You had us all worried there for awhile."
She smirked as she looked into the distance. "You're one to talk."
"Yeah... well, I'm sturdy," he grinned when she turned and gave him a half-hearted smile. "Although, I understand it was more of what you did than my... sturdy-ness."
The smile faded from her face. "I did what I had to."
He let the heavy silence hang between them. As evening approached, the ever present mist began to thicken.
"Ilaria, what exactly did you do?" he finally asked, breaking the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper and though he knew she heard, she did not respond. "Something has changed," he continued. "I can't explain it. I can still sense the darkspawn like I did before but there's something... more."
Silence.
"Leliana told me what she saw though she says she really didn't understand most of it. Wynne won't talk about it at all but changes the subject every time I mention it. Did you... did you use blood magic?"
"No." She absentmindedly picked at some moss on the rock next to her.
"Ilaria," he demanded, his voice rising as he grabbed her upper arms turning her to face him. "What did you do?"
She met his eyes and he could see the turmoil in her. He released her arms but continued watching and waiting. She opened her mouth to speak several times but seemed to choke on her words. Alistair gently cupped her cold-reddened cheek in his hand, gently stroking his thumb up and down her cheekbone.
"Talk to me, please."
"I didn't use blood magic. It probably looked that way." Now that she'd started the words seemed to come out in a rush. "It was an old spell, similar to Deylan's entropy spells, draining magic from the dead or dying. But Flemeth.. the dragon, there was so much..." She shuddered a little and looked down. "I've never felt anything quite like that before. Funneling that much energy through me... it was too much... Your neck was broken. Wynne said she couldn't heal you, that it was too late, but I couldn't let you die. You were almost healed when I felt myself... fading. But I couldn't stop. I started... slipping... between here and the Fade. There were... Spirits there, waiting... for me."
She seemed to be struggling with every word and, though Alistair was buzzing with questions, he held his tongue and let her continue.
"They weren't demons. Normally Spirits don't interfere but these ones have a... history with me... my family. They reminded me of a spell I'd read about years ago... a type of battle magic that was abandoned... Life-binding. I didn't understand it. They filled in the gaps."
She finally raised her eyes to his again. He could see the glitter of tears she wouldn't release and something bordering on panic.
"That's what's different. That's what you're feeling. To keep us both alive, to keep you alive, I bound myself to you... through magic. I'm sorry," she whispered and looked away.
Alistair didn't know what to say. He didn't fully understand what she'd told him or what the implications of it all were but something about the way she looked at him in that moment pushed all the questions away. The only thing he understood was that she had given her life to save him, in more ways than one. He reached out and used his fingertips beneath her chin to turn her face to his once again.
"I don't understand everything you just told me... and I'm not sure I ever will. But let's not worry about that right now. You saved my life." He gave her a warm, gentle smile. "Let's get you back to the hut. You're freezing and need to eat something. Leliana said you left right after breakfast and it's after dinnertime."
He gave her his most charming smile. She smiled softly back and allowed him to help her rise. They'd only walked a few steps when she staggered weakly. Without thinking, he swept her up into his arms and began carrying her back.
"Alistair, I can walk."
"Perhaps. But it seems I'm bound to you now so I might as well make sure you get back without any scrapes or bruises. But we will have to continue this conversation later."
"Fair enough," she replied before nuzzling down against the warmth of his neck. He leaned his head lightly against hers hoping that they would finally cross into new territory.