Chapter 13: Breathless

Fingers, red with blood, glistening in the dim light of the street lanterns. Not her blood though.

Never hers.

She was running through the dark streets and her lungs were burning with each breath she took, the sound of her steps echoing dangerously loud. Her head was throbbing and the pain made her feel a bit dizzy. No time for subtlety, though, no time to waste even a second. Her fingers were so red, so very red.

"If I come with you, you won't make it out before the gates fall", he says and grabs her hand. His grip is painful and she winces, but cannot look away, cannot move, cannot speak. "Please", he says, "Go while you have the chance." His hair is fire and his eyes are steel and he pushes her away. She stumbles, rights herself again and tries to remember how to breathe. He smiles at her and deep inside she starts to crumble.

Hastily wiping the blood from her brow, she increased her pace. More assassins could be around every corner, but at this point she had to pray for some luck this night. Her hand gripped her dagger tighter and she climbed the stairs taking two at once, feeling the strain in her leg muscles. In her head she went through each and any poison she knew. Digitalis? No, the symptoms did not fit completely. Perhaps Deathroot, but surely not alone. Sweating and racing heartbeat. Dilated pupils. Strychnine? No, they had not vomited.

Aífe left the Docks behind and entered one of the many dark side streets of Lowtown, hoping to save herself some time and avoid the corpses they had left behind. She felt weighed down. With each step, each breath, her necklace got heavier. It was cutting into her skin, she was sure of it, digging itself deeper and deeper into her neck. The amulet resting between her breasts felt like red-hot.

"The castle is surrounded. I cannot make it." The words cut deeper than any blade. She is shaking, terrified. "You will not die of Howe's treachery. You will live, pup. You will make your mark on the world", he says with eyes just like hers. She is scared, so very scared. Why does he look at her like that? She holds onto him, desperate, fingers digging deep into his skin as he coughs. Red. So much red.

Aífe stumbled, barely catching her fall, and cursed under her breath. Breathing grew harder and she forced herself to breath steadily and focus her thoughts. The necklace was torrid hot and she brought up a hand, but it was beneath the leather armor and impossible to reach like this. How could it be so hot? It was just silverite. And memories. She gritted her teeth and welcomed the pang of pain that lanced through her brow. Belladonna, that could be a part of it. The dilated pupils, the convulsions, flushing, slurred speech. Blurred vision, too? She had not asked him.

"Darling, you have to leave. You have a better chance if you go alone. I will stay with your father", her mother says. They speak, but the words just roll over her. She cannot breathe. She wants to scream, to cry. "Please", she says, finally, and they look at her and she knows. "Please", she says again. "I am so sorry it has come to this", he says. She cannot breathe. "Go, pup." Don't. "Warn your brother." Don't speak. "And know that we love you, both." Please don't speak. "You do us proud." Please don't make me go.

Aífe dug her nails into her skin and cut through a narrow courtyard, dagger gleaming. Belladonna most likely, but not alone, something else was causing the erratic heartbeat. There were too many possibilities, too many chances. With time she might have been able to find the components of the poison, but there was no time. Looking up she could see the tall houses of Hightown just up the stairs and not far from there she would find the entry to Darktown. There were people on the street, laughing and joking and strolling along without a sorrow in the world.

"Move it!", she snarled and did not even try to find a way around them, fully trusting on the effect of blood and dagger. They jumped out of her way, horrified expressions on their faces, but she just kept running. The pain was slowly fading away and was replaced by a numbness that was all too familiar. She welcomed it.

"My lady", the man in her arms speaks, "It's bad, ain't it?" He does not open his eyes and she is grateful. Her face would have betrayed her. "I have seen worse", she says. "It will be alright." She promises, wishes, prays. "Aye, it will", he agrees amiably and his voice sounds hoarse as he finally looks at her. His eyes are clear. He knows. "It's alright, lassie", he says and takes her hand to lift it from his wound. The blood flows. "Just hold my hand, will 'ya? Aye."

Not far now, just a bit further. Darktown was a maze to her and she hated it – too many corners, too many dead ends, too many rats. Sweat was trickling down her back and the amulet smoldered painfully underneath her armor. She grabbed one of the many children down here by the arm – many Fereldan and few still remembering it – and asked the girl to bring her to the clinic. The girl was terrified and all but shaking in her boots, but eventually she led the way and Aífe followed hastily. She ignored the curious glances thrown her way and knew well enough that anybody and their grandmother would know within a few hours where she had been, should they ask around. The girl stopped in front of doors and timidly pointed at them, backing away already. She was terrified. Aífe whispered an apology, moving towards the doors.

Fingers curl around hers. The woods are dark and cold, but the dawn is not far away. "I am scared", the soldier says. Me too. The soldier looks at her, eyes hazy and pupils dilated. A shock reaction. "It will be alright", she says but is not too sure. Breathe. Just breathe. She closes her hand around the soldier's, feels how cold his fingers are. No chance. "It is so dark", the soldier says as the sun rises. Yes, it is. "Lady Aífe…", the soldier whispers and his voice almost forsakes him. She forgets how to breathe.

Aífe shook her head, pressed the palm of her hand against her brow. The wound ached, as did her jaw, but as soon as she let her hand drop, the pain receded and left nothing but a numb throbbing. Good. She did not so much as slow down and simply pressed her hands against the door, throwing it open as she entered. The place was dark and smelled of blood and sicknesses, so much so that she almost recoiled.

A man whirled around and when his eyes fixed on her, his expression darkened. His skin cracked and the blue light bursting forth almost blinded her. It was reflex more than any conscious act when she stepped back and lifted her dagger in front of herself in one fluid motion. His eyes were glowing blue and she faltered for a moment. Abomination? Demon? She reached for the dagger strapped to her back, the slender blade hissing as she drew it. Please not now. There is no time!

Their eyes haunt her. Fire and blood, pain and death. Even when she wakes the nightmares won't stop.

"This place is a sanctum of healing and salvation", the man said with a voice that was not his. He had picked up a mage staff and stretched out his hand as if to stop her, lightning crackling around his finger tips. Aífe's hair stood on end. "Yet you enter with weapons drawn and blood on your hands. Do not make another step."

Already her thoughts were racing, analyzing the surroundings for cover and a better position to evade attacks when her eyes fell on a slim woman standing no more than a few steps away from the man. At first Aífe thought her old – her hair was silver-white and fell to her shoulders loosely. Only when the woman moved and inserted herself in between the two of them, bodily blocking the man, Aífe realized that it was in fact a young woman, probably younger than herself.

"Anders, calm down. This is not you speaking. Anders, please..." She spoke slowly and was clearly worried and for a moment Aífe thought the creature would turn on her with all its ire, but then the light receded and from one moment to the next, it was gone and in its stead stood a normal man. He looked tired, almost haunted, and he stumbled back, barely steadying himself on a table close-by. The woman immediately stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. If Aífe had not known better, she would have thought she had imagined everything.

The man looked up again and his brown eyes fixed on her form. To her surprise they seemed warm and she saw no trace of anger or rage – a stark contrast to the icy glow they had emitted before. "If you are wounded, you are welcome here. If you bring trouble, begone, I will not suffer it." Gone was the eerie tone in his voice and the low hum that it had held, now it was a pleasant baritone.

The woman had called him Anders and he was surely a mage. The healer. Reluctantly Aífe let her weapons sink, wondering if he truly was the man she was looking for. Her experience with mages and magic was limited, but she was fairly certain they were not supposed to glow blue. Or have skin cracking open. That sounded entirely out of her comfort zone.

Only hesitantly she sheathed one of her daggers, not leaving the two out of her sight. The necklace was digging into her skin still and it got harder to ignore the feeling. It felt as though the amulet touching her bare skin below her breast bindings left a scorching mark – and yet she knew it did not. It never did.

"I do not come here as an enemy", she said finally and tried to regain her breath. The woman was taller than she herself and slim of stature, she did not look like a warrior, yet displayed the easy grace and self assurance of somebody used to fighting. Her stance gave it away, she looked all but harmless. Anders seemed above all else exhausted, even if that added to his roguish handsomeness. He seemed weary of her and was still holding onto the edge of the table, using the staff in his other hand to keep himself upright. "I come seeking help. My friends are wounded – gravely so – and I am not sure how much longer they will last without healing magic."

A pearl of sweat was trickling down her spine and even through all the adrenaline and numbness she could feel the aching of her muscles. Under any other circumstances she would have left this place faster than she had entered it, but if he was indeed the healer Alistair had mentioned… then there was little choice. Nelaros had lost too much blood and the poison was potent. She took a deep breath and then also sheathed her second dagger under the scrutinizing looks of the two people. Ever so slowly she raised her arms, fingers outstretched, in a peace offering.

"I was told I would find a healer here. A man named Anders. I need your help", she spoke again and blinked when sweat mixed with blood trickled down over her brow into her right eye. Only now the man nodded slowly and pushed himself away from the table, worry evident on his face. "I am Anders", he said and came closer. "You should sit down, you are covered in blood." His voice sounded gentle as he offered her a chair. She could barely believe not more than a minute ago she would have sworn that he was an abomination. The blue light, the voice… but could he be an abomination if he still was capable to talk like this? She did not know and it worried her.

His words registered with delay and when she looked down at herself, she saw that he was right – she was covered in blood. Her hands were stained red up to the wrists and her armor was off little better. She blinked, shaking her head as she looked back up at him. "It is not mine." Most if it, anyhow.

"Be careful", the woman told him sharply when he started to walk towards Aífe and followed him just a few steps behind. Her honey-colored eyes were still on Aífe and she seemed to be ready to interfere. Her clothes were simple – a loose tunic and fitting breeches, but to Aífe it looked as though she was not used to move without armor or weapons. "It could be a trap for you", she said and locked eyes with Aífe. Her glare was almost scorching, a clear warning. Aífe did not mind, she had been on the receiving end of worse.

"It will be fine, Eynla", Anders said and tried to smile reassuringly, finally reaching Aífe. He raised his hands and without really thinking Aífe flinched away, barely able to keep herself from drawing her dagger once more. The memory of his glowing eyes and the cold fury were still vivid in her mind and yet she felt bad when he averted his eyes from her and let his hand sink again as if she had struck him.

"You said the Templars are hunting you", Eynla reminded him and came closer still, arms crossed in front of her chest. Aífe could not quite place her accent, but was sure that she too was from Ferelden. The woman seemed concerned for Anders and despite the sharp look she was casting Aífe, her main concern seemed to be for her friend.

Aífe glanced from her back to Anders, who looked at her with uncertainty and yet still turned to grab bandages from a table and several bottles from yet another, throwing them all into a pack that had been lying against the wall. "She needs help", he said firmly.

Aífe took a deep breath and brought her fingers to her neck, fumbling at the nape of her neck for the necklace. She could not grab it from underneath her armor, so she let her hand sink again. "I am Aífe Cousland of Highever, sister to the Teyrn of Highever. I give you my word that I came for help and nothing else. I can reward you handsomely for your help and I will not breathe a word to anyone. My friends need healing", she explained and hoped that the name would mean something to them. "Please."

Anders looked at her and relieve washed over her when he smiled again reassuringly. "I will help", he promised and then turned to look at his friend. "I have to do this, Eynla. I'm sorry." He shouldered his pack and stepped closer, once again raising his hand – much slower this time. "Let me heal that wound quickly", he offered gently. Before she could protest, he let his hand hover over her brow and she closed her eyes against the blue light that started to emanate from his palm. She could feel the magic seep into her skin and within moments the flesh knitted together and the throbbing receded almost completely. It was the most potent healing magic she had ever encountered.

"Don't say I didn't warn you", Eynla said finally and came over to join them, looking him over with a sigh. "I will come with you, maybe I can help." If Aífe judged the looks right, the woman still did not fully believe her. "Two healers is better than one, no?", Eynla asked.

Aífe clenched her teeth, weighing her options. "I have not heard of a second healer in Kirkwall. Who are you?", she asked and found it hard to keep the sharpness from her tone. The woman was an unknown as she did not even know if she trusted Anders, much less his friend.

"I am Eynla of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, a friend of Anders. I have been sent by the Warden Commander of Ferelden herself to Kirkwall and arrived just recently. I'd not expect you've heard of me", Eynla answered, arms still crossed in front of her chest. Yet another clear warning. Aífe tried to keep the surprise from showing and simply nodded. She had little time to argue with them and already wasted far too much.

"Thank you. We need to hurry", she told them finally and once she was sure they would follow, she immediately fell into a run again, leading the way back towards the small house at the docks. As they were running, Anders showed her little passages and side streets she had not known and they saw almost nobody on the streets. Concentrating mostly on her breathing and an even pace, she told them what she knew about the wounds – the blood loss, the poison, the severity. When she told them about the assassin she had brought along in the hope that she would be able to find out how to counter the poison, she could practically feel their eyes on her. Then she fell silent, straining to keep herself from starting to sprint mindlessly ahead.

They arrived at the little house in the docks after a felt eternity and Aífe only stopped for a moment, putting her hand on the handle. "It's me, Grimm." She could hear him whine and opened the door to slip in as soon as she could fit through the crack. The candle-light illuminated the room and Grimm immediately pressed himself against her, tail wagging as he cast her a worried glance. The assassin she had brought along was awake again, but was sitting quietly in the corner, pressed tightly against the wall. Her dark eyes were on Aífe and her lip was bleeding from where she had bitten it.

Aífe barely had time to register Alistair sitting on a chair next to the bed and Nelaros' deathly pale face, before her hound lunged past her with a snarl. Grimm drew up his flews and within moments his fur stood on end, his ears flat against his skull as he looked at the door. Aífe barely managed to grab him by his collar before he made another menacing step towards the two mages who stood now frozen in the doorframe.

"Grimm", she hissed and pulled him back towards her with difficulty. He was barking furiously, his attention completely focused on Anders. Aífe swallowed. The Mabari had shown such a reaction in the past – when demons or abominations were involved. Her grip tightened and she pulled him back against her chest as she leaned over him. As she looked up, she could see that Anders' expression had darkened as he looked at her, much like when she had flinched away from his touch. Whatever he was, she had to take the risk.

"Grimm, silence!", she said sharply and pointed at her side. "Stand down." Reluctantly the hound grew quiet, but she knew that every one of his muscles was bunched up for the jump and that he was watching the mage like a hawk – he barely took notice of Eynla, who entered closely behind Anders.

"Dogs don't like me", Anders said, almost apologetically, and she nodded dumbly. Or whatever is inside you, she thought. "I apologize. He will not harm you", she promised and only now noticed that Eynla was looking past her at Alistair, who had stood up and barely kept himself on his feet.

"Who are they?", he asked and when she turned she saw that he was gripping his sword tightly. He looked alarmed – no, almost horrified. Even when she had met him in his room he had not been so on edge. His wound had broken open again, she could see blood dripping from between his armor pieces and down his leg. The poison? It might have made him delirious. She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm, but he paid little attention to her, gaze fixed on the two healers. "They are both healers. This is Anders – you remember, no? You spoke of him, I went to him for help. This is Eynla, a friend of his. They will help", Aífe told him and felt him waver.

Another glance at Grimm showed that he was standing where she had left him, but had not backed down in the least – and while Anders seemed even more worried now, his prime concern was clearly Nelaros, as he pushed past them and towards the elf. He immediately set down his pack and moved to stand next to the bed, letting his hands hover over Nelaros' limb form. Eynla, however, regarded Alistair for far longer than necessary and Aífe felt him tense up even more.

This was quickly becoming a disaster. If by the end of the night everybody was still alive and in one piece, she would be surprised. The tension was so thick, she could have cut it with her dagger.

"Alistair?" He seemed to barely register that she had spoken. Only when she shook him gently did he turn to look at her, eyes unfocused and shoulders sagging. She turned to look at the others and found that Anders had already summoned his haling magic, a soft blue light emanating from his hands. It looked completely different from the blue glow he had adopted when she had entered his clinic. Eynla stood right next to him, examining the wound and carefully removing pieces of Nelaros' armor.

After a moment of hesitation she grabbed Alistair's arm tighter and made him follow her as she lead him into the backroom, where she made him sit on the bed. Perhaps if she got him further away from them, he would relax. "How do you feel?", she asked softly and could hear the quiet growling of Grimm as he watched the mages. Alistair looked at her like somebody who had only just woken up from deep sleep and shook his head as if to clear it. "Poisoned", he murmured. There was little argument against that, she assumed.

"Are you sure they are healers?", he asked suddenly and she bit her lip anxiously. From here she could not see the mages, only Grimm who was watching them carefully. They were talking about the wound and the complications caused by the poison, but she could not hear most of it. She was sure Anders was a healer. What else he was and how Eynla came into it all, that she did not know. But she did not think it very helpful to relay that information to Alistair at the moment.

"Anders is the healer you sent me to. They will help Nelaros and you", she said. He did not look convinced and she saw that he was clenching his jaw, fingers cramped into the blanket on the bed. "I will keep an eye on them. They will not harm you, I promise." Aífe kept her voice low and stepped into his line of sight, barring his view into the other room. He did not avert his eyes and simply stared through her.

With one last glance over her shoulder she made sure that Grimm was still watching the mages and then she looked back at Alistair. He seemed ready to bolt any moment now and was seemed to be lost in his thoughts. A bead of sweat was running down his neck, hovering over his collarbone for a moment – without even feeling for it, she could see that his pulse was racing.

"Let me help you out of your armor", she said and quickly went to work, unfastening and unbuckling sashes and pulling off armor pieces. He remained unmoving, eyes cast down now, and dug his fingers further into the blanket. "It will be alright, Alistair. They are both healers and the woman – Eynla – she is even a Grey Warden from Ferelden. She must be one of the new recruits the Warden Commander conscripted after the Battle of Denerim." If what Eynla had said was indeed true, anyhow. He went rigid for a moment, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it again and averted his eyes.

Aífe removed the last piece of armor and unconsciously started to worry her lower lip. The wound on the right side of his chest, just where breast plate and shoulder guard met, was still bleeding. Sweet clover? Moldy or rotten sweet clover caused severe bleeding in cattle and she had herself used it to coat her weapons, in high doses it could have severe effects and was easy to harvest.

Her expression darkened as she caught sight of the scar the arrow wound in his left shoulder had left, still pink and raw, even if it was fully closed and healed over. This was the second time he had received a wound aiding her. Without him, she did not know how this night's fight would have ended.

She moved away from the bed to get water, when his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her arm. Surprised she suppressed a yelp and cast him a glance, noticing that he was swaying alarmingly, already toppling over. She caught him with a grunt before his head hit the wooden bed frame and lowered him as gently as she could onto the mattress, lifting up his feet. "Stay awake, I will get one of the healers. It will be alright", she murmured and hastily pulled one dagger to cut open the tunic he was wearing to expose the wound. The blade that had caused it had been nasty – the edges were frazzled and even though the wound was small, it seemed to be deep. Aífe bit down hard on her lip, pushing the blanket under his head. She had not known he was this bad off, he had seemed so stable!

He was still gripping her arm, his skin burning hot, when he spoke quietly. "Who sent her?" Aífe gently pried his fingers off and once again looked at Grimm, who had not moved even a bit. "The Warden Commander of Ferelden – the Hero of Ferelden, Lyna Mahariel", she said and hoped that the name would invoke some sort of trust in him. Instead, he grew even paler if possible.

Aífe hastily moved back into the other room, speaking before she had even fully entered. "Quickly, I think his condition is worsening!" Anders still stood bent over Nelaros, his eyes closed in deep concentration. Eynla, who had let her hands hover over the elf's face, withdrew them and quickly moved past Aífe into the other room. "I will look after him", she said and rolled up her sleeves. Aífe was left standing halfway between the two patients, feeling utterly helpless.

"Lady Aífe…", he says and puts the noose around her neck, "I'm sorry."

"How can I help? Do you need hot water? Anything?", she asked loudly, but got no answer from either of the healers. The light emanating from their hands cast the whole house into an eerie blue light and despite the sweat that had formed on her brow and the scorching hot amulet on her skin, Aífe shivered. She stood for a moment, taking a deep breath, and buried her face in her hands, pressing the heel of her hands against her eyes.

"What about the poison?", she asked and stepped close to Anders. Nelaros had fallen unconscious and was pale as a ghost, lying in his bed of bloody linen. The bleeding stopped under Anders' hands and the flesh started to knit, but far too slow.

"It makes healing complicated", the healer finally answered. "I have to keep it at bay and heal the damage at the same time. The blood loss makes it even worse. The heart is racing, the whole body is overheated. Much longer with that poison in his blood and internal bleedings are possible." Anders still had his eyes closed and moved his hands unseeing, as if to visualize the wound. "I'm not sure… at this rate…" He stopped talking and pressed his lips together, the blue light brightened and Aífe averted her eyes.

"If we had the antidote… what then?", she asked and he opened his eyes to look at her. "It would help", he said, "It would increase the chance." Aífe nodded and wiped the sweat off her brow, turning to look at Grimm. His dark eyes rested on her and he sat there unmoving. She took a deep breath and took the dagger from the table, moving towards the corner where the bound assassin was lying. The woman moved back against the wall, eyes wide open as she tried to get away from her. "Stay away! I will not tell you a thing", the woman barked in panic. There was no escape.

With one fluid motion Aífe plunged the blade deep into the woman's thigh and moved back a few steps, the pained scream of the assassin ringing in her ears. She could feel Anders' eyes on her and see Eynla out of the periphery of her eyes, eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing?!", Anders demanded to know.

Aífe did not turn around to him, instead she crouched down to be on eye-level with the woman, whose breathing had grown ragged. There was fear in her eyes. "Nobody uses poison without antidote nearby. The way I see it, you have two options", Aífe said very quietly. She raised her hand and lifted her index finger. "One: You tell me where it is or how to make it. I will give you some of it and let you go. I will not follow you. You can pretend you died with the others and flee from whomever sent you – you are free to do whatever you want." There were tears in the assassin's eyes, but Aífe simply held up her hand, lifting a second finger. "Two: You refuse out of some sort of loyalty, spite or pure stupidity. You will die of the poison and your wounds. I will not even let them heal a splinter in your finger and no matter how loud you scream, nobody will come to save you. If you are afraid of whoever sent you, you should keep one thing in your head. Right now, they are not here. I am."

She let her hand sink and gripped the hilt of the dagger, ripping it clear with force. The woman screamed again, pressing her face against the cool wall. "Are we clear?", she asked very quietly and could feel the healers' eyes on her.

The woman nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the dagger. "Yes", she said hoarsely.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Author's Comment:
Alright, this update took a while and I apologize for the delay. I had quite a hard fight with this chapter and there are about 3 different versions of this, before this one finally seemed to work for me. I realize that there is a LOT OF TENSION in this one. I almost had Aífe break out into the song "How We Operate" from Gomez... Caaaaalm down. Geeeet straight. But, yes, obviously, that would have been slightly weird, so I didn't. But I was listening to it. They all have reasons for their paranoia - being hunted by the one or other fraction does this to you. And poor Alistair doesn't get a break lately...
I hope that I was able to avoid too much confusion - the flashbacks are all from quite vital turning points for Aífe and the ones from the Origin you will be able to guess, I think, the others are from her past during the Rebellion/Civil War. As for Grimm... I just think that animals have a bit of a better sense when it comes to spirits and such and in my head the reason why animals avoid Anders in DA2 is, in fact, Justice himself... they simply do not like spirits/demons, as they are not natural to our world.
As for the cameos I promised - I hope Anders is in character and that you like my version of him. :) I always imagine him as a very gentle healer and person, who would take upon himself great danger to help people if he can. Eynla is an original character by my lovely beta-reader, Emma! Many thanks for reading through my chapter and discussing it with me, to the point of answering all my questions twice and three times, when I couldn't get over my fear of boring people. I hope I portrayed your Eynla as she deserves to be =) And do not forget to write on your own fic, so Eynla gets bigger screentime! :o I will not say too much about her, but I had alter her connection to the Wardens a bit to make it fit to my A/U - she is not the Warden Commander, but an Amell that was recruited after the Blight by the Warden Commander herself, right out of prison!

Anyhow, I will stop my rant here, but not without thanking you all! Thanks so much for the reviews, the follows and favourite-ings! :) It is absolutely awesome to have people actually like this and read it and I squee like an idiot whenever I get any notification X'3 So thank you, Graymalkyn, BlondMoments, KatDancer2, alyssaCousland, artilyon-rand and EkoCentric! And all others, who read and enjoy. =) I hope the next chapter will be up sooner, featuring Alistair and soom answers about what actually happened to him during the Blight.