1
Ellyn felt hot blood splashing onto her face and Alistair's arm catching her as she fell. There was pain spreading from her abdomen and she knew she was injured. She tried to raise her hand to start a healing spell, but her fingers were not listening to her.
The edges of her vision were getting blurry; she saw the anguish on Alistair's face, Leliana's shocked and concerned expression, and she wanted to tell them no, don't worry, it's not my blood that's all over my face, but her mouth wasn't working either. It was Ser Clara's blood, oh Maker it was her blood, and it was all over Ellyn's face, in her hair, in her eyes, her vision tinted with red.
She thought there might be more pain, but there wasn't. There was only a searing heat that came from her middle and the cold that was everywhere else. She saw that her arms and her legs were moving in a ceaseless spasm, and she wondered who was making them move. It wasn't her, that was for sure.
There was a memory she had of a room in this very tower where she held Anders in her arms. She mended his bones, knitted his muscles, put all his organs back together, while his arms and legs were moving the same way. She wondered if she was dying, and why it did not hurt anymore.
A hand descended upon her eyes, beyond it she saw their mouths moving but she couldn't hear anything and she was oh so scared of this darkness, please don't block out the light.
2
"Alistair, hold her arms still. I'm putting her under. I can't heal her with her moving like that." Alistair shifted his grip so that Ellyn was still, and Wynne readied a sleep spell, casting it gently over her forehead. "Now we need to get that sword out. I'm going to sustain an aura. Leliana, pull the sword out. Do it quickly, straight up. Don't make the wound wider."
Ellyn was looking deathly pale. Leliana froze, knowing that pulling a sword out in this situation could very well kill her. "I know what I'm doing, Leliana. Just pull."
Leliana gritted her teeth, stood over Ellyn, and pulled the sword straight up. A pool of blood immediately began to spread under her body and Leliana very nearly dropped the sword. She flung it to one side and held one of Ellyn's cold hands in her own, willing it to get warmer.
The blood stopped spreading, but now it was the top of her robe that was getting redder. The wound was closed underneath, but the internal bleeding wasn't going to stop. Alistair looked as though he was about to scream.
"I need everyone to get out. Now." Wynne was grim faced and she used the commanding voice she reserved for speaking with the rowdiest of students. "I need to undress her to close the wound. This will be a sickroom for now. Close the door behind you."
"Can I stay and help?" Leliana raise her head and glanced at Wynne, still holding Ellyn's hand.
"I would rather you did not." Wynne was visibly straining. The blue healing glow from her hand winked and wavered.
Leliana stepped out of the room and closed the door. The templars informed Alistair that they would scout the rest of the floor and clear out any abominations, but he was much too shocked to give an answer. She found him sitting outside the now sickroom with his chin over his knees.
She joined him, sitting down on the floor where blood wasn't. Blood was everywhere. "I should have killed that demon the moment I saw it."
"It wasn't your fault, Alistair." Leliana gave his hand a little pat. "Ellyn really wanted to save that templar."
"She's always trying to save everyone." Alistair sighed and covered his head with his hands.
"Ellyn's a very special girl. She's one of the world's very last innocents." Leliana had a knowing smile. "I should know."
"She'd tackle this entire blight on her own without me if she had to, I'm sure. She just … picks up other people's problems and tries to solve them all." He winced, spreading his hands. "Who does that? What am I going to do, Leliana? She's dying. I've seen it before. Nobody recovers from a sword wound like that."
"Was that what you thought when you woke up in Femeth's hut? The time when Ellyn was shot full of arrows?" She tried her best to smile. It was a tentative, scared sort of smile, one used by people comforting each other in waiting rooms of hospitals.
"I guess. But this time it's different." Alistair dropped his voice to a whisper. "I think I love her."
Leliana perked up just a little at his words. "You really should let her know that."
"Fleur said she's afraid of me." Alistair imitated the low growl in his throat, "probably because I'm a templar, come to think of it."
"You're not really a templar though. You were going to be a templar. Doesn't she know that?"
"No, we never really talked about it. She hasn't tried to have a conversation with me since I drained an emissary's mana in battle. She's barked out plenty of commands, but we haven't sat down and talked about anything."
"Then you should talk to her." Leliana tilted her head the way she always did when she knew she was stating the absolutely obvious.
"Coming here," Alistair made a sweeping gesture with his hands, "was weird. I mean, I thought I knew her. She's this amazing tactician who's always deadly calm in the heat of battle. Then I sit in this great room downstairs and heard all about how she was this pampered little princess who got special treatment from everyone." Alistair squinted his eyes. "There's also this Cullen she saw in the Fade."
"Cullen?" Leliana raised an eyebrow and tried not to look too interested.
"Templar boyfriend of hers, I think. She wouldn't admit it though." Alistair spat out the word 'boyfriend' like a curse.
"Forbidden love. Ooh. The plot thickens. I didn't know about it. It's probably not something she can tell anyone." Leliana gave him a look that spoke volumes, most of which was lurid. "If it gets out it could get him expelled from the Order and her executed, you know."
"It's just that I don't know anything about her, and she's completely clueless about … about how I feel about her."
"She's been very sheltered, Alistair. It's part of her charm." Leliana allowed herself a smile, "do you remember Lothering? I asked her if I could come with her and she just shrugged and said 'ooh it'd be fun to have another girl along!' like camping was a slumber party. Or when she saw Sten in his cage and she asked you if she could keep him - like he was a stray cat?"
"Yes, yes I do." He couldn't help but laugh a little at that. Ellyn was so kind that she wasn't able to see evil in other people. A crazy chantry sister and a convicted murderous Qunari gained her trust just like that. "Some people would call that stupid."
"Not us. We know better."
3
"I can't do this alone, Ellyn. I need help. You need to call on your spirit." Wynne leaned down and spoke in her ear. She was trying to keep the wound closed, but the internal bleeding was unstoppable. Wynne swallowed another lyrium potion, keeping her hand over Ellyn's abdomen. She was losing blood almost as fast as Wynne was regenerating it. "Please."
"I've sent the templars away. If you can hear me, save her. There's no one here you need to be afraid of." Wynne whispered. If anyone overheard, it meant death for both of them.
Ellyn's eyes snapped open, white light suffused her body, concentrating on her wound. There was a feeling as of a vortex in the room. Wynne backed away to the door and quickly cast a ward on it.
Suspended in warm, white light, Ellyn levitated off the floor. Her blood and Ser Clara's swirled in a mist around her glowing form, and all Wynne saw for a while was a pink halo around her. When it settled, Ellyn dropped slowly, softly downwards. The blood on the floor was gone, and Ser Clara's body laid dry and desiccated, as if she had been dead for years.
Wynne knelt and checked the wound. It was completely closed over, and there was colour back in her cheeks. Ellyn's eyes fluttered open, and she seemed about to speak. Wynne gestured for silence with a finger in front of her lips, and whispered when she spoke. "I asked your spirit to heal you, Ellyn. It will be suspicious if you wake too soon."
"How's … Ser Clara?" Ellyn asked. Her throat was dry, but there was no pain and she was warm. "Is she alright?"
Wynne shook her head. "I'm sorry, child. There was nothing I could have done. You were close to death yourself."
Ellyn felt her tears flowing down into her hair. She did not dare to cry; her sobbing might bring the templars back to them. There would be time for grief later, she told herself, but not now. There was simply too much they had to do.
"Have some rest." Wynne stroked her hair, ever so gently. "I know how much she meant to you. You were probably the child she dreamt of defending."
"Wynne, you know what I am?" Ellyn reached out to take her hand, and Wynne took it in her own.
"I know. We're both … " Wynne did not even dare to whisper. She mouthed the word. "Abominations."
4
Wynne and Ellyn emerged from the temporary sickroom hours later, greeted by astonished looks and whispers of 'praise Andraste' from the templars. Leliana hugged Wynne and thanked her, then hugged Ellyn so hard she almost pulled her to the floor with murmured prayers.
"I thought I lost you." Alistair crushed her against his armour and kissed her chastely on both cheeks to her astonishment. Leliana tapped him on his gauntlet eventually and led Ellyn away, reprimanding him for being so rough right after her injury.
"You're an amazing healer, Wynne." Leliana gushed. "I was scared."
"Oh, it was a joint effort." Wynne gave Leliana her usual, sweet old lady smile. "Ellyn's a healer as well, remember?"
The templars reported on the situation. There were no more demons on this floor. Every mage they managed to find used blood magic and attacked them on sight. Their mission was looking more like an annulment every minute.
The Templars' Quarters brought more death, when thralls seemed to attack from behind every door they opened. Wynne and Ellyn hung back well out of the way and allowed their companions to take care of most of the fighting. Mages did not fight templars on their own. It would be suicide.
"Do you think we're going to be able to save anyone, Wynne?" Ellyn turned to her when they were nearing the entrance to the harrowing chamber on the very top floor. Hope was growing very thin.
"I've been checking all the mages along the way and I haven't seen Irving yet. There is still hope."
"There is someone here, Warden." One of the templars ahead gave the alert when he opened a door at the end of the hall. "Looks like he's alive."
Ellyn's legs started running of their own accord, and she did not stop running until she was there in front of his blood cage. His eyes were wild, his face haggard, but he was alive. Relief and pity streamed together and she was crying, one hand reaching out to touch the cage, another in front of her mouth to stop the choke that came with her tears.
Alistair and Leliana exchanged a look. Alistair closed his eyes and nodded. Cullen.
"No...not her again." Cullen was raving, trying to look at anything but Ellyn. "No...I can't...I can't resist anymore. I was going to forget her. I love her but she's gone - she's gone! I was going to just … live … and not think about her anymore. Why her? Why keep giving me the one thing I want but can never have?"
It was a deadly admission. The templars in the room shifted in their armour uncomfortably and the room was again filled with silence but for the clink of their plate mail. "Ser Cullen, I'm real."
"I don't believe it. I don't. I don't. Begone, demon! Stop taunting me!" Cullen turned his gaze to her and seemed surprised that she was still here. "Why aren't you leaving me alone?"
"Because I'm not a vision, Ser Cullen. I came back. I'm trying to save the mages." Ellyn touched the cage and drew back as if burned. "Do you know how I can get you out of this cage?"
"Uldred. Uldred started summoning demons and he's been turning all the mages. They're in the harrowing chamber. If you kill Uldred, this cage should disappear." Cullen pushed himself forward, almost touching the barrier. "You have to kill all the mages. They're all abominations by now. They've killed all the templars and …" His voice thinned out, low and quiet, as if it made the fact less real, "I'm the only one left."
"I will kill Uldred." Ellyn leaned as close as she could without hurting herself on the blood cage, "but I cannot do as you ask, Ser Cullen. I will not harm an innocent." She stepped back. Cullen kept mumbling on about blood mages and how everyone should be killed, but she deigned not to listen anymore.
Ellyn wiped away her tears and when her sleeve came away she wore the deadly calm of battle. She turned to the templars and fixed them with a steely gaze, boring through their helms. "He's been without his lyrium since the attacks began. He's delirious with withdrawal. I trust that his words will not leave this room?" There was a pause. They nodded, an agreement of silence. "Good. We're going to fight a pride demon.
I was once told that it takes an army of templars to fight a pride demon. That's probably true. There are six of you, seven including Alistair, and though the rest of us are not templars, we're capable. With my auras, our power is tripled.
You saw what I was able to do in Redcliffe. We have an army. We can do this. Let's go."
5
Fighting Uldred was chaos. If it wasn't for the Litany of Adralla, they would have all died in there, their blood becoming fuel for the pride demon. Ellyn was knocked down twice, but she seemed to not feel the pain at all and kept her auras up until her wounds were healed again; Leliana danced around the edges of the room, loosing enchanted arrows with pinpoint precision; Alistair pushed his templar abilities to the limit until he had no strength left to hold up his shield.
Their unit of templars proved to be instrumental in the fight. Uldred's mana was drained constantly, his spells interrupted, and he found himself surrounded by steel whenever he resorted to melee. Wynne kept the other mages from turning with the Litany of Adralla. In the end, they managed to save all the mages in the Harrowing Chamber.
Alistair looked around afterwards at the carnage and wondered how all that blood came from one single person. Of course, there were already mages and templars killed in that room before, but the pride demon was easily more formidable than an ogre. Ellyn finished healing the last of their wounds; when she looked up from her last patient, their eyes met. For one moment, he saw gratitude, and thought maybe she looked like she was glad to have her own templar guardian.
It was an improvement over fear, anyhow.
"First Enchanter, are you hurt anywhere else?" Ellyn smoothed healing energy over one last cut she saw on his hand, and stacked a heroic aura in place for strength. "The rest of the mages are ready to leave, if you are."
"Ellyn. It seems I am in your debt again." Irving stood with some help. He did not count the days throughout Uldred's torture, but he felt as if he hadn't eaten in a week. "I'm very thankful that you're not telling me 'I told you so.'"
Ellyn fixed him with a mischievous grin, reminiscent of Anders'. "I told you so."
They laughed, tentative, shaken, self-deprecating. Alistair stepped forward and took Wynne's place on the other side of Irving, and step by step guided the First Enchanter down the many flights of stairs to the main doors.
6
"And here we are." Morrigan pushed herself up with her elbows on her bedroll, shooting a glance at Sten. Fleur perked up her ears and whined. "See? You need not have worried."
"I was not worried." Sten stood still as a statue. Ellyn had thought in passing that he would probably make a great templar.
"I can't believe you just slept here in a room full of templars."
"Your fears are not my fears," Morrigan did not look the least bit uncomfortable. "So I'm a smart mouse in a room full of dumb cats. I have my darling Sten to watch over me."
Sten grunted and might have looked even more stern than before.
Ellyn left the Knight Commander and Irving to discuss the state of the Circle. The death toll was high, but they were willing to take whatever victory they were able to get. Greagoir crossed his arms and bowed. "The Circle of Magi is in your debt, Warden."
Alistair and Ellyn presented the Grey Warden Treaty and asked Irving for help with the possessed mage child, Connor. Greagoir intervened, stating that abominations must be killed, but Ellyn used their custody of the blood mage Jowan as a bargaining chip. In the end, even the Knight Commander agreed to their terms. A group of mages would travel with them in the morning to Redcliffe, with whatever templar guards they could spare.
"That went well." Alistair saw Ellyn's expression and decided that might have been the wrong thing to say. "Death and demons and tragedy. Nope. Definitely didn't go well."
"We got what what we came for." Ellyn ran a hand through her hair and found more blood in it. "Do you remember when you were all depressed over Duncan?"
Alistair did not wish to be reminded. "Uh...yes?"
"You've known Duncan for six months. I've known Ser Clara for twelve years. She was like a mother to me." Ellyn held the stubborn expression of one determined not to cry. "I have a feeling that the demon used her memories of me against her."
"I'm sorry," and he was. Alistair was the one to slit her throat.
"Don't be. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for practically handing them a weapon."
There she goes again, thought Alistair, blaming herself for everyone else's problems. "Stop that. A demon killed Ser Clara."
"It is good of you to say that, Alistair." Ellyn bit her lower lip. "If it's alright with you, I think I'm going to stay here tonight."
"Um...with the corpses of blood mages and abominations?" Alistair had a feeling that he was being watched. He looked behind Ellyn and saw Cullen scowling at them by the now open doors. "Ah. Okay. I'll just … um … set up camp with everyone else then. Across the lake. Yeah, that's it."
Ellyn felt a sense of deja vu at Alistair's stuttering, putting a hand up to her mouth to turn a giggle into a cough. Leliana leaned in and whispered something in her ear; she turned beet red, swatted her jokingly across the side of one arm, and turned away.
7
Sunlight filtered softly through the high windows behind a statue of Andraste, candles burning bright at her feet. Cullen trailed one hand along the edges of the wooden pews as he approached, his heart heavy, weighed with imagined sins. The air smelled of incense, wax, old weathered wood; a familiar atmosphere that soothed him in a way that the chapel in the Circle Tower never could.
Ser Cullen knelt with his sword and prayed. He poured out his shame of loving a mage, his fears of blood magic, the days and nights of torture showing him how weak he was, what a failure he was. He feared his desires that echoed those of demons, how they drew out his shame and spread it, like a net, over him, turning him, until he was near breaking.
"Love is not a sin, Ser Cullen." A hand was on his brow, warm but hard as stone. He raised his head from the hilt of his sword, and the statue of Andraste was there in front of him, speaking to him. She was smaller, her countenance resembled that of Ellyn's, though everywhere about her there was a faint white light, and when she spoke the voice that came was soft yet it resonated like a thousand voices speaking at once. "Do you remember what it is that you hate?"
He wanted to tell her that magic was a curse, mages the conduits for demons. He wanted to tell her how his brothers were struck down, made thralls by blood mages. His mouth was open and he attempted words but silence shrouded them. She smoothed out his hair and he felt his thoughts understood, in spite of his inability to articulate them.
Uldred was right, and wrong. Mages are conduits of both good and evil, as are men. They can welcome the virtues, like love, and here she seemed to smile, compassion and valor. There would be no desire, sloth or pride if men did not already possess them. Men blame the demons of the fade for the sins they already commit, but spirits can only imitate, and they learned love from you. It is no sin to love, Ser Cullen. You are not weak; you would sooner allow yourself to die than be broken.
She sorted his memories, laying the false ones aside and leaving the moments he held dear. Hurried glances in hallways. The one time Ellyn tried to speak to him and he couldn't get his words out, both of them stuttering until Anders pulled her away. The way she looked at him, full of admiration and he did not understand why.
Protect my children from within and without. That is your task. That is your calling. Arise, Ser Cullen. I have taken away your need for vengeance, for that was your only sin. She removed her hand from his brow and took each of his hands in hers.
He was surrounded by books. It took him an instant to recognize the library, a much longer moment to realize that the figure sitting cross-legged from him was Ellyn. Her eyes were closed, though light leaked through the fringes of her eyelashes. Her whole person was glowing, and he looked down at his hands in astonishment to see that so was he. His hand twitched involuntarily, mindful of the fact that his skin was touching hers.
In one split second the light was gone. Her eyes opened, and there was concern in her gaze. Concern quickly gave way to relief, and she pulled back her hands with some shyness. "I ... what ..." he wanted to ask her what was going on, but Irving was standing right behind her, the Knight Commander also stood to one side with his sword readied.
"His eyes are clear. The danger has passed." Irving reached down and she seemed glad of the help, as her knees wobbled a little when she tried to stand up.
"I wasn't wounded." Cullen protested while Ser Greagoir pulled him up. He did not remember being cut anywhere during the attack. Greagoir mumbled something about non-sanctioned magic and walked away.
Ellyn and Irving exchanged a look, was it pity or consternation? "You were raving, Ser Cullen. There was madness in your eyes." The First Enchanter smiled at him kindly and patted his back. "You are very lucky. No ordinary healer can do what she just did."
"What was that vision?" It felt real, and he wanted it to be. Cullen was afraid that it was just another demon of the Fade. "Did I really ... I mean ... was I really touched by Andraste?"
"You were touched by a memory," she tapped the side of her head. "Andraste has returned to the Maker's side, but there are spirits who remember her. How she thinks and moves, what she will say, as well as her healing powers."
Cullen did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed, but his head was clear. He did need healing after all. "I ... thank you. How did you do that?"
Her expression was conflicted. "Do you remember those templars? The three that died? You saw me then." He nodded. She went on, "it takes that. Being an abomination. Allowing a spirit to take possession of me."
Conduits of both good and evil, indeed, and something else. Something else that the memory of Andraste said to him. "I ... can I ... um ..." Irving gave him a knowing smile and stepped away, the sound of his footsteps travelling up the stairs absorbed by the books around them. "Can I speak to you later?"
"Yes. I'm staying here tonight." Redness crept up her neck to reach the tops of her ears. "I'll ... I'll be in my chambers."
Cullen sat at a table in the library and listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps. He has known what she was since the incident, and aside from his hysterical rantings that night, he kept her secret, though his instinct told him that it was wrong. There was a right, and a wrong. Things were simple.
Ellyn came into his world and replaced his black and white with shades of gray.