Disclaimer: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly imagine. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront!

When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric Tethras (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale.

A/N: This one is a short one, but I think the need for a break between what happens here - and what is coming, will be obvious.

Antivan Translation: Love

Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers and to my wonderful betas artemiskat and Snarkoleptic.

Happy Reading!

-Frayed One

Chapter Forty-Two: Casualties of War

Dworkin may have been mad, but that madness resulted in explosives that were nothing short of devastating. The small blaze that had begun just inside the final chamber's door had spread like wildfire in the wake of those who sought to escape, following the path of the corruption through tower and across bridge and pushing Elissa's companions at a progressively more frantic pace simply to stay ahead of it. The Architect joined them near the tower where last they'd met, doing what he could to push back the flames enough to allow for escape.

On the dry sand of the Dragonbone Wastes, those who had survived the battle collapsed. They had been pushed to their breaking points, and now drained physically they were forced to process the emotional strain of a profound loss.

The Architect wandered through the small group treating what injuries they would allow. No one spoke, each man lost in his own personal musings. Anders glanced back at the great stone door, listening to the far away creak and clatter of falling rubble and wondering if he had done the right thing. He had done as Elissa requested, of that he was certain, but the people around him looked broken and he wondered if she had been right in her assumption that it was he and Nathaniel who could repair that damage.

As if called, The Archer began to stir, and Anders braced himself for what would follow as he regained his senses. Oghren struggled to his feet, knowing that Zevran could not and that Nathaniel's temper would be more than The Mage could manage.

"What is… where..?" Nathaniel pushed himself up to a seated position, brushing back the hair that had fallen loose from its restraints and now hid his eyes. The gesture gave him a clear line of sight to the stone door, now beginning to show damage from the flames just inside it.

Nathaniel stood, stumbling for a moment as his mind fought to keep up with the forced recovery of his body. He passed his eyes around the group, but did not find the one person he sought.

"Now, why don'tcha sit back down and wait for a—" Oghren attempted to reason with The Archer as he paced closer to the door, the look on his face making it clear how close he was to losing control of his temper completely.

"I have to go back in." Nathaniel pulled loose his bow and his pack and tossed them thoughtlessly to the ground. If he had any chance he would need to move fast; those things were useless now and would only hamper his movement. "I have to get to her."

"You aren't that thick." Anders was exhausted and no longer cared whose buttons he was pushing. "Look at the doorway, Nathaniel. It's like that the whole way down. The darkspawn corruption is surprisingly flammable. It's a wonder any of us made it out. If she survived The Mother, than she's burned with her now. It's over. She's gone."

Anders didn't want the words to be true, but the sooner he accepted the fact that Elissa wasn't coming back this time, the sooner he could attempt to refocus them all and get them back to The Keep as he'd promised he would.

"You don't know her like I do, Mage!" Nathaniel's eyes were as hard as the edge in his voice. "I can still read what she's feeling through the conduit, and I'm telling you, regardless of how you all plotted to leave her down there, she is alive!"

"Plotted? No one plotted beyond Elissa. That's the promise I made to her. That I would get you out alive. That I would make sure you survived to rebuild the order. All this is yours now, Howe. Arl of Amaranthine in the end after all. She left the Wardens to you."

"If I am your commander, then I say we go back in."

Anders could see how much the revelation shook him, though as usual Nathaniel used his arrogance in an attempt to disguise it, an action that suddenly struck the mage as exceptionally funny. "So… your first order as Warden-Commander is that we should all commit suicide? Don't do this, Nathaniel. She sacrificed everything so that we'd survive – don't be the tool I've always thought you were this time. Be the man she thought you were."

Nathaniel hesitated, torn between following his heart or following Elissa's unspoken orders, but before he could make a decision – The Architect broke the silence. "It would appear this discussion is a moot point, Wardens."

Through the dancing flames inside the door moved a shadow, faint at first and distorted by the heat, but it was there and making steady progress toward the door.

"Arm yourselves." Nathaniel choked out the words and pulled loose his blades, hoping that The Architect was right but unwilling to take a chance that his first accomplishment as Warden-Commander would be allowing anything to escape what should have been a tomb.

The others struggled to their feet, even Zevran making an effort to stand before his injuries dropped him back down. Anders moved over to offer what help he could, though he was loathe to take his eyes away from the figure now nearly out the door. Though her face and body were marred by blood and burning, there was no mistaking who it was.

"Impossible…" It was little more than a whisper, and Anders' eyes focused in on her, watching the flames curve against the shimmering bubble that surrounded her.

"How did you—" Nathaniel turned back to The Mage, assuming that the shield which had obviously protected Elissa from most of the more severe fire damage had come from his hands.

"It wasn't me."

Elissa seemed either unaware or unconcerned about the presence of her companions, walking right past them to where The Messenger and The Architect stood. Her eyes were still lost to the darkness of her curse and her mouth curled up as she lifted her grisly trophy into the air – the slow, remorseless smile of the damned - proud and unapologetic.

"Grey Lady!" The Messenger dropped to his knees at her side, the action more instinctual than intentional, but the power of that gesture was lost on no one. He was a knight fallen prone at the feet of a queen, a stark illustration of how drastically the world was changing.

"Rise." Elissa spared the creature a passing glance that seemed half annoyance and watched him scramble to his feet before tossing her prize in his direction. "Pike that up on one of the discarded swords outside the entrance. Let those that survive know, let all know, what happens to those who seek to cross me."

The Messenger nodded, and shuffled off to do as she bid him with no hesitation, and the group watched as The Mother's dismembered head found its new home – locked in one final desperate scream for all eternity.

Large sections of Elissa's armor were missing where flame or battle had rent them loose from her body, and Anders wondered how she was able to ignore that much pain and continue to function. He dug in his pack for one last lyrium potion, willing to risk the madness to heal what he could before it had a chance to scar her further.

"Do not trouble yourself." The Architect waved him back with an unsettling smile, pulling a sickly green glow into his taloned fingers and passing it across Elissa's body until little more than the pink hue of new flesh remained as a reminder of her injuries.

"I believe I have earned the answers to my questions." Elissa's focus was singular. Now that her task was complete she had a desire for nothing else beyond the truths that only The Architect could offer her.

"Indeed you have." The Architect nodded his head, unsettling laughter breaking the silence of her stunned companions. "Unfortunately, we must delay those conversations for another time. The others in your order will not be so… understanding… of our accord. I think it is best that I make myself a bit more difficult to locate until the storm has settled."

"You promise me the world and think I will let you walk away still holding it?" The blue glow of lyrium flickered to life on Starfang's surface as she drew it from its sheath, eyes narrowed in growing frustration. "You claim to know me, but if you think that will ever happen… clearly you are mistaken."

"I will return. On that you have my word." The creature reached over to draw her free hand and press it between his own. "Until then, The Messenger will remain at your side. Should you need to contact me, he will know how to do so."

"Go then." Elissa relaxed the hold on her blade, drawing loose her other hand and flicking The Architect away as though he was little more than an annoyance now that she had been unable to get what she truly desired. "But I will not wait forever."

"Nor will you have the need." The Architect's hands glowed again, a deep green hue that radiated out around his entire body before fading him out entirely. "Until we meet again, Grey Lady…"

Elissa stood for a moment longer, muttering angrily in some language Anders didn't recognize as she sheathed her sword, and still completely ignorant of anyone other than The Messenger who remained planted firmly at her side.

"Commander." Oghren was the first to attempt drawing her attention, but his words were unusually hesitant and easily lost when she turned her focus to The Messenger and began discussing plans for future contact.

"Elissa." Anders stood, unable to ignore her behavior any longer – and forced to take several steps in her direction to grab her arm when she still refused to acknowledge him. "Elissa!"

The dark voids of her eyes stared through him, moving up from her inspection of his grip on her arm to his face. It took every ounce of courage he could muster to stand there unshaken and force her to see him and hear what he was saying.

"Are you really so far gone that you don't even realize we're still here?" He nearly flinched when Elissa pulled her arm free and walked past him, but refocused quickly when he thought she might shut him out again. "Wherever you've gone, you need to come back now. Zevran is—"

"Zevran is what?" Elissa spun back on him, the sudden insect-like twitch of her head menacing. "Has one of you gotten a scratch that requires my attention? Aren't you a healer? Shouldn't that be your job?"

"A scr… a…" Anders' temper rose the longer he spoke to her. "It is beyond a scratch, and nothing I can heal. Zevran is tainted. The Elissa I know would care about that."

"Tainted?" Elissa's face dropped, the arrogance and confidence of the beast faded like the darkness in her eyes as she stepped past him and dropped to the ground at Zevran's side. "Impossible… he's… impossible."

"My apologies, amore. It seems I am not as immortal as I have led you to believe." Zevran flinched as Elissa tugged back the edge of his rent armor, exposing the dark edged wound in his side.

"How could this… How did..?" She shook her head, unable to comprehend that her friend lay dying right in front of her. Zevran was untouchable, he always emerged unscathed.

"The way such things always happen. The other on the bridge was faster."

"This happened on the bridge! Why didn't you tell me?" Elissa turned from her inspection of his wound, digging frantically through her pack, tossing endless items to the ground and muttering curses as she failed to find what she was looking for.

"To what end, my darling? Our task remained the same. My condition changed nothing." Zevran's eyes recognized the vial she pulled from her pack the moment she uncorked it and caught his attention.

"Drink this." Elissa watched him hesitate, this attempt to stave off what they both knew awaited him making her intentions clear though she had not yet voiced them. "It will hold progression at bay until I can get you back to The Keep. It will hold back the taint until I can—"

"Until you can put me through The Joining." Still Zevran did not drink. His life had been hers for the taking since she had spared him so many years before, and yet he stood hesitant on the precipice of this his greatest leap of faith.

"I know that being a Warden is not of your choosing. I know this is not how you wanted things to be… and I would not force this on you, I have not forced this on you but…" Her hands were shaking as she struggled to find the words to convince him. "I cannot lose you, Zevran. Not now. Not like this. Please. Don't make me force it."

It was obvious that she would. Best intentions or not, his decision was only to do it with his own hand or to swallow it down as she forced it upon him. She would not bend to his will this time. His path had been chosen – so he took the vial and swallowed it back, wincing at the burn and wondering how it was she managed the noxious fluid every day.

"Come. Once we get to the horses it will be manageable. I have more of the tonic. If I space it out, it will be enough." Elissa wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bearing his weight against her body and making her way out of the wastes – once again ignorant of all else around her.

The others trailed behind in silence, giving the pair a modicum of space after any offer to assist had been forcefully denied. When they made it to the horses, Nathaniel could keep silent no longer.

"I am the faster rider, Elissa. Let me take him." There was no arrogance in his tone this time, though Nathaniel was certainly right to make such an assertion, but he knew that such behavior would not serve him at the moment.

"No." Elissa continued to work at the ties that restrained her horse with one hand, refusing to release her hold on Zevran even for a moment to allow herself the ease of two.

"Then at least take Nocturne." Nathaniel moved past her, un-tethering the stallion and pacing it forward to her side. She looked at him for a moment before accepting the offer with a nod and allowing Nathaniel to support Zevran's weight long enough for her to mount and settle atop the horse. "He knows the shortest path. Let him ride it. He will not lead you astray."

"Thank you." Elissa's expression was pained as she wrapped her arm around Zevran and reached for the reins.

"I'll lead the others. We won't be far behind you." Nathaniel called out to her as she rode away, but doubted she heard him or cared.