The words hung in the air.
She is gone.
The panic which had begun to creep into his mind disappeared with Morrigan's words and he was glad for the brief moments of clarity before the feelings of loss would overwhelm him. There was no need for either of them to pretend what Morrigan meant by 'gone'. Elissa had left.
"Where?" Alistair finally spoke.
"I do not know. I ... lost her."
The admission of failure caused him to jerk his head up. "Lost her?"
Morrigan scowled at him as she caught the implication in his tone.
"Where was she headed, before you lost her?"
"North".
"The Free Marches." A dull ache washed over him breaking through the numbness. There had been a short-lived moment where he had wondered if her sense of hopelessness had caused her to seek out the Archdemon alone. Idiotic and reckless, at least it would have offered them a chance of catching her. But there had been no indication that the Archdemon lay towards the Marches.
"You must follow her." Morrigan broke into his thoughts.
"Me?"
"I had thought that as her love you would wish to find her!" The disgusted sneer with which Morrigan had addressed him for months reappeared on her face despite herself.
Alistair remained impassive. It was not the suggestion that he go after Elissa which had shocked him. It was the fact that Morrigan had suggested it.
"Why not you?"
"What?"
"Why didn't you follow her?" Alistair studied her as the early dawn light filtered in from the window slits. "Why did you come back?"
"I told you, I lost her!" she spat the words at him but her feigned anger only partially masked the conflict of emotions which flashed across her face.
His gaze flickered over her. At first glance he had taken her dishevelled appearance to be a part of her agitation but with closer inspection he could see that her boots were caked with dirt and her clothes were more tattered than he remembered. Her hair had fallen loose from its fastenings and every so often her hand brushed some of the wayward strands away from her face. But distracted as the movement appeared, she was deliberate in the way in which her finger tips ghosted across her cheek and avoided the reddened skin beneath her left eye. Something clicked in his head. With a familiarity that shocked both of them, Alistair reached out and touched her face. Her skin was cool save for the pocket of heat that was radiating from the delicate patch under her eye. Morrigan snarled at his touch but it did little to disguise her recoil as his thumb grazed against her cheekbone. Her eye socket was broken.
All powerful Morrigan, fabled Witch of the Wilds, had not simply lost her target. Elissa had sent her back.
Alistair let his hand fall back to his side as he moved away from her. It was clear now why Morrigan had come back. He had no doubt that the Witch had only returned to him because of her dark ritual. But it was Elissa who had forced her back.
He sank down on the wooden bench with a stifled groan and let his head sink into his hands. The dull ache which had only washed over him a few minutes ago now seemed to reach out and grasp at his heart. Suddenly he understood.
He had been ready to let Morrigan convince him. Convince him to leave, to abandon the city, to forget his obligations. It was true that he had not been there for Elissa; none of them had. They had all demanded her energy over the months. All had been desperate for someone to defer to; someone with whom they could find a safe haven from each of their pasts. And she had given them what they needed. Each new companion had been welcomed and a place in camp found for them. Every night she had spent time with them. Talking, laughing, bonding.
Gradually she had won each of them over. It would have been a much simpler task to have charmed her way with them as she did the merchants and the guards but she had made a conscious choice not to. Instead she had listened, encouraged and comforted. Little by little she drew out of them all their deepest fears and regrets. And now although she had not been able to confide her own dark doubts, she had sent Morrigan back as a last gift to him. He felt the weight of the burden Elissa had carried for so long settle onto his shoulders. Wherever Elissa was headed, she did not plan on returning. It was now his duty, along with Riordan, to overcome the Archdemon.
She had known.
The thought comforted him. Even in her darkest moments, Elissa had shown she understood him better than he did himself. All that prevented him from following her was his duty. Duty as a Grey Warden and duty as King. But she had known that he would not turn away from that duty so long as he was reminded of it. Even as she had sent Morrigan back; even before the choice was offered to him; she had known what he would choose. What he had to choose. But it did not make the feeling of betrayal any easier to bear.
His or hers.
Alistair hoped that, somewhere amid the hopelessness and dread, she had also known that he forgave her.
He lifted his head from his hands and forced himself to stand. As he turned to face Morrigan, the words he knew he had to say caused a bitter taste in his mouth.
"My place is here. I won't go."