"Absolutely not," Alistair bursts out. "That is blood magic! My lady—"

Lady Isolde speaks over him.

"You mean to say, through a death you can kill the demon without killing my boy?"

Jowan nods miserably.

She straightens. In the moment before she speaks, Alistair knows what she is about to say, and he is both horrified and awed by the utter calmness and regality with which she says it.

"Then I will do it," she says. "It is my fault Connor is this way. I will sacrifice his life to save his."

"Isolde…" Bann Teagan is at a loss for words. "How will I explain to Brother what has occurred? His son, possessed, his arling, destroyed, his wife, murdered—"

"Sacrificed," Lady Isolde corrects, "or 'gone willingly.' " She turns to Jowan. "Tell me, what else does this ritual consist of?"

"It is not quite so easy, my lady," Jowan says. "Only a mage may enter the Fade and remain conscious to do battle with the demon. I cannot go, as I am doing the ritual. And…"

And the only other mage is Morrigan, Jowan does not say. He does not need to. From the look dawning upon Lady Isolde's face, she knows it.

And Morrigan knows it too, if the haughty look upon her face is any indication. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again with a clack as Lady Isolde turns and without hesitation sinks to her knees.

"Please, lady mage," Lady Isolde says, face turned to the floor. Alistair's throat tightens. "Will you do me this one boon? All you ask of me, as long as it is in my power to provide, I will give, so long as you save my son."

Morrigan's face, if it is possible, grows haughtier.

"Well, well. To have a noblewoman groveling at my feet," she begins. The Lady Cousland, however, takes her hand to stop her.

"Morrigan, may we speak a moment?"

She and Morrigan withdraw, leaving the rest of them: Alistair, Leliana, Jowan, Bann Teagan, and the knights. Lady Isolde is still on her knees.

Alistair goes to help her up, and she takes his hand. But when she sees who he is, her face hardens.

"Peace, my lady," Alistair says. "I do not come to—I don't know what you think, but I'm not going to do it. I mean no harm to you or Connor."

The Lady Isolde's grip slackens, then she sighs.

"You were trained as a Templar, were you not? Tell me: will the Circle be kind to my son?"

"I was never a full Templar," Alistair says. "But…Kinloch Hold is not Kirkwall's Gallows. I do not think they will harm him."

"Even a boy who's already made deals with a demon?" Lady Isolde says bitterly. "Your mage companion is correct. I should never have hidden Connor. Everything has stemmed from my own selfishness."

Alistair startles at the recrimination falling from her lips. Bann Teagan steps forward to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"You did not know, Isolde," he says thickly. "No one could have known."

"Had I done the right thing, this would never have happened," Lady Isolde says. "Your teyrna Cousland, Alistair…will she be able to convince the lady mage?"

"I'm sure she will do her best," he murmurs. Then he sees Lady Cousland signaling to him, Leliana, and Jowan. "Excuse me, my lady."

The five of them gather in the anteroom. Lady Cousland's face is very grim.

"Morrigan has informed me of what happens in the Fade," she begins. "A demon could take over her body, which would cause even greater problems for us; Morrigan is far more magically powerful than a small boy. I don't think we could fight off a Morrigan-abomination."

"Alistair might," Leliana says doubtfully. Lady Cousland inclines her head.

"True, which means we need Alistair on standby to ensure nothing…untoward happens." Her mouth twists. "But I'd rather Alistair not kill Morrigan, if that is all right."

"Pity," Alistiar mutters. Morrigan says, "As if he could."

"But Ailis, are we truly going to allow Lady Isolde to be killed?" Leliana says. "Jowan, are you certain this is the only way?"

"Tis the only way, Leliana," Morrigan says quellingly. "Anything else and we risk Redcliffe being overrun once more. T'would be the lives of many, for certain gone, in exchange for one." Bare shoulders shrug. "It seems to me a fair deal."

Jowan's hands are twisting and untwisting.

"I don't want to do this," he says. "This is deep, dark magic. I should be killed for this. But I only want to make things right." He turns beseeching grey eyes upon them. "Will this make things right?"

It is the Lady Cousland who murmurs the harsh truth. "I don't know, Jowan." She places a hand on his shoulder. "But it would kill a demon and save Connor. And Redcliffe. Surely that is a step forward."

Leliana looks conflicted, but says nothing. Perhaps, Alistair thinks, she is also weighing the situation, and finding that, distressingly, everything points to this being the only possible solution.

The rest is done in a blur. Alistair feels as if he is in a dream: the ritual is set up, Lady Isolde settled on the dais…

"This is ugly," one of the knights says. "Should we not slay the man for even daring to think of slaying the arlessa?"

"But it's to save young Lord Connor," another knight says.

Ser Perth shakes his head helplessly.

"Ugly work."

Lady Cousland stands by Morrigan, murmuring to her softly. Leliana goes to her as well.

"My friend, be safe," Leliana says to Morrigan. The witch startles.

"Myself, your friend? And when did this momentous occasion occur?" she questions. Leliana laughs softly.

"You are a ridiculous person, Morrigan," she informs the witch.

Alistair finds himself standing by Jowan, who is trembling softly. He doesn't know what to say, not really, so instead he places one gauntleted hand on the man's shoulder—a gesture of comfort, he notices, that is becoming common around their merry band nowadays.

"You don't trust me," Jowan says suddenly.

Alistair looks at him.

"I was trained as a Templar," he says. "I don't trust any blood mage. But Connor is…"

He thinks of the small, wrinkly infant that had driven the arlessa to destroy his life. He thinks of Arl Eamon sneaking the child out to the kennels for Alistair to hold. He thinks of a small golem doll tucked in next to a sleeping baby before he left for Templar training.

"…Connor is like my brother," he finishes. "And if you can save him…that will be good. Better than good. Fantastic."

The Lady Isolde lies upon the dais, but she hears them and rises up. Alistair is arrested by the look in her eyes—disdainful and yet soft, at the same time.

"Connor is not your brother," she states. Alistair bows his head. "No, he is not, and I am sorry I ever thought otherwise. Nevertheless…"

She pauses, then starts again.

"Nevertheless, I would ask of you to care for him, as you would a true brother."

Alistair thinks of his own true brother, and how he had not been able to care for the man. He clears this throat, and nods.

"It will be done, my lady."

The last few bits of the ritual are arranged, and Morrigan stands by the prone Lady Isolde, a cushion positioned to catch her should she fall. Lady Isolde says to Morrigan, "My eternal gratitude, madame." It is hard to understand her through the thickness of her voice. "Maker go with you."

"I certainly hope not," Morrigan ripostes. "That would be rather distracting."

Then the ritual is underway.

The Lady Isolde dies in a spray of blood, and Alistair forces himself not to look away. From the corner of his eye, he sees Morrigan slump onto a cushion. But most of his vision is taken up by a noblewoman's writhing and twisting, as Jowan wrings every drop of energy from her body in order to send Morrigan into the Fade.

Lady Cousland, beside him, is stone-faced. But when all the contortions are over, she rushes to Lady Isolde's side and closes the woman's eyes.

"Go to the Maker's side, brave mother," she whispers. "Brave, strong, worthy mother."

Alistiar stoops to help her up, and Leliana leads them to a bench. Jowan walks over to them, swaying.

"I'm sorry," he says weakly, eyes downcast.

"Don't be," Lady Cousland says. "She did it for her son. My sister-in-law…my sister-in-law died protecting her son, too. And my mother died protecting my father. I'd like to be…as brave as they."

"You are," Alistair says. "I mean. You took the Joining, for one thing. That takes guts."

"Darkspawn guts," she jokes. Alistair winces.

"You had to remind me."

Jowan says, "My mother thought I was an abomination for having magic. I suppose she was right."

"Don't," Leliana says fiercely. "You are trying to atone for your sins. I may not understand the methods you use, nor entirely agree…but the Maker sees your heart. If you are truly repentant, He will know and credit it unto you as righteousness."

Jowan quirks a smile. "Chantry girls," he says. "So fierce in their beliefs."

"Oh? You've known other Chantry girls?"

A shadow crosses over his face. "One," Jowan says.

They lapse into silence, as together they wait for Morrigan to succeed.

Of course she does, and as she wakes, Connor comes stumbling into the hall, rubbing his eyes.

"Mother?" he queries. Lady Cousland runs to him and catches him up, turning so he does not see his mother's corpse.

"Hush, Connor," she says. He begins to struggle, not recognizing her. "Calm yourself. I am a friend. No, don't look—!"

But he has squirmed out of her arms, and with a horrified cry he rushes to his mother.

"Mother? Mother!" he sobs, shaking her. "Mother, please wake! Mother!"

Morrigan hits him with a sleep spell.

"What?" she says to all the incredulous gazes sent her way. "If he had summoned another demon to perform necromancy, we would be short a willing sacrifice."

Connor is put to bed, and they all convene in the great hall once more.

"Jowan," Bann Teagan begins. He looks pained. "I must admit, I know not what to do with you. You poisoned my brother, driving Connor to madness. But you also helped us to free him. I do not know if the scales are even."

Jowan's head is bowed. "I know not either, my lord."

"What say you?" Bann Teagan appeals to Lady Cousland. "What shall we do with him, my lady?"

Lady Cousland seems to be thinking of something very deeply. She holds something small in her palm, and her thumb rubs across it as she speaks.

"Jowan is attempting to redeem himself," she says, "and I think it would hamper his atonement if he stays in prison. But I doubt you will allow him to simply go free, Teagan."

"I would not," he confirms.

She unfurls her palm, and shows it to them. Alistair's breath catches, realizing what she means to do.

"Then let us have him," she says, the vial of the Warden's Oath—a few drops of the Joining—sparkling in her palm. "Let him join the Grey Wardens."


Author's note: To the one guest who asked why I deleted all those shadows on AO3, technically...

I had another story titled all those shadows almost killed your light, with the premise of Ailis never becoming a Grey Warden. However, I lost inspiration for that one and chose to write this instead. I deleted that story, and reused the title for this work.

Thank you for reading the continuing adventures of Ailis and the A-Team!