Chapter 22 - Burdens

"What do you mean he's gone"? Anders demanded.

"I saw him ride out just moments ago actually," Varel replied. "I did think it curious that he would take off alone, and with such haste, but then of course I assumed it was Warden business and beyond my authority to question."

"That son-of-a-bitch!" Anders seethed in sudden shock and fury. "He fooled us all into believing…and then he goes and…I'll kill him."

"Now let's not be too hasty," Leliana said softly. "We cannot be certain that he is responsible. He might have gone for help for all we know."

"Where would he go for help? The tower?" Anders replied with a sarcastic snort. "It would take him a month just to get there and back. And what about his timing? Why would he leave so suddenly? Without even so much as a word to anyone?"

"He has a point, bard," Oghren said from the doorway. "The Howe boy has an impressive knowledge of poisons, not to mention the fact that he was sittin' right next to her at supper. He could'a slipped somethin' into her vittles without anyone bein' the wiser. Just makes sense."

"It makes far too much sense," Leliana replied. "Someone may wish us to believe that it is Nathaniel."

"Or perhaps he is his father's son after all," Anders spat furiously. "He's already tried to kill her once, what's to stop him from trying again?"

"I have a hard time believing this Nathaniel would harm her. I have watched him closely since our arrival. He cares for her, of this I am sure," Zevran interjected.

"I agree with Zevran. Nevertheless, even if he is somehow responsible it should be for Falcon to decide what to do with him. For now, you should concentrate solely on healing her. There will be time enough to worry about the rest later," Leliana said.

Anders nodded tersely as he forced his anger to the back of his mind so that he could focus on the task at hand. He shooed everyone out of the room save for Zevran, who immediately began listing the ingredients they would need to concoct the antidote. The process was both time-consuming and complicated. Anders had to give Zevran credit for remembering it all down to the smallest detail. He stopped every so often so that he could check Falcon's vitals, which were increasingly deteriorating as time progressed.

"Maker, she's burning up! How much longer before it's ready?" Anders gasped as he checked her pulse once again and was shocked at how hot her skin was to the touch.

"Patience my dear warden," Zevran replied calmly. "We are nearly finished. Now hand me that pouch of dried elfroot."

Anders did as he asked and watched as the elf ground the dried herbs into a small bowl until it was the consistency of a fine powder. He poured it into a cauldron with the rest of the ingredients, stirring it briskly before turning to grab an empty vial from a nearby table. He carefully poured the contents of the cauldron into the vial and lifted it to eye level to inspect the consistency, tilting it back and forth before nodding and turning back to Anders.

"You'll have to prop her up so that we can administer the drought properly," Zevran said. "She must take all of it at once."

Anders nodded and moved to the bed. Carefully, he slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her to a half-sitting position, gently tilting her head back until her lips parted of their own accord.

"Slowly," Zevran prompted as Anders poured the contents into Alyx's mouth, making sure that every last drop disappeared between her lips.

"Good girl," he murmured as she swallowed reflexively. Gently, he laid her back down, brushing a strand of stray hair from out of her face. Anxiety clutched at his heart as he stared down at her still form and silently urged the potion to work.

"How long before it begins to work?" he asked the elf quietly.

"Of that I am unsure. In the case of the woman in Orzammar, we were called away before we were able to see the antidote take effect. The healer sent us a note the next morning to say that she would survive, but that was the last we heard of it," Zevran replied as he placed a hand on Anders' shoulder. "All we can do is wait and hope. Then again, perhaps there is more that you can do for her?"

"Hmm," Anders replied, his gaze never leaving Falcon's face. "At this point all I can do is try to bring the fever down, maybe make her a little more comfortable until I know whether or not the antidote will do its job."

"Then I shall leave her in your very capable hands. Falcon has told me that you are one of the finest healers she has ever met and the woman has uncanny sense of such things. If anyone can save her from the brink of death, it would be you. I, on the other hand, am better suited to the shadows," Zevran said, a devilish smile crossing his features.

"You have a plan?" Anders asked him, an eyebrow raised in question at the subtle meaning behind the assassin's words.

"Not one per say, but…I have a feeling that the answers we seek still lay within these walls. Should I learn anything, I will be sure to let you know."

Anders nodded and thanked him before Zevran slipped from the room. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before rolling up his sleeves. He prepared a cold compress to place upon her brow in the attempts to bring her fever down, changing it out at regular intervals so that it would not get too hot. He frequently gave her water and small doses of a healing tonic throughout the night, but nothing seemed to help. He finally sat down sometime just before dawn, realizing that at this point all he could really do is wait. Without meaning to he dozed off, startling awake several hours later to find Falcon's color had improved, her pulse once again even and natural. Upon further examination he found he could no longer sense the poison coursing through her veins. He breathed a sigh of relief, believing that she was out of danger.

By midday he began to realize how very wrong he was.

She was not in a natural sleep, of this he was certain, but neither could he tell what was keeping her unconscious. He hoped at first that it was simply a part of the recovery process, but even then he knew he was fooling himself.

The others came and went, asking him questions he had no answers to. He hardly noticed them as he continuously ran his hands over her body, trying to find something, anything to explain this new development. The only time he shook himself free of the trance-like state he found himself in was when Fergus Cousland walked into the room, a shadow of the stubborn, self-assured man that had waltzed into Falcon's study the night before.

Fergus's face was drawn and pale as he took in his sister's prostrate form. When he stumbled to the side of the bed and dropped to his knees in disbelief, Anders crossed to the other side of the room to give the man a little privacy. He tried not to listen to the simple, ardent words pouring from the Teryn's lips, but he could not help but overhear them.

"Maker, Alyx! I'm so sorry. I never meant…" he began, swallowing hard as a pained look crossed his face. "I know I'm overbearing, and I know you can't stand me sometimes, but…damn it, you can't leave me, not now. Who will tell me when I'm being an ass and put me in my place if you leave?" he continued, trying to smile as he said these last words, but the emotions were too much for him. Anders saw him briefly put a hand to his eyes, and he realized that Fergus was crying. When he spoke again his voice was thick and shaking with emotion. "Please, Alyx, I love you! You and Leliana...you're all I have and you…I can't...stay. Damn it, Alyx, stay with us! If not for me then for your daughter!"

Anders heart went out to the man. He never had a sister but he had an idea of what he was going through. When Fergus finally collected himself and asked him how things looked, he didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Instead, he smiled and told him not to worry.

He doubled his effort from that point on, occasionally placing restorative spells on himself so that he could keep working through the night. The others each offered to help in their own way, but he would simply shake his head and turn them away. Even Velanna had offered to take his place as healer so that he could get a few hours of rest, but Anders didn't trust her enough to leave Falcon alone with the elf.

"Fine, far be it from me to offer my services, human. You will kill yourself by overextending and then where will she be?" Velanna asked haughtily before sauntering out of the room. It took a moment but Anders realized she was right. He called her back, though he had to practically beg to get the hard-headed woman to renew her offer.

He slept only a few hours, but it was enough to make him feel somewhat human again. When he walked back into Falcon's room he hoped that something had changed while he was away, but when he silently asked Velanna with a single, pleading look, the elf simply shook her head and exited the room without a word.

By the third day Anders was at his wit's end.

She would not wake. Though her vitals had improved, her body had stopped responding. Light, voices, even pain would not bring her around. Any potions or water that he tried to administer her body would reject. He had done everything within his power to revive her but it seemed as if this ailment, whatever it was, was beyond his skills as a healer. He even considered sending someone to the Circle for help, but he knew that it would be far too late before anyone could make it back.

Anders began to quietly panic.

She was slowly, painfully fading, and there was nothing he could do about it. Soon he would have to tell the others; soon they would know that he had failed.

Lifting her once again he tried to force water down her throat, but it simply trickled back out of her mouth, just as it had for the past day and a half. Placing her gently back down on the bed he scrubbed his hands over his face as he tried to collect his scattering senses. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry as exhaustion and fear set in. His resources exhausted, Anders decided to do something he hadn't for years…he prayed.

Uh…hi there…Maker? When I said that I wanted to get Falcon in bed, this is not exactly what I meant...he began, but then realized that this line of thought was probably significantly inappropriate, so he started again.

Maker…if you're listening…and I hope you're listening…then I have a favor to ask you. If you spare her, I promise that I will start going to chantry services again. Can't promise that they'll actually have me as I'm a mage, but I can try, right?

Then of course that didn't seem right either. Bribing the divine? Probably not a good idea, he thought. He considered threatening the Maker but that made less sense than the bribing. Finally, he fell back on simple, outright begging. Closing his eyes, he poured everything he had into his desperate, silent appeal.

Please let her live, Maker. Send me the wisdom to heal her or send us someone who can. There is too much counting on her strength, her skill as both a leader and a warden, as well as her strength of heart. We need her. Gah, who am I kidding! I need her.

Opening his eyes he stared at Falcon, trying to ascertain if there was any difference in her appearance. She lay motionless and unchanged, just as she had the past few days. He huffed, blowing a few strands of hair out of his face in the process.

"Could you maybe give me a sign that you at least got the message?" he said out loud.

Silence.

He hadn't really expected a response, but he had to try, didn't he?

Suddenly the door burst open and Leliana ran in, panting with exertion.

"He's back! Nathaniel's back and he has Wynne with him!" she gasped in excitement.

"What? Nate…Wynne is here?" Anders replied incredulously just before the woman herself strolled briskly into the room, Nathaniel just behind her.

"Wynne, thank the Maker! I thought you left for Cumberland weeks ago!" he exclaimed as he threw his arms around the elderly mage in greeting.

Wynne chuckled and leaned back to look at him, concern momentarily flashing in her eyes when she saw the state he was in. Anders tried not to wince, but it was obvious from the look on her face that he was not looking his best.

"Yes, well, delay after delay had me waiting in Amaranthine twiddling my thumbs. It was lucky your companion here found me when he did. I was literally just moments away from boarding a ship when he stopped me," Wynne replied.

"What about the College of Magi?" Anders asked, smiling as Wynne tsked and waved her hand dismissively.

"They've waited this long for me; they can wait a little longer. When Nathaniel told me of Alyxandria's condition I knew that I could not simply turn away. Though I have great confidence in your skills, my dear, I had to see she was alright for myself. Now that I'm here and see the look in your eyes, I'm glad that I decided it was necessary," Wynne replied before turning back to Nathaniel. "You best lay down, young man, before you fall down," she said as her eyes drilled into his.

"But, I—"

"I will brook no arguments from you. I am a healer after all, and I know a case of acute exhaustion when I see it," Wynne replied in motherly, clipped tones.

Nate looked like he was about to argue further despite the elderly mage's warnings. He looked behind them both to the still form on the bed, his face paling further as he took in the changes illness had wrought in Falcon's small frame. Indeed, trying to see her as Nathaniel might, Anders realized she looked far too close to death for comfort.

"You'll be of no use to her dead on your feet, my dear. The moment something changes, I promise I'll send for you," Wynne continued, he voice and demeanor melting into warm understanding as she squeezed Nathaniel's arm insistently.

He swallowed hard but finally nodded at Wynne in acquiescence. Anders studied the man and noted the deep bruising under his eyes from lack of sleep and the several days' growth of facial hair. He did seem somewhat unsteady on his feet, a very un-Nate-like trait, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he stood there staring daggers at Wynne. In short, he looked like a man that had been on the road for days without rest. In fact, he was astounded at how fast Nathaniel made it to Amaranthine and back. It had taken their entire party just as long to get to Amaranthine from the Vigil as it took him to get there, find Wynne and return. He must have ridden straight through without stopping for more than to change horses! Anders realized.

"Nate—" Anders called before the other man could walk away.

What are you doing? His mind screamed as he realized he was about to apologize to his fellow warden for believing the worst of him, though Nathaniel had no idea that they considered him suspect. Then again, he thought as he looked into Nathaniel's eyes and saw the dare in the silverite gaze. The man's far too observant for his own good, Anders muttered to himself.

"Thank you," he told him finally, and then realized he truly meant it. With Wynne here they might have a chance to save her after all. Nate nodded in acknowledgment and then turned and quietly left the room.

"How did he know to find you?" Anders asked as he turned back to Wynne.

"He didn't, or so he said when I asked the same. He claimed he was simply working on a gut feeling. He didn't know precisely what he was looking for or how to find it, he only knew that he had to try. To act when there was still time to do so. It's his gift, Anders, and a useful one at that," Wynne replied as she moved to the bedside to examine Falcon.

She moved nimble, wizened hands over Falcon's body, the pulse of magic glowing blue against her pale skin as Wynne concentrated.

"Nathaniel told me that there was poison at work here but I sense no such thing within her," Wynne said.

"Zevran knew of an antidote, one he learned from you actually. It seemed to work at first. As you said, there is no trace of poison in her blood stream, but she remains comatose," Anders replied. "What's more, her body rejects both nourishment and healing potions. I've tried everything, Wynne. Whatever this is…it's beyond my skills."

"Hmm," was Wynne's only comment as she continued to examine Falcon. What seemed like hours later (though it was more likely mere minutes) Wynne sighed deeply and sat down on the edge of the bed. She shot Anders a look that made his pulse race with worry.

"Something is keeping her in the fade. Something that is feeding off of her. Draining her," Wynne said quietly. "We must send someone in after her, and quickly before it is too late. Considering the rate of her degeneration we do not have a lot of time to spare. She is failing fast, Anders, far faster than she should be."

Anders face drained of all color at her assessment, but he nodded in understanding.

"I'll go," he nearly whispered.

"I thought you might say that, and glad I am that you are willing to do so. I would go myself, but we have no idea what you might be facing on the other side. Age has finally caught up to me and I can no longer battle as I once did," Wynne replied with another small chuckle before her face fell, another thought obviously taking precedent. "Tell me you have another mage at hand. We need at least three to conduct the ritual, though more is better."

Anders jumped to his feet and opened the door to scream down the hallway for Velanna. When he turned back to Wynne he saw a look of amusement flash across her face. He shot her a questioning look, but all she did was shrug and shake her head. Moments later Velanna entered the chamber and the three mages immediately began preparing for the enchantment.

Word must have gotten around about what they were about to do. By the time they were ready to begin, Oghren, Leliana, Fergus and even Teagan gathered inside the chamber, each sitting or standing in silent determination.

"You can all stay just as long as you do not interrupt the enchantment once it begins. Her life is depending on it," Wynne told them briefly as she gave them each a hard look of warning. When she was satisfied with their responses, she turned back to Anders and pushed him into a chair next to the bed. "I doubt this will be as simple as it sounds. You'll have to look for her first. Be alert and be careful, Anders. You don't know what is holding her there," she told him as she leaned down to look him directly in the eyes.

"I will, Wynne, and I'll bring her back. I promise," Anders answered, his mouth set in a determined line as he squeezed Wynne's hand.

"I am counting on it," she answered with a wink as she squeezed his hand in return before moving to the opposite side of the bed.

Velanna and Wynne stood parallel to each other on opposite sides of the bed, their hands connected above Falcon as they began to weave the spell. Anders closed his eyes as he began to feel the pull of magic wash over him. He concentrated on the spell, not quite hearing the words but feeling them as his subconscious reached out to pass through the veil.

Hold on, Falcon, I'm coming, was his last conscious thought as the tidal-wave of magic finally pulled him under and the world faded to black.

*Muse Tunes: "Red Diary" by Dario Marianelli (V for Vendetta OST); "Darcy's letter" by Jean-Yves Thibaudet (Pride and Prejudice OST) and "I never Thanked You" byAlan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST); "Burdens" and "Scarlet Fever" by Thomas Newman (Little Women OST).