Salem

I stormed away from Leliana, furious. She had been hurt. She. Had. Been. Hurt. It did not matter that she said the would was superficial. It did not matter that the fight had been finished quickly. None of that mattered. All that did was the blood on my lover's skin. I knew, I knew, that if I had been in that fight, the damn darkspawn archers would not even have gotten in range.

I promised to protect them, my inner voice scoffed. So much for good intentions, words and promises cast into the wind. I succeed in protecting Leliana from Marjolaine, only to fail her now. No more. No matter the cost, no matter the danger, I will not let this happen again.

Slow, too slow, I picked my way across the terrain, listening for the sound of Morrigan's voice. Her words carried clear, complaining about the stench of the darkspawn. Somehow, I did not notice it. Perhaps it had something to do with my tainted blood. After all, according to Alistair, all wardens reached a point where they became more darkspawn than men. The Calling. A chill shot up my spine. Thirty years at best.

I did not ask for this, I sighed. I wanted to grow old in Highever, to continue my family's legacy. Maker, why? Although everything that has happened here, I calmed myself, has led me to Leliana. All this pain endured for a small glimmer of joy. But such a joy. One that I will not lose to death.

"Morrigan?" I called. The witch had gone silent.

"Over here, blind one." she sounded perturbed, but that was nothing unusual. "Tell me," she asked, leading me closer with the sound of her voice, "why is the little songstress spared this odious detail? Is that one of the privilege of fucking our leader?"

"Curb your tongue, witch." I ordered, in no mood for Morrigan's games. "You know the rules. Excepting me and Alistair, no one with an open wound touches the darkspawn. I am here to ask a favor of you; let us desist with the mutual trying of patiences."

"Name your favor and I shall name my price." I could picture her arms crossed, her hip thrust out in defiance.

"What we spoke of before the darkspawn attacked. Do it."

"Really?" I measured her footsteps as she circled me like a predator.

"Yes." my resolve deepened. "I won't be helpless again."

"You mean," her lips were against my ear, "that you will not let anything touch your precious nightingale. Am I right?"

"Do you envy Leliana?" I asked, knowing it would anger Morrigan.

"Envy?" she backed away with a forced laugh. "No. How ludicrous. Pity, I do feel. But never envy, warden."

Pity? Pity because I am Leliana's lover? Or because she is mine? "You are treading water, Morrigan. Will you help me, or are you content to stand here insulting the woman I love?"

"Love." another chuckle. "Such a pointless, inhibiting emotion. I'll help you, Salem. 'Tis but a small favor, after all. Give me your hand."

I extended my hand to her and she grasped it. Magic crawled along the surface of my skin before clawing its way into my blood. Pain lanced between my temples and the world flashed white.

Everything is blurred, distorted, hazed over with a glassy sheen. A wasteland stretches out before me, a vast, empty nothingness. I'm...in the Fade. I realized. But somehow conscious? Cogent?

I glance around, searching for Morrigan. She is nowhere to be seen. How is consciousness in the Fade possible without a mage,I wonder. Unless...this must be a lucid dream. Morrigan spoke of bringing forth the primal mind...the sentient one must dwell somewhere when it departs.

"What have we here?" an unearthly toe, laced with smoke and silk and dreams. "A lone wanderer in an unfamiliar land?"

I turn; find myself face to face with an unholy beauty. Lavender and silver skin shines in the Fade's half-light. Violet eyes gleam like stars, so deep one could easily drown in their gaze. She wears no clothing but ornate, interlocking chains. I feel as though I can look upon her forever and be happy.

"Who are you, far traveler?" she asks, threading her fingers in my hair. "Does one who has come from such distance remember the name they carry?"

"Salem." I manage to speak. "Salem Cousland."

"Ssssssalemmm." she purrs, and pleasant shivers spark across my body. "How very beautiful. Tell me, Salem, why have you come?"

I...I don't remember. "I..."

"Want to stay with me?" she places a finger beneath my chin, tilting her intoxicating eyes to mine. "Want to watch time float by with all your dreams of peace realized?"

Watch...watch...I want... "I want to see again." I whisper.

"If you stay with me, you need never worry about blindness again."

Leliana. "No. I have to go back. But I must be able to stand in battle."

She frowns. "I can return your sight to you, Salem. But you must give me something, something of equal value."

Oh hell, my mind clears, I am conversing with a demon, and it wants to make a deal. I know for a fact that she can restore my sight. The Urn of Sacred Ashes may or may not exist. It is not a guarantee. If it should turn out to be nothing but a madman's rambling, then I am dead before the final battle...as are those I love. Was this your plan, Morrigan? To have me sign a demonic contract to heal my eyes? You were so sure, were you not? So certain that this would work? Bitch.

"I do not deal with demons." I say, unable to entertain the idea further.

I cannot bear the thought of my father and mother looking down at their daughter from the Beyond, watching me consort with a demon. And Leliana...she would never forgive me. I cannot live with myself if I betray her in this way.

"Are you certain, Ssssssalemmm?" my name emerges on a hiss.

"No." I answer, unable to deny that I long to take the sure and easy route. "But I remain firm. I will not take your offer."

Her countenance warps into a face of wrath. Gone is the beauty, the seduction, the all-encompassing pull of desire. "Then face what you truly fear, Salem Cousland. The last thing your waking eyes shall ever see."

With a flash, she vanishes, leaving the smell of charred flesh in the air and taking the wasteland with her. The desert warps and shifts, sand to stone, emptiness to the city of Denerim. I stand before the archdemon, who lies in a puddle of steaming, acidic blood. My swords rest in my hands, acid eating away at the steel. They are ruined. But the city is safe.

I turn away, weary but triumphant. My friends stand with me, bloody, battered, but alive. All but one...

Leliana.

I face the archdemon again, searching for her. "Leli." the words emerge in a whisper. "Leliana!" the scream, absolute panic and confusion.

I rush towards the archdemon, fear all but obliterating thought. Bodies lie all around, our allies and enemies. Hers is not among them.

"Leliana!" I cry once again.

"Salem?" a weak voice.

Leliana rests against the archdemon's massive side, her eyes closed, pain stamped on her features. I run to her side, kneeling next to her. A darkspawn's arrow is embedded in her thigh. Blood drips from the arrowhead, puddling on the ground.

"I," she pants, "I tried to make it to you. I can't...walk anymore."

"That's all right." I assure her, combing my fingers through her hair, frantic. "You're all right; we're all right. We're alive, Leli, we survived. Wynne! Wynne, we need you!"

"No use, love." Leliana whispers, moving her arm away from its protective position across her torso.

Blood drains from my face as I see the three deep punctures to her abdomen.

Tears flood my eyes as I realize she is right. Magic will not work fast enough. I'm...I am going to lose her.

"Leliana, no." I beg. "Stay with me. Don't die. Please, dear heart, please stay with me."

Her eyes glaze over and look into a distance I cannot see. "Nothing would...give me...greater pleasure." she smiles and my heart breaks.

Silent, Wynne comes alongside me. She lays a hand on my shoulder and kneels beside me. She extends her other hand to Leliana, pushing magic into my bard's broken body. I look at the senior enchanter, daring to hope.

"Wynne..."

"I've taken away her pain." the healer answers. "I'm sorry, Salem."

I turn to my beautiful songstress; watch her eyes close. "I love you, Leliana. With all my heart. Never forget that."

"Will...love you...always." her chest falls. It will not rise again.

"Leliana!" my grief-stricken cry echoes across the rooftops of Denerim. "Please, Maker, let this be a dream. Do not let this be real! Give her back to me!"

I turn my face away, unable to look at her lifeless form any longer. I will go the Deep Roads, I resolve. Damn this world. The Blight is over, the war is ended. Why should I continue fighting for a world without her?

"Give her back to me." I beg again, longing to take her in my arms, press her lips to mine, savor a life where I am free to be with her. How can this be? How am I here, at the end of days, victorious and yet defeated? I close my eyes and the world darkens.

In the darkness I am surrounded by pain, anguish, a wrath that has no beginning and no end for it is eternal. Ragged agony tears at my veins from the inside, shredding me apart until all rationality is forfeit and I become a beast with nothing but rage locked inside of me. Nothing but feral desire. Nothing but the primal need to save Leliana.

I open my eyes and see the light of the dying sun in the distance. Something seems...wrong. When I had closed my eyes...the world had darkened. But I am blind. The primal mind knows this, realizes this, knows that sight is an illusion, that all of this is an illusion and that somewhere, beyond the haze of the dream, lies the reality and the flesh and the living, not the dead.

I lift a darkspawn's blade from the ground, turn, and plunge it into Leliana's body. She convulses and screams, changing, morphing into the demonic beauty that had greeted me.

"This will not be the last thing I see." I vow, pressing the sword deeper. "If I remain blind for eternity, I will never witness this! I will bring down any number of gods and demons in my resolve! Now," I twist the blade with all my strength, savoring the demon's shrieks, drinking them in to slake the thirst of my unending, ferociously primal urge. To destroy all that which would endanger the one I love. "Burn in the Abyss!"

The creature writhes on the ground, then stops, twitches...dies. My vision fades and I swim back to the waking world.

"Harlot witch!" an Orlesian accent, drenched with fury. "I'll kill you!"