Salem

I packed the earth until it was flat and hard beneath my feet. Stone. The granite that my heart should have been made from.

How dare this tenderness still exist inside me? How dare I be driven to grief by actions that were taken by necessity?

The mission...the mission had been successful. Genitivi had been saved; he had the knowledge we needed and Leliana had the key. Everything had fallen into place. Still, misgivings filled me. How could ultimate healing be found in this place, a place that worshipped death and spilled blood? And, after all I had done to reach this place, would the Maker smile on me and give me back my eyes or send me back blind to face the fate I had chosen.

I heaved a sigh and wiped the sweat from my face, leaving streaks of dirt. My hands smelled like death; my clothes of blood and sweat and earth. I hated it. I hated that I was never clean. I hated the knowledge that no ocean, stream, or waterfall could ever wash away the stains upon my soul. I had never intended to live my life in the half-light between good and evil.

I suppose the title "Grey Warden" is more fitting than most realize. We are the guardians of light and life, standing in the shadows, forsaking our names and our hopes in defense of those who will never know...or understand. We stain our souls with blood and our minds with decisions that no person of any race should be forced to make.

Frustrated, I speared the shovel into the ground. My burned hands shrieked in protest. Wind whispered past me, tossing my hair. It, too, reeked of copper, salt, and decay.

I should never have come here.

Another scent entered filled the air. Sunlight and clover...and dog. Burrow nudged into my leg, whimpering. He could sense my moods better than any of my companions, even Leliana. But he had known me since his birth. He was the sole reminder of the time when I was simply Salem Cousland, the youngest child of a noble's house. He had known me when I was truly good.

"I don't know what to do." I spoke to him, soft, lest the wind take my voice and lay it against ears I did not wish to hear. "They all look to me as a leader and I'm lost. I'm blind and still they turn to me for guidance. It's too much, Burrow. It is too much for anyone to bear."

I sat down, weary. Burrow whuffed into my ear, unimpresed with my self-pity. My father had said that mabari could sense the truth of a person's soul. That they would not follow anyone with darkness in their hearts or ill intent towards another.

"What do you know of it?" I asked the dog, venting my anger. "What do you know of being alone in the dark with a thousand voices screaming your name? You are not forced to decide who lives and who dies, or ascertain the measure of a soul in the blink of an eye. I have let an assassin go free and taken the life of a child. How does this equalize?"

He growled at me. Come to your senses, I imagined him speaking. Leave this place for a moment and recall your life before. Remember who you were. Remember what you dream of being.

"I dream of being free." I whispered, laying my arm across his broad shoulders. "I dream of a life where I can live with you and Leliana and simply exist. I want my name back, Burrow. I was born during the war with Orlais, you know. My father named me Salem. Because it meant peace. And his dream was of a world where nation did not march against nation and the blood of young men and women did not water the ground."

I wept. I wept for the death of my father's dream and for my abandonment of my name. I cried for the child who now lay deep beneath the earth. I wept for Leliana's dreams of Marjolaine, and how those had been cruelly severed, twice, with the same blade. I shed tears for Zevran's slavery, Sten's seemingly hopeless quest, Morrigan's bitterness, Wynne's past failures that haunted her still, Oghren's whiskey-soaked nightmares, and Alistair's fears.

Burrow licked my hand, comforting me as best he knew how. Hot tears sluiced down my face, leaving trails of salt and fire. I berated myself even as my spirit screamed in relief; as the dam of my emotions broke. I could not afford this weakness. Not here. Not now. Not when so much depended on my ability to remain calm.

Soft, strong arms wrapped around me; warmth pressed against my skin. "Cry, my love." Leliana whispered. "I am here for you."

Too broken to resist, I turned into her arms, laid my head against her shoulders, and sobbed. She held me as my body shook with tremors, as grief poured from me in waves.

"I..." I gasped, "I've failed you all. I...please forgive me."

"You have failed no one." her voice was soft, but I knew steel lay behind the silk. "So much has been forced upon you, my warden. It is unfair, it is cruel, and there are days when I do not know how you remain standing beneath the weight. You need not weep in silence, or save your grief for shadows."

"I...I cannot afford to be weak." I resisted, clinging to her all the more. I needed her strength, her surety, her absolute, unshakeable faith in the beauty of this world.

"Be weak." she encouraged me. "No one will suffer for it here. If you forsake your tears, then soon you shall have none. No grief, no remorse, no hesitance. I have seen it before. I know what you believe you are becoming and it is not true. It is not true because of what you are showing me now."

"You...you can't forgive me for this, can you?" I asked. I had felt her presence near me after the child died. I had felt her turn her back.

"For what crime?" she asked. "Defending yourself? The rest of us? You had no choice."

A fresh wave of tears. "That does not solve anything."

"I know. Nothing I can say will change the past, Salem. I can only give you what I have in this moment. You are no monster. You are not evil. You have nothing in common with the darkspawn or the depraved citizens of Haven. You are Salem, my..."

"Don't say it." I warned. I did not want to hear the title that had caused me all of this grief.

I could sense her smile as she pressed her lips to my cheek. "My promise of peace." she breathed against my ear. "My hope for our future. I love you. No life nor death will change that."

I basked for a small moment in the comfort of her presence, the peace of her spirit, and the fire of her love. At last, I pulled away from her embrace. "I should go..."

"No." she tightened her grip. "Stay with me a short time longer. As you said, there will be time for that later."

Too weak to resist, too exhausted to argue, I stayed, briefly surrendering my burdens. Leliana spoke true. The time to shoulder them once more would come all too soon.