Salem

Morrigan's anguished groan ripped at me as Wynne and Leliana propped her up and cradled her back in my destroyed armor.

One battle, I seethed. Could we not have one battle where we walk away relatively unscathed?

"Salem, I need your help." Leliana called to me. "Wynne is exhausted. Can you help me carry Morrigan into the cavern?"

I walked towards her voice and knelt down, casting my hands about in the snow until I felt the edges of my chestplate. I nodded and waited for Leliana.

"Now." she ordered.

My shoulders and back protested as we lifted the witch. Morrigan screamed and it echoed through the mountains.

"Really, witch?" I taunted her as we moved, trying to keep her awake. "What would Flemeth say if she heard that?"

"Damn...you." Morrigan whimpered.

Good. Still conscious. "Damn me?" I asked. "You could not cast a spell if you tried. Wait until the rumors spread. A feared witch of the wilds brought to tears by a flesh wound? Your Korcari paradise is going to be overrun when all who hear no longer fear you."

"Don't...breathe...a word." Morrigan managed to make her tone threatening.

I smiled. "Not breathing words, Morrigan." the air gathered around us, thicker, warmer. We had moved inside. "Shouting from the tops of castles. Royal proclamations cried out in the streets. The witch of the wilds is a weak, pathetic, mewling kitten."

Morrigan stirred and fought our hold. "Going...to...end you!"

"Good." I encouraged her. "Hold on to that anger, Morrigan. Keep it with you."

The witch breathed in short, jerking gasps. You're going to make it through this. I swore I would not lose a single one of you and I intend to follow that through. I did not kill your mother for nothing, Morrigan. Stay alive.

"Over this way." Leliana guided me. "Oghren's found some wood and built a fire."

Wynne moved in front of us. "Bring her here." she dictated. I followed Leliana's lead as the mage guided her to the fire. We eased Morrigan to the ground and Wynne moved me out of the way.

"You're underfoot, warden." she said. "Leliana, I need water and bandages. Also, there is a needle and silk thread in my bag. I will have to stitch the wound closed."

Leliana moved away and I knelt beside the healer. I would not be tossed aside, not when someone I cared for was grappling with eternity.

"Wynne, how is she?" I asked.

"Not well, warden." the senior enchanter informed me, terse. "What little magic I had left was focused on her internal injuries. I can only hope it was enough to stop the bleeding. Most of her ribs are cracked or broken, her spine may be as well. Leliana, where is that water?"

"Here." Leliana answered. "Oghren found an entire cache of supplies. I have bandaging and herbs as well. Zevran is hanging a pot over the fire now and is melting snow and ice. Our water stores are low."

Wynne said nothing; I assumed she was too focused on Morrigan's injuries.

"Thank you, Leliana." I said in the mage's stead.

"Morrigan," Wynne spoke to the witch, "can you hear me?"

"What...do you...want?" Morrigan hissed between clenched teeth.

"I'm going to clean your wounds." Wynne informed her. "It will not be pleasant. You will, more than likely, lose consciousness."

She might be forced into the Fade, I brushed Morrigan's hair from her face, though I knew she hated physical affection. In her weakened state, that could go very, very wrong.

"S...Salem?" Morrigan asked. "Don't...let her...kill me."

I laughed under my breath. "I swear to you, you are in the best of care." I assured her. The time for tormenting her was done. She would be safe here. "Conserve your strength."

Morrigan reached out, her subconscious, human need for physical touch manifesting itself. I took her hand in my undamaged one, hoping that Leliana would understand. This was not attraction, or love. It was care, comfort...a different sort of love, and one that my bard and this witch had known all too little.

Morrigan's fingers were cold, and her hand trembled. "Leliana, elevate her legs." Wynne ordered. "The blood loss is sending her into shock. That is something we must prevent. And fetch me a lyrium draught. There should be a few left in my pack."

"Are you certain that is wise?" I asked. "Too much of that and you'll be in worse shape than Morrigan."

"I know my limits, Salem." Wynne snapped.

I did not care. We were all under an immense amount of strain. "As you say."

Morrigan's fingers went lax in mine. She had lost consciousness at last. I sighed, grateful that she was out of pain.

Wynne began cleaning the deep puncture in Morrigan's abdomen, asking Leliana for aid every now and again. I listened to the witch's uneven breaths before moving away and leaning against a distant wall, allowing the battle-fever to wash out of my system. My own hands began shaking, the one that had pierced the dragon's skull beginning to burn fiercely.

The dragon's blood had fountained over my hand when I had plunged my now-ruined knife into its brain. Most of my gauntlet had been melted away and the skin on my right hand was blistered and raw. I did not know how many layers of skin had been stripped away.

My shoulder throbbed unmercifully, every heartbeat sending pain pounding through my body. I sat back and inhaled, feeling a deep ache in my lungs. My ribs were cracked in the fight with Kolgrim. Hopefully the battle with the dragon made them no worse. Maker, I buried my head in my functional left hand, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to push away the headache I could feel building behind my eyes, I am sick of being injured and in pain. Ever since the tower of Ishal, some part of my body has been damaged. I no longer remember what it feels like to be whole. If my mother could see me now...

Burrow nudged my elbow and I wrapped my arm about his body. He could always sense when I thought of home. "If mother could see me now," I scratched the scruff of his neck with my good hand, "she would toss me out on my ear. I do not think she would even recognize me."

I'm so tired. I tried to pull my mangled gauntlet off; abandoned the attempt as agony shredded through my nerves. The soothing scent of Antivan leather greeted me as Zevran sat down.

"Good fight, warden." he said, zeal and excitement lighting his voice. "Imagine the taverns now, beautiful women clinging to us as we show our battle scars and tell tales of how we brought down a dragon."

Show our battle scars, I scoffed internally. Perhaps I should remain blind and never have to look on this body again.

"I'm glad you are all right." I told him. "But if this tale is to have any glory, we must all come out alive."

"I am worried for the witch as well." Zevran placed a hand on my shoulder. "Morrigan is in the best of hands."

"I know." I could smell his singed hair and flesh. "Wynne has an ointment for burns. You'd do well to use some."

"Right you are." Zevran handed me a canteen. "Drink something, Salem. It will do you good."

"Thank you." I let the water cool my abused throat and leaned back against the wall. I knew that, if I could see, the room would have been spinning. My muscles screamed as I tried to ease the tension from them.

I think, my eyes closed and nothing changed, I will rest...a little while.