Salem

I wish I had gone deaf as well. I thought, sitting closer to the fire, trying to scorch the tears away. Then I could not hear every step as she walks away from me. I sighed and lay back down on the ground, hating the black before my eyes, loathing the empty ache of my heart...knowing that I was the cause of both.

"Leliana," I whispered, "please forgive me. I failed us both. Do not think of me again, if it sets your heart at ease. Please, find a way to hate me."

I flexed the fingers of my charred hand, expecting the pain, delighting in it. It would keep me awake. I knew if I slept I would dream of Leliana...and wake without her. The dreams were torment enough when I could not see her, but now that she was gone...tears fell, silent.

I had never known what it was to feel completely numb inside. I had nearly reached that point after Arl Howe sacked Highever and destroyed my family, but the promise of revenge had kept me sane, kept me fighting, kept me alive. And then, after Ishal, at Lothering, when I thought everything had truly been obliterated and all hope was lost, she had come into my life.

Leliana, you gave me reason to keep living. You kept me grounded in this world, focused on my mission. In Denerim, I said I did not know if I could go on without you. It was true. But now...I said when this was over, you would not see me again. I said that because...because I do not think I will survive. With the Archdemon dead, I have nothing to return to. Please, live, my love. For both of us.

Someone stirred beside me. "Salem?" Wynne asked.

Inwardly, I groaned. While kind and well-meaning, the senior enchanter was the last person I wished to speak to.

"Yes."

"How long has it been?" she asked. I heard her rifling through her pack.

"Oghren says at least a half a day." I answered, uncertain of the time.

It had all smeared to a blur...everything. Leliana was gone. Time meant nothing. Life meant nothing.

"Has Morrigan woken?" Wynne entered into her healer's mindset, looking after the injured. The distraction was pleasant.

"Not that I am aware of." I replied. "Oghren said she hasn't stirred."

"A mercy that." Wynne's voice carried sympathy. "My reserves have rebuilt; I am more than capable of healing the both of you, within reason."

"See to the witch first." I told her. "Her injuries were far more severe."

"Ah, but she is not awake." Wynne countered. Apparently her rest had restored her chipper mindset. "It is unwise to perform healing spells on a mage who might still be in the Fade. I will not imperil her position."

"Very well then." I allowed Wynne to come closer and examine my injuries.

She lifted what was left of my shirt, unwrapped the bandaging, and assessed the damage.

"Leliana is quite deft with a needle." she mused. "I suppose, in her line of work, she would find such skills a necessity. Bards work best and most often alone; they would need greater knowledge of healing than others."

Do not say her name. I begged, though I did not voice the words. It is already pounding in my head over and over like a fucking death knell. Reminding me of all that I have lost.

"As you say."

"Are you well, Salem?" Wynne asked. I imagined her eyelids narrowing as her tone became suspicious.

"Feeling my injuries is all." I lied. "Whoever know that dragon's blood could eat through steel and melt it to flesh."

"Indeed." Wynne agreed. "They were thought long eradicated until recently. They were relegated to legends and tales, knowledge of their truths lost."

Tales like the ones Leliana would tell me when I woke from nightmares and could no longer sleep. Stories of love lasting through tragedy and hardship. But the legends never sing of love's despair; the heroes are paragons of strength, leaving every battle victorious and unbloodied. Their lovers never have to stitch their wounds and pray for them to return to consciousness. Will you write a song for me, my love? Will you sing tales of a hideously scarred Grey Warden? No, for who would listen? No one desires a story of love ended in the midst of tragedy.

"Where is the bard?" Wynne asked, and my heart cracked. "I could use her aid, given your aversion to healing magic."

I sighed. I had known there would be no way to keep this secret, but I still wished it to be. I had to be strong for them, for all of them. I could not afford weakness. I did not have the luxury of time to grieve.

"She left, Wynne."

"When will she return?" the healer asked, thinking her on some errand.

"She will not."

"Surely you jest." Wynne pressed, and my head began to ache.

"No." I could not bear the sound of my own voice, so flat, so bereft of emotion. "She's gone, Wynne."

"Salem...what happened?" her voice was full of shock, regret, and pain. Wynne cared deeply for Leliana; become the mother that my bard had lost too soon.

"We fell apart." I answered, barely feeling it as Wynne took my charred hand in her own. "It became too much for her...it was tearing her to pieces. I could not ask her to stay, or force her to...so I asked if she wished to leave."

"So sudden?" Wynne asked, full of sympathy and pity that I did not want to hear.

"In truth, I am surprised it did not happen sooner." I admitted.

"Denerim changed things." Wynne agreed, wisely avoiding inquiries about my mental state. "I could sense it, but I thought surely...surely the two of you..."

"Love was not enough, Wynne." against my will, tears fell from my eyes. "Everything, every tale, every story, every legend is a lie. I suppose you can only force another through so many layers of hell until they shatter."

"What of you, Salem?" Wynne asked. "What do you intend to do?"

"Finish this." I muttered, voice dark. "Find the damn, Urn, use it to heal Arl Eamon, call the Landsmeet, rally the troops and kill the fucking archdemon."

"And after that?" Wynne rubbed more of her salve into my skin, soothing the burn.

"Hopefully, I will be dead." I saw no reason to hide my intentions from her. "I have no plans of surviving."

"Fool." Wynne's voice became cold, the chastising schoolmistress. "After all of this, you are just going to throw your life away?"

I sat up, furious. "Throw what away?" I asked. "This illustrious life that will not last for more than thirty years? Thirty years at best, Wynne! My blood is tainted! I knew this; Leliana knew this! We attempted, we loved...we lost the fight."

"You are the one that let her go." Wynne reminded me.

"I will not put chains on anyone, Wynne." I spoke between my teeth, reining in my anger and my grief, shoving it down into the dark part of my soul. "All you have been more than welcome to depart this endeavor at any time. Leliana simply availed herself of that freedom."

Wynne's hand rested on my shoulder. "And broke your heart."

"What heart?" I scoffed. "I have one no longer. She carries it with her. Fortunately, I have no need of such things anymore. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. That is all that matters now."

"Salem, you do not mean that." Wynne gave me a chance to retract my statement.

"Just finish your magic work and leave me be." I growled. I had spoken of it, and I no longer had anything to say.

Wynne took my hand in hers and I knew this healing would be unpleasant. The thought made me smile. I gritted my teeth, hoping that the pain would be enough to spiral me into nightmares, surely sweeter than this reality.