Chapter Text
After taking her leave of Riordan, Elissa wandered Redcliffe’s lofty halls restless as an undead, her own footsteps quiet as mice as she suppressed a rising river of tears. Eamon’s armoury offered a hiding place from any patrolling guard, and her knees gave out within when she could hold back no longer.
She wept. Riordan was in no state to battle a horde, nor a dragon. Anyone could discern that. Perhaps she would see Lord and Lady Cousland soon, and her brother Fergus, her nephew Oren, and a crowd of familiar faces from her childhood home… unless Wardens who died slaying Archdemons never made it to the Maker. What happens to someone whose soul dies? Would she never see Alistair again, either, even in death? She wept harder then, pounding bare palms against the stone wall in rage. Then, she quieted in her tears, wishing for a kind word of encouragement from her mother or father. Pup, she imagined Bryce’s stern-yet-gentle voice calling from a lifetime ago.
A soft yet heavy hand touched her back where she crouched. “I’m here,” Alistair’s kind voice soothed. “I’m here.”
She looked up at him through the dimness of the vault. “I can’t do it. I can’t let you go,” she confessed, trembling and throwing her arms around him. “Maker... I should’ve died a year ago. I’d rather be dead than to lose you,” she confessed bitterly.
“I love you… more than I can possibly say,” he told her slowly, hanging on each word, looking intently into her eyes as if she might forget. “I wanted… so much more. I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted.
“You wouldn’t! I know you… You’d never leave me,” she whispered… lying… before devouring his mouth in a desperate kiss. For a stolen moment, they heard only the sound of their own lips.
“What would you give, Warden, to save Alistair’s life? He will not allow you to sacrifice your own for his, as foolish as that would be,” a voice as dreadful as a carrion vulture came from a blackened doorway, her intrusion forcing their embrace to abruptly end. The shape of the witch came into view, her feathered pauldrons black and looming against flickers of a dying torch.
“What do you want?” Elissa hissed, regretfully pulling away from the refuge of Alistair’s arms. The Witch of the Wilds approached.
“I want this Blight to end, Warden, but it does not have to end the way you fear. I know what Riordan has told you.”
“There’s no running from this,” Elissa shook her head, glaring at Morrigan through the darkened room.
“No, there isn’t, and we wouldn’t run even if we had that choice,” Alistair affirmed.
“You do have a choice. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be either of you... but I have come to tell you this does not need to be,” Morrigan’s low voice purred.
Elissa paused at Morrigan’s strange game. “You are mistaken,” Elissa answered.
“'Tis you who are mistaken, my friend,” Morrigan shot back.
“No. It will come back if any other strikes the killing blow,” Alistair attested.
“And that Grey Warden would die, but there is... a way to ensure that Warden's survival."
“Why do you say that?” Elissa asked for clarity, not cryptic prattle.
“I have a way out. ‘Tis a way out for both of you, for death would claim the Warden who delivers the killing blow, but there is a way… to fool even a God,” Morrigan explained.
“Somehow, I suppose Flemeth was involved,” Alistair sneered with an air of sarcasm at Elissa.
An ominous grin pulled at the edges of Morrigan’s mouth. “Indeed, she was. ‘Twas why she saved you both from the tower. ‘Twas the reason she sent me with you in the Wilds,” Morrigan explained, seemingly forthcoming.
“Then… she wanted something more than stopping the Blight,” Elissa deduced.
“‘Tis the rarest of opportunities, Warden,” Morrigan alluded. “I intend to gain what Mother sought. You and Alistair shall keep your lives. ‘Tis a fair trade,” she gestured, fingernails pointed and cruel.
Alistair shifted uncomfortably. “I know I’m going to regret asking this… but what is it that Flemeth 'sought'?” he asked.
“Something the Wardens would destroy without thought,” Morrigan answered.
“And what is that?” Elissa asked.
Morrigan glanced at the empty doorway, then walked slowly to the far end of the armory, articulating her words with precision. “Something they fear. When first I observed you in the Wilds, I saw a woman who did not frighten as the men around her did. Has this changed? Are you frightened now?” Morrigan asked without mercy.
“Of my death, no,” Elissa answered.
“But of Alistair’s, which you would do anything to prevent," Morrigan spoke.
Elissa hesitated to speak. She was ready for death, but if there was some way for both her and Alistair to survive… she could not abandon the slightest sliver of a chance. “You say there’s a way, Morrigan, but what sort of way? Through magic? Nothing comes without a price.”
“Perhaps, but it need not be so unbearable,” Morrigan answered.
Was it blood she wanted? Another kind of sacrifice? Elissa could not know the mind of a Witch of the Wilds. “What would you ask of us?” Elissa inquired.
“Lis!” Alistair whispered forcefully, disapproving.
“Alistair, if there is a way… I must try. Do you understand?” Elissa turned to him and pleaded.
“I’ve already told you I will do it,” Alistair answered. “I will kill the Archdemon. It is my duty.”
“I can't let you!” Elissa affirmed herself.
“Perhaps it is best if the King waits in his chambers while we speak,” Morrigan interrupted.
“No, I will not be sent away. Lis, I've never trusted her and never will,” Alistair argued.
“Alistair, I will find you within the hour. I promise,” Elissa reluctantly agreed with Morrigan.
Alistair looked sternly back at Elissa, feeling oddly like himself a year ago before he began standing up for himself. He then took two strong strides toward Morrigan and warned. “If you harm her, no swamp, wilds, or magic trickery will be enough to hide you from me,” he threatened. Then, he strode past Morrigan roughly and left the women to their scheming.
When she felt sure Alistair was gone, Morrigan looked to Elissa once more and spoke. “You must convince Alistair to lay with me tonight.”
“What?!” Elissa exclaimed.
“If there were any other suitable Warden, I would prefer him over your foolish lover, I assure you,” Morrigan explained. “If you were a man, Warden, I would prefer you.”
“What blighted reason do you want to sleep with a Warden for?” Elissa asked, her revulsion discernable. She long thought herself above jealousy, but she stirred angrily at the idea of her beloved Alistair with Morrigan.
“‘Tis the reason it will save you. If the Archdemon has something else to seek at the moment of death, rather than a Grey Warden or a darkspawn, it will. The Archdemon will be slain with no Grey Warden dying in the process.”
“And this is accomplished by fucking a Warden?” Elissa asked in disbelief.
“By the outcome of the act,” Morrigan corrected. “Its essence will seek something else. A child.”
Elissa’s eyes widened in horror. She needed a few moments to process the awful revelation. “Maker’s breath. A child.”
“‘Tis what Mother intended. ‘Tis power, an old power worth preserving. Make of that what you will,” Morrigan spoke.
“You mean the Archdemon, or whatever it was before? An Old God of the Imperium? Great plan,” Elissa shook her head, having picked up some of Alistair’s sarcasm.
“‘Tis the only thing that will save both your own life and Alistair’s. It will work. Alistair will agree, but only you can convince him,” Morrigan stated hard.
Maker, even to save their own lives, Elissa could not abide by Alistair with any other woman, even for a night. “I can’t,” Elissa answered.
“You can. Take great care, Warden. Do not be a fool.”
“I can’t. You’ve never. Loved. Anyone. You have no concept of what you ask of me. You’ve no heart to betray,” Elissa stated.
“And what use is your love to you now?” Morrigan asked coldly.
“It will save Alistair,” Elissa answered.
“Then you are just as much a fool as he,” Morrigan seethed, turning away exasperated. “If Alistair spending a few moments with me is so unbearable… what of you, then? I know you still bleed.”
“What? You mean… if it were my child?” Elissa asked.
“Yes, your child. The only one you can still have,” Morrigan spoke.
Elissa paused, thinking of secret desires. Children were forbidden. Wardens didn’t have children. Those who did mothered or fathered them long before their Joining. She didn’t dare dream of children with Alistair. It was a wish too painful to be denied.
“My child…” Elissa mused, her hands drifting over her womb.
Morrigan approached, slowly reaching out until her hand touched Elissa’s wrist. “Lay with your lover, Warden. Save your own life and his. Conceive and carry.”
Elissa sobered for a moment. “But that wouldn’t be the end of it. You don’t ask this out of any friendship or fondness for me. You want the child.”
“I will not deny it,” Morrigan answered. “That is the price.”
Die tomorrow and let Alistair rule and eventually marry out of duty and produce heirs… or lay with him once more and save them both. Elissa’s heart weakened and gave her answer. “I will pay.”