"So," Alistair sighed, dropping Myra back into Reiss' arms, "I guess this means I'd better get a sponge."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Choice
Lana tried to focus on her books -- she had to do this -- but her eyes kept darting up to Alistair on his hands and knees scrubbing away darkspawn blood. The King of Ferelden was doing it to protect his daughter, who should be back at home playing with her toys and not at risk to catch the blight or worse. Reiss took Myra off to a side room for a nap, and because they couldn't trust their kids anywhere near the dead bodies. Not until it was all cleaned up.
She was exhausted, they all were, but Lana spent everything inside of her on that fight. The magic she could tap into was thedas shattering, but her body grew weaker with every passing day. She never said it, but she wondered how long it would be until she couldn't get out of bed period. Healing magic could only work so far, and today she was at her limits, but they needed her. Alistair and Myra to find a cure. Gavin and Cullen so they could go home. Kieran so he could live.
"We need to talk about this."
"Maker's sake," Lana slammed the book shut and buried the palms of her hands into her eyes. She knew it was coming, but she hoped Cullen would hold off for at least a few hours. They'd barely started clean up.
"No," he gripped onto her wrist, not hard, but the touch was enough to cause Lana to sit up fast and glare at him, "No tossing me away. No acting as if I can't understand because it's a mage matter or a warden issue. Take a look out there, Lana. Look at what just happened."
Cullen jerked his hand out at the massacre and she tried to follow, but she was caught by the baby in his arms. Secure with his father back to hold him, Gavin was happily staring in wonder at the feathers and papers across Lana's desk. She'd often tickle him with quills at home, her little boy giggling like mad and wanting to chew on them.
"Look!" Cullen shouted, shaking her from her son.
"I know," Lana sobbed. "I blighted well know what darkspawn are, what they do, what they're capable of, and what this means. Yes, better than you."
"We cannot stay here," he said, his eyes darting down to the curly head of his son. The boy he'd worked so hard to come to love. Now that Gavin was locked in that cautious heart, Cullen was even more of a lion about his cub than he'd ever been before. "Our son is at risk..."
"What would you have of me?" Lana shrieked. "Please, tell me what to do. I am so Maker damn tired of all the cursed decisions landing on me. You were a Commander, so fine, command me. Tell me what spell to cast, what incantation to divine to make everything better because I'm damn well listening!" Tears burned in her eyes, and it felt as if her weary flesh was falling off in chunks. Exhausted and broken, the raw nub of Lana's soul was left exposed. She had barely slept down here between fear of failure and continual worry. With every mouth breathing down her neck for the past week praying for a cure to come springing out of her ass, it was finally time for her to snap.
Cullen winced a moment at the tears, but he didn't waver from his crusade. He never did. "We leave," he stated as if it was so simple.
"Then Myra dies," Lana sniffled. She didn't want to cry, not in front of her baby and, Maker's sake, certainly not in front of Morrigan. The woman was sitting beside Kieran doing her best to not look over at the fight, not that anyone couldn't hear it.
Cullen glanced over at the witch a moment before whispering in code, "Not necessarily."
"Then Kieran dies. No matter what I do, what choice you put to me, someone's child dies! How can I...? You cannot ask that of me. Blessed Andraste, I couldn't kill a child that was possessed. And now...? Now you want me to callously choose between, no, no, I can't. I..."
"Lana," he grabbed onto her hands, trying to get her to look at him, "Gavin could have died."
She stopped crying, her eyes darting over to her boy. He looked untouched, as if the greatest horrors against the Maker in thedas couldn't hurt him. How she wished that were true.
Cullen gasped and wrapped an arm around to tug her to him, "You could have died. I can't handle this anymore. Please, just...do this for me. I'm asking you, as your husband, as the father of your son, as the man who loves you so much it pisses me off sometimes, let us leave."
The exhaustion was killing him, little by little. The fear and hatred of mages he thought he'd walked back kept seeping back in. She'd catch it on occasion; Cullen cursing magic in general, clearly aiming it at Morrigan as if none of it would leap back onto his wife. Being here was tearing him apart, the threats to his son -- the one person in thedas he should most protect -- never ending. Tearing them all apart. Alistair had his other kids, the kingdom, Reiss her work. Myra was no better off than Gavin in this dark hole surrounded by death.
Sucking in a breath, Lana tipped her head down, "You're right."
Shocked, Cullen staggered back a moment as if he'd been preparing another speech. "I am...? You mean it, you'll--."
"You don't belong here," Lana tried to drain the emotion in her body, she had to be strong. "You and Gavin should leave."
"What?" Cullen gasped as if she slapped him, "Lana, no, that's not what I..."
She could see it, the only logical path left to her. Morrigan wasn't going to budge, but she needed time. Time none of them could afford to waste down here, none of them but her. "Go home, be safe, check on our patients."
"You can't be serious," he continued, trying to get her to look at him.
"If you stay here, someone will die. I'll pledge myself to Morrigan. If she releases Myra and lets you all go, then I will remain caring for Kieran until a cure is found. As long as it takes," she turned in her seat to stare over at the witch. Morrigan didn't look up, but she knew she heard her promise. It was the best the woman was likely to get after this last disaster.
"No," Cullen shouted, "no, I forbid it."
She curled her hands into fists, wanting to shout that she wasn't one of his underlings he could order around. But getting angry wouldn't help, someone had to have a cool head about this. Reaching out, Lana tried to dart her fingers over his face, "Cullen..."
"Don't Cullen me," he snarled. "This is your son! You would...you cannot seriously be thinking of leaving me alone for a year! Or even longer. Maker knows if it's even possible for you to save that boy. You could be lost to us for, there's no promising you'd even return!"
"Gavin is," Lana swallowed, almost being bowled over by the thought she about to speak, "he is very young. It is unlikely that he will remember me."
"Can you hear yourself?!" he screamed, his eyes flaring to a terrifying amber glare.
"Please, this is--."
"You would give up your family, give up on me, on our boy for what? To save a witch's son because...because you promised to? Why?"
"Because I would be dead if it weren't for him!" Lana screamed, hopping up to her feet. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried out every pang in her heart, "I've been living on borrowed time for half of my life. If it weren't for Kieran, for Morrigan, I'd be dead, ashes on the wind. You'd never have known me, not like this, not have loved me, married me. We wouldn't have a child together. Dead!"
Cullen was stunned by her response, his eyes widening as she hammered home the duty she felt to the young man. Every breath Lana took, every heartbeat was extra to what she'd been granted, a gift. One she never forgot. "And you'd..." he snarled, snapping back from her outburst and turning to Morrigan, "Witch!"
Maker's sake, no. Lana tried to reach over to stop him, but Cullen was marching towards Morrigan about to make it all worse. "You act as if she is your friend. Lana Amell, the Warden as you keep calling her. She's it, isn't she? There's no one else in all of thedas who can put up with you vitriol, or your acidic tongue, but her. And you...you'd tear her away from her son. From her child when he needs her most of all. What kind of mother are you?"
Morrigan lifted her head but didn't turn to him. For a brief flicker her yellow eyes landed on Lana, but she didn't look up. Her heart was crumbling in
her chest while her husband tried to argue against the void to save it.
"Is that your idea of love? Of friendship? Look at what I'm saying, you were the one to kill your son anyway. What could you possibly care if you destroy another family? It's not you or yours. That's all that matters to you."
Hissing, Morrigan launched up to her legs and sneered, "You do not know me, Templar, and shall never claim the right."
Lana feared she'd have to keep them off each other, but Morrigan walked away. She didn't scamper, her spine straight as a board, but for a moment she glanced back at Lana and the baby in Cullen's arms.
Sucking in a breath, Lana dipped her head down to face the desk, "There is no other answer."
"No," Cullen lashed a hand forward, grabbing onto her arm, "Lana, you can't just..."
Slowly she sat back in the chair and yanked out a quill. In a voice as cold as the frostback air, she said, "I've made my choice. Leave me to it, please."
"Maker's sake," he snarled at her stubbornness but turned to do as she asked. Hugging Gavin tighter to his chest, Cullen left to find a room to sit and no doubt curse her name in. As her family vanished from sight, Lana risked a glance up at her little boy, his chubby hands waving back at his mother. That may be the last time she ever saw him again.
Shaking it off, she tried to focus on the book below her, but drops of rain kept getting in the way.
* * *
Getting as far from the darkspawn bodies as she could, Reiss stumbled into what had been her and Alistair's sleeping quarters. She wanted to flop face first onto the bed and scream into it for a few hours, but her baby had other pressing needs. Patting Myra's straining diaper, Reiss sighed.
"I can't blame you for craping your pants after that, but..." Placing Myra down on her back and removing the filthy diaper, she began to reach for a fresh one, when her baby tried to scoot along the bed. It'd happen often during changes, Myra needing something to keep herself entertained with and found scooting her bare bottom along the table fascinating. But this time she managed to really dig her heels in and was moving fast towards the edge of the bed.
"Hey!" Reiss dashed forward quickly, a hand cupping under her little daredevil's head to keep her from falling off. Big green eyes darted up at her mother and she cracked into a giggle at the fun game. "Maker's blighted sake, do you have to act so much like your father?"
Myra found that even funnier, both hands flailing at her mum's hilarious joke. She was unperturbed, as if the past few hours with darkspawn attacks were little more than a fun change of pace. So close, she came so damn close to... Reiss paused in dragging her butt naked baby back to the center of the bed.
Falling to a knee, Reiss stared down at Myra but her mind tripped back to when she was all of fourteen watching in terror as her mother was slashed apart by hurlocks. She'd clung tight to her sister Atisha, both crying huge tears and frozen in place at the horrors they wouldn't turn away from. It was impossible; their mother had always been there, always been the one to swab up injuries, or set the table. Been the one to plait their hair and darn ripped clothes. Their whole lives she was there, and then she wasn't.
That could have been her for Myra, it nearly was. Shuddering in a breath, Reiss dipped her forehead to her baby. The one she never should have been able to create, their little surprise. For the back end of her childhood she had to mother her sister and brother. No, mother and father them both as they faced the life of being orphans. Every day she had to put their needs above her own, their lives. It trained Reiss to take risks that no sane person would because...because if she failed, who would care for them?
Tears dripped down her cheeks, each drop for her mother, her father, the life she could have led if they'd lived, and that fear inside of what would happen if Reiss ever let go. Died. Dead. She created this baby, brought her into this world, and at the first sign of trouble was willing to sacrifice herself to save her. What then? Sure, she lives, but without you. Myra would be motherless, same as her baby's mother.
Tiny hands patted against Reiss' cheeks, trying to splash in her tears the way one would rain puddles. Myra cooed, wiggling again off the bed. "Hey," she gripped onto her always moving baby with one hand and dried off her tears with the other. "Stay put. I'll get you a fresh nappy so you're not cold. But you best hold still."
She rose to her legs, Myra seeming happy to comply as she gnawed away on her hands. Turning to the table, Reiss lifted up a diaper, when sure enough she heard the focused grunting of a baby at work. Whipping her head back she spotted Myra wiggling a bit, but at her mother's attention the baby froze. At barely seven months old, she gave an 'I wasn't up to nothing' look and resumed chewing away at her fingers.
"What am I going to do with you?" Reiss chuckled, quickly diapering her little girl. In the middle of pinning it in place, she felt a presence enter the room behind her. Assuming it was Alistair, she said, "Your little girl's already learned how to play innocent angel when I'm looking and total demon when I'm not."
Leaving Myra on the bed, Reiss turned to him, "I assume that's all..." Her smile drained at the witch standing in their doorway. There was no cocky grin nor smirk to her cruel face. She was staring down at Myra as if trying to put the baby under some kind of trance.
"What do you want?" Reiss shot out, her voice ice cold. Morrigan blinked a moment, Reiss seeming to shake her from her own stupor. "Are you hoping I'll say thank you for saving my life? Because you'll be waiting a damn long time."
"I am..." the witch paused, looking as if she was torn between heading out the door or coming inside. "You were willing to sacrifice yourself for your child."
"Yeah," she said. The words should shore up her spine, but Reiss felt more like a failure for voicing them aloud. She would have both saved and doomed her baby in one go. Maybe not physically, but... "Why are you here, Morrigan?"
The woman stared down at Myra, perhaps for the first time since stealing her baby. Every other time she'd look through the infant as if she was little more than a crate of elfroot. But now her eyes trailed down that little nose, her chubby cheeks, and that barely there point to the ears. Morrigan glanced over at Reiss and sorrow filled her eyes.
Oh shit! Reiss tasted the magic rising in the air, sending her brain into a panic. She began to reach for a dagger left on the counter, but her entire body froze as that damn witch cast her spell quickly. No, not again!
"I am sorry," Morrigan whispered, the witch quickly stepping over towards her baby.
No! No! No! Reiss strained in her prison, her eyes forced to watch as Morrigan hoisted up Myra in her arms. Unaware of anything bad happening, Myra began to giggle. She loved people, too much. She was too trusting, damn it!
Help, please! Alistair...where are you?
She tried to calm her heartbeat, to find that quiet place in her brain that Cullen attempted to teach her about. He made it look so easy, but every time Reiss almost touched it, her mind flared away as if it burned her. Why wasn't he here protecting her child? That's what templars did, protected the innocent from evil mages! Why did she walk away from them all?
Morrigan tucked a hand under Myra's bottom, holding her the way any mother would a child she loved. With her hands free, Myra reached to tug upon the necklace dangling over Morrigan's chest. She was completely at the witch's mercy.
Mercy, ha! The woman was incapable of such a feat.
Not even pausing at the child's innocence, a bright light began to rise from the witch's hands enveloping her baby. No, Maker, no! Straining to reach Myra, to bat her free, Reiss tugged on every muscle inside of her. The magic caused her baby to stop playing with the necklace, her smile flipping down into a frown.
Please, blessed Andraste! Don't make me watch my baby die right in front of me!
She couldn't blink, couldn't move, only stare in horror as the white light fully enveloped Myra. Despair took hold, Reiss' mind screaming in a blind rage as she impotently sat witness to this unholy terror. No! You've fought off so much worse that threa
tened your child, your family, the people you love. You can stop this!
The rage washed over her, percolating to a crescendo when Myra's little mouth erupted with a single sob. Screaming, Reiss burst out of the spell. Her hand snatched up the dagger and, snaking an arm around Morrigan, drew the blade right to her traitorous throat. "I'm going to kill you," Reiss hissed, needing her to feel the same fear, the same hatred that was burning inside of her reflected in her enemy. Quiver in terror before the end, you heartless bitch.
Instantly, the magic faded, the bright light drawing away to reveal Myra's bright green eyes blinking up at her mother. She wasn't dead. She was smiling, and not dead. Oh, Maker! But... Reiss slicked the blade closer, the edge meeting against flesh. The witch didn't whimper in pain or fear, but stood stock still.
"What did you do? What did you do to my baby? We have a deal!"
She felt Morrigan soften in her arms, the rigid body all but melting from her grip. Oh shit, was she trying to transform away? Would she steal Myra again? In a voice as desolate as a desert at night, the witch whispered, "Please, kill me."
"What?" Reiss shook her head to clear it, the rage buzzing like summer flies in her ears.
Tears reverberated in Morrigan's words, her voice choked in sobs as she said, "I have doomed my son to death. My own would be a welcoming embrace."
Reiss darted back to Myra, the urge to scoop her baby away all but overpowering her need to keep a grip on the witch. She should be strong, cut this woman down, but...she wanted it? What sick game was she playing now? The others had to be told, the Hero that...something was different. The witch cast a spell to-to do whatever she did.
Rolling the dagger down in her fist, Reiss yanked her baby out of Morrigan's hands. The witch didn't put up a fight, but Myra did, her child wanting to keep playing with the funny necklace. Maker. A calm washed against her rising terror as the weight of her child heaved upon her arms. She was here. She was alive. But was she safe? With a sneer, Reiss rolled the dagger back and aimed the blade at Morrigan.
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