A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Still Here

18 Justinian, 9:42

There was a ringing in her ears, and she was surrounded by darkness, held down by something heavy. Antonia tried to stir, but it was hard to move. Dimly over the ringing, she could hear a familiar voice bellowing, "Boss! Boss!"

The Iron Bull. She smiled to herself. Dorian would be pleased—the Iron Bull had made it. But had Dorian? Or Varric? What of Morrigan, crashing from the sky as a dragon and landing as a woman?

And then it occurred to her—she could hear the Iron Bull's voice, she could feel the pain of whatever lay on top of her ... she had made it. She lived. Cullen. Her lips formed the word, although her throat was too dry and raw from the screaming of the combat to speak out loud. She cleared her throat, trying to make sound come out. "Bull," she croaked. "Bull!"

"Boss!" His voice was delighted, and right above her, and shortly she felt the weight above her shift and then disappear entirely.

"Don't move her," Dorian's voice said sharply. "Antonia, lie still. If there's a spine injury ..." He was bending over her now, his hands on her back as he listened with his magic. He was a fairly limited healer, but better than nothing. "Varric, go find Solas and Vivienne. I'll need them. Bull, go check on Morrigan."

"Got it."

"On my way, Sparkler."

"You're all alive." Antonia couldn't believe it. Corypheus was dead, and her boys were safe. Somehow she had gotten them all through; or they had gotten her through; or something of both.

"Yes, we are. And as soon as we can, we're going to get you up and take you home."

"How is Morrigan?" Antonia couldn't help thinking of the mage's son. Who would take care of him if she died?

"I'm going to look at her next, or send one of the others as soon as I see them."

Varric came hurrying back, with Vivienne, and Dorian directed her to Morrigan. "No sign of Chuckles, though," Varric said. "The Iron Lady says she hasn't seen him since early on in the battle."

Antonia raised an eyebrow. "That's strange."

"I thought so." He was silent for a moment, his fingers moving gently over her back. "All right, my dear," he said at length, "I don't feel anything particularly wrong here. Try moving, just a little, and tell me what hurts."

Antonia shifted, feeling a sharp pain in her right shoulder. Dorian put his hands there, pouring healing magic in, and she could almost feel the torn muscles knitting themselves back together. Slowly between them they managed to get her on her feet, more or less standing. Only then did she think to look at her hand ... and when she did, she nearly wept.

It was still there. The mark still glowed in her hand. Antonia clenched her teeth against the nausea that rose in her throat.

"What is it?" Dorian asked anxiously. "Another injury?"

"No." She shook her head, showing him the Anchor. "It's still here. I wanted—I wanted it off. Can you ... can you take it off, Dorian?"

He took her hand in his, looking the Anchor over carefully, and shook his head. "No. I can't. I'm sorry."

At that, she did cry. Dorian and Varric looked at each other helplessly. Then the Iron Bull came striding over, his big arms enfolding her and holding her against him. He smelled like blood and the odd smokiness of Qunari sweat, but it was comforting nonetheless. "Let Uncle Bull take this one," he said to the others, and they took a few steps away, toward where Vivienne knelt next to Morrigan. The Iron Bull gently tipped Antonia's head up towards him. "Hey, boss, look at me."

"What?"

"So you have a big green glowing thing in your hand. I've got horns, in case you haven't noticed; Dorian's got magic that I think sometimes he'd like to put aside for a few minutes. Varric's got Bianca. We all have our challenges."

"Yes. Yes, I know that, but—" She thought of having that thing inside her for the rest of her life, and felt almost panicked.

The Iron Bull picked up her hand, holding it in front of her. "You saved the world with this today. And last year. And you might again; you never know. You built the Inquisition because of it. You met Cullen because of it. Not to mention me." He grinned. "The way I see it, this is your call—you can rage against this mark and make yourself miserable over it, or you can appreciate all the good it's brought you, and all the good things it's let you do."

"I take it you think I should do the second."

"That's usually the kind of person you are."

Vivienne appeared next to them at that point. "Inquisitor, darling, I think you should know the mage will live. She has taken over her own healing, and says she will meet us back at Skyhold."

"Oh, good." Antonia clenched her hand into a fist. "Thanks, Bull. I'll ... give it some thought."

"Do that."

She moved with her people down to the base of the ruined stone stairs where the rest of the team waited. Cassandra was smiling as broadly as Antonia had ever seen her, Sera practically vibrating with excitement. Cole's gentle smile shone warmly on her, and Blackwall nodded slowly, less elated but equally pleased.

One of Leliana's people hurried over with a bird perched on his arm. "Inquisitor—we're sending a message to Skyhold. What do you want me to say?"

Cullen! His face was clear in her mind, and she imagined the happiness in it when he knew she was alive. "Let me write it, please." She took the tiny piece of paper and carefully wrote her message.

She looked up at the others. "Someone find the horses, and let's go home."

They cheered.