Chapter 72: Protective Instincts

When I woke, I was in a nightgown, in a bed, but it wasn't my bed. I lifted my head to look around; Alistair was dozing in a chair on one side of the bed, Teagan, Eamon, and Theron were seated on chairs facing each other on the other side, and Aedan, Zev, Tomas, and Wynne huddled together by a large hearth. Aedan? When did he get back? How long have I been out? My head and stomach seemed to have sorted themselves out, but my leg ached abominably.

As my head cleared, I realised I was actually in Eamon's room. In his bed. Isolde's bed. Maybe it was the only room big enough for everyone to fit, or something, but it was seriously creepy. He'd been comatose in this exact spot a few weeks prior. I tried to stifle the disgusted grunt that burst forth ... unsuccessfully. It wasn't loud, but it was enough to wake Alistair; he leapt off the chair, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, calling out to Wynne as he moved.

Alistair took my hand just as everyone arrived around the large bed, and I was suddenly the centre of attention for eight people. I knew I probably had been for quite some time, but it didn't count – I'd been unconscious. Now it was embarrassing, and a bit intimidating.

"Um, hi."

Alistair kissed the back of my hand, and Aedan frowned. When I didn't pull away, he huffed and seemed to decide to ignore it, for now.

"Sierra ... you scared the pants off everyone today. What were you thinking?" Aedan scowled at me.

I laughed. "It's good to see you too, brother. I feel terrible, thanks, why do you ask?"

He flushed, irritation flashing across his features. I sighed. "I thought I was sparring with Sten. I thought I should try to learn how to fight a little better before I end up stuck in the Deep Roads without the ability to defend myself. I failed to take into account that Sten probably doubles my weight. No one mentioned that those throws don't work on someone so much larger than yourself..."

His jaw dropped. "You tried to throw Sten?" His voice went higher in pitch the closer to the end of the sentence, until he squeaked the last word.

"What, no one told you? I tried to throw him. He left me with an opening. I took it. It didn't end well."

"No one seemed exactly sure what had happened." He glared impartially around the room. "Why would you try to throw Sten?"

"I got cocky? I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't totally useless. It was stupid." I shrugged my shoulders, which wiggled the bed, jarring my leg and dragging a hiss of pain out of my mouth. Alistair squeezed my hand helplessly, as Wynne pushed Aedan and Tomas out of the way and ran one of her diagnostics over my supine form.

"I need some space, and Anders. And perhaps Dariel and Morrigan. And some Lyrium." She gave everyone except Alistair a look, and they all got the hint, scattering to find the other people she'd asked for and some Lyrium. A couple of minutes later, I saw Leli at the door, escorting Anders – she waved, and I smiled – and shortly after that, Morrigan, Dariel and Aedan showed up, each carrying an armful of slightly glowing, silvery-blue potion bottles.

"Is it really that bad?" My eyes were wide, and my heart started pounding. Three healers, another mage, and that much Lyrium? How screwed am I?

Wynne smiled reassuringly. "No dear. It's just your magical resistance. I set your leg earlier, and Dariel helped me heal it enough so you could be moved; now we need to finish it. You'll be as good as new, I promise."

I turned towards Anders. "Okay ... but is this going to be like that other time?" I could feel myself blushing. It had felt good, but I did not particularly want it happening again, especially not in front of Alistair. Or Aedan, for that matter.

"No, no. Limbs don't get that sort of ... response." He winked, and I blushed even harder. I felt Alistair's hand twitch; in retrospect, I wondered what watching Anders heal me had cost him, as I writhed and moaned. I wonder what not punching Anders at this moment is costing him.

Aedan looked confused, but before he could ask, Wynne started talking. "Alright, focus, please. Aedan, Alistair, if you insist on staying, be quiet. Anders, you will lead. Dariel, do what I do. Morrigan, you're back-up."

The elf and the human nodded, while the witch just sniffed dismissively, and I felt Anders' magic flare, followed by Wynne's, then after a few moments, by Dariel's. Wynne pulled the covers back, baring my leg; all I could see were bandages. And then my head was swimming again, as somehow the mages combined their power, and Anders directed it at me. I didn't know they could do that.

It didn't hurt, exactly, but it wasn't pleasant either. I could feel something – bones, I assumed – sliding underneath my skin, and crunching into place, then Wynne gasped and chugged a Lyrium potion. Morrigan twitched, but relaxed again when Wynne's expression eased. It kept going, and started to feel like someone was compressing my skin, then I felt it ease off somewhat. My skin began to itch, and I felt dizzy; Dariel reached out to grab a Lyrium potion. It went on and on. Anders started to sweat, his face became ashen, but he finally stopped casting before swaying on his feet.

When the world finally held still again, I had a bit of residual stiffness, but my pain was gone. I smiled up at the three healers, only to see Anders' eyes flutter; Aedan grabbed a chair and placed it behind him, guiding him to sit before he fell. Dariel looked at the tall blond man with an expression of awe; even Wynne looked impressed.

"Wynne?"

"Hmm? Oh, everything's fine, Sierra. Anders just depleted himself too much." She turned to the person in question. "Why didn't you take some Lyrium?"

"Didn't need it." His voice was weak, but audible.

Wynne tsk'd, but cast a quick rejuvenation spell; Anders almost immediately perked up. He stood, murmuring thanks, and with a smile and a wave, left the room with Morrigan, talking animatedly. I heard something about Chantry fools and towers, and figured they were probably bonding over their mutual disdain for the Circle, the templars, and the Chantry in general. Dariel followed, asking questions about mana reserves and spell control. Wynne watched them go with an exasperated look and a shake of her head.

"That boy is going to hurt himself one day doing that."

"What did he do, Wynne?" Aedan asked.

"He has one of the deepest mana pools I've ever seen, and a very powerful spirit. He is, easily, the most talented healer outside of the Tevinter Imperium, and maybe even within it. But he thinks he will never run out of mana, never go too far. He's reckless. It should have taken twice as much Lyrium, at least, for what we just did, if we'd had anyone other than him leading that. He made up the difference. But he wouldn't have been able to heal a paper cut after."

"What would happen if someone completely ran out?"

"To be honest, I don't know. Most of us aren't able to go that far. There's a self-defense mechanism in there that prevents it. Anders ... I don't know how, but he's overcome it, and not only in life-or-death situations. It makes me wonder what was done to him, either in the tower, or perhaps after being captured at some point. He hates the tower so much ... there had to be something."

We fell silent in contemplation of that, and I knew that at least the four of us would be watching him a little more closely for a while.

Wynne finally shrugged and turned to me. "As for you, young lady..."

I blushed and ducked my head. "I know, I know, no more trying to throw Sten."

Aedan jumped up, agitated. "No more sparring at all!"

I rolled my eyes, but Alistair cut in. "You'd really leave her defenseless when we're heading into the Deep Roads? Besides, that isn't our choice to make, Aedan. It's theirs." He pointed at me and then Wynne in succession.

Wynne cleared her throat, interrupting the explosion I could see coming. "Yes, well. Definitely no sparring for a week. I want to make sure that knee is solid before you go testing it again."

"But it will be okay after that?"

"Yes, dear. It's probably better than it was before."

"So I can walk? Like, now?"

She nodded, and I pushed aside the blankets and sprang to my feet. It didn't hurt, and I almost cried with relief. I turned and wrapped the elderly healer in a hug, and then kissed her cheek. "You're the best, Wynne."

"You should thank Anders and Dariel. I just provided a bit of power. Anders did the real work."

"I'll thank him when I see him," I promised. "Both of them."

Aedan was standing there, practically vibrating; I turned and hugged him as well. "I'm okay. It's okay."

"Sierra ... I can't even ... We got back in the middle of the commotion. You weren't conscious, you were barely breathing. There was a pool of blood under you, and you wouldn't wake up. You can't tell me that's okay."

Wynne cut in. "That's just her reaction to the healing, Aedan. She was conscious before that."

"I admit it wasn't pleasant, but I need to learn, Aedan. This world isn't like where I grew up. I thought I could just coast through, rely on you and everyone to take care of me, but that's not only not fair, it's stupid. At some point I'm going to be alone, even if by accident, and I need to know how to handle myself."

I felt him shudder, but finally his arms came around me. He looked over my shoulder at Wynne and Alistair. "Can I talk to my sister alone for a moment?"

They shuffled out of the room, and I pulled back. "You're not going to convince me to stop training, you know."

He sighed. "I know. But I wanted to talk to you about something else."