Bear and Hawke go limp under the Sleep spell, leaving the bloody room oddly silent. The saved Inquisition agents (plus wounded chevalier) huddle just outside and Narcisse-

Covered in blood, eyes locked to the prone figure of the Butcher, shudders. Oddly silent and somber for the first time since their arrival, likely sober for the first time in years, he jerks a little at Anders' approach. Tilts into the embrace, pushing his face into his shoulders as the trembling settles in. "I couldn't-"

Let her kill you. Couldn't say anything. Couldn't do anything to stop it.