NSFW again in one spot, should be the last time, though.

I decided the penultimate chapter wasn’t going to be long enough for a whole chapter and I was right so HERE YOU GOOOOOO everything except the epilogue! LOTS OF SOUNDTRACKS FOR THIS ONE:
Lizzev morning cuddles/vista/march: Vogel Im Käfig
Anora-Liz speech/gate battle: Counter-Attack Mankind (awww yeahhhhh)
Archdemon battle: Doa (yeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh all right) (some typos in the subtitles though)

You know, the first battle, with the assault on Redcliffe… I totally missed that happens in the game? Anora was just like “so we’re going to Redcliffe now” and I was like “kay” but then the darkspawn started attacking Denerim? And I was like “HOW DID YOU MISS THAT” but well anyway I guess Bioware does what Bioware wants? Anyway, it does explain a lot and I’m a little disappointed that it wasn’t more clear in the game. OH WAIT IT DOES …Well that… is still disappointing. I just thought that attack was like a raid, not a feint capable of drawing out Ferelden’s entire forces. Ugh.

Not too sure about the Zevran POV bit; I need more practice thinking as him? I knew what things I wanted to happen in that part, I just wasn’t sure how to word it so it sounded like him. And it doesn’t sound like him that much. :/

I’ve been pretty distracted with watching HuskyStarcraft’s Bronze League Heroes series, it’s pretty great. : D (this is probably the unofficial start of the series? Also I haven’t been watching the series in any particular order) I don’t even play Starcraft! XD

Previous chapter: Landsmeet; next chapter: Aftermath

 

The Archdemon

 

Even though she rose early, Arl Eamon was up before her. He greeted her coolly as she ate breakfast; he was consulting maps and reports at the dining table.

“What are the darkspawn doing?” she asked.

Eamon sighed. “They have besieged most of the castles left standing in the Bannorn, but a large portion of the horde appears to be heading westwards in a major offensive. It is good we are leaving for Redcliffe today, or else we might not have been able to make it before our enemies reach it and besiege it. Will your company be ready?”

“Yes, ser,” she said. “Any word from our allies?”

“The Circle Tower mages have already arrived, naturally. A few units of dwarf warriors have arrived already, but the main bulk of their forces – and the elves, too, no doubt – are still several days away. Hopefully we all arrive at the same time, and before the darkspawn arrive. Queen Anora is taking half the garrison of Fort Drakon, I believe, so we should have enough to force our way to Redcliffe if the road becomes rough.”

She finished her meal and rose. “My people will be ready.”

 

Elra helped her finish getting dressed. “Be safe, my lady. I hear you are going to be besieged in Redcliffe.”

“You are staying here?”

“I don’t want to travel all that way.” Elra shivered. “All that mud, and so much danger – it’s not for me. I am not brave like you, my lady.”

“I… you think I am brave?”

“Oh, yes, my lady. You know how to fight, and you go out and fight. I couldn’t bear even to see a darkspawn, let alone try to kill one. But Gemmet and Firiel and I will be here when you return.”

“Thank you, Elra. I am looking forward to it.”

With that awkward farewell, they set out on the march. Queen Anora led, dressed now in full armour, full of energy and determination, and Elizabeth was made to march beside her as the appointed general of the allied army. Elizabeth didn’t mind. She needed to learn how to command an army, and she needed to learn now. The march gave her four days to listen to the older nobles and more experienced military leaders, and she did, a silent, stoic hanger-on. Teagan marched with her companionably, giving her as much advice as he could, though he did a lot of listening of his own as well.

She saw Zevran on the second day, and tried to call to him, but he disappeared among the Denerim soldiers before she could catch up to him.

When they reached Redcliffe, they found a camp on the cliff facing the castle. It seemed every Dalish elf in Ferelden had come, at least, and there were several hundred dwarves, though not as many as she had hoped. In the courtyard of the castle, the Circle mages and their templars were encamped. Waiting in the main hall with Arlessa Isolde were Keeper Lanaya, First Enchanter Irving, and Templar Knight-Commander Gregoire. Lanaya greeted Elizabeth warmly, and Elizabeth managed to smile at her – for the first time in days, it felt like. But she was glad to see her – glad to see all of them. She had wondered if they would really come, and especially since Arl Eamon had sent the summons on her behalf.

They had not been in the castle for more than a couple hours when a scout came with a warning; darkspawn had been seen massing to the east. Immediately, Eamon sent Teagan to bring the villagers to the castle’s shelter, and the elves and dwarves packed their camp and also withdrew to the castle to man the walls. The gate was shut, and the defenders made ready. The courtyard was cleared as much as possible, the villagers sent down to the cellars, and while the dwarves crowded the courtyard with their axes and maces and swords, the elf archers and Circle mages took the walls. Redcliffe soldiers were at their places in the towers, and the templars were with them. There wasn’t even room for all the soldiers to fight at once. “That may change soon enough,” Teagan assured her grimly.

The sky grew dark as the darkspawn approached; the sun was setting, but smoke from distant fires was spreading across the sky, blotting out the colours of the sunset. As night fell, they could see fires springing up on the cliff opposite the castle, where the camp had been. Companies of hurlocks and genlocks swarmed towards the castle, and some of them broke away to torch the village. But as the darkspawn charged across the bridge to the gate, the defenders let loose their first salvo of magic and arrows, so fierce that the ancient stone bridge quivered with their violence. The mages were a little more careful after that, but the darkspawn would find it difficult to even reach the gate.

Elizabeth was capable of shooting, but it was not her strength, so she remained farther back, observing. With some relief, she saw that the windmill was on fire, so the darkspawn were unlikely to discover the secret passage into the castle.

The darkspawn drew back after a while; even as mindless beasts, they knew they needed another strategy to take the castle. “I don’t think Redcliffe has ever been so well defended,” Teagan commented, laughing. “What a difference a mage makes, let alone fifty!”

“As long as we have lyrium,” Gregoire told him. “I hope we brought enough to weather this assault and then bring the attack to the archdemon.”

“Speaking of which, where is the archdemon?” Anora asked. “Should it not be leading its horde?”

“The archdemon is not here,” Riordan said. “Where it is… I do not know. It is not close enough, but I do not know if that means it is far away… or only biding its time until we think we have won. But this does not seem like the main part of the horde after all. I wonder what it means.”

The darkspawn retaliated by bringing in a dozen ogres, armed with boulders to try to throw at the walls. The mages’ attack had left a definite char-line on the bridge to the castle, and the ogres hurled their boulders at the gate while standing beyond the burn marks. One boulder clipped the wall, taking out two mages, three elves, and then five dwarves in the courtyard as it landed. But while they were out of range of the mages, they were not out of range of the elves and their arrows. Whether through skill or lucky shots, three ogres fell and only a few rocks had struck the gate.

At the moment that the ogres turned by the order of the genlock general who appeared to be commanding the attack, there was a rough horn call from over the hill. Oghren looked up. “Sounds like the rest of Harrowmont’s boys finally showed up.”

“How many will there be?” Anora asked. “Are they in great danger?”

“He leads eight hundred of our finest,” the dwarf captain told her. “Not an immense amount of danger.”

“Still, we should sortie,” Arl Bryland said. “There are not so many darkspawn that we cannot crush them between us. Unless the archdemon shows up?” He looked at Riordan.

“Not that I can tell,” Riordan said. “I would favour a sortie.”

“You’ll want to put us in first,” the dwarf captain said, looking pleased at the idea of a sortie. “Those mages can do a lot of damage, but they’re far too squishy to be put on the front lines.”

“I suppose I should be in the very front, then,” Shale said dryly. “All of you are far too fragile, compared to me.”

“So shall it be,” Teagan cried. “Lady Shale shall lead the charge with the dwarves, and you and I, Elizabeth, will follow with the mages and the other soldiers.”

“Don’t call me a lady,” Shale growled, and Teagan looked taken aback.

Elizabeth drew her sword. “I am ready.”

The darkspawn were startled by the sound of answering horns from Redcliffe, and Harrowmont responded until the cliffs rang with the echoes of echoes. The gate rattled up – only partway, as it was bent now, but it was enough – and the defenders charged out.

Elizabeth had wondered if she could still fight properly after the emotional stress she had been through in the last week, and found that the answer was: absolutely. She had no fear anymore as she ran directly to attack an ogre, aided by roots called up by an elf mage somewhere behind her. The darkspawn squealed as they found themselves assaulted on two sides, and Elizabeth could now hear deep dwarven warcries from ahead of her. Her ogre fell, clawing at its bloody throat and twitching from the lightning of her sword, and she sprang ahead, crashing into a line of hurlocks with all the fury she could muster.

Soon enough she was met by new dwarves, and caught sight of Harrowmont’s golden helm shining in the light of the fires. “King Harrowmont! Well met!”

Harrowmont turned and came towards her, and shook her hand as they met. “Well met indeed, Warden Elizabeth. It seems we are just in time to save you.”

“We are all very grateful for your arrival, although Warden Riordan does not believe this is the whole horde.”

“Let us finish the battle before we speak of such things,” Harrowmont said, and charged off with his mace.

The remainder of the battle did not take long after the ogres were brought down. Even as they swept the charred battlefield for surviving darkspawn, the sound of horse-hooves echoed from the cliffs and a rider pulled up. His horse was covered in sweat and lather, bloody lather around its hindquarters – it had been deeply scratched by something.

The rider looked around in horror. “Do not say the darkspawn have taken Redcliffe!”

“Of course they haven’t taken Redcliffe,” Teagan said. “Don’t be silly. What news do you bring, riding so hard?”

“The horde is approaching Denerim!” the rider exclaimed, getting helped down from his exhausted horse. “The Banns are fading before it, retreating to the city. With half the Fort Drakon garrison here, Denerim is helpless!”

“So it was a feint all along!” Teagan cried. “Quickly, man, let’s get you to see Queen Anora. We need a war council at once!”

“King Harrowmont,” Elizabeth said. “You have arrived in the nick of time in more ways than one. Will you join us?”

“Just lead the way,” Harrowmont told her.

 

There wasn’t room inside Redcliffe Castle for the entire army to camp, so the elves and dwarves left the safety of the massive stone walls and began clearing a space on the hilltop again, burning the bodies of the darkspawn. It must not have been comfortable, and Elizabeth was privately, selfishly glad that she was granted her own room at Redcliffe next to Queen Anora.

The war council was held in Eamon’s office, slightly isolated from the bustle of the rest of the castle, and everyone who commanded was there. It was rather packed, but it reminded her of a battle briefing a long time ago given by King Cailan.

“So in short,” Anora summarized, “the darkspawn’s assault here was only a feint with a small portion of their army, and the remainder is headed towards Denerim and has probably arrived by now. And most of all, the archdemon was sighted with them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the messenger. “I was sent as soon as the scouts reported their findings. And a few people tried shooting ballistas at the archdemon, but the dragon just wrecked the ballistas.”

Anora looked around at the assembled leaders. “What would your advice be? My first instinct would be to rush back and protect – or retake – Denerim; however, I realize that might be a foolish idea. King Harrowmont?”

“My people have little experience in fighting the darkspawn on open plains, as you might expect,” Harrowmont said. “But fighting in cities is difficult. There are many places for the monsters to hide and ambush from. I’m not quite sure how you build your cities up here, but to me it would seem advisable to find a suitable fortification to defend from and bait the darkspawn into assaulting it. As for dealing with the archdemon… I don’t know. That is not something my people have experience with.”

“No one here does,” Lanaya said. “Even my late mentor, who lived far beyond even the lifespan of my people, was not that old. I would personally not recommend attacking the city, either, unless the darkspawn have not yet breached it. If they could be lured or forced to the deep woods, it would be easy for my people to take them, but they avoid it carefully. Still, I would rather face them on an open battlefield. There are hilly plains in front of the city, are there not?”

“There would be no cover from the archdemon in the fields,” Gregoire said. “Elizabeth has amassed an army great enough to replace the one sacrificed at Ostagar, but we will still be vastly outnumbered if the greater part of the horde is there. Add to that an unusually powerful dragon, and we wouldn’t stand a chance. While I do not like suggesting fighting in the city, endangering what civilians remain there, I think we would have a better chance there.”

“A well-placed blast of fire could take out all my fellow mages at once,” Irving said, nodding. “I am, for once, with Gregoire.” Gregoire snorted.

“What do you think, Elizabeth?” Riordan asked her, and she jumped.

“Me, ser? But you are senior Warden.”

“I entered this story late, and it is no longer mine to tell, though I aim to assist to the best of my ability,” Riordan said. “But should you survive the final battle, you will undoubtedly become Commander of the Grey in Ferelden.”

She stared at him.

“And so, what do you think?”

“I think,” she said slowly, aware that everyone was watching her, “that we must defend Denerim. If Denerim falls, every Fereldan will lose heart. If Denerim falls, thousands more people will die than have already died in the Bannorn. Whether we fight on the plain or in the city, I think we must go to Denerim.”

“Well said,” Teagan said softly, giving her an encouraging smile.

“I have heard all of you,” Anora said, steepling her fingers. “We will go to Denerim as quickly as we can on the morrow and attempt to save it. Get as much rest as you can tonight, for we will march hard at dawn.”

 

Riordan called to Alistair and her to follow him as they left the council. She obediently followed the older Warden to his room, where he checked the hallway suspiciously and then shut and locked the door.

“W-what’s the matter?” Alistair asked, looking around anxiously. “Ooh, are you going to tell us Warden secrets?”

“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” Riordan said. “I will go straight to the point. Do either of you know, or have you guessed, why it is that Grey Wardens are the only ones who can defeat a Blight?”

Alistair looked at her for help, and she looked at the floor. “Because… we can sense where the darkspawn are?” he asked.

“It is true that we can do that, but it is not our main function,” Riordan said. “What do you know of the archdemon?”

“It’s a gigantic ugly dragon,” Alistair said. “It’s one of the old Tevinter gods, awoken and corrupted by the darkspawn. Um, it controls them through telepathy, which is why we get nightmares?”

“Something like that,” Riordan said. “The fact of the matter is, anyone can kill an archdemon. It is no different from any other living creature in that respect. However. If anyone other than a Grey Warden kills it, its soul will simply possess the nearest darkspawn and continue living. You would have to kill every darkspawn in existence to defeat the archdemon that way.”

“And that would be a huge pain,” Alistair said. “So if we kill it… we kill its soul because…”

“Its soul will be drawn to the body of the Grey Warden who kills it, which bears the taint of the darkspawn but is has its own soul, unlike the darkspawn. And both souls are destroyed in that conflict.”

Alistair swallowed. “So… one of us is going to die in this fight.”

“That is correct. As the senior Warden, it is my duty to make the first attempt. However, should I perish without succeeding, then you two must take up this duty.”

Elizabeth stared at him, horrified. “Loghain was right. I have wasted all my time, running about, gathering allies to no purpose.” No wonder Riordan had said “should you survive” earlier.

“That is not true,” Riordan told her. “What good is it if we are killed before we even reach the archdemon? Our allies will keep the darkspawn armies occupied while we few attempt our task.”

“But I gained the trust of all these people – I never promised them victory, but they all expect it – and now they will follow me into the jaws of doom and if I fail, I die and then they all die, and if I succeed, then I still die-”

“I know,” Riordan said. “It doesn’t seem fair. It has happened the last four Blights, and every Warden who was consumed had things to live for as well. But one life for the freedom of everyone… that is not so great a price to pay, is it? ”

“…No,” she agreed in a whisper. The Grey Wardens had taken everything from her that Howe had not; why not her life as well?

“But if all goes well, then I will take this burden for you.” Riorden went to unlock the door. “I imagine you have much to think about. Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now. Please try to sleep well.”

Elizabeth went straight back to her room at a brisk trot, leaving Alistair far behind. What was she going to do?

The answer, it seemed, was to speak to Morrigan, because the witch was waiting for her, leaning on her fireplace and watching the flames dance. She turned when she heard Elizabeth enter. “Has Riordan told you what you need to know?”

Elizabeth stopped cold. “You know. You knew. You always knew!”

“Elizabeth-”

“You knew all these months what I would have to face and never told me!? I might have become reconciled to it by now if- if only-! Are you going to abandon me too?”

“Listen to me!” Morrigan snapped, and Elizabeth stopped in her tirade and focused on her. It was hard to tell, but Morrigan looked… worried? And regretful? “It was… manipulative of me, but that was my whole purpose for being with you. That was the reason Flemeth sent me. If I had told you any of it before, would you have believed me?”

“You didn’t even try to trust me, then,” Elizabeth muttered.

Morrigan looked like she wanted to shake her. “I told you that. I like you, but I trust no one. The world is harsh and cruel and letting oneself… care… only makes it more cruel. Now, if you are done with your tantrum…?”

“Why are you here?” Elizabeth asked, sitting on the edge of her bed wearily. “Why do you need to know that I know what Riordan knows?”

“I have come to offer you a way out,” Morrigan said slowly. “There is a way to slay the archdemon… and not lose any Grey Wardens.”

“And what is that?”

“I know a ritual that will bind the soul of the archdemon to an unborn child, both ending the Blight and preserving the soul of the Warden who kills its draconic body. However, this ritual requires… an unborn child fathered by a Warden. This means you have to convince Alistair to have sex with me.” Morrigan spoke slightly too quickly, almost as if she was… nervous?

“I have to convince Alistair?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re not talking these days.”

“You’re not talking to anyone, these days,” Morrigan said. “Besides your silly dog, Leliana’s the only one who can have a normal conversation with you, it seems, though Alistair and the elf in particular make every effort to avoid you and you avoid them. You think no one noticed?”

“I’m sure everyone noticed,” Elizabeth muttered.

“But yes. If I go to him, do you think he will even bother to listen to me?”

“He might,” Elizabeth said. “You don’t seem to hate each other as much as when you first met.”

Morrigan turned away quickly. “Perhaps. But he still trusts you far more than me. I know, I know, it’s manipulative, but… the choice is yours.”

Elizabeth thought about that for a while, trying not to feel that painful, illusionary thread of hope. “What happens to you, with this child?”

“I will take the child, and raise him – or her – far away from here. It will not even know it was once Urthemiel the archdemon. What Flemeth’s original purpose was, I do not know, and I tell you the truth, if you care to believe me. You will never see me again, never have to worry about me again.”

“I will never have to fight you for doing something I disagree with?” Elizabeth asked.

“I don’t know,” Morrigan said. “I would prefer not to. Like I said, I like you. It would be a pity to have to kill one of the few people who once trusted me for some reason.”

It sounded like she was making a joke, but Elizabeth didn’t smile. “…I will speak to Alistair.”

 

Alistair had not lit the fire in his room, and only one candle – it was quite dark inside when Elizabeth knocked on the door. “Yes?”

“I… need to talk to you. In private.”

He let her in and shut the door; even in the dim light, he looked concerned. “Is it about our impending demise?”

“N- Yes. I think.”

He pulled out a chair for her and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Go on.” It seemed he had forgotten everything that had blown up between them at the Landsmeet; the only expression on his face was worry – for her.

“Morrigan says there is a way for us to kill the archdemon without dying,” she said, staring at her hands clasped on the table. “But… to do that… you have to have sex with her.”

He snorted. “Good one.”

“N-no, that’s what she said to me.”

His brief smile faded, and he got up to walk around restlessly. He blew a sigh. “You’re serious. …Just what I always wanted, sex with a witch. I suppose Oghren wouldn’t be able to make fun of me anymore…”

“I’m sorry,” she said wretchedly. “I know this is… this is all on you, and I don’t mean it to be… You don’t have to, just… I… You know I never really was happy with being a Grey Warden, giving up so much, and now… I know I could have died many times on this journey, but to know there is no possibility other than death… and I’m only nineteen, and… a-and… Zevran…” She still hadn’t reconciled with Zevran yet. She would have to do it tonight and the thought chilled her stomach even as she began to cry.

“H-hey, it’s- it’s okay,” Alistair said, reaching out awkwardly to pat her shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

“Y-you don’t have to, it’s foolish, I shouldn’t be… pressuring you…”

“You’re not,” he said, maybe a little bit quickly. “But you’re right. I know Riordan said he’d go first, and he’s awesome, but… if it comes down to us…” He coughed awkwardly. “So… uh… where’s Morrigan?”

“She was waiting in my room.”

“Are there any… side effects I should know about, besides the possibility of fatherhood?”

“You will be a father,” she said quietly, trying to dry her tears. “She plans to capture the archdemon’s soul in the baby, in a baby fathered by a Warden.”

“And I don’t suppose Riordan would be too keen on being seduced by her,” Alistair said, and sighed again. “It won’t lead to anything ending the world, right?”

“I hope not,” she said. “I don’t know. I’m just… scared.”

“Well, if we do it and Riordan finds out… well, it’ll be too late then. We’ll just endure whatever we get.” He gave her a shaky, but reassuring smile. “Let’s do it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You don’t mind?”

“I like living as much as the next person,” he said. “Honestly, if our positions were reversed, I’d have begged you on my knees to save me.”

“Er.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Um. Right. So… uh, also, I’m sorry about… well, you know, the whole Landsmeet thing. I was…”

“It’s all right,” she said quickly. “I was being selfish again.”

He nodded several times, processing that. “Well… I was a huge ass, as you rightly pointed out. You’re under a lot of pressure and I wasn’t helping. I really am grateful for what you did for me, I really am. I’ll help better from now on. Starting with this… thing. Let’s, ah, go.”

Morrigan was waiting for them again, and she seemed both relieved and more nervous by Alistair’s presence. “So you agree, then.”

“Yes,” Alistair said, though there was a squeak in the middle of his word. “Um. Yes.”

“And you are both resigned to not worrying about the consequences, yes?”

“Yes, but…” Elizabeth hesitated. “Morrigan… what am I going to tell Zevran?”

“Tell me what?” said a soft Antivan voice, and she froze before turning. He was standing in the doorway, staring at her seriously, and she swallowed.

“Let us go somewhere private, then,” Morrigan said. “You can deal with this, Elizabeth. And Alistair… I think this will not be as unpleasant as you might believe.”

“If you say so,” he grumbled, but when she took his hand to lead him out of Elizabeth’s room, he didn’t protest.

Zevran stood back to let Morrigan and Alistair pass, and then closed the door behind him and walked to Elizabeth. “What’s going on?”

She had to focus on breathing for a moment to prevent herself from breaking down again, and kept her gaze steady on him as much as she could. “Can you guess why it is that only Grey Wardens can defeat the Blight?”

He frowned, looking a little confused. “You… are… magic?”

“Er… no. But we are the only ones who can permanently kill the archdemon. If anyone else kills it, its soul will just enter another darkspawn and the Blight will continue. As I understand it.” She paused. “And then… the Warden who kills it… dies.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t die.”

“I… may have done a terrible thing,” she said. “Morrigan offered me a deal that I might live if I am the one to kill the archdemon.”

“Please tell me you took it.” He grasped her hands, staring into her eyes.

“I did,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know what will happen. What that means. Whether I have made a huge mistake. I’m not doing what the Wardens have done for the last four Blights, I’m doing what Flemeth wants me to do, and I distrust her more than ever. I… mostly… trust Morrigan, but she won’t tell me what she is going to do afterwards. I don’t think even she knows. And you can’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“Not a word,” he said solemnly. “I understand. Warden secrets. And your secrets. But… you will live?”

“If I strike down the archdemon, and Morrigan’s ritual works, I will live.” She shrugged. “If I fall to something else… Well, I’ve faced that danger for months now.” She glanced at him. “You’re… not angry?”

“Why should I be angry? You are facing death more clearly than anything I have done in my life, and you are rightly afraid.”

“Are… are you still angry at me for… the last time we spoke…?”

He heaved a sigh, looking away from her. “Are you certain you wish to talk about it? Not because I am angry – I am not – but… I really do not know what to say.”

She mustered up her courage. “Do… do you doubt how I feel about you?” If it had been a proposal, she must have seemed like she didn’t love him enough.

“I- no, this… I am acting like a child, I realize.” He turned away, put a hand to his head, turned back restlessly. “I apologize. Let me try to explain.” His words came slowly. “An assassin… must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasures where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I had thought… in the beginning… it was the same between us. A pleasant diversion to enjoy, and little more. And yet…”

“And yet… you…” She swallowed. “Do you love me?”

He looked at her helplessly. “I… don’t know. How would you know such a thing? I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favour of the kill. Everything I have been taught says that what I feel is wrong.” He clenched his hands, then opened them and looked at them. “Yet… I cannot help it. Ever since you… gave yourself to me, that first time in the forest, I have been nothing but confused. Do you understand me at all?”

“I am no wiser than you about love,” she said quietly. “I… I think I love you, but I do not know what it feels like, what it looks like.”

He took her hand. “All I want to know is… if there might be some future for us, some possibility of… I do not know what.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. If I survive, yes, definitely. I want that too.”

“I… still have the earring. I would like to give it to you… as a token of affection. Will you take it?”

She nodded, a tear spilling from the corner of her eye, and his lips crashed against hers.

“Then I am yours,” he murmured against her mouth, kissing her passionately, and she clung to him desperately. They were pressed together so tightly, and yet she wanted to be closer, to melt into him if she could, to become part of him, so that neither of them would be alone again.

She couldn’t literally melt into him, but to straddle him and feel him sliding inside her, with his breath hot on her neck and in her ear, was pretty close. Her skin was pale and unmarked except by scars, light and dark slashes and spots across her body, and his skin was dark and traced by scars and tattoos, her hair was dark and his was gold, she was human and he was elf, but they were still, for a moment, one being, one whole.

They lay together on her bed, spent, holding hands and looking at each other. “Assassinating you was the luckiest thing that could have happened to me. If you don’t make it, I’m never having sex again,” Zevran announced.

She tried to laugh but couldn’t. “You don’t have to make such a promise-”

“It’s… I’m serious. I would miss you for being you, certainly, but… I never knew what it was like to sleep with a woman who trusted me so implicitly, whom I could trust implicitly. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

“Zev…”

He finally smiled a little. “I am sorry for acting so strangely. I think I will be better now, now that we have talked. Much better. And I’ll follow wherever you lead. What we are doing here… stopping the Blight. I have never done anything which is so worthy.”

“I suppose it would be futile to ask you to stay behind while I attack the dragon,” she admitted, answering his smile shyly.

His own smile faded and he reached out to draw her closer into his arms. “Oh, my dark-haired Fereldan beauty, in truth, for the chance to be by your side I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it.”

She choked up and could think of nothing to say, so she kissed him fiercely.

 

She woke in the grey morning before the sun rose. Zevran was draped partly over her, one arm loosely wrapped over her breasts and his nose buried in her neck.

She was comfortable. She wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in warm, strong arms, surrounded by his scent, feeling his lean body spooning hers, hearing his gentle sleep-breathing. But she had to get up.

When she stirred, Zevran made tiny noises and tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. “I need to get up,” she told him. “Toilet.” Which was actually true, but there was a chamber pot under the bed and she wasn’t planning to go back afterwards, no matter how tempting his warmth was. She felt his eyes on her as she dressed in tunic and pants and boots, but avoided looking at him.

The castle was cold as she ascended to the walls to look at the tents of the army, camped on the top of the cliff opposite the castle on the ground blackened by the darkspawn attack. The smoke had cleared and the sun was just peeking over the tops of the distant hills, casting a red-gold light over the waking camp and onto her face.

It was a large camp. Perhaps they could win this. If the archdemon came after the army instead of the Wardens… she would just have to protect them, too. She touched the amulet hanging around her neck; Zevran’s ring now hung from the chain beside it.

She turned and saw Zevran had followed her. His hair shone gold in the light of the rising sun, and his eyes were steady on her. She met his gaze now, and he came to her, taking her hand and twining his fingers with hers, standing beside her, looking out at the view like she was. She suddenly realized they had stood here once before, back when he was newly joined their group, back when Sten watched him just in case he betrayed them. He had told her his first stories that day, and it had rained, but while it wasn’t raining for a moment… they’d looked at the view. And he had made silly comments about it.

He had no silly comments this morning, it seemed, only wrapping an arm around her and leaning his head against hers. She felt her heart swell painfully; she loved him, and she loved Ferelden, and she loved the sunrise. She didn’t want to lose any of it.

She kissed him briefly on the mouth, and then it was time to return to reality and finish their task.

Their task, it seemed, was only just begun. Even as they set off on the forced march back to Denerim a few minutes later, the sun passed behind clouds and the days became dark and cloudy. The roads were just as bad as when they had set out, Everyone was tense and anxious, and Elizabeth spent much of her time when not marching going about with Lanaya or Harrowmont. The dwarves muttered to themselves, casting furtive glances up at the sky, and suspicious glances at Oghren, who chuckled at their discomfort, and they spoke in a surly manner to the humans who were not Elizabeth or Alistair.

The elves were a little more polite, taking the weather in their stride, but they and the humans were also not terribly keen on speaking to each other. Some scuffles broke out in the mornings, and the humans were surprised to find these elves were not subservient like the ones in the cities, it seemed, and the elves were contemptuous of the humans who thought such things. In the evenings everyone was too tired to fight. Elizabeth worried that even if they reached the city in time, no one would have the energy to fight and they would throw away their entire force for nothing.

On the third day, the sky turned from cloudy grey to an ominous reddish-black. Elizabeth had seen it so when passing through the southern part of Ferelden previously, and again in Redcliffe a few days ago, but never this bad. The fields around the highway were blackened; some were even still on fire. The horde had passed through less than two days ago, Riordan estimated, destroying everything in their path, and as she looked ahead, she thought she could see a glow on the horizon that was not from the sun.

Late into the afternoon, the walls of Denerim came into eyesight and it was as she feared – it was surrounded by monsters and fire. The fields and outlying villages were torched, and where there was bare ground, hideous perversions danced and gibbered and shrieked at the silent walls. Scouts reported that the horde was busily engaged in knocking down the main gates of the city with no thought for tactics, and that the archdemon was circling the city, occasionally diving with purple fire upon any soldiers foolish enough to fire arrows or ballistas at it. But the gates would not last long now.

“Once they breach the gates, the city will not stand a chance,” Anora said in their hastily thrown-together war council. “We must focus our assault on one gate, and hope that it draws attackers from the other gates. Elizabeth, what would be your recommendation?”

Elizabeth had not neglected to ask Harrowmont, Lanaya, and Gregoire for advice, and her answer was prepared – if a little nervous. “The dwarves of Orzammar will charge the gate, flanked by the men of Redcliffe and Denerim. In the centre will be the mages, and the elves will be mixed into the human formations as skirmishers. I and my companions will be in the lead group.” Her allies nodded their agreement.

“Not bad,” Anora said. “I will be in the Denerim army with Bryland and Alfstanna. Once inside the city, I would recommend heading to Fort Drakon. It has the highest towers and you can draw the archdemon’s fire without risking many civilians. It will also have many soldiers to aid you. We will keep as many darkspawn away from you as we can. Now come; it is time to address the troops.”

Elizabeth nodded, her heartbeat beginning to speed up.

Anora led her to the hilltop around which their army had paused for a break. Arl Bryland called for silence, and the couple thousand soldiers of all races quieted and turned to listen.

“Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde,” Anora cried. “Gaze upon them now, but fear them not! This woman beside me you all know: Elizabeth, daughter of the Couslands, now raised to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. She is proof that glory is within reach of all of us. She has survived despite the odds, and without her, not one of us would be here!” She gestured to Elizabeth, who took a step forward.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked around at all the expectant eyes fixed on her. “You have come from every part of this land to heed my call, and for that I do not know how to thank you.” She struggled to project her voice as clearly and strongly as Anora, the general’s daughter, had done. “Before us stands our merciless and brutal goal, and we are outnumbered, outmanoeuvred, and outclassed. But I am not going to give up! And I will fight with the last of my strength to win!” After what she had done in the hope of saving her life, she couldn’t talk about giving even her life to stop the darkspawn. But she would fight to win as she fought to survive, and that would have to be enough.

She looked at the burning city. “I know you love life and this land as much as I do. Even if this is not your home, you know what it feels like to have your home threatened, even to have it taken away from you. But that is why…” She drew her sword and held it aloft, and purple-blue lightning blazed along its edge. “That is why we fight today! We will not back down – we cannot back down – we will defeat the archdemon and save Ferelden – and the world!”

Anora clapped for her, and the army gave a weak cheer, and then a stronger one, and then a stronger one still.

Anora stepped forward again, pointing with her sword towards the city. “Today, we save Denerim! Today, we avenge the death of my husband, King Cailan! But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honour their sacrifice! For Ferelden!”

The leaders shouted their orders, and then they were charging down the hillside towards the not-so-distant darkspawn. But their attention was on the city, not the warriors behind them, and when they turned to face them, the monsters’ defense was uncoordinated, easily shattered and driven aside. As Elizabeth planned, the wedge of their forces drove in towards the gate, with the heavily armed and armoured dwarves bearing the initial brunt of the assault. They were getting slower as the darkspawn grew thicker. Elizabeth was in the thick of it, hacking and stabbing and striking with her shield, trusting that her friends were close around her. Magic erupted around her, mostly from the mages of the Tower, making a terrifying vanguard for their arrival.

There was a huge splintering crash from ahead of them, and the gate finally cracked and fell, dragged down by twenty or so ogres. She heard Gregoire giving orders to attack the ogres, but the hurlocks and genlocks – and those strange lean creatures that she heard called shrieks – were pouring into the gate as fast as they could, not even bothering about the army.

And if this gate had fallen, the other one might have as well. They would have to move fast to get to Fort Drakon, halfway up the mountain, before reinforcements cut them off or burned down the city in their path. But for now they had to clear the gate.

A few minutes of hard fighting, and they had achieved a slight lull in the fighting on the city side of their army. The rear side had now been surrounded, but they had room to retreat into the city if they needed to. Riordan found her and called her. “It is time to go. Pick two or three companions to accompany you and Alistair – we must go quietly and your entire group would attract too much attention. You may say farewell, but quickly. ”

“Understood,” she said. “One moment, then.”

She knew she had to be quick, but she might not see them again. She pulled off her helmet, and wiped the sweat that drenched her brow. Her hair was plastered to her head. “Sten. I’m going now. You are in charge of my friends.”

“Understood, kadan.” Sten smiled one of his rare smiles, grim though it was.

“And thank you for everything. I could not have come this far without you.”

“I have done nothing. You have carried us to this point. Do not doubt that.” Sten turned away to observe the battlefield behind them.

“Zevran, Huan, you are with me.” Huan barked joyously, as if she had suggested going for a romp in the fields, not a desperate battle to the death with a dragon. “Wynne… could I ask you to come as well?” Her healing and shielding would be extremely helpful, even more helpful than Morrigan’s curses and elements, perhaps.

“It would be my honour,” Wynne said, with a smile and a graceful bow. “All that we have been through has led up to this. Whatever happens now, to either of us, know that I am proud – infinitely proud – to have called you friend. Onward, then, and may the Maker smile upon us.”

“After all that, and I am not going with you?” Morrigan cried, disappointed, even a little concerned.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “I think this will be where we part ways.”

“Yes, that is for the best, I suppose,” Morrigan said slowly. “You go your way, to your destiny, and I go my way, to mine.”

Elizabeth smiled at her, tacitly forgiving her and asking her forgiveness. “Thank you for everything.”

“I did not know what it meant to have a friend, once. But you, I would gladly consider such. Go, slay your archdemon. Live gloriously, my friend. I will not see you again.” She bowed to Elizabeth, who bowed back.

“So dramatic,” Alistair muttered, but Morrigan gestured to him, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, he went over to her for a more private farewell.

Leliana was next. “This is it? This is the end? We’ve come so far. It’s strange knowing our fates will be decided in a matter of hours. I wish I could go with you.”

“I would take all of you if I could, but apparently that is not a good idea.”

“I know, I know, and you have taken those dearest to you. I would have gladly stood by your side, even to the death. But I understand. You have been a true friend, and I… I will be extremely cross with you if you… don’t return. Be careful out there, and go forge a legend of your own, one that I can tell to everybody!” Leliana threw her arms around her and hugged her, and Elizabeth hugged her back tightly.

“I will, and thank you for being my friend.”

Oghren was trying not to look like he was wiping his eyes when Elizabeth turned to him. “It’s been an honour fighting with you, Oghren.”

“Honour?” Oghren asked gruffly, straightening up. “ Nobody’s looked at me and seen honour in a long time, Eliza. You took in a drunken disgrace of an Orzammar warrior and gave me a reason to fight and the will to keep going. You helped me find the one woman in the whole sodding world who might put up with me, and helped me get past Branka so I could have someone new. I owe you a lot, Eliza. I consider a fine honour to die for you and your cause.”

“The honour is mine, my friend.” Elizabeth offered him her hand, and he shook it heartily.

“Then it’s sodding honour for everyone,” he said, and chuckled. “That’s war for you. Let the stone turn black from the blood of monsters!”

“So the archdemon is next, is it?” Shale said, shaking her head. “Part of me is glad that it has decided to leave me here at the gate, but the other part is… apprehensive? I would almost say that I feel concern for something other than myself, even maybe for a soft, squishy companion… but that would be silly, wouldn’t it?”

“Thank you, Shale,” Elizabeth said. “I appreciate the thought.”

“And, ah… do try not to get swallowed whole. If the beast were to fly about afterwards and poop it out, irony dictates that it would land on me. I couldn’t take it.” Elizabeth had to giggle nervously at that. “Well, then. I suppose this is it? Have fun storming the castle.”

“Come on, then,” Oghren roared. “We’ll hold the gate here. What are your orders, Captain Sten?”

“Technically, he just called him Captain Captain,” Zevran pointed out.

“Are we ready?” Elizabeth said. “Riordan is waiting.”

“Just a moment,” Alistair said. “I want to say something too. I know Morrigan’s- well, anyway, who knows if we’ll survive long enough to take that final blow? So I just want you to know it’s been an honour fighting at your side.”

“You’ve been a good friend,” she said to him.

He gave her a fistbump. “Then let’s go kick the archdemon’s ass!”

“What about me? Don’t I get some last words?” Zevran said, spinning her around into his arms. “I’m glad you are taking me with you. I was nearly afraid you were about to march inside without me, in some misguided concern for your lover’s health. We cannot have that! Let us go and teach this dragon a lesson, yes? It should have stayed in whatever hole it crawled out of. And no getting eaten! Unless it’s by me, or you think it’s really important, of course.”

“It’s very far down on my to-do list,” Elizabeth assured him, and kissed him.

There was a longing look on his face when they separated, but then he gave her an evil smirk. “Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie?”

She burst out laughing, laughing joyously, and broke away from him, running in the direction Riordan was already striking out in. Huan followed her, barking. She saw Alistair and Wynne were both chuckling at her, and she didn’t care. Her heart was light. Every burden had fallen from her shoulders except this last one, and it might be the greatest of all, but it was only one, and she could deal with that.

Zevran caught up to her, catching her hand, and she smiled broadly at him. “Thank you. I feel much better.”

“That’s what I’m here for. That, and killing things. I will kill all of the things, except for the archdemon.”

 

Her good mood turned to serious determination as they set to the grim business of pressing up through the city. Many buildings were on fire from flaming arrows shot by the darkspawn, and civilians and guards were running about attempting to save them, to flee, to retreat to more defensible positions – and the darkspawn that had managed to rush through the collapsed gate were finding them easy targets. She hoped anxiously that Elra and Gemmet were not among them.

“Keep going,” Riordan advised them. She knew he was right. If they stopped to fight the darkspawn, they would become overwhelmed or at least too spent to fight the archdemon. So they ran through the streets, dodging civilians, taking back alleys to avoid one or two ogres. In one alley, they had to do some quick swordwork when some shrieks spotted them and materialized out of seemingly thin air, and she jumped to protect Wynne.

Riordan’s skill with a sword was awe-inspiring. He took no shield, only using his sword with a master’s grace and accuracy; no darkspawn was able to so much as touch him. He was as good as Zevran, Elizabeth thought, perhaps even better with all his experience.

They ran on through the city, Elizabeth and Alistair panting a little in their armour. Wynne kept up with them quite well, her robes not hindering her at all. Huan bounded tirelessly beside them, and Zevran and Riordan ran fluidly a little ahead of them. They were almost halfway there when suddenly there was a roar from their left, and they saw a whole division of various types of darkspawn rampaging down one of the main roads. Her eyes went wide.

“The other gate has fallen,” Riordan said calmly, still leading them onwards. “Don’t get hit by arrows. We cannot get pinned here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Alistair said wryly. “I’ll just use the eyes I have in the back of my head to spot them before they hit me.”

There was another roar from ahead of them, and Elizabeth almost paused in her stride, almost stumbled, and then she saw – the new roar was from a large number of drunks, wearing all kinds of makeshift armour, wielding any sort of implements they could find. They charged past Elizabeth’s group, and the roaring turned to screams.

“Poor fools,” Alistair panted. “Is it wrong that all I can think right now is that they’ll buy us some time?”

“It is natural in this situation,” Riordan said. “We will mourn and honour them later.” But if they didn’t keep going, everyone in that city would share their fate.

There was a rattle from above, and a number of elves appeared on the rooftops, armed with bows. “Go, Wardens!” shouted Valendrien from among them. “We’ll keep them back for a moment longer.” Elizabeth wondered where they had acquired the bows, and then figured they had plenty of opportunities to find weapons. Maybe the guards had even armed them when they saw the attack was coming. Loghain had said the alienage would be impossible to hold, had considered the elves useless enough to sell into slavery. He had reckoned without the strength of desperate people backed into a corner, she thought.

They had to cross one more bridge before they would make it to the fortress. Even as they began to cross it, movement came from the right, and Elizabeth turned to see the archdemon diving at them along the river’s course between the buildings. She screamed and jumped back – it was so fast! And it seemed even more gigantic than before, and the purple fire it was breathing wasn’t helping.

Riordan didn’t even hesitate – as the archdemon struck the bridge, shaking its foundations and cracking it in the middle, he leaped from the arch onto the dragon’s back, clinging with one hand and stabbing furiously with his sword in the other.

“Andraste’s flaming sword, he’s good,” Alistair gasped, watching the dragon spiral up, trying to dislodge the small stinging creature lodged on its back. As they watched, the dragon suddenly banked to the right, and Riordan was partly flung off. He dug his sword into the dragon’s wing, but it cut all the way to the bottom, and Riordan fell from above Fort Drakon to its courtyard. The dragon screamed and crashed into the tallest level of Fort Drakon.

Elizabeth and Alistair looked at each other with white faces. “It’s up to us, now,” Alistair said tightly.

“First you have to get up to that castle,” Zevran said. “The bridge doesn’t look stable. We must hurry!” He ran lightly to the other side and turned, waiting for them with an outstretched hand. Huan ran to him and got a headscratch for his trouble.

“I’m going,” Alistair said, and charged across the bridge after Zevran. Even as he reached the other side, it crumbled and the gap in the middle widened. Alistair almost slipped into the river, but Zevran caught him and hauled him to safety. Huan barked anxiously.

“Now how do we cross?” panted Wynne, who had still not quite recovered her breath.

“Here’s a rope!” Zevran cried. “It will reach, just grab it and we’ll pull you across!” The sound of monsters behind them hooting and screeching was growing louder.

Elizabeth grabbed the end of the rope and tied it around both herself and Wynne before taking a firm hold on it. She got a running start and jumped as far as she could, but didn’t even get halfway before she fell. The rope snapped taut, and Wynne clung to her as the two men and the dog pulled them steadily to safety. As Elizabeth got to her feet and Zevran cut the women free from the rope, the darkspawn arrived on the other side of the bridge, screaming at them. Some of them tried to jump, but fell short, splashing heavily into the river. She saw with satisfaction that darkspawn had no idea how to swim.

The companions turned and kept running. Sooner or later those darkspawn would find a way to cross the river. But they were nearly at the fort, and the roads were sloping uphill. Yes, there was the gate, and it was closed, the portcullis down.

Elizabeth banged on it. “Grey Wardens! Let us in!”

“The darkspawn are attacking!” a soldier yelled fearfully at them from an arrow slit in the tower beside them. There was a noise of arguing, and then a new voice rang from the window.

“We can’t let you in, Elizabeth. To do so would risk the integrity of the Fort. I am sorry, but Denerim may be lost and you will be too.”

“Cauthrien!” Elizabeth shouted. “Are you aware the archdemon lies wounded on your rooftop? Only a Grey Warden can kill it! Let us in!”

“The… archdemon? I had hoped it was not, but there is no mistaking that creature, is there?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth glanced behind them. There were no darkspawn yet, but she wasn’t certain how long that would last. “Don’t waste time, Cauthrien! The longer you delay, the more likely it is that someone else will kill it – and then it will rise again!”

“What!?” Elizabeth heard orders, and the gate began to creak open the slightest crack. They squeezed through as soon as they could, and the gate shut quickly behind them. Over on one side, Riordan’s body lay broken and still on the pavement, soldiers clustered around him, whispering to each other.

Cauthrien met them inside the gate. “Is what you said true?” she demanded. “The archdemon will rise again if killed by a mere mortal?”

Elizabeth ignored her mocking tone. “As far as I know, it is true. Unfortunately, Warden Riordan was killed in his attempt-”

She was interrupted by a screech from the archdemon, and flinched, covering her ears. There were words in that cry, words she did not understand or want to understand. Words in a voice that had plagued her nightmares off and on for months, a voice she would never forget until she died – which might be today.

But if she was affected, Cauthrien and the other soldiers were more affected. Even Zevran shrank back, looking frightened, and Huan cowered at her feet. Only Alistair was as little bothered as she was.

“H-how can we help, then?” Cauthrien said, when she had recovered sufficiently.

“Just hold back the darkspawn,” Alistair said. “They’ll probably be coming to the archdemon’s defense about now. You have ballistas here, don’t you? Shoot the dragon’s wings, shoot his legs, shoot his tail – just don’t accidentally shoot his head or his heart.”

“Understood,” Cauthrien said, already recovering, a hard, determined look on her face. Even if her lord was dead, she was still his trusted lieutenant and the captain of Fort Drakon. “I’ll have someone show you to the roof.”

Elizabeth followed the frightened soldier through the castle she had once bluffed her way out of, moving higher and higher through its levels until the soldier pointed them at one last doorway at the top of a short flight of stairs in a darkened hall, and ran in terror.

She drew her sword, adjusted her battered shield, and smiled fiercely at her friends. “Let’s do this.” She ran up the stairs to the door and booted it open, letting the dim Blight-covered daylight wash into the dark corridor.

 

I followed her, as I would always follow her, and watched her as she ran out onto the rooftop. There was no fear on her beautiful face now, not even rage – although that could change – just a wonderful, indomitable, warm-hearted determination. And she was charging straight as an arrow at the wounded archdemon lying on the roof. Its right wing was in bloody tatters, and it seemed dazed from its crash-landing. I had seen it once before, in the tunnels near Orzammar, but to see it here, in a place I understood, in the smoggy light of day… it was as terrifying as all the tales said, all purple armoured plating and a head like a skull, crowned with horns three feet long.

But my Liz was more terrifying, I was certain.

Alistair and Huan were running after her. Madam Wynne was casting defensive spells on everyone. I looked around and found there were ballistas. They were angled outwards, and some of them were smashed, and I let a curse slip out as I wrestled with the nearest working one, bringing it back to bear on the dragon. The first bolt arced out with a deep twang, and the bolt sank into its left wing. Well, it wasn’t taking off anytime soon.

The dragon leaned back, and suddenly its head shot forward and purple fire scorched the rooftop. Liz jumped to one side with a shout, and as it turned to follow her, she ran around it. Alistair took advantage of its distraction to cut at its neck, but although he managed to find a gap in the armoured plates and blood gushed out, it would take more than that to kill it for good. It hissed at the wound and swung its head around, using it as a club to knock Alistair away. Before it could pounce on him and devour him, Liz stabbed it in the leg. Torn between two enemies, one on each side, and me shooting it in the wing, it would be too divided to conquer.

Uh oh. Apparently my shooting it hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was coming in my direction, and inhaling to breathe fire again-

“No you don’t!” Liz shouted, hacking at its head, so bravely. Her sword bounced off its horns, but I saw lightning crackle for a few moments after each strike. It turned and snapped at her, and she fell backwards with a cry. Alistair jumped in front of her, taking the next snake-like lunge on his shield, being knocked head over heels – but now Liz was back on her feet and could move and defend herself again.

I heard a hullaballoo from the door we had entered the arena by, and looked to see a number of hurlocks climbing the stairs to the rooftop. So the gates and the defenders in the lower halls hadn’t been able to hold them back. Well, they were soft city guards, terrified by the thought of fighting, let alone fighting monsters out of the most nightmarish legends available. I wondered if there were any alive. The Cauthrien woman probably was. She was as tough as they came.

More importantly, the darkspawn couldn’t get near Liz. I yanked the ballista around again, and managed to get a shot off before Huan was attacking them, Madam Wynne helping him out with some well-placed stone spells. But there were more and more of them, nearly a dozen now with more arriving. I reloaded as fast as I could, although I was considering joining the melee myself… No, my next bolt – carefully aimed so as not to hit Huan, who was barking himself hoarse – skewered three in one hit. Try doing that with a dagger!

They were spreading out now, getting away from the door. Some of them were charging at me, and I grinned as I sprang to meet them, my daggers of fire and ice dancing through the air. Darkspawn always did seem to have some kind of perpetual skull-like grin. At least they seemed to be having a good time when I cut their throats.

“Get back, Wynne!” I shouted. She should be behind me, at this point – her stoneskin spell would only last so long, and getting surrounded by hurlocks was foolish for anyone, let alone a defenseless mage. Liz and Alistair would have to handle the dragon on their own for the moment. I dodged an axe attack, and felt pain blossom along my leg as another one got a lucky swipe in with a sword. The pain faded quickly as Wynne cast a healing spell on me, letting me move freely again, and I used my positioning to sweep that darkspawn off its feet, twisting around to stab it in the eye and then jumping up again.

Wynne cried out, and I turned to see that two genlocks had gotten up to her while she was healing me. I hissed and dashed to her rescue, stabbing one in the back. The other half-turned to face me and I slashed its throat. Black blood spattered over my hands, but Wynne had been knocked down. The old lady was still alive, as far as I could tell, but magic was no longer on the table for us for the time being. I turned back to face the darkspawn. Not all of them were attacking me, which was good for me, but that meant that there were enough running around to attack Liz and Alistair.

This was the most intense fight I’d been in since that one time I was part of Princess Ferenna’s assassination attempt. On one hand, I was loving it. On the other hand… she was in far more danger than I was, and I wasn’t allowed to help her. Alistair had moved to help Huan block her from the advancing darkspawn, leaving her alone to fight the dragon.

Even as I sidestepped another attack, blades flashing, the dragon let out another shriek like it had done before. I almost fell to my knees at the horrible sound, and even the darkspawn flinched. I had to recover first. I had to!

There were only a couple left facing me, and then I would be able to get back on the ballista. I forced my arms and legs to move again, although they were trembling now, and my blows did not have their usual fire in them. I would make do. I could survive this, at least.

The dragon was crawling around, dragging its tattered and bleeding wings behind it, forcing Liz back with snaps of his jaws. Each snap rang from the stones, and sounded like it could crush steel bricks. Liz was dodging, not even using her shield right now – what good was her little shield against teeth as long as her arm? But she looked to be getting tired. I finished off the last hurlock facing me and ran back to the ballista, loading it as fast as I could. If I could slow it down, she would have a better chance.

The dragon roared again, breathing fire again, but its fury seemed weaker now, too, and Liz dodged it easily. It was getting close. It wouldn’t be long now-

The dragon snapped again, and its teeth closed around her shield arm. It tossed its head, and she flew through the air, away from me. I shouted her name in agony, but she didn’t fall from the keep; she struck the wall beside the door and slid down.

Screw it. I would have to shoot it. My next bolt struck it in the nose, and it screamed and shook its head.

But she was still moving, climbing painfully to her feet, dragging herself up for another round with death incarnate.

“No more!” she shouted to me. “No more! I have it!” She painfully ran to the side, and it was too full of bolts on my side to follow her.

“Elizabeth-!” shouted Alistair, but he was blocked in by four hurlocks. There was no way he was reaching her side in time to take the blow himself.

Liz roared and swung her lightning sword, stabbing down two-handed into the spine at the base of the skull. A brilliant light erupted from the wound, and the sound of rushing wind. Both Liz and the dragon were screaming, and my ears felt like they were going to bleed from the sheer volume. I couldn’t even hear her. But I could see her, and I wanted to go to her, drag her away from the chaos that was blasting out from the wound she had caused. Except my feet wouldn’t move.

I cursed my feet, my heart crying out even as Liz cried out, even as the dragon and the wind cried out. The light was beaming high into the sky, a spectacular sight, probably reaching the moon itself for all I knew or cared.

The noise and light reached its peak and the dragon exploded, knocking me straight onto my ass. I tumbled over and over until I hit the parapet of the fortress and lay there stunned for a moment.

As soon as I could, I dragged myself to my feet and sprinted over to what was left of the archdemon. It was now only a pile of bones and flesh and an awful stench. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was the fragile, fallen figure beside it in mismatched armour. Her helmet had fallen off again and was lying at the other side of the roof. Somehow, her lovely face was unmarred by the violence she had just been subjected to. I flung myself down on my knees beside her, listening and feeling for her breath, praying like I’d never prayed before in my life.

She breathed! It was shallow and halting, but she yet breathed. I could have done a cartwheel for joy. But I swept her into my arms instead, gently pressing her to my heart, more relieved than I had ever been in my life.

Wynne was up and at my shoulder, channeling healing spells into my heroine. The old lady seemed about ready to faint herself, but she was still going strong for Liz. I was rocking back and forth, I suddenly realized, and my face was wet. Probably with the blood of my enemies. If darkspawn bled clear blood. Yes, that was it.

“Is she a-alive?” Alistair stammered, hurrying up finally, Huan pushing his way in too.

“She is alive,” Wynne told him, and he collapsed into a sitting position like a puppet with the strings cut.

“Thank the Maker. Thank the Maker, Andraste, and… everyone who helped us, I guess. Anyway, you really just left me and Huan to clean up the last darkspawn?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two. But they didn’t put up much of a fight, anyway.”

Wynne straightened up, dusting her hands off on her robes. “We should get her off this rooftop. Alistair, would you help-”

“I’ve got her,” I said. No one was taking her from me now. Not the Crows, not the Wardens, not even Alistair for the purposes of helping me get her medical aid. I could carry her. She was so light, even in her armour. How old was she again? I think she told me she had turned nineteen recently. “…You can get her helmet.”

 

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