"Alistair, you can't do this! I won't let you! This is crazy!"
Alistair turned, his willpower breaking at the sight of Aeryn's distraught face. And though every word felt like a blow to his heart, he managed to choke back, "Sanest thing I've ever done." And with that he took Aeryn's face into his hands, gazing into her green eyes, bloodshot from all the smoke and brimming with tears. He kissed her, kissed her like he never had before, savoring the taste of her cracked lips coated with grime and sweat and blood. Before he could surrender to himself, Alistair released her and sprinted towards the Archdemon.
"Wait, Alistair! Please! I love you!" Aeryn called, uncontrollable sorrow etched into every syllable. She tried to stand up, but her injured knee buckled under her weight, and she came crashing to the ground. And even though every fiber of his being willed him to turn around, take her hand, and run away from this god forsaken place, Alistair's legs carried him forward. He couldn't even control his movements anymore; it was as though his mind had locked onto the task at hand and wouldn't let him stray by even the smallest motion. Because that motion would be all it would take for his resolve to crumble to pieces.
Alistair sliced mindlessly through darkspawn, and before he knew it, he was approaching the monstrous Archdemon. It was easy, too easy; the great dragon was lying wounded and defenseless on the ground. It appeared to already be dead. But he knew better… his senses were deceiving him. The Archdemon wasn't dead because it couldn't be. Because he, Alistair, one of the last two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden, was the only force that could end it. Besides Aeryn, he thought. But no, he would not allow her to die while he still lived.
And so Alistair's arms moved for him as he brought the sword down, piercing the dragon's head. As he struck, he felt the blade slice through flesh and crack the demon's skull… and then came the rebound of the hilt. It was as though he delivered the blow onto himself, only magnified by a hundredfold. Alistair was knocked backwards off of his feet and fell onto the hard stone below, the impact cracking nearly every bone in his body. A vast burst of energy erupted from the dragon, illuminating the whole area in a powerful white light.
It's over, Alistair thought as he lay strewn on the stone floor, blood flowing freely from his head. It's all over. He was beyond external pain, yet he could feel the corruption of the Archdemon slowly dying inside of him... maybe it could feel me dying too... and yet these thoughts didn't really bother him. Perhaps he was beyond emotion... But no, as he lay there, feeling the last dregs of life drain out of him, another kind of agony struck his heart. Alistair's mind focused on Aeryn; her crooked smile, her calloused hands, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, the gleam in her eye in battle that so quickly vanished when she was caring for someone... Alistair closed his eyes. She's safe now, he thought. They all are. The Warden felt himself slipping… this was it. He managed to mutter, "Ma'arlath, Aeryn Mahariel…"
And then he was gone.
Those were his last words, spoken with an impossible smile on his face. A smile that Aeryn would never see, and a butchered pronunciation that she would never hear.