"Alistair?"
His intent gaze at the fireplace was broken as he turned around to look at the woman who had just entered his chambers.
"You can't sleep either, I take it?"
Stupid question.
"Alistair, we need to talk about something," she said as she delicately placed herself beside him on the chaise longue.
He could tell this wasn't good. He had seen her stare down into the eyes of a dragon, a literal fire-breathing dragon, with less fear in her eyes than was present now. Merely the task of speaking to the one she loved seemed like it was causing her pain.
"That can't be good. What is it? Rats running amok, cheese stores running low? I can take it."
Humor was his first and last defense mechanism. It almost always worked on Elissa, but not this time.
"Alistair, listen to me closely. You know I love you, right?" Her voice broke.
"Of course, my dear, but now I'm really worried. What's wrong?"
"Alistair. I'm not letting you take the killing blow tomorrow. You know that."
He knew this was coming. Instinctively, he started forming his rebuttal in his head. Of course he would sacrifice himself, there was absolutely no question in his mind about that. If there was a choice between this woman dying and himself, there was only one outcome he would accept.
Before he could respond, Elissa spoke up again. "Alistair, you are the king of Fereldan. You are. You are the last of your bloodline. You have no heir. You have a duty to the nation. You are not dying tomorrow, not if any one person on that battlefield can do anything about it."
Deep down, he knew she was right. Though he always understood (and was relieved) that he would never take the throne, he was never allowed to forget his parentage either. Since the death of Cailan, he knew there was a chance, however remote, that he would be called upon to fulfill his obligation. And since accepting it, he knew he had a duty to all of Fereldan.
Reading his thoughts from his expression, Elissa spoke up again. "My love, months ago, when I first began to fall in love with you, Wynne pulled me aside. She asked me if our relationship was wise, as we both had sacred obligations.
"She asked me what I would do if I was made to choose between my duty as a Warden and you. I refused to answer."
This was news to Alistair, but still familiar to him. He had had a nearly identical conversation with Morrigan. It had ended the same way.
Elissa continued. "I assumed such a circumstance would never arise, and if one had, I was sure that I would find some way to both fulfill my duty and keep you. I kept that foolish notion up until our conversation with Riordan."
Large tears were pouring from her eyes, and she was doing nothing to stem the tide.
"My love, I may have a way to keep us both."
Alistair stared at her, taken aback. "If you're suggesting we leave, love, I can't do that—" He had thoroughly explored that option. As tempting as it was, he couldn't leave his country to perish at the hands of the darkspawn.
"No, dear, it's nothing like that. We will kill the Archdemon."
"Then, how...?"
"Morrigan has... a plan."
"Elissa, you know as well as I do that Morrigan—"
"Alistair, I know you two have your differences, but she is my friend. You two may hate each other, but both of you want what's best for me."
He couldn't really deny that, as much as he hated the witch. She was a good friend to Elissa. He considered the earnest look in his love's eyes. "So what's this plan?"
She closed her eyes, taking in a long breath of air. "You would need to... have sex with Morrigan."
Alistair stared at her. "You're joking. This is all an elaborate—"
He stopped, seeing the tortured, tear-stained visage of the woman he loved, staring up at him as if in agony.
"You're not kidding. I don't understand, how would that-?"
"I won't lie to you. It would conceive a child."
"WHAT? No. No. Absolutely not, there is no way. Elissa, what are you talking about? Conceive a child with Morrigan? And how would she know if this works? What if she wants an heir to the throne and—"
Elissa was sobbing now, truly, as Alistair's voice rose. "Alistair, listen to me. Either we go through with this and have a chance to both live, or tomorrow I die—"
"YOU ARE NOT DYING TOMORROW!" He shouted this, not meaning to, as if the passion with which it was asserted would have direct impact on its truth. The Mabari, who had followed his charge into Alistair's room, jumped up with a fierce bark at this exclamation, hackles raised, as the echoes reverberated against the stone walls.
Elissa, clad in only a sleeping gown, her knees pulled up to her chest, was silent as her body was wracked by sobs. Alistair was tortured, watching this sight. He placed a large hand between her shoulder blades. She flinched at first, not expecting it, but softened as he moved closer to her.
As he pulled her tightly to him, he truly considered his situation. Even if he was somehow able to convince Elissa, Eamon, Teagan, Wynne, Riordan, and just about every other person in an advisory role to allow him to take the killing blow and sacrifice himself, that would still mean never having this again. This brilliant, beautiful, warm woman curling up beside him, laughing at his jokes, tucking flowers behind his ears, buying him gifts, making love to him, even arguing with him, snoring in his ear, making faces as she choked down his cooking. He couldn't give that up. He realized now that it wasn't about saving him or her, it was about saving what they had together.
"...Okay. Okay. I'll do it. I don't want to know any more details. I will do it."
He continued to hold Elissa as she got the rest of her tears out. With her face firmly tucked into the curve of his neck, Alistair was free to let tears of his own flow freely.
There was no characteristic sarcasm from Morrigan when the Wardens showed up at the door to her chambers. They were a sorry sight indeed, both stripped of their normal armor, clad in only tearstained nightclothes, four bloodshot, swollen eyes looking pitifully at Morrigan. Ironically, this was perhaps the first time Morrigan saw both as honorable Grey Wardens meeting their sacred obligations. There were no words exchanged between the three at all save for "It will work".
Some time later, Alistair crept into his love's chambers. She lay over the covers, staring at the ceiling. The gentle snores of her Mabari, in the corner, echoed through the room.
He offered no information as he gently lay himself beside her, and she didn't ask. She turned to him, burying her face in his breast, and together they wept.