A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins.
Warden's Demise
He couldn't entirely say when it had first started. He had been going about his duty as Commander of the Wardens in Ferelden when they came, no longer was he able to ignore them or escape their clutch during his waking hours. Voices, whispers calling to him were always present.
He knew then that his time had come, his calling.
There were no celebrations to be had. He appointed another to command the Grey Wardens of Ferelden in his stead, gathered what would be needed for his trip to Orzammar and in the dead of night left, without a backwards glance, he left what had been his home for years, and began his journey to the Deep Roads. The last journey he would take on Thedas.
-X-
Lothering. It was a mess, refuges swarmed its ground. Templars turned them away from the Chantry, what most saw as their salvation.
Even the Tavern, a place he knew to rarely be quiet; filled with the noise of gossip and laughter. Yet, all he found as he entered was a sombre silence; people sat about their tables whispering among them of rumours spreading like wild fire within Fereldan's borders.
"Grey Warden traitors"
"Blight"
"Fallen King"
"Traitors!" He heard that, it was no whisper. Approached by three men, armed and armoured he felt his muscle clench knowing a conflict was waiting to happen.
"Grey Warden traitors!" He continued. "He warned of us of you, he did. You killed the King!" The man drew, weapons glinting in the candle-lit tavern and a gasp following the patrons, their attentions now drawn conflict.
He knew the conflict about to transpire would be unavoidable, he would have to kill or be killed and he couldn't afford to leave Fereldan without a Grey Warden. Before he was able to speak, to even try and defuse the situation he was beaten. A soft voice. A beautiful voice one he couldn't quite understand but knew. He knew it was beautiful. One he would come to love, but he couldn't hear it. He watched her lips moved, the face holding them was fuzzy, blurring at the edges.
So intent on this figure was he, he didn't notice whatever she had been saying hadn't worked. His attention drawn to the sword rapidly closing the distance that separated them he knew he wouldn't be fast enough, so distracted by the mysterious figure he'd been caught unaware. He raised his arm, praying to the Maker it would be, vowing to allow such an event to never transpire again, he wouldn't fail his duty.
-X-
He awoke with a gasp, his arm outstretched and raised to block a blow that wasn't there. He felt the burn of tears in his eyes as he recalled his dream. Memory he corrected himself with a snarl, hands swiping at his eyes furiously. He hated them, despised them not only had he lost her presence in his life, he was losing the memory of her.
No longer could he picture her features, features he knew to be beautiful and captivating. Her voice, one he knew he could listen to without protest for hours, no longer was he able to hear it. He had lost her, so many years ago and felt as if he were losing her all over again.
He had been spared the whispers of Archdemons, the nightmare that was Darkspawn that haunted his mind when he slept, only for it to be traded off with what he found to be a harsher demon, one of his own and the painful realisation that he was truly losing her, he would soon have nothing but a memory of a person he once knew, and loved.
Breathing deeply, he pushed it aside. Soon. He told himself; soon he would be free of the demons that chased him.
He left his makeshift camp-site. He was close to Orzammar, close enough that he would be at the Deep Roads within the next few hours; he had no need for it. A passer-by would consider themselves lucky, coming across it.
He would be within the Deep Roads soon. He would fulfil the last of his duties; he would honour his family name. He done what was needed of him by the Wardens, he had claimed the vengeance of his family's slaughtered.
He allowed himself to look as he truly felt. He was no longer the Hero of Ferelden, the Grey Warden who ended the Blight. He was a man, tired and worn from accomplishing what was asked of him, no longer did he hide behide a façade that he was a man of triumph.
He walked head-bowed, shoulders-slumped to the gates of Orzammar, past its many citizens going about their daily lives. Only when he found himself at the entrance to the Deep Roads, the same one he had taken all those years ago to end the Blight that had led to his uprise as The Warden, did he stop. He found himself staring at what was to become his tomb, where he would find his demise.
-X-
It was his favourite place in Ferelden. It was unnamed. It was a simple scrap of grassland, on the side of the road that led to Denerim. One he hadn't expected to set eyes on again.
"With you, I know I am safe." It was voice, the one he knew he adored, but could no longer recall. He could hear the words, but no longer put them to the voice he had loved. He didn't feel the common surge of anger that followed the realization. He was dreaming again, he knew it. Recalling an event he held dear but that lacked detail he so deeply wanted, needed. "Sometimes, I succumb and fall asleep, and wake to find you still watchful. And I know you're watching out for me."
He felt her lean against his shoulder, he watched, intent on recalling something, anything about her. Her features were unrecognisable; they were blurry at the edges. He could only make out the head of hair, short and barely reaching her shoulders. Its fiery red strands as bright as the fire in front of them.
""You never have to feel afraid with me." He heard himself say. It hurt to hear himself speak those words, in the end they had be a lie, he had done much of that to her, this person he had claimed to love and adore; lie. He had told her she would be safe with him, that he would protect her and he hadn't.
He taunted himself; he would often recall memories, dream of them as if he were watching it from a distance, unaware and unable to shape them in any way he'd wish.
He would watch, and have himself reminded of his lies, of his failures. Sleep no longer brought with it the promise of rest, or peace.
He was pulled from his inner-thinking; back to what he now knew was a memory playing out, it's only purpose to deliver the point that he had failed, that he had not succeeded where he should have.
"And I... love you. It's so wonderful to say that to someone again." He felt pain, red hot pain shoot through his entire being as he heard those words, the voice behide it still unrecognisable. He saw blackness at the edge of his vision. Pain, pain it was all he could feel.
-X-
Pain. It was all he could feel, it was like his entire body was on fire. He was leant against the wall of a tunnel. Blackness all around him, he could feel them to surrounding him. Darkspawn. He had survived, barely if his body was to anything to go by.
He had encountered Darkspawn, many of them. He had fought, unwilling to go down easily. He would fight, tooth and nail to take as many of them with him. They would pay for the pain they'd cause him to experience.
His left arm lay uselessly against his side. An arrow imbedded in the shoulder. His armour scraped and dug uncomfortable against his skin. He was alive, barely. His blood was pooling at his feet, trickling freely from the many scratches the Darkspawn's blades had landed.
He moved forward, unable to suppress the grunts and growls of pain and frustration. He was weak, but he wasn't beaten, yet. He could take more of them with him; he would take more of them with him.
He came to an opening, how wide he wasn't sure. It was still dark; he could barely make out his Sword, outstretched in his right hand in front of him. He felt them; all around him though how close they actually were he wasn't certain.
He saw it then, the Emissary it was clear it wasn't seeking to remind hidden. It's magic lit the cavern. Slowly, from behide it's back Hurlocks and Gunlocks filed into the room.
He watched them, as they let lose guttural glows and snapped their teeth, the sounds echoing off the cavern's walls. They were ready; they wanted to sink their blade into the human's body in front of them.
He prepared himself as they charged, the Emissary letting out an almighty growl that seemed to signal the chaos. He put every ounce of strength left behide him in his swings, his slashing through air and foul flesh alike.
A sharp whistle and a thunk, accompied with the flare of pain alerted to him the fact he'd taken another arrow. His strength was waning, adrenalin alone no longer able to overcome the pain his body was subject too. He felt the jagged blades of the Darkspawn, knicking his armour, slicing into his flesh.
He advanced still. Darkspawn now surrounding him, climbing over their fallen brethren to get to the lone Warden. The Emissary, that was his target. He could see it, only a metre ahead of him. It's head thrown back, letting out a cackle as it took in the events in front of it.
He bared his teeth, his own yell joining that of the Darkspawn's and the sounds of weapons clashing; sinking into flesh. He was so close when he felt the blade sink into his thigh, unable to contain the cry of pain that escaped his lips as he fell, crashing to the floor at the feet of the Emissary, it's cackling still sounding above the noise of his fellow Darkspawn.
He was weak, too weak. Unable to find the strength to push him to his feet, he bared his teeth. The pain excruciating as he felt the blades of the Darkspawn piercing the metal encasing his body, sinking into his flesh.
He was done. Finished. Free.
-X-
"What is meant by 'someone like me?'" Leliana asked. A twinkle in her eyes, one he'd become use to, she was quite mischievous. It was part of her appeal. He could forget about his trouble, about the looming threat of the Blight, even if only for a while when he spoke to Leliana.
"You know, a beautiful charming woman like yourself." He replied. Unable to contain the smug smile he felt making itself known as she paused, caught out, if only for a brief moment.
"And there are no beautiful, charming women in the cloisters, you think? Oh, you would be wrong." She spoke, her accent caressing each word. It was then realised. He heard it. It wasn't as if it were himself speaking the words. "There were many lovely young initiates in the Lothering cloister-all of them chaste and virtuous. Ah, it added to their mystique." She continued. He heard her giggle; it was quiet, and short. It was a noise he'd come to love dearly during their time spent together. "Because then... then they were forbidden, and forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?" Leliana finished, her attention drawn to him. Her equally fiery eyebrows lifted in question, her attention no longer on the surrounding land as they walked, but on him.
He remembered it all. It was so sudden; it all came back in a rush, every memory, and every feature on the face of the woman he had loved. It wasn't only the voice that was once again recognisable to him. He had found his woman, his love. He had done his duty and been rewarded by the Maker. He had his memories back, he hadn't lost her, not completely.
"No my love. I am not only a memory." She reached out, clasping the Warden's hand in her own. "The Maker has brought us together again." She pressed herself against his side, her head coming to rest atop his shoulder as they continued their stroll, to where he wasn't sure.
This was no memory, at least not yet.
-X-
A/N: Hi! I've always loved reading, and after buying the Dragon Age Ultimate edition on a Steam sale my love for Dragon Age was rebooted. After reading a bunch of other's stories, I thought I'd finally give my own a shot. I thought it best I start with some One-shots, so. This is one of many, maybe! I'm looking mostly to work on and improve my writing before maybe moving onto stories with chapters. ^^
Apologise for any spelling/grammar or otherwise baddies in the writing – Still fairly new to this and after a few looksy at some Google Guides. ( : ) I figured I'd just give it a shot. I'd really appreciate any reviews with some tips, or criticism! I tried to keep it as a sorta faceless/nameless Warden with only a few lines hinting to it being a Cousland. Is that preferable, or using my own better? I can't decide!
Twine X