H-h-hello?

*Ducks pan being thrown at head*

Look look look! I'm super sorry about falling off the face off the earth! I've been meaning to update Unlikely Alliance and Fate, just things in life right now are a little bit hard and Year 12 at school has been really busy, leaving me little time for anything but school and assignments!

But the good news is that this little (super depressing!) piece has awoken my fanfiction side and may inspire me to take up the keyboard once again! So please, have patience and keep dreaming and wishing! :D Because I have no intention of leaving those two fics unfinished (I would be eaten alive otherwise!)

This is for a competition that I wrote severly last minute, so I hope you enjour ;)

Ta Ta 3

Shadow

A Final Farewell

This was the night. The night that it was going to happen. But that didn't mean he had to get out of bed just yet. Rebelliously, the royal King of Ferelden let out a loud gasping yawn, lazily scratched at the top of his head and then flopped unceremoniously onto his stomach. Just five more min-oooh! Alistair opened his eyes with an instinctive shock as the fine silk sheets covering him were tugged free, exposing him to the cold air of the underground.

Fighting the bewilderment of sleep, he lunged to his bedside in search of his dagger to protect himself from whatever enemy had stolen its way into his bedchambers and was about to attack him in his sleep. What could it be? A darkspawn? A crying baby? The mere prospect of a crying baby darkspawn was terrifying to say the least. He blinked his eyes from sleep and was about to lunge forth at his attacker with a fierce battle cry. But a soft musical laugh informed him that his attacker was not really an attacker at all. Not in the homicidal sense, anyway.

"Is that a dagger you're holding, my king, or are you just happy to see me?"

Feeling a deep red shade spread out over his face, Alistair seized another of the sheets he had slept on previously and hauled them upwards to cover himself. The fox haired woman that stood before him gave another mirthful chuckle, daintily covering her mouth with one hand. Despite his awkwardness, Alistair couldn't help but sheepishly grin back at the royal Queen of Ferelden. Curses, he could never stay mad at anyone.

"Oh, my dear, did you have to do that? Did you really have to do that?" whined Alistair, feeling a shiver run over his muscles. He hastily heaved the covers over himself further before giving a final shudder.

"Oh honey, if I didn't wake you up, who would?"

Brianna shrugged her shoulders indifferently and moved a lock of scarlet hair out of her eyes, the smirk on her face widening. Alistair watched the gesture with a warm smile on his face, but as his eyes moved down the smile faded to a grimace of dread. Brianna seemed to have awoken from their daytime siesta earlier than he had and dressed in her old silverite plated armour in preparation. One of her most infamous habits was to become crazy-prepared when she was worried and then just sit and wait for the dreaded deed to meet her. Alistair, of course, was much more laid-back when it came to confronting problems. But this problem couldn't be defeated by sarcastic and witty remarks.

Alistair sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I see… that you're already in battle mode."

Brianna's face fell, a sad look coming into her eyes as she silently moved to the side of the giant bed which Alistair was sitting on. She sat down beside him and took one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing it in reassurance. Despite the comfort that the squeeze was supposed to give, a resounding coldness spread throughout Alistair's heart.

"We can't outrun this, Alistair. You know we can't."

Alistair nodded in grim acceptance. "I know we can't. I just didn't think it would be so soon."

Merely a month ago, Brianna had been jolted awake by Alistair thrashing beside her wildly, screaming out in his sleep as his eyes rolled in his head. She had held him for what seemed like hours to calm him down before he could tell her what the nightmares were. Destruction. Death. And worst of all; plenty and plenty of darkspawn. The Old Gods were whispering to him as he slept, their mesmerizing and violent voices beckoning him to the Deep Roads and to his looming fate. Alistair had finally received the Calling, and he had no choice but to answer. Brianna had listened to his cries and ramblings before she decided that whether it was her time or not, she would accompany Alistair as he answered the call. Her plan was compromised by a string of dark visions she had begun to experience at all hours of the day during their travel to Orzammer; merely a week ago, the nightmares had begun to plague her sleep. That was the last straw; both Grey Wardens had been marked for death.

"It was bound to happen to us sooner than most Grey Wardens," said Brianna wistfully. She gently took a hold of his arm and brought him to his feet, simply the promise of a near demise making both Grey Wardens shiver uncomfortably. "But," Brianna began as she turned away, "I intend on going out fighting."

She walked to a nearby stand where Alistair's armour was resting and took a pair of linen trousers from the pile of clothing. She turned again to find that Alistair had silently walked up behind her, a cheeky glint on his face that stirred a fire in her eyes. Without warning, he softly took hold of her cheek and tilted it slightly, closing the distance with a gentle kiss. Brianna's eye lashes fluttered as she let out a deep and content sigh, being jerked out of bliss when Alistair playfully snatched the trousers from her loose grip and tugged them on.

"There's the spirit, love," Alistair purred in a roughish voice, his teasing smirk making the corners of Brianna's lips flick upwards impishly. She ripped a clean linen shirt off the rack and roughly pulled it over Alistair's head despite his complaints, fastening her lips to his once she had pulled his head through the hole of the shirt. At that, Alistair made no complaint. He took hold of her in his arms and embraced her affectionately, only for her to slyly poke him in the ribs and dance backwards. She tutted mockingly at him and waggled her finger as she scolded him.

"I'll have none of that, your highness! It took me a lot of effort to get into this armour and I'm not letting you get me out!"

Alistair's grin widened as he stalked forward, "Oh yeah? Was that supposed to be a petty challenge?"

As he lunged forward to close the distance between them, Brianna let out a happy squeal of delight as she jumped back and defended herself with an armoured boot, poking the pointed toe into his stomach menacingly. Alistair sighed and took the boot from her, giving her a swift peck on the cheek before she could refuse.

The practice of swapping a part of armour and a kiss or caress continued throughout Alistair's routine of getting dressed, giggles and laughs emitting from the two of them as they enjoyed their last moment together away from all the darkspawn and the Old Gods. It was a moment that was truly theirs and not a single damn thing in the world could steal that away from them. Much to Alistair's disappointment there was no removal of any armour.

"I wish I had another rose for you," Alistair sighed wistfully as Brianna tightened a final strap. The joy of their moment had passed him now, leaving only emptiness when he realized what he would be missing the most.

Brianna took hold of his face gently and used her fingers to manipulate his pout into a crude grin. "Maybe we'll find one down there," she said in a whisper, before giving Alistair one final kiss, begging the tears behind her eyes to stay hidden. The kiss continued for what seemed like a lifetime before they finally inched apart and stared into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Alistair Theirin," said one.

"I love you, Brianna Cousland," said the other.

Delicately, Brianna took hold of one of Alistair's hands and led him to the door of their chambers, opening the door with an ominous clunk. She looked back at him with a fierce glint in her eyes that inspired courage in Alistair, and he willingly followed her through the doorway. Their final moment would be their last, not as monarchs or Grey Wardens, but as themselves. And their final farewell to each other would be their final words before they died.

Alistair wouldn't have it any other way.