Being too much of an Alistair fan girl for my own good, I was quite disappointed by the lack of dialogue and choices etc with him before the final battle. I got this idea from a mod I saw by IRS where you can punch Alistair to stop him from sacrificing himself. I had no intent to publish this but thought i may as well, since it won't be doing anything else just stuck on my computer and other people might enjoy it. I don't actually do any writing, so please forgive me for any big writing faux pas etc. :S
Oh and I own nothing. All characters and such belong to Bioware! Apart from the punch... that belongs to the mod person!
"How about a…kiss goodbye", she breathed, choking on her own words, unable to believe them; not wanting to believe that these were her final moments with him. She stared into his dark amber eyes, seeing nothing but the sting of pain and exhaustion, as tears began to sting in her own. She blinked, letting them roll slowly, down her bloodstained cheek, their damp trails cutting through the dirt of battle that had settled there.
Alistair's eyes softened and he brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs wiping away the now steady flow of tears. He leant closer; pulling her face nearer his own till they were only inches away and he could feel the warm flutter of her breath. He stared deep into her shining emerald eyes, marvelling to himself as he always had, of the life they held within them. He lost himself inside those endless oceans that swirled and danced, deep inside her pupils: for a moment, however brief. They were a small escape from the horrific scene that currently encircled them, threatening to engulf them both forever in an endless, impenetrable darkness. He loved her deeply, in a way that no words could ever justify or explain, that actions could never express. This was why he had to do this: so she could live. To see those eyes lose the life he held so dear to him was something, he neither could, nor would allow. He would deliver the final blow to the Archdemon. He would sacrifice himself for her.
He rested his forehead upon hers, his thumbs traced back and forth in a soft whisper across her damp cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she felt his brow furrow, in confusion, frustration and anger. Both had known this day would come, and yet it was harder to bear than either could have conceived. He placed his lips on hers, tenderly at first. His hands moved up through her glowing auburn hair, newly matted with a potent mixture of dirt and blood: his fingers entangling themselves within the strands at the nape of her neck. Her lips were soft and warm like always and time stood still. He was taken back to that night in camp when he had first kissed her, remembering the hope he had felt and the happiness he had found in her. The thought of them living the remainder of their lives together after the end of the blight, blissful and happy, had been a shining light in the darkness. Although it was a meagre chance that both would survive, it was a dream, a life he was willing to fight for. She was wholeheartedly his, and in that moment he never wanted to let her go. Never wanted their embrace to end.
The news that death would take hold of the Grey Warden that struck the killing blow, had pierced him like a knife to his chest. He couldn't breathe. Why had Duncan not told him? How could he not? His last hope had been with Riordan, having offered to deal the killing blow himself. However their fellow Grey Warden had fallen only moments ago, and now Alistair's hope was completely gone, like a candle snuffed out by a strong breeze. It was down to either one of them and he felt a strange emptiness that he could not understand, yet there was love, overwhelming and incomprehensible, tearing at his heart like teeth on flesh. The thought of not being with her, never holding her again, never seeing her beautiful smile or the way she giggled at his ramblings and stupid jokes, made his heart ache more than any injury he received from battle. She was the only person that had ever understood him, ever allowed him to be himself. She made him feel home.
She placed her hands on his breastplate, dented and slippery to the touch: a fresh layer of sticky black blood soaking onto her palms. She felt for his heartbeat, but it did not reach her through his armour. The kiss became more urgent, as they poured themselves into each other, giving way to fear and knowing of what must be done. Their hearts soared together, each beat fervently and desperately making silent promises to the other, of endless love and their assured reunion in one form or another. Her breath hitched as a sob escaped her lips, unrelenting as the grief welled up in her throat. His arms moved to wrap round her waist, as he pulled her as close as they could physically be. Despite the Archdemon she knew to be nearby, the hordes of Darkspawn that had descended upon them and the countless number of fallen comrades that lay strewn around them; she felt a sudden pang of contentment settle upon her in his embrace. She wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in his touch and his warmth. They could run away, shamed and outcast for not fulfilling their duty as Grey Wardens, but what would that matter? At least they would be alive, together for a while at least before the blight would eventually takeover the whole of Ferelden: but at least together. Here only one of them could go where the other couldn't.
The time they had spent together had been fleeting. Amid duties of defending Ferelden against the Blight, love had blossomed for them unexpectedly. She was grateful that after the murder of her entire family, Alistair was able to bring her back to life. He brought her out of the depths of her despair and allowed her to experience something true, in the form of a love that knew no bounds. But she was thinking selfishly. This was her duty. This was her fate and she resigned herself to it once more, as a lurid mix of grief and fear settled in the pit of her stomach again: washing over her in an almost unbearable force. As her breath hitched again, their lips parted, both falling back to reality and despair.
"I love you", she sobbed as she struggled to breathe, still in his arms.
"I love you too" he choked. "Always."
She gazed up into his beautiful dark amber eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back as she slowly and reluctantly released her hands from around his waist. She brought a hand up to graze softly through his short blonde hair, as he closed his eyes at her touch.
"I'm sorry Alistair," she mouthed silently as her other hand gripped the blunt hilt of her dagger, bringing it up swiftly towards his face. It connected just above his temple, sending him sprawling to the stone floor unconscious. She looked upon her love with doting eyes one final time, sending a silent prayer up to the maker for him, before reluctantly turning on her heel to face the Archdemon. She threw her dagger to the ground beside her, clattering loudly as it hit the stone floor. She felt an intense anger rising up from her stomach, engulfing her like wildfire as it spread throughout her body. She didn't ever want to leave his side, but it was the only way to save him.
The Archdemon was writhing around, crazed and reckless, whipping its tail and spewing fire in every direction. She saw her companions: Wynne, Leliana, Morrigan, Sten, Zev and Oghren, all valiantly fighting the creature, exhausted and blood soaked, their efforts slowly waning. She sent each of them a silent message from her heart, full of thanks and love. They became her closest friends: her shining lights on the dark roads that they had travelled to get to this moment.
She inhaled deeply and willed herself on. She was afraid to die, but at least she was not afraid to admit it. She knew the fade would bring her peace, and there she would be reunited with her family once again. She would feel no grief in the fade, only joy for allowing her Alistair to live, but it seemed an impossible comfort. Her chest felt tight as she fought back sobs. She felt her heart wrenching in protest of leaving Alistair behind. Her mind screamed as she set into a jog, her breath laboured, as it fought to pass the lump in her throat. She pushed herself, gathering speed as every limb, muscle and joint in her body seemed to burn and flare in exhaustion, contorting in dispute. Tears streamed down her face as she allowed herself to cry openly, releasing all the strain in her chest. As she ran passed a bloodied corpse of one of Fort Drakons guards, she grabbed the hilt of the sword protruding from his chest and pulled it out, wielding it high above her head. She cried, not only for all the things she didn't do, all the things she would miss; but also for the wonderful things she had experienced. And Alistair. Of course: Alistair...
As she neared the Archdemon's clawed talons, she let out a cry that resounded with such force; many turned their gaze from the dragon. She leapt up high into the air, soaring towards the Archdemon's head; her feet landing skilfully on its scaly skin as she plunged the sword down into its skull, right to the hilt. Suddenly a pillar of brilliant white light burst upwards from the dragon's fatal wound, into the sky above, hungry to escape its caged prison. It roared with intensity, making the foundations of Fort Drakon and the earth below it shake and the clouds part. The monster let out a harrowing shriek, aware of its defeat and succumbing to its demise, as the hero's companions looked on. The warden let out a sharp cry as she felt her body envelope in an agony that felt like flames erupting through her skin. She felt the Archdemon's soul. A truly terrifying pure evil that painfully snaked it's way through her veins, clawing at her insides. It clutched to her own soul like a parasite and an unbearable turmoil tore at her heart, threatening to burst in her chest as the two forces warred against one another. Then there was just darkness.
Alistair's eyes flew open as the deafening noise reached his ears, feeling the stone floor shake beneath him. He looked up to see a shaft of brilliant white light, shooting up from atop the Archdemon's head as it flailed helplessly. Then he saw her. He looked on helplessly, watching her limp figure plummet toward the ground. He heard the impact and he scrambled to his feet, running to her lifeless body as it lay strewn and smeared with blood. The Archdemon writhed, lashing its tail weakly as it finally fell with a thunderous crash to the floor.
Alistair threw himself down beside her, scooping her body up in his arms and pulling her desperately to his chest. Her finger twitched as he felt her last breath escape her body. Her head fell limply against his neck, as tears flooded down his cheeks. 'No...no...' he sobbed, as his voice shook with anger and grief as both collided within, overwhelming him entirely. Alistair clung to her with all his might, willing her to come back to him and praying to the Maker, but the hero's eyes were empty and bereft of life. Nothing resided within them any longer. He kissed her forehead lightly and buried his face into her hair, his shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs. 'I love you,' he whispered. 'Always..'.
Their companions looked on them both, spilling silent tears for their fallen friend, as the cheers of victory spread throughout the streets of Denerim.
Thanks for reading! :)