I was covered in blood.
Every part of me was drenched in it. Yet, I could still feel a small area of my face where I was untouched by its warmth. I wondered how much of my own blood covered me. I didn't probe along my skin to find out. I was too much in pain. Every cell – every particle of my body ached with a fervency that I've never felt before. I was so undoubtedly bruised that I wondered what I even looked like from the outside – if I looked all black and blue like I felt. I suppose it didn't matter now.
Our armies had been decimated. I watched it happen as we tore at the darkspawn with our swords and arrows. It happened slowly, but it happened. Men, elves, dwarves… they all fell one by one, right after another. I summoned all of them when I realized how dire our situation really was. I had been foolish. It never occurred to me that the Archdemon could summon forces of its own. At least, not that many. It took every bit of strength inside me to signal for back up – I felt like I was ordering half of Fereldan to its death. And maybe I was. But, that was to be expected.
No one said anything about getting out alive.
I started to stir. The pain what racked my body was nearly incapacitating, but the adrenaline from the battle beforehand hadn't left my vessel yet. There was still some fight left in me. Steadying my hands by my sides, I pushed myself upright, grunting as I did so. My cracked armor bit into my flesh, and I clamped my teeth down on my tongue to keep from crying out. But, I was up. Opening my blood-stained eyes, my vision blurred just a bit before leveling out so that I could see my surroundings. It was just as I had thought.
Bodies were everywhere. Some dead, and some alive. Most of them were men – human men, though I could certainly see a number of elves particularly, out in the battlefield, and seemingly buried into the stone ground. My stomach churned with bile as I took in all of the Death around me. It was everywhere – splattered onto the ground, the fort's walls, its tapestries…
Frantically, I started searching the place. Please, oh please, oh please, oh please. Don't let me find them. Don't let me find Morrigan. Don't let me find Wynne. Don't let me find him…
I used what little strength I had left in me and pushed myself to my feet, wobbling a little as I did so. I was able to walk freely and steadily. As I did, I picked up my pace, looking around for my friends. I looked among the dead first and foremost. I could feel my blood slow and turn to ice inside of my veins. Don't let them be there, don't let them be there, don't let them be there!
Peering behind one of the castle's walls, I caught a glimpse of a robe – a flash of red and nothing more. I quickly turned the corner and saw Wynne on her back, her hand outstretched and clutching Morrigan's, who rested right beside her. I thought that they were dead but when I reached down and dug my fingers into their throats, I could feel their thrumming pulses and was able to feel at ease, at least, for a moment. Crouching low to the ground, I sat next to my friends and watched them for a while with their chests rising up and down. I brushed Morrigan's hair back from her face, feeling my throat instantly close up as I did. I didn't want her to go. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want her to take his baby and leave Fereldan. Granted, I didn't want her to have his baby either, but regardless, I wanted her to stay. She was my best friend. My sister, even. Trailing my fingers over her forehead, I gazed at her face for what seemed like countless moments before looking over my shoulder and over towards Wynne. I was saying goodbye.
Without hesitating, I leaned over and kissed both of their cheeks before getting to my feet once more and turning my back on my friends.
"Goodbye, Wynne… Morrigan."
Feeling the lump in my throat grow larger, I shuffled over to where I had previously been lying. I thought about my other companions who I wouldn't get to say farewell to. Sten, Leliana, Zevran, Shale… Sir, my old mutt. I deliberately kept them out of the final battle so that I wouldn't have to see them killed like I had so many others. Morrigan and Wynne knew from the very beginning of their journeys with me that I would need them, and so they were more than willing to come with me to fight the Blight. However, that didn't mean that I cared for them all unequally. I loved each and every one of them. They all made our trek all the more worthy to me, and I knew that I owed them my life. I wouldn't have gotten this far without them. I thought about this as broken metal and glass crunched underneath my leather boots.
But… I knew what needed to be done. The battle wasn't over just yet.
With all the hate and rage I could possibly feel in this body, I turned my gaze over towards the far side of the Fort, where the Old God lay. He was still alive, but only just. Blood seeped from the wounds that covered his scaly skin, and his breathing was strong, but labored. He didn't move beyond that, as if knew what was coming to him.
I wanted to strike him down just as I saw him. I couldn't yet, however. I needed to find somebody else.
Or did I?
Wouldn't it be easier to leave him without saying goodbye at all? Did he really deserve a tearful goodbye after all that he's been through? Could he honestly handle that? If I was being perfectly sincere with myself, I didn't know if I even could. Maybe it would be best to not say goodbye to him at all. Maybe I should just do what I needed to do and get it over with.
Yeah. It's the best thing for all of us.
I started off towards the Archdemon.
My heart started pounding, pounding, pounding in my chest. I could feel my own blood swirl around in the cavity there, along with tiny bits of new adrenaline. I was ready. I was ready to do this. No problem.
As I neared the Old God, all I could smell was Death. It stank all around him like rotten meat on a summer's day. His breath was so foul I thought I might faint, and I wasn't even close enough to strike him, yet. I could see his massive eyelid flutter open at me, however. He stirred, but collapsed and let out a long sigh, as if he admitted his own defeat. I neared closer…
And closer…
Even closer…
If I started running now, I would be able to reach the Archdemon's head if I jumped upwards. One swing would be all it would take. Then, nothing.
I let one foot step backwards and spaced the other apart. And then, I darted forward.
"No!"
The air was crushed out of my lungs as something tackled me hard to the ground. My head scraped against broken stone and ash, and my ribs felt like they were newly broken. I could hear my sword graze into rock far away from me - far enough so that I wouldn't be able to confront my attacker.
I was so stunned that I felt all fuzzy for a few moments, and that's when things got dark.
"No! Lyna, oh no. Lyna, please wake up. Please wake up! No, no, no!"
I woke up the sound of an angel, its voice all hoarse from screaming at me. What is it? What was the matter?
Then, a warm hand wrapped itself around my head, cushioning my skull from the solidness beneath me. I felt my body being propped up and my head hanging over the side of someone's arm. The body next to mine was blazing hot, and I appreciated its warmth as I tried to figure out what was going on. I didn't know, though I could feel another hand wrap around my waist, steadying me even further.
Alistair?
Finally, my eyes were able to open. It was him, and his face was deathly pale, though I could spot a dim color in the center of his cheeks. His brows were pulled together and he clenched his jaw so hard I thought his teeth might break. It looked as if he was holding his breath. Why?
"Alistair…? What's… going on…?"
"Lyna!"
Alistair then crushed my body to his so that my chin rested on one of his shoulders. I remained limp in his arms and he brought his confused face back to mine a moment later. His eyes burned with grief.
"How could you, Lyna? How could you be so stupid? You're so stupid! And selfish!"
He stopped, his voice breaking with emotion. I didn't realize what he was talking about until he crushed me against him again. He started shaking as if he was cold, and he didn't let me go, not even after several silent moments. He just held me in his arms, shivering.
"Alistair? Alistair!"
He released me, but only just. I couldn't move beyond what he allowed me.
"Alistair, let me go."
His brows arched high up, and he shook his perfect face, golden hair falling just over his ears.
"You're not going anywhere. Forget it."
I scoffed at his words and attempted to scramble out of his lap, but I couldn't. He was stronger than me.
"Alistair, I mean it."
"No, Lyna." His eyes suddenly went hard.
I sighed, pushing back the curls from my neck.
"Alistair, I have to do this."
He shivered again underneath me. "No, you don't."
"Oh, really? Then who? Who's going to do it, hm? Enlighten me, Alistair, because there are only two of us left."
His mouth opened as if he were going to reply, but he shut it again.
"I'll do it."
I went cold at his words.
"No."
"I'm older than you, Lyna. The next eldest is the one who should do it. Riordan clearly instructed this before he died."
"I'm your captain, Alistair."
His steely brown eyes bore into mine and I had to force myself not to look away from him. I've never seen him this angry before.
"No."
I needed to find a way to talk him into letting me do what I needed to do. I just didn't know how. So, I acted on a gut reaction. I grabbed his neck and pulled it forward so that I could crush my lips against his. At first, he froze underneath my grasp like stone, but then his resolve finally dissolved and he leaned into the kiss, putting his hand in my hair.
I truly didn't know what I was doing. At first, the kiss was merely a ploy so that I could escape from his hold on me and strike down the Archdemon - and in doing so, killing myself. Because, that's what happens when a Grey Warden slays an Old God. They die. And we didn't find this out until Riordan told us at the beginning of this battle. The problem was, he died. And now it was me or Alistair. I refused to let him sacrifice himself for me. No. It just wasn't happening.
I thought about this while Alistair's mouth was hot against mine, and even when he pulled my side into his abdomen. A simple trick turned into so much more so quickly. It was too much of a goodbye. But, to who, was yet to be determined. I started crying.
Alistair pulled away when one of my teardrops landed on his cheek. He looked confused for a moment before his face crumbled in anguish, and he bit his lip to keep from joining me in my emotional torment.
"Lyna… No."
I felt a sob escape my throat and lurching forward from its force.
"Please? Alistair… please!"
He bowed his head and breathed in through his nose. I thought that I had finally convinced him when he brought his gaze back to mine. It was clear that he would never let me sacrifice myself for him.
I knew what I had to do.
"Okay, Alistair. Okay."
I moved to get out of his grasp and he was reluctant to let me go, his hands half-heartedly tugging on my body. I was able to stand up though and he joined me as well, his hands still on me.
I looked up and studied his face. It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect. He had high cheekbones and coffee painted eyes. His jaw was exquisitely squared and he had brilliant white teeth, which contrasted superbly with his golden hair. It was short and cropped, though it had grown some over the course of the months we had been traveling. I kept looking at him until he asked what I was thinking.
"Nothing. I'm just… nothing."
That was when I finally tore my eyes away from him. I searched for my sword underneath his scrutiny, so I had to be careful where and how urgently I looked. To my dismay, it was out of my reach. I'd never be able to grab it in time. I was fast, but Alistair was almost a perfect match in speed.
"Lyna… I love you."
I felt my head snap back in his direction. What? No. No, no, no. No more goodbyes.
He ducked his face and brought it down to mine, pressing his lips once more to mine, but this time, gentler. When he pulled away I could see tears in his eyes, though he looked away so that I wouldn't notice. He began to turn on his heel and step towards the Old God just a few yards away from us.
I would not let him do this! No!
Rushing with new found strength, I sprung forward and closed my hand on his sword, drawing it out of his hilt before sprinting as fast as I could towards the dying Archdemon. I could hear Alistair scream behind me, his voice coming closer, and closer, and closer. I wouldn't make it!
I pressed harder, though so did he. I could almost feel his body touching mine. Go, Lyna. Go for him! Save him! Save Alistair!
As we drew nearer to the dying beast, I couldn't help but feel a new pair of hands encircle my own, intertwining with my fingers as our blade cut forward and into the flesh of the Old God.