not to be full of myself, but I love this story. I hope you do too. :D
my Grey Warden's name is Aimayu, pronounced "Aye-my-you" (it's pretend Dalish).
anyway, please read and review! I'd love to know what you think.
A beacon of light emanated from the dragon's wound as Aimayu plunged the great sword across its bloody neck, piercing the stormy red sky. Her teammates watched it all happen from several yards away—her lithe body was concealed by the blinding light, growing brighter and brighter until a sudden force ripped out of the archdemon's body. The blast send a wave of energy; it immediately knocked everyone on the tower onto their backs, even knocking a few darkspawn off of Fort Drakon entirely.
All across the city of Denerim, the powerful explosion caught the attention of soldiers and darkspawn alike. The darkspawn retreat began, all of them desperate and confused without the archdemon to lead them. Cheers erupted from the Ferelden soldiers as the cloud of energy atop Fort Drakon slowly dispersed, until it disappeared entirely.
Zevran got up from the rooftop floor, his head dizzy, searching for the body of Aimayu with restrained panic. He found her, lying motionless about ten feet from the corpse of the archdemon. Her leather helmet was knocked off her head, revealing her beautiful blond hair. He knelt on one knee, brushing her wispy bangs from eyes, and lifted her head carefully.
Ayu was peacefully still despite their surroundings, like she was having a pleasant afternoon nap while covered in blood.
"Wake up, Ayu!" Zevran urged fiercely. "It's over. You did it, now open your eyes." He shook her shoulders gently, waiting for a response.
Ayu finally stirred, groaning and blinking her amethyst eyes at him, lifting her hand to her forehead and wincing.
"That damn d-dragon…" she muttered incoherently.
Zevran nearly laughed with relief. He lifted her into a sitting position; his gloved hand gently supporting her head, and gave her a passionate kiss on her delicate, and bloody, lips. Ayu passed out in his arms shortly, her head lolling against his armored chest. Zevran sighed and shook his head, a smile playing on his lips while he looked down at her serene unconscious form. Ayu's lips were slightly parted, her bloody, blond hair tangled, and her cheeks and forehead had a feverish color about them. He hoisted her into his arms and looked around for his other companions.
Zevran had known she would not perish from the final blow on the archdemon. Aimayu had told him of Morrigan's ritual during their stay at Redcliffe castle, before the last time they had enjoyed each other's company prior to their march to Denerim.
"I might actually survive this whole thing, if Morrigan is right." Ayu had told him hopefully, fidgeting with her wavy white-blond hair as she sat on the edge of her bed.
Both elves were weakly illuminated by the warm glow of two candles, casting eerie shadows around the room. Arl Eamon had given Aimayu one of the nicest guest rooms, one that she eagerly invited Zevran to share with her.
"You will, I am sure of it. Morrigan is not one to lie about something as serious as this, no? And you know how she cares for you," He replied coolly, soothing her doubts.
Zevran was lying on the other side of the great bed in only his leather trousers. He pulled her backwards towards him, so her head rested on his firm abdomen. Ayu immediately felt better at his touch, and closed her eyes. It had been an outrageously stressful few weeks for her what with the landsmeet, and this alone time was desperately needed. She knew she should have been using that night to rest before the long march to Denerim. But based on the likelihood of failing during the coming battle, the night could be the last one to enjoy with Zevran.
And Aimayu planned to make the best of that time.
She adjusted herself expertly so she was straddling his hips.
"Zev..ran..?" She murmured seductively, turning slightly to trail her fingers down the length of his thigh.
Zevran smirked at her, moving his hands to slowly and tenderly rub her sides.
"Yes, my dear Warden?"
She leaned down to whisper in his pointed ear, her soft hair falling around her face onto Zevran's bare chest, "I love you."
Ayu's emotions forced her to stop; her mind was flooding with the though of death. It was all so close she could practically feel it. Maker knew she loved Zevran, which is why she couldn't bear the though of being separated from him in any way.
He looked at her curiously as he felt Ayu's body unexpectedly stiffen around him, and heard a whimper. Ayu lifted her hands to her face, trying to hide her tears.
She felt worse knowing she was ruining their last night together.
"What is it, amora?" Zevran asked, moving her delicate hands away with his own.
Her tone was shaky and distressed, as she gazed at him through moist eyes.
"I just, want to be sure you know I love you…in case I—"
In one swift, forceful movement, Zevran pushed Ayu off his torso and onto her back. She gasped as she landed with her back against the bed, Zevran's arm cradling her head.
"Do not say that, Ayu," Zevran growled, his eyes narrowed, "Just don't."
Ayu was stunned at the sudden mood change. Only a moment ago, he was as calm as if tomorrow was… well, as if it wasn't the biggest and most dangerous day of their lives.
Apparently, he was as fearful as she was.
He kissed her tears off her rosy cheeks, and gave her a stern look.
Some time passed in silence, the lovers taking control of their thoughts. Ayu knew she should try to be optimistic, at least for Zevran.
"I…I'm sorry," Aimayu finally said with a small smile, "I love you, Zev."
"And I love you… so much it hurts," he responded with a frown, kissing her lips lightly.
And with those words spoken, the two lovers engaged in a night of pure bliss, lust, and desperate romance, desiring fiercely that that night would not be their last.
But now was not the time to think of such things, Zevran decided. He spied Wynne brushing filth off her robes, at healing distance from the archdemon's body. She waved her staff at him weakly, signaling that she was fine. Mending magic glowed from her hand, directed at a wound on her arm. But the final party member, Alistair, was nowhere to be seen. For this particular battle Aimayu decided to keep the future king of Ferelden where she could see him, leaving Sten to lead the others by the city gate.
"King Alistair? If your majesty is alive, now is the time to show yourself," Zevran called out to the heaps of bodies lying around.
He finally heard muffled groaning, in the general direction of a corpse pile. Alistair wobbled to his feet, a hand covering his wounded side, kicking darkspawn bodies out of his way as he shuffled towards Zevran.
"That… was a wonderful experience," he grumbled, looking around for his magically- enhanced sword.
"I am relieved to see you well, King Alistair. I am certain Wynne would be happy to tend to your injuries." Zevran said with forced pleasantness. Alistair was not very fond of being called king, and Zevran knew it.
"Right," Alistair responded sarcastically. "It's good to see you alive, Zevran."
Alistair froze mid sword-search when he realized who was in Zevran's arms.
"Ayu!" He called frantically, tilting her chin up so he could better inspect her scratched-up face. When he received no response, he looked at Zevran with narrowed eyes.
"What happened? Is she…?" He trailed off, unable to finish his question.
"Alive?" Zevran answered. "Yes, she is. It would seem that Morrigan's ritual worked after all. But it would be best to get her to a healer, no?"
He walked off towards Wynne without waiting for a response. After everything they've been through, the two companions were still rather cold to each other.
Alistair blinked, surprised that Zevran knew about the ritual already. Then it dawned on him that, of course, Aimayu would let him know. Jealousy stinging in his chest, he followed Zevran to where Wynne was healing the surviving soldiers.
Around them, Redcliffe and Dwarven soldiers clapped each other on the back in congratulations and relief. Others simply went down into the tower as fast as they could, desperate to get back home. Wynne was hastily casting healing spells on each soldier that let her, the blue glow pulsating from her hand, her spiritual presence having a calming effect on the men.
Wynne spotted Alistair and Zevran heading towards her, Aimayu still cradled in his arms, and rushed through the crowd of soldiers to greet them.
"Excuse me… excuse me, sir, pardon me, I just need to get through… yes, you're welcome, excuse me please… Oh, thank the Maker you're both well! How is she, Zevran?" Wynne asked, the skin crinkling around her mouth as she smiled loosely, weariness and relief in her eyes.
"Not dead, I am pleased to say. She lost consciousness from that explosion, I believe, after I found her." Zevran explained, while Alistair stood by silently, wishing he could reach out and touch her relaxed face without being questioned. Which, he knew, was wrong… he was already betrothed to Queen Anora, after all, but he couldn't help his desires.
"We should exit the tower swiftly," Wynne advised, "to be sure we are safe from harm. The stairs are this way. Oh, and congratulations on defeating the archdemon. Well done, to all of you. I'll need to thank her properly when she awakens."
A moment later, Ayu stirred in Zevran's arms.
She was curiously pale, her hands trembling as she tried to get down.
"Wait, Zevran," she commanded weakly, her face contorted in pain, "put me down."
He did as her was told, and Ayu got on her feet hesitantly. She moved away from the group a few feet and got onto her knees, suddenly vomiting a sinister red liquid onto the stone. The group had no time to react before Ayu collapsed onto the ground again.
Alistair just stared as Wynne and Zevran rushed to lift her off the ground, Wynne checking her over for any infections or wounds.
"She isn't hurt, Wynne," Alistair said sadly, looking at Ayu tenderly, "She's always reacted badly to the darkspawn taint."
He gestured to he vomited fluid on the ground. "That, there, is tainted blood; her body is trying to purge it from her system. I saw it happen once before with another Grey Warden, it's not extremely uncommon. She should feel better now."
Indeed, the color returned to Ayu's skin as she was held, once again unconscious, in Zevran's arms.
"It is still curious; she has never vomited blood before, or looked so pale," Zevran commented, examining Ayu's now peaceful expression.
"I'll bet killing the archdemon has taken a toll on her body, weakened it temporarily," Alistair said, patting Ayu's head admiringly. "She's very strong."
"Strong or not, we need to get off this tower," Wynne stated bluntly, and the two agreed.
The trio headed down the many hallways and staircases in Fort Drakon, Zevran being careful not to jostle Ayu too roughly. She mumbled unintelligibly in her sleep, a faraway expression on her face, while gripping Zevran's shoulder lightly. Alistair followed behind them, silently wishing he were the one to carry Aimayu. Wynne subtly rolled her eyes at the three and their vicious love triangle: Alistair pouting, Zevran smug, and Ayu unconscious.
"Wait a moment," Zevran said, pausing on the stairs, "She's trying to tell us something."
"She's not going to vomit again, is she?" Alistair asked with a grimace.
Ayu mumbled something indecipherable, her brow furrowed.
"Louder, amora, we cannot hear you," Zevran urged quietly.
The trio leaned in closer, listening carefully.
"Straw…berry." Ayu stated in a content voice, her eyes still closed. She had always had an uncanny obsession with any fruit. Her life dream as a child was to try them all.
"Maker," Wynne said, shaking her head in bewilderment, "that girl dreams in fruit. It's unhealthy."
Alistair chuckled. "Forget about the Blight; this is what she needs medical attention for."
Another flight of stairs later, and the three companions finally made if outside of Fort Drakon. Once they made it out of the gate, throngs of soldiers and friends swarmed over to greet them, cheering loudly. A group of Circle mages quickly took Aimayu from Zevran, despite his protests, assuring him that First Enchanter Irving would be taking good care of her. Zevran watched as she was carried off into a nearby tent, presumably where Irving waited to examine her.
Alistair was immediately checked for any wounds, being fawned over by nurses and soldiers alike. He disappeared inside what Zevran assumed to be a royal tent fit for a king.
Wynne joined Irving in the Circle's tent, eagerly explaining Aimayu's condition.
Zevran, surrounded by cheering soldiers and receiving appreciative claps on the back, felt powerless without Ayu safe where he could see her. Nothing else to do, he allowed a mage to heal his wounds and accepted a pint of ale from an enthusiastic knight. Soon, he knew, everyone would head back to the palace.
A crier bellowed from a distance, "The coronation will take place at noon tomorrow, if not earlier! All nobles and friends are invited to attend the crowning of brave King Alistair and good Queen Anora at the royal palace, here in Denerim! Our heroes will be warmly welcomed!"