Author note: I know I shouldn't have done this, but this scene just wouldn't leave my brain or let me get any more studying or any other writing done. I read about a contest on deviantArt about choosing a song and either writing or drawing a scene about it. The song 'Remember Me' by Two Steps from Hell always reminded me of the Warden making the ultimate sacrifice. (If you want to listen to the song, you can find a link in my profile under the YouTube-Two Steps from Hell section) So finally I wrote it, and here it is. The Warden is Lyra Amell, romanced with Alistair, and she rejected Morrigan's ritual. This is an alternate reality to my Blood series, although some of you might recognize Lyra's name. She's basically the same person, but only this story is what would happen if she was the Warden instead of Zelda and Arawin. Also, I know in the game, if you've romanced Alistair and bring him to the tower, he kills the archdemon no matter what you do, but I've decided to ignore that. I wanted him there so he and his love can have one last good-bye. Enjoy, and Bioware owns everything Dragon Age.

Remember Me

The archdemon was down, but the final blow still needed to be delivered. Lyra stood fixed, her heart pounding, her staff falling to the ground with a clatter. Everything seemed to go in slow motion now. The screams from the soldiers, the cries from her friends as they continued to fight the darkspawn that still remained. The archdemon roared before its head collapsed to the stone. Lyra knew it was now or never. She needed to deliver the last strike. The one that would end the Blight. The one that would end her. And she needed to do it before Alistair did.

She looked for him. Her shining blue eyes scanned the top of the tower before they finally settled in his own hazel ones from across the archdemon. She could see he was thinking the same thing. He wanted to get there before she did. Not because he wanted all the glory. Not because he wanted the minstrels to sing his name in praise when they recited the tales of the fifth Blight and its glorious hero. No, he wanted to deliver the final blow because he loved her. Lyra, the mage that stole his heart. The woman that comforted him and kept him safe and happy when it appeared all was lost. The woman who took charge and lead them through thick and thin to bring them to where they were at that moment, and never faltered.

As she stared at him, everything Lyra loved about him soon flooded her mind. His smile. His charm. His ridiculous humor. The fact that he never wanted to be king, but took the position with pride and dignity. She knew it was the right thing to do, even if it meant they could never be together. Ferelden needed Alistair as her king. He would treat her right. He would love and protect her, just as he loved and protected Lyra. That's why she needed to do this. That's why she needed to take the sacrifice before he did. As king, he could do great things. But as a mage, even as a Grey Warden, she would not be able to accomplish nearly as much as he could. Alistair may hate her for it, but it was the best choice. The only choice in her mind.

She saw he went to move, running right for the archdemon's head. She moved faster, freezing him in place with a paralysis spell. Alistair yelled her name as he tried to move, fear filling his eyes as he saw what she planned to do.

Lyra took off, grabbing a sword from the ground that had been dropped from a long dead soldier. The archdemon, sensing her coming, raised its head for one last stand against her. It roared, mouth open and ready to snap down upon her. Lyra dodged its teeth, going under its head and cutting the sword down its throat. The archdemon fell once more, dark blood splattering everywhere, staining her tattered and soiled robes. Without hesitation, Lyra lifted the sword and brought it straight down into the archdemon's head. Someone screamed for her to stop, but it was too late now.

Light engulfed her. Pain shot through her, like fire running through her nerves. Lyra held on to the sword, knowing that even if she wanted to let go, she couldn't. There was no turning back now. This was it. This was her gift to the world. Her sacrifice.

As her world was consumed by light and pain, Lyra shifted her eyes one last time to Alistair, seeing him as he still stood fixed in place. His face showed shock, his eyes filled with tears. He tried to reach a hand out to her, but even if she could reach back, their hands would never be able to touch. She only smiled at him the best she could, a reassuring smile that told him everything would be all right. That soon this would all end. Ferelden and the rest of Thedas would be safe from the darkspawn. The archdemon would be no more.

Alistair smiled back, tears streaming down his face.

Lyra could feel the tears running down her own. Her heart filled as she gazed into his wonderful eyes. She would miss them. She would miss everything about him. She then mouthed the words 'Remember me.'

Alistair's lips formed 'I always will.'

'I love you.'

'I love you, too.'

It was the last thing she saw before the light finally filled her vision. Eventually, there was no more pain, and her heart beat one last time as the light reached far and wide.

Alistair fell, her spell finally releasing him. He felt something pass by him, something gentle and sweet. It brushed across his cheek, and he knew it was her. He touched his cheek to try and feel her one last time before it would fade. The light then died, and Alistair stood to see Lyra laying next to the archdemon, looking almost as if she was only asleep. He went to her, and held her close, her body still warm. She had done it. The archdemon was dead. The world was safe. And as Alistair held her tight in his arms, he knew that he would always remember what she had done for him, and he would never let the world forget.