He shook his head, trying to clear it and sank down on the bed to keep from falling, his legs growing numb as a shadow passed over his vision. He couldn't believe his ears.
"You want me to do what?" Alistair asked, staring up at Aubrianna in horror.
"It's the only way," she said.
Since you insisted we kill Loghain. She'd never say that to him, but he knew it for the truth.
He, on the other hand, had questioned her decisions several times over the past two years. As if he had a right. He'd given up leadership of their group from the very beginning but that didn't stop him from telling her she was wrong every time she made a decision he didn't agree with.
He stared into her deep blue eyes, the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and shuddered. He loved her. But was that enough to venture down such a dark, dangerous path? Could he live with the repercussions of committing such an act? The other Wardens would surely ask questions he wasn't sure he could answer. And what of this child that would supposedly result from this act? Could he live with himself for deliberately siring a bastard, knowing all too well the horrors carrying around that label would cost his offspring?
Who was he? How did he get here? No longer was he the obedient Templar who could clearly see right from wrong, black from white. At best, he now lived in a world of shadow, not dark but not light, either. Daily coming to understand more and more why they called them "Grey Wardens".
He'd been happy when Aubrianna had refused mercy to Loghain's men in Lothering, slaughtering them to a man. He'd turned a blind eye to her obvious delight at playing both sides in Orzammar, fully trusting her, as a Noble, to understand the game of politics better than he ever could. He'd accepted that the truth sometimes did more damage than a well-meaning lie, as in the case of the Dalish husband seeking news of his beloved wife.
And let's not forget the darkest act of all, the one that had brought them to this place. He'd demanded Loghain's execution, despite the pleas from not only Loghain, but Riordan and Aubrianna.
But what did that make him? This man who no longer saw things in stark black and white?
And just how far would he go? Once again his mind came back to the question, could he live with himself if he partook of this ritual? But no, that was not the real question. The real question was, could he live without her? And he knew the answer to that. He could not. Ever.
So, he would make the killing blow if Riordan fell before the final confrontation. And leave her alone? The only remaining Warden in Ferelden, forced to bear a burden she never asked for, by herself? He loved her too much to condemn her to that fate. She'd lost enough in her life, he would not let her lose him, too.
He took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from her own lips. Needing her to make this one last decision.
"Trust me," she replied, stroking his cheek.
"I do trust you," he said, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "But it is my love for you that rules my actions and I love you enough to do what you ask."
Tears coursed down her cheeks. "Thank you. I know this cannot be easy for you."
"It is easier than the alternatives, my love," he replied, brushing her tears away. "This may be a dark road we travel down, but at least we'll walk it together. Forever."