I truly enjoyed playing Dragon Age but it always bothered me that regardless of the race and history of the character you play they all react the same after talking to Riordan. I know there are certain limitations to games, but that's why there's Fanfiction and imagination. I can't remember the exact dialogue.
Unfortunately I don't own Dragon Age or the Characters.
A Change to the Script
Lyna Mahariel, Dalish Elf and Grey Warden couldn't believe what she had just heard. She had always wondered why it had to be a Grey Warden that had to slay the Archdemon and now she knew. If anyone but a Grey warden killed the Archdemon then the Blight would continue, but if a Grey Warden delivered the killing blow then the old god soul would enter the Grey Warden and they would both die. There was no way that she was going to let Alistair take that blow. After everything they had been through, Fen-harel take her if she did.
"I will take the final blow." she announced. She felt Alistair stiffen behind her but refused to turn to him. Instead she kept eye contact with Riordan.
"It is brave of you to volunteer but the duty is mine. I am nearer to my Calling than you." the older man said somberly. "but let us not worry on this for now. First we must get the Archdemons attention".
The three Wardens spoke for a while longer, throwing ideas around until Riordan declared that they should get some rest. Once in the hallway Alistair strode past Lyna heading towards his chamber. She knew he was angry that she had volunteered to take the final blow should anything happen to Riordan. Lyna knew that it was the only option. She would not put her life above that of the country or of the man that she still loved. Alistair was going to be a good King, she could feel it.
Looking up, Lyna saw that she had stopped walking just around the corner from the chambers that she had been given by Arl Eamon. Her legs refused to move as she could not bring herself to go to them. For an Elf that had been raised in the woods and plains she felt suffocated by the walls. Though she had slept in buildings before, she had always felt more at home at camp with the sky, the stars and moon overhead.
The young Warden found herself walking once again, this time to the exit of the castle. Knowing she would find no rest within the walls she made her way to the camp of Dalish Elves that had joined their army.
O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Morrigan had thought that waiting for Lyna in her chambers would be a good idea as she needed to speak with her. In truth, she had wanted to tell her about the ritual for some time but had not thought either of the Wardens would believe her. When she had seen Alistair striding to his chambers, grim faced, she knew that Riordan had told them the real role of the Grey Wardens.
Knowing her young and impulsive friend would volunteer to be the one to take the final blow Morrigan knew that she had to tell her now of the ritual which could save her life. In all her life she had made no friends until this young Dalish Elf had appeared and found her way into her heart. Morrigan saw Lyna as more of a sister and didn't want such a dire fate for the young woman.
As the light from the candles started to fade Morrigan started to worry. Where is Lyna? She should have been back some time ago. Venturing into the hallway she asked a passing servant if she had seen the Warden. She was informed that the Warden had left the castle some time ago and had not returned.
"Blast and damnation." the witch cursed under her breath. She felt that she should have foreseen this turn of events. The Elven Warden was raised without walls of stone, just like Morrigan herself to some extent. If she was feeling trapped the Warden would be feeling worse.
Knowing she was left with only one other option she walked down the hallway and hesitantly knocked on another chamber door.
"Morrigan?!" Alistair said, surprise and wariness obvious on his face. "What do I owe this unfortunate pleasure? Weren't you lurking outside Lynas chamber earlier?"
"I did indeed go to speak with Lyna, however, our fearless leader did not return to her chambers. Thus I am here". Noting the confused look on the warriors face she continued. "As I am unable to speak with whom I wished I must speak with you and we do not have mush time".
"What do you mean?" The seriousness with which Alistair spoke gave Morrigan a sliver of hope. The warrior was a fool but he seemed to have his moments. He was strong, determined and, if she was truly honest with herself, rather attractive. She could see why Lyna was attracted to him, not that she would ever admit it. He also cared for her friend and this was what Morrigan clung to.
"What if I were to tell you that there was a way to kill the Archdemon without a Grey Warden being sacrificed." she asked carefully.
"I'd ask why the Grey Wardens don't know about it?" he replied, instantly suspicious whilst moving to allow her into the chambers. Morrigan knew he would be, which was one of the reasons she would rather have spoken with Lyna first. The two had become good friends and the witch knew the rogue would have heard her out. She was slightly relieved that they were moving this conversation into the chambers as this was not something that should be discussed where everyone could hear.
"They have not heard of it as it is old magic." she said, noting how he bristled and tensed at this. As an ex Templar she would have expected no less. She had been wary of approaching him as she suspected he would be opposed to the use of magic, which did not bode well with the next part as they loathed each other. As the witch explained about the ritual she could see the emotions flitting over his face going from shock to disgust. This was another reason she would have preferred to speak with Lyna first. The Dalish could have convinced him that this was the best recourse. Finally she told him of the child that would be conceived from the ritual. The colour drained from Alistairs face and he stood spluttering at her.
"You want me to... With you? And that will... Are you MAD?! This is a joke right? Zevran put you up to this didn't he!" She didn't reply, just stood and watched him. This would have been funny if time had not been short and the consequences so dire. The warrior sat heavily on his bed, head in his hands. "The Maker has a sick sense of humor." he said mournfully.
Deciding that there was only really one way to convince him to go through the ritual she chose her words carefully. "If Riordan does not succeed in making the final blow, what do you think will happen? Do you truly believe Lyna will let you deliver the final blow? After all she has done and sacrificed to put you on the throne? No. She will take that task on herself, and not just because you are soon to be the King. She will do so because, for some reason that I cannot comprehend, she loves you. She will die for you and you will be unable to stop her".
O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Alistair wanted to deny what Morrigan had just said but found that he could not. He knew Lyna would find a way to take the final blow. When she had announced as much to Riordan he had wanted to shout at her and refuse her the option. He was immensely glad when Riordan had said that it was his duty. When he had returned to his chamber he had been unable to rest. He had wanted to see Lyna but after seeing Morrigan entering her chambers he had decided to wait. Unable to rest he had time to think. He had not spoken to the rogue since he had broken off their relationship. Truly he wished that he could have done things differently but with the new course that was now laid out for him there was no choice, Despite being a Grey Warden, helping lead the fight against the blight, putting the heir of Marric on the throne and stopping a civil war, she was still an Elf. That small detail had power to destroy everything that they had worked so hard to accomplish regardless of his feelings. The people of Ferelden would never accept an Elf as Queen.
He felt the biggest fool in Ferelden to let his rose go but it was too late. She had distanced herself after that terrible night. He still remembered her reaction when he had ended things. The anger and hurt that shone in her eyes, then the look of horror as she called him a Shemlen. The use of that name alone told him how much he had hurt her. It was a name she had not used towards a human for some time. Now she called him 'Your Majesty' or, when with their friends, just 'Alistair', never 'Ali' or 'Ma-vhenan' or 'Emma lath'.
When Morrigan entered his chambers and told him of the ritual, instinct kicked in and he tried to laugh it off. Upon seeing that she was serious he was conflicted. He loved Lyna with all his heart and would gladly give his life for her, but would he be willing to lay with the swamp witch to save his Dalish rose? It was a lot to decide, mainly because it would produce a child.
Sitting down heavily he realised he was already decided on his answer. He knew Lyna would find a way to keep him from sacrificing himself, she was nothing if not stubborn. He also knew that he would do anything to stop her from sacrificing herself, even this ritual. Even so, there was still something that he had to know.
"About this child?" he asked carefully.
"Do not worry, no-one will know that you are the father. We shall leave once the battle is over and with any luck you shall never see us again." Morrigan answered calmly.
"Why would you want a child?" Something wasn't adding up, almost as though he was missing a large piece of the puzzle.
"Some things are worth preserving." the witch answered simply.
No one had ever called Alistair the sharpest of minds but he caught on fairly quickly. "The old god soul." he said, thinking out loud. "A Grey Warden has to kill the Archdemon to attract the soul, but if a baby was conceived with the taint then the taint would be stronger and shine like a beacon. The old god soul would be attracted to it like a moth to a flame. It could even stay whole and not destroy the vessel". Seeing the look on Morrigans face was enough to confirm his deduction.
"That is the theory. It is only the taint that drives the soul mad. Imagine what we could learn, the knowledge the old god possesses. But the choice is yours. I will not and could not force you to do this".
Looking at the witch he saw how serious she was. Running his hands through his hair he knew his decision was the same even with this new information. It was a choice that would mean his heart would live, even if she never spoke to him again. Knowing he was making a choice that would affect more than his own life he uttered one single word.
"Alright".