Hi everyone! I'm completely new to Fanfiction – this is my first story. I think my spelling's fine, but there may be a few grammatical niggles. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. I hope you'll enjoy reading this half as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

This is my version of Dragon Age: Awakening with a lot of Origins flashbacks. This story assumes that there were 4 people at the Warden's joining, two of whom survived. So 3 Wardens survived Ostagar and fought the Blight – Corinth (F Amell), Alistair and Aedan.

Enjoy : )

Corinth Amell's hands ached as she desperately tried to summon another Lightning Bolt, Flame Blast, or even a piddling Arcane Bolt! But…nothing. Her mana pool was completely exhausted. She'd run out of lyrium potions a while ago. She grasped Winter's Breath and took aim at the rapidly advancing Hurlock.

Small shards of ice flew at it, but were deflected by its armour. Desperate and exhausted, she turned tail and ran. Where she was going to run to, the Maker only knew. Then she was aware that the grunting and panting of the Hurlock had stopped. She dared a glance behind her and saw her pursuer lying face-down, an arrow through its neck.

She sank to her knees. She couldn't go on. Her body was racked with pain. Her legs and arms trembled as the last vestiges of energy left her muscles. Surely it couldn't be long now? There were only stragglers left. Where were the others? Were they…she surveyed the carnage around her. She could see shadows in the distance, still fighting. She squinted and tried to focus her eyes, but failed. Blurred vision. A consequence of letting her mana get too low.

She needed to rest. Sleep. To replenish her mana. She could feel the pull of the Fade, beckoning her. But she couldn't very well fall asleep in the middle of a battle, could she? Her concern for her friends – Aedan, Leliana and yes – even that prick Alistair – spurred her on.

She slowly dragged herself up, her wobbling legs threatening to betray her at any moment. Her calf screamed in pain as it cramped and searing pain shot up her leg. She took a deep breath and headed towards the vague shapes of people fighting, dragging her leg behind her.

Everything became a blur. Her eyes started to fail. Her hearing, too. She could hear faint sounds of shouting, metal clashing against metal, but they seemed faraway, just on the periphery of hearing. Was she already asleep? In the fade? Was she…dead?

Her reverie was broken by a large black mass looming into view on her right hand side. Whatever it was, it was immense. Drawn to it, she turned and headed towards it. She felt some warmth and life return to her body as her mana pool very slowly started to replenish – thanks to her amulet, The Spellward. She figured she would risk a weak rejuvenation spell on herself.

She stood still and closed her eyes. In her mind, she pictured a ball of brilliant blue light. She made it grow and expand until it was no longer a ball, but completely filled her mind's eye. She stepped forward and thrust Winter's Breath into the air, willing the blue light into existence. She felt exhilarated as it enveloped her. She exhaled softly and rubbed her eyes. She opened them.

Now there could be no doubt as to the identity of the large black mass that lay before her.

The Archdemon.

An involuntary cry issued forth from her throat as she gazed upon this…Aberration. It lay crumpled and apparently lifeless before her. Was it dead? Had Alistair or Aedan killed it? That meant that one of them…

She quickly looked around. Dead mages. Dead dwarves. Elves. Soldiers. So many dead…but neither of her fellow Wardens were amongst them. Riordan's words from 2 nights ago came back into her mind.

If anyone but a Grey Warden does the slaying, it will not be enough.

She wasn't taking any chances. Offering a silent prayer to The Maker, she grabbed a Longsword from a dead soldier's hand and advanced.

She broke into a slow trot. She would have to build momentum lest she hesitated in the face of her impending death. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes as she thought of her friends and how she wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye to them. Leli, Zev, Oghren; her beloved Aedan; and…yes – even him. The King.

She picked up speed and pushed her friends from her mind as she grimly focused on her task. The world around her seemed to retreat, shrink away. She felt as though she were no longer present, as though she were watching herself from afar. It was her and the Archdemon. There was nothing else left.

She hit something. Hard. She was on the floor, face up.

"I'm sorry, Corinth. I can't let you do this."

A familiar voice. She looked up. Her eyes were still foggy, but the tall figure before her was unmistakable. His wavy black hair was caked with blood, and his Felon's Coat – a birthday gift from her – was hanging off him in pieces, but he still bore the upright, dignified countenance of a nobleman.

"Aedan! Thank the Maker you're alive!" She pulled herself up and threw her arms around her dear friend. She breathed in the familiar scent of cloves and sandalwood. He was probably the only man on the field to smell nice and be clean-shaven. She chuckled to herself. She knew she had lost her focus but she wanted to make the most of the moment. It would be over soon enough.

She pulled back and beamed at him. He did not return her smile. There was a strange look in his eyes. Distant…disconnected. Corinth felt sudden dread stab at her gut.

"I have to do this Corinth"

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Her mouth hung open but words would not come. Her mouth flooded with saliva and she drooled. She tasted metal. She was going to be sick. She knew what he was going to say.

"Ever since I left my parents behind at Highever, I've longed for the day I would see them again. I vowed to my father that I would visit justice upon that bastard Howe. I have fulfilled my promise. For the last 2 years, since we took our joining together, the thought of seeing them again has kept me going. You know this to be true; I would never lie to you. Now, I must go to them."

His words were determined and final.

Corinth's eyes stung as she blinked and tried to stem the tears that built up behind her eyes and threatened to overwhelm her. Her mind raced as she frantically tried to find a way out of this, a way they could both survive…

No. They had their chance two nights ago.

She knew in her heart she could not deny him. She, too, had lost her family, in a way.

"I…I…understand." Her voice cracked into a harsh rasp.

"It was a privilege to know you, my Lady Amell. A dearer friend I could never have dared wish for." His voice was even, calm…accepting.

"Aed…I…" Corinth's face crumpled and her mouth twisted. No. No! She wouldn't cry! She had to stay strong for Aedan's sake!

"I know, my dear. I love you too. I always will." He took her face tenderly in his hands and kissed her forehead.

A strange guttural sound issued from behind them. The world that had shrunk away from Corinth came sharply and rudely back into focus. The Archdemon had begun to stir.

Wasting no time, Aedan broke into a sprint, reaching the Archdemon in seconds. The monster lifted its head to greet him, no doubt ready to douse him in blue flame.

It didn't get the chance.

Aedan dropped to his knees, and in one stroke, sliced down the length of its throat with Starfang. A gurgling, sickening retch emanated from its throat. Its head crashed to the ground. Aedan hesitated for a second. Corinth saw his sharp intake of breath, the tension in his shoulders.

Then he brought death down upon the beast. He thrust Starfang cleanly between its eyes.

A shrill, piercing cry filled the air. It grew louder until Corinth's ears started to hurt. She clamped her hands against them but it did nothing to quell the pain or the pressure building in her head. The urge to fall to the ground and cower almost overwhelmed her, but she fought it. Her friend was about to die. She must stand.

Alistair, who had been on the other side of the roof, ran over. He was slick with sweat, and his normally golden skin was drained of all colour. There was a nasty gash running from his left temple to his neck. He too had his hands clamped firmly over his ears. He looked at Corinth, then Aedan, then Corinth again with a look of utter incredulity on his face.

Aedan seemed to be struggling. His hands appeared melded to Starfang's hilt. He was trying to pull it out. Corinth glanced at him. His face was contorted with agony. No. No. I won't remember him like that. I won't…She looked away, fighting the urge to vomit.

A blinding wave of energy smited her, throwing her backwards. As she met the ground, she wished death upon herself.

Then the blackness came.