The jangling of their armor echoed off the stone walls harshly. Their pounding footsteps kept time with Castielle's racing heartbeat, and she gripped her crossbow tightly. She was grateful for her gloves; her hands were sweating so much, she didn't think she'd be able to keep a grip on her weapon otherwise.
Finally, the group reached the massive door that led to Fort Drakon's rooftop. Screams and roars came through, almost painfully loud even through the ancient metal door. Castielle didn't even need her darkspawn-sensing abilities as a Gray Warden to sense the massive bulk of the Archdemon on the other side; she could feel the beast's presence in her bones, almost feel its wings flapping and buffeting the air. She glanced at Alistair; if the nasty shade of gray he'd turned was any indication, he was feeling the same as her. Behind him, Morrigan and Zevran looked similarly affected, though they at least didn't have the Taint to deal with as well.
Cas raised her hand and laid it upon the door handle, but hesitated at the last second. The thought occurred to say goodbye to her companions - after all, any one or all of them could fall in this final fight and never rise again - but they'd said their goodbyes in the courtyard already, and of course, Cas had always hated goodbyes. She met Morrigan's eyes. The apostate nodded, and Cas squared her shoulders. We can do this.
She pushed, and the massive door swung open.
It was absolute carnage. The Archdemon was bigger than she could've imagined, writhing and stamping all while letting out bloodcurdling screams. A few remaining soldiers jabbed at it with weapons but it crushed them easily. Soon the beast's claws and jaws were drenched in blood and gore, both its own and the soldiers'. Blood also streamed from one of its wings, which was nearly torn in two. Someone had dealt the monster a vicious blow, and in doing so had downed it. And a downed dragon, Cas's father's voice echoed in her head, is a dead dragon.
Despite her hands' trembling, despite her stomach feeling like it was somewhere around her ankles, and despite the nausea that threatened to manifest itself in vomiting then and there, Castielle felt her face split in a vicious, bloodthirsty snarl.
The Archdemon spotted her at that moment, and it shrieked its challenge. Cas's legs felt like rubber underneath her but she pulled her crossbow over her shoulder, aimed at the darkspawn coming to the dragon's aid, and began firing.
The fight was a long one, and the toughest one she'd fought in her life. Only hastily-drunken healing and stamina potions, and lyrium potions for Morrigan, had ensured all four of them stay alive and conscious. One by one they slew all the darkspawn and Shrieks summoned by the dragon, and left the archdemon peppered with spell burns and crossbow bolts until it was clear it was only one blow away from being vanquished for good.
Victory was nearly at hand.
Cas laid her crossbow on the ground and shrugged off her quiver. Then, her dagger was in hand and she was approaching the beast. It was time to end this blight, once and for all.
A gloved hand caught hers and pulled her back. "Wait," Alistair's voice came from behind her. "Let me."
She turned back to see her lover. Blood streamed freely from a cut on his cheek, just like it did from a cut on her forehead, and it dripped from his sword as well. Maker, he was an absolute mess, but she was sure she looked no better. "There's no need for you to die," the warrior continued. "This is my duty, I should be the one to kill it."
Cas blinked, then frowned. "This is my duty, too," she pointed out. "I'm a Gray Warden as well, in case you've forgotten."
"Of course I haven't forgotten. But you know how I feel about you," Alistair said softly. "I won't let you die, not while I can do something about it."
Castielle's temper flared. She stepped forward, jabbing him in his armor-plated chest with one finger. "One of us needs to kill that thing, but you're the one who's going to be king," she argued. "Let. Me. Do. This."
His hand grabbed her wrist and he pulled her closer. She didn't think she could ever remember him looking so intense, not even following Duncan's death, or at the Landsmeet when they finally confronted Loghain about his supposed betrayal of Cailan. His amber eyes held her stormy gray ones with no sign of flinching.
"And you're going to be my queen. You're acting like I'm giving you a choice, Cassie," his voice rumbled, uncharacteristically low. Cas froze at the sound of her pet name, eyes wide. "I can't let you do this."
Castielle's eyes dropped from his, and a soft smile stole across her face before she stood on tiptoe and planted an almost-gentle kiss on Alistair's lips. His mouth parted in surprise, and she took the opportunity to deepen the kiss for just a moment before she pulled away. "I love you," she whispered. She felt him stiffen in shock; she had never admitted to love, not in so many words. Romance wasn't her forte, not by a long shot, but she felt like she'd made her feelings quite clear to him with her actions. But if there were ever a time for words to make things absolutely certain, now was the time.
Alistair held her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly. His bloodied gloves slid into her hair, staining her hair, but neither of them cared. When he finally pulled back from her, he gave her a sad smile. "It's time," he whispered, and Cas nodded.
He released her and brushed past her, sword drawn. Even nearly dead and downed till it lay on its stomach, the archdemon still loomed above them all. It watched them all with one large, baleful eye, and tendrils of purple flame still flickered between its teeth.
Alistair had only taken two steps when he jerked back as if hooked on fishing line. An arm had wrapped itself around his neck from behind and constricted around his windpipe before he'd had a chance to react. His fingers scrabbled uselessly at Castielle's arm, but her grip was like iron. Spots flickered at the edges of his vision, and he gasped for air that would not come as within thirty seconds he slumped, unconscious.
Cas caught him and carefully lowered him to the ground. Her thumb wiped away a smear of blood off his cheek, and she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. The action left a bloody lip-print on his skin, and she considered wiping that away too, but left it at the last moment.
"Are you sure this is wise?" Zevran said from behind her. She'd told him the truth about why only a Gray Warden could kill an Archdemon, just in case he were to accidentally give the final blow. "He will be most displeased if he wakes to find you dead."
Castielle ignored him, but turned to Morrigan. The two women's eyes met, gold to gray, and the apostate nodded. Morrigan's dark ritual could work just fine as a safety net, but there was no way Cas was going to risk it failing and Alistair being lost forever. Ferelden would be fine with either her or Alistair alone as its ruler, but she wouldn't live in a world without him if she could help it.
Or perhaps she was tired of people she loved sacrificing themselves for her.
"Take care of him," she said, and turned away from her friends to face the Archdemon for the last time. It hissed at her, tail lashing from where the beast lay bleeding. She swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise in her throat, and stepped forward.
She broke into a run, building up to a sprint. Cas snatched a discarded sword from where it protruded from a darkspawn corpse, and ran towards a lump of rubble. She leapt up on it and pushed off, flying through the air at the dragon waiting for her. A vicious bellow erupted from her lips as she raised the sword high above her head, and as she descended towards the archdemon, she swung it, point down, to stab at it with all of her strength.
The blade sunk deep into the archdemon's skull, just between its pale eyes. The two stared at each other, mere inches separating the Old God from the Gray Warden. Then a deafening crack sounded and a blinding, brilliant white light filled Castielle's vision, and she knew no more.