She didn't know how long she sat there, cradling him, waiting for him to wake up. His cheeks glistened from her tears that fell freely as she hunched over him, her body mourning while her mind refused to accept his death.

"I just... I don't understand—"

"Leliana?" Alistair's soft tenor was at her side, and she felt a gloved hand tentatively touch her right shoulder. "You have to let him go."

"No." She only whispered the word her mind was screaming over and over.

"Alistair's right, Leliana. He's gone." Wynne was at her left, kneeling down at the Warden's head.

Wynne. ...Wynne!

Leliana's head snapped up to look at the soft blue eyes on Wynne's creased face. She searched them pleadingly, "He has fallen, he needs you to heal him. Quickly, Wynne!"

The woman's brow furrowed sympathetically, and she rested her hand on the Warden's forehead. "His spirit has left, child. Nothing remains to heal."

Leliana exhaled in a ragged breath and suddenly she was choking and heaving with sobs. The dam keeping her emotions in check had broken and her agony poured out. Her forehead and cheeks burned with the strain of her cries as her body rocked back and forth while clinging to him. Her thoughts raged in a torrent as well, unable to process his death.

Why? He won! He did his duty! I don't understand! Did the Archdemon do this? Was he wounded and the final effort sapped his remaining strength? What could I have done? What didn't I do? Why couldn't someone else have died? Why wasn't it me?

Leliana's body shuddered as her cries subsided. He succeeded! He fought so hard for so long, and won! Why did he have to die?

She didn't even process Wynne taking her wrists, Alistair pulling her back and standing her up. She collapsed against his chest, eyes closed tight, hoping that when she opened them it was just a nightmare, just a glamor like the Sloth demon in the Circle Tower had conjured.

But no, she still saw her Warden's silent form as Wynne reached out to close his eyes, and cross his arms over his chest in respect for the dead.

"He asked me... to give you this." Leliana didn't even register Alistair's words.

She turned to meet his gaze, her pain mirrored in his eyes. She followed his eyes down to a leather-bound book in his hand.

"He said this wouldn't take the pain away, but he hoped it would help you understand." Alistair pressed the stained tome into her hands clasped at her chest. His journal.

She had seen the book many times before. That book and his family shield were all he had left from Highever, when his family had been butchered by the traitorous Arl Howe as a move to assist the usurper Teryn Loghain. Loghain had proclaimed himself Ferelden's guardian, hoping to unite the kingdom under his daughter, the recently widowed Queen Anora. One of Loghain's new policies was to condemn Grey Wardens as traitors, blaming them for the death of his son-in-law, King Cailan (a death Loghain himself had arranged at Ostagar by withdrawing support at the pivotal moment). Only at the Landsmeet, the meeting of all Ferelden nobles, were Loghain's crimes finally brought to light and justice served at the end of the Warden's blade.

She knew he had been born a Cousland, youngest son to the teryn of Highever. She had coaxed a few brief childhood memories out of him during their fireside vigils, and a few more from the safety of a shared bed roll. That book had become a private joke between them, for the night she had been brave enough to ask him to her bed he had used his journal as an excuse to turn her down. He revealed later that he was fearful of being too intimate, too close. That he could die at any moment and he had not wished to cause her more pain. He was the leader, after all. One of two remaining Grey Wardens left in Ferelden.

...one remaining Grey Warden.

Leliana's mind suddenly focused back on Alistair's words: "He asked me to give you this."

Wait..."You knew?" She took a step back from Alistair, clutching the journal tighter. His swift glance to the side said it all.

"You knew this was going to happen? That he would die?"

Alistair stretched his hands out to her, but she would not be comforted. "We knew the risks. There was always a chance..." But the way he trailed off, her years as a bard knew a half-truth when she heard it. She glared coldly, willing him to explain.

"We swore an oath! To protect Ferelden! To be Grey Wardens!"

"Tell me. Tell me what you both knew would happen, that he had prepared this," she waved the journal in her hand emphatically, "in advance."

Alistair looked at Wynne searchingly, but the woman said quietly, "He's gone. And I think we've more than earned the truth."

Alistair took a step back, feeling ganged up on. He considered a moment and decided, What harm could it do? Wynne had secrets of her own... and who knows how much longer that Fade spirit would keep her alive. And Leliana... He might have written down everything anyway. Plus, I would want to know if I were them.

"This," he waved his hand at the Archdemon, "was always our duty. Only Grey Wardens can kill Archdemons. If anyone other than he or I had done it, the Archdemon would simply have jumped into another darkspawn and we'd have the Blight all over again."

He started to pace in agitation, feeling defensive. "I told him to let me do it, begged him even. I never wanted to be king and I thought this would let me leave the best legacy for Ferelden. But you know him: once he makes his mind up, there's no telling him no."

He stopped and faced them, pleading with them to understand. Wynne looked thoughtful while Leliana wouldn't even meet his gaze. It was Wynne who spoke first. "What happens when a Grey Warden kills an Archdemon?" Seeing the flash of pain in Alistair's eyes, Wynne immediately regretted the question.

"Riordan said.. It-It tries to jump into the Grey Warden. But Wardens aren't empty shells like darkspawn. We.. We aren't strong enough to have an Archdemon soul and our own. We.. destroy it. Us." He trailed off.

Wynne regarded him a moment and spoke softly this time, "Your sacrifice is even greater than I imagined, Alistair." Leliana looked at Wynne quizzically, not fully understanding. Wynne turned and placed her hands on Leliana's shoulders, readying herself to offer comfort.

"He's saying... Grey Wardens aren't with the Maker, Leliana. Their spirits aren't going to paradise or the Fade or the stars or any fairytale place. A Grey Warden who kills an Archdemon ceases to exist. He gave up not just his life, but eternity, so that we could live. So that we could all live." Wynne made a sidelong glance to Alistair, who tersely nodded.

Leliana's eyes squinted shut and she hugged her arms about her tighter. It was Wynne's firm hands that stopped her from dropping to the earth altogether and simply curling up.

"Child, I know this is difficult. But to know the truth is to honor him." Her voice cracked with emotion. She had loved him too, in her own way. Wynne assumed it was a resemblance to his dead mother that formed such an immediate affinity. But over time she learned his thoughtfulness was simply part of his character. He treated everyone in their group with respect, always making the rounds by the fire to see how everyone was faring. She and he had many long philosophical discussions about his future. It had warmed her, made her feel like a teacher again. She felt partly responsible since she had given more than a few stern lectures about how important his duty was. As if he didn't know, she thought soberly.

He always took care of himself last. He tended to his wounds last. He wouldn't accept a bowl of food until he was certain everyone had their share. The only time in her memory he had allowed himself to be first was this.

First to die.

She swallowed thickly at that thought, and resolved to be just as brave when her time ended. Wynne felt a warm glow inside, the spirit within echoing her thoughts. They would both be just as dignified.

"We will honor his sacrifice. And live, child. He would want that for us. For you." Leliana raised her head, her eyes red and glistening. She nodded and sighed.

"Come, dear. We should return to the palace. And make preparations." Wynne started to guide her to the stairs they had stormed up together only a few hours earlier. They had been so eager to reach this peak, the finale to a long year of fighting and preparation.

Leliana allowed herself to be led, but reaching the stairs she halted. She couldn't just leave him—

"We shall take care of him, Lady." A Redcliffe knight at the stairs standing next to Alistair read Leliana's thoughts. "He shall be treated with all the honor we can give." She nodded and started the long descent, her knuckles white from clutching the Warden's journal. A dull ache throbbed in her head and heart and she had to focus on each step with great care for fear of dissolving into hysterics again.

Leliana reached the entrance to Fort Drakon, and paused outside to take in the sight of the tall tower. This was her Warden's final resting place. She knelt at the bottom of the stairs and prayed to the Maker, though words of gratitude to the Maker refused to form on her lips. Instead she prayed for answers, for comfort, for safety.

And above all she prayed for him, that he was not truly lost.