She led the company directly to Denerim. The once quiet highways were now crowded with soldiers from every Fereldan outpost. The Dwarves and the Dalish followed rank, their expressions filled with determination. The sound of leather and metal echoed steadily over the rolling hills of the Fereldan countryside. A group of Circle mages surrounded Tandyr, slowing him to a canter. Together they sang a song of rebellion, one she had only read about in books. Nuraya wondered if the melody had been remembered from a time long past, or if a particularly clever and musically inclined mage had composed a new one.
The Mages march to war!
Andraste's gift,
The Maker's fist,
We rally upon Fereldan shores!
We come in aide of weakened men!
March we all o'er field and glen,
With staff and rod, we bravely fight
And conjure only Maker's light
Our connections wrought in times of old
Let's break our bonds from Kinloch Hold!
Each Mage filed past and donated lyrium, healing potions and other draughts to aide her in battle. Some cast protective spells, although she knew these were purely ceremonial in nature, as their effects would dissipate long before her arrival to the city. Some called out the name that the thrushes had whispered on rooftops over the last few weeks: Nuraya the Liberator. Although she did not consider herself worthy of the title, she nodded and saluted each man and woman who declared it. The honours they bestowed on the long road to Denerim filled her hollowed heart. All of them would be worth her sacrifice.
The horizon glowed red and orange, reflecting off the oppressive clouds, now choked with the fowl fires of Darkspawn rage. Quickening Tandie's pace, her heart began to pound in her chest as his hooves pounded the earth. This would be her moment, the only one she had left to offer to the mages, as a symbol of hope and perseverance. Alistair joined her at the vanguard, maneuvering past the stray mages who had become separated from the crowd. His brow furrowed as he studied the caustic glow of the city in the valley below.
"You have quite the following, Commander," he said.
She snapped the reigns and called out to Tandyr. "Then let us give them something to fight for." Tandyr sprinted headlong down the slope and toward the besieged capital with Alistair following close behind. At the city gates, they waited for their company to arrive. The crowd quickly grew. Familiar faces appeared in front: Sten, Wynne, Lel and Zev. Eamon soon joined their ranks along with Teagan and the men from camp. Jaska joined his Dalish brethren and Nuraya even caught sight of Tarben wielding a colossal maul. Bhelen's men crowded beside Oghren, clutching axes of all sizes. Nuraya caught Telari Cousland's eyes and received an approving nod. The chanting of war-songs erupted from the masses in Dalish and Common. The sound was deafening and bolstered Nuraya's confidence even more. As she surveyed the masses, she beheld the product of all her accomplishments since leaving Kinlock Hold. After giving the crowd a little more time to assemble, Alistair stood in front of the gates of the city. Acrid smoke wafted over the battlements and created an even greater sense of urgency.
Alistair began his address. His tone was befitting a great leader. Never before had she felt more certain of her influence to accept the Fereldan throne. He spoke as if he were born for that very moment.
"Before us stand the might of the Darkspawn hoard. Gaze upon them now! But fear them not!"
He motioned to Nuraya. She dismounted Tandie and joined him on his make-shift stage. Banners snapped in the smoky wind, the waning sunlight reflected the glow of weapons and armor. The depth of the assembled filled her with awe.
"The woman you see before me is a native of Fereldan, risen to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. She is proof that glory is within reach of us all. She has survived despite to odds and without her none of us would be here. As a mage she demonstrates that we all have an honoured place within this land!
Today we save Denerim. Today we avenge the death of my brother King Cailan. But most of all, we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honour their sacrifice. For Fereldan! For the Grey Wardens!"
The crowd responded with a thunderous roar and poured through the city gates. Nuraya ran to Telari.
"I give you Tandyr as your ward. Use him to beat through our enemy. He shows no fear. If he should perish in his task, I will know that he was well-guarded. If I should perish, I will die knowing he will be in excellent hands."
Telari closed her eyes and nodded solemnly. Nuraya nuzzled him, pressing her cheek against his cool chaffron. She spoke parting hopeful words, but refused to bid him farewell.
"I look forward to that moment when I will pass his reigns over to you once again." Equipped in full armor befitting a master archer, Telari embraced Nuraya and kissed her cheek. "We shall meet at the Gnawed Noble for drinks later."
Nuraya returned to her company and instructed Sten to take Wynne and Leliana. Looking over the crowd she searched for Morrigan. She had not seen her for hours. Did she depart with them at Castle Redcliffe? The entire journey was a blur and she could not remember. With Alistair, Zev and Oghren they ran headlong in the opposite direction to prevent the Darkspawn from invading the city.
~0oOo0~
The bowels of the Deep Roads shat all manner of devilry upon the city gates. Nuraya found herself separated from her company in the ensuing chaos. The streets were choked with a thick stench of smoke and death. Chaos hung heavy in the air and wood frame buildings burned. Her eyes watered in the searing haze and she searched out for a familiar face, a recognizable banner or an identifiable voice amidst the maelstrom of the Darkspawn's single-minded genocide. The only companion she had left on this earth was Galdorbryne, that elegant piece of silverite she bestowed her affections upon. Sometimes she had to wonder if an ingenious smith had hammered some form of consciousness within its hilt.
Clearing a small area near the ramparts, she saw a soldier sleeping eternally against the wall. She did not recognize him, but took pity upon the family that he would leave behind.
"I shall not fail you," she said aloud and made for the bridge.
Her mind was pure mayhem. Her warden-ability signaled a thousand alarms. There was no way that she would be able to single out Alistair in this madness. From beneath these deranged omens, she was aware of another sound intruding upon her thoughts. Release me! Release me! The Archdemon must be close. It no longer needed her dreams for interference. The pounding of her heart synchronized with these pulsing appeals. Instead of expending extra energy to suppress it, she used it as a sort of war drum. It offered her a meditation. Release me! Release me! She sliced every beast she encountered. Nothing blocked her path.
Behind a stone wall, she recognized familiar sounds. This time, they were coming from outside of her mind. It was the din she had grown so accustomed to since joining the Grey Wardens: aggressive grunts and clamor of weaponry on his shield. Beating a path, she saw Alistair pounding back three hurlocks with little effort. She quickly checked his knee. It was stable and solid. She conjured flaming weapons and offered a healing spell for good measure. To prevent any further attacks, she held back the oncoming Darkspawn with fire and lightening. They swiftly slaughtered every beast behind the wall. Pulling his sword from his final kill he looked over and gave her a thumbs up.
"Nothing like a flaming sword to speed up the process," he grinned. "How are you managing?"
"I got separated from everyone for a while, but otherwise, the body count is mounting. Let's find the others."
They ran to the front of the gates. It was not difficult to spot the bright red beard or mistake Oghren's fowl curses. Sten braced and with a sweep, took down two genlocks working to reload their bows. Focusing on both companions, she healed again. She got to work clearing the area. She was amazed that how far her strength and inner reserves carried her. She did not need to reach inside her robe for a vial of lyrium. She would require them later, no doubt. Sheathing Galdorbryne, she launched a two-handed fireball and then spun around to paralyze a couple of rogue genlocks approaching Oghren from behind. He swung his axe over his shoulder and ran to her.
"Bloody nug-runners. We're out-numbered three to one! Get me into the city. My axe is thirsty for more of their foul blood!"
Nuraya heard her name and turned. Alistair stood with Riordan. She motioned for Oghren to join and ran to her gathering party. She completed a headcount. Morrigan was still absent. What happened to her? She turned to Leliana.
"Where is Morrigan? Did she even arrive in Denerim?"
"She was with us when we left Redcliffe. Perhaps she was separated in the chaos."
Nuraya patted Leliana on the shoulder in acknowledgement and joined Alistair and Riordan.
"We're doing better than I had hoped," Riordan said to her.
"Have you a plan?" she asked.
"The army will not last long. We need to move in quickly to reach the Archdemon. I suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city. Anyone you don't bring with you will remain here to prevent more Darkspawn from entering Denerim on our tails."
"How are we to fight a flying dragon?" She looked skyward for a sign.
"We're going to need to reach a highpoint in the city. I'm thinking the top of Fort Drakon might work."
"The top of the tower?" asked Alistair, "you want to draw the dragon's attention?"
"We have little choice, though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it. I can sense two generals in Denerim. You may wish to seek them out before going to Fort Drakon."
"I'm sure that if we did slay these Generals, it would stop the Darkspawn in the city from doing a lot of harm," Leliana added. Nuraya had to agree.
"It may also waste resources trying to find them. The decision is up to you."
"Do you know where these generals are?" Nuraya asked.
"Neither of them are near Fort Drakon currently, but there are too many Darkspawn here to tell you more. Who do you wish to take into the city?"
"Oghren, Sten and Zev will come." She turned to Alistair as if to offer an apology.
"Fair enough. The rest of your party will remain here in keeping more Darkspawn from coming in the gates. Who will lead them?"
"Alistair."
"Are you serious? I should be going to Fort Drakon!" he said with equal hints of anger and hurt in his tone.
She turned to him, slightly annoyed. He knew what this implied, so she answered "Ferelden needs their king."
Riordan stepped forward. "Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now. May the maker watch over you."
Riordan walked off toward the gates, leaving Nuraya with her party for the last time. She looked over each of their faces, and tried to etch each of them deep into her consciousness.
"Before I face the horde that stands before us, I want to take this last chance to honor each of you. Without you, I would not have come this far. Each one of you holds a place in my heart. And if I do not see you again on this side of the Veil, know your role in this was both cherished and essential." Her words seemed to fall short of the feeling that swelled in her heart.
Wynne approached and offered her a tight hug. "So this is it then, all that we have been through has led up to this. Whatever happens now…to either of us, know that I am proud—infinitely proud—to have called you friend. Onward then, and may the Maker smile upon us."
She walked over to Leliana. "I respect your decision to keep me here, even though I would have gladly stood by your side, even to the death."
"I know, Leliana. I shall miss your songs. I didn't get a chance to hear the one you wrote about me."
"Ah, of course. I shall play it for you after you complete your task. It is a song of celebration." Leliana showed a brave face. Nuraya knew this would not be the case and she appreciated her optimism. She hoped the song made mention of Tandyr and Galdorbryne. It would seem lacking without either, she thought ruefully.
"And the last thing I will ask of you dear Nuraya, is to bring Zev back in one piece. I have little doubt that the Maker will be with you, every step of the way."
This task was becoming increasingly difficult. She approached Alistair with much trepidation. He took no time to embrace her in the way she would always remember—strong, with a suggestion of tenderness. She did not want to let go, yet she had expected this moment ever since he cracked his first joke with her at Ostagar. Thinking of everything they had endured together, she believed that at the very least, she was able to show Thedas that templars and mages had the capacity to work together toward a common goal. She hoped that Leliana would include that in her song a well.
"First, I want to say how incredibly proud I am of you, Nuraya. What are the odds that a Circle Mage would find herself facing the Archdemon alone? I may not have the power to change the fate of the mages in Ferelden, but I have a feeling that you have done that on your own. I remember something you said to me a long time ago. You said you wanted to face the Archdemon as yourself. You will, Nuraya Amell, Battle-mage Grey Warden. I also want to apologize for the past few days. I know they have been difficult. They have for me as well."
"You have nothing to apologize for Alistair. When you are bored witless reading more trade documents, try not to blame me," she forced a smile. He took her hand and held it to his heart.
"You will always be a part of me. Miracles do happen; I just may see you again. Let us hang onto hope that Riordan knows what he is doing." This was more than she could bear. The feigned hope was too much. She kissed him one last time.
"My love for you shall extend beyond the Fade, Alistair. You believed in me, despite everything that I have done."
"You are a woman with a single purpose. I greatly respect you. I love you more than you can imagine. Do me one favor, will you?"
"Anything. Anything for you."
"Go kick the Archdemon's ass for me." He turned and stood behind the party he would command to save Denerim.
~0oOo0~
Sten eliminated the second and final Darkspawn General. Had Nuraya not been attacked from behind, she would have rushed in to help. Falling to the ground, she looked up in time to see the maul materialize inches from her face and she rolled far enough away to see it smash the cobbled road to gravel. Luckily, she did not need to stand in order to cast paralysis. The hurlock, which she gathered was the leader of its unit, froze with its mouth curled in a snarl, bearing its serrated jaw. On her feet she took her sword in hand and jabbed it between the eyes and with both hands, wrenched it clockwise to ensure maximum damage. As soon as the spell wore off, it slumped and fell forward with a thud.
"Sodding Deep Roads Dung!" growled Oghren as he spat upon the fallen hurlock. "I thought you were a gonner for sure. This magic business sure comes in handy in a pinch. I could sure use that one at Tapsters…you know when the ladies play hard to get."
Nuraya just looked at him blankly. He snickered again and swung his axe over his shoulder.
"Don't mind me…all this Blight business makes me giddy."
She and Oghren joined Sten and investigated the area for any remaining Darkspawn.
"We are clear, Kadan. Let us make for Fort Drakon."
"Let's get this over with," she said and whistled for Zevran.
Through the damaged streets and back alleys they ran, assisting the soldiers where they could. The Darkspawn continued to pour into the city. She worried about the others she left at the front gate.
The call of the Archdemon was unrelenting. The closer they came to the tower's approach, the louder its demands howled inside her head. She could almost feel the vibrations of its voice. Release me! Release me! The pressure settled into her brow, and the weight of the words pulled her expression into a scowl. I am coming, she told the voice. I will release you. Zevran drew their attention to the top of the tower.
Riordan had reached the top of Fort Drakon and swung his sword viciously at the Archdemon. She could not tell from her standpoint if he landed his marks. The Archdemon reared and retched flame at the Warden. The mesmeric appeals in her head retreated and she wondered if Riordan's assaults neared victory. Her head filled with a piercing drone of warnings and turned to see that a mob of Darkspawn was closing in on them. Tearing her eyes from the sky, she called a warning to her troops and composed inferno in a cramped, blank recess in her mind. As she completed its image and song, she unleashed her fury of flame onto the seething throng.
Zevran launched arrows in quick succession and the others set to work on those that escaped the blaze on the periphery.
She looked quickly to the sky and saw Riordan now straddled the Archdemon's neck while soaring above them. Following their flight path proved to be difficult while managing the enemy on the ground. She cast a little used spell in her repertoire and surrounded herself in a protective force field. Although completely immune to damage she was immobilized and could not draw her arms or cast offensive magic. She did manage a few spells to further incapacitate the surviving Darkspawn now closing in on the rest of her party. This allowed her to keep a temporary eye on the Archdemon, to keep close watch on Riordan as he wheeled above. She strained to observe the detail, which was difficult given their speed and distance.
Now dangling from the dragon's side, Riordan clung to his impaled daggers. The Archdemon continued to call out to her and she allowed it the space in her mind to plead. It pitched sideways and she assumed that Riordan had hindered its ability to fly. Upward, with effort, it yawed, managing to recover and continue its ascent to the peak of the city. The Archdemon careened and shuddered; Riordan lost his grip. In horror, she watched him fall. There would be no surviving the impact. Offering a quick prayer of thanks she realized the fate of Ferelden now rest with her.
Riordan's last gift was to prevent the Archdemon from having any chance for escape. It was now trapped on the roof of Fort Drakon, unable fly any distance. It called to her, begging and pleading, desperation now wailing inside her head. She had to get to the roof.
~0oOo0~
She fought through the Darkspawn that infested the tower. Her mind drew her upward while her sword kept her focused on the enemy in front. The droning Release me! Release me! impelled her forward with a ferocity she had not realized lay dormant inside her. Balancing between swordplay and magic, she maintained an awareness to include Sten, Oghren and Zev. Rejuvenating, healing, and of course conjuring every deadly spells she knew. Her mouth burned from too much lyrium and her fingers smoked.
Running up the final staircase, she flung open the door and ran to the centre of the roof.
Was it night, or had darkness completed consumed the city? There it was, exactly as she had seen it in her dreams. It was impossibly large, much grander and far more terrifying than Flemeth. It hissed and growled a roar, so guttural that it shook the stone beneath her feet. Archers pierced it with arrows and it reared, seizing the closet soldier and with a sickening shake, flung his expired body across the roof. Snapping its neck back, its burning eyes fixed on her. In recognition, it bared its dagger-sized teeth at her, spit fire and roared so loudly she could feel its hot breath through her hair. The voice inside her head was deafening, screaming, wailing, to the point where she lost all grasp of her faculties. Zevran rushed over and in consternation, helped her to her feet. She had not realized that she had fallen. She shook her head and assured him that she was fine. Inside her mind she roared back, I will release you! She turned to her company.
"Fall back, Zevran and aim for the head! Oghren and Sten, cover me. Signal when you need healing. No one is to strike the Archdemon but me. You're risking enough on top of this festering tower!"
They nodded and got into position as she sheltered them with protective spells.
Redcliffe's soldiers came pouring in from the stairwells and the Dwarves took positions to prevent the swarm of Darkspawn from heeding its master's call. The Circle mages stood upon the parapets, offering aid, protection and weakening the countless beasts arriving for their final stand. She raised Galdorbryne and kissed the centre of the hilt and raised it aloft, over her head and barreled toward the writhing dragon, landing her first strike deep into its foreleg. Her arms shuddered as she bypassed the tough scale, and connected with the soft tissue beneath. Extracting her weapon, she heard a wounded yowl and its massive leg pushed her aside with little effort. Landing on her back, she crawled on her belly to access its more vulnerable underside. The one thing she clearly recalled from her confrontation with Flemeth was the lack of thick scale underneath. She was determined to strike deep into the beast's heart. To get there, she dodged its stampeding legs and its whipping tail that counterbalanced its massive body. Finally, she inched her way and crouched, ready to pounce. She checked her grip and with two hands, sprung upwards, feeling the sword penetrate its flesh and warm ooze gush over her head and shoulders. Preparing for another assault, she wiped the greasy black gore from her hands to ensure a steady grip. The Archdemon lifted off the ground, sprayed fire and made for a parapet on the corner of the keep. It was untouchable for now.
How her men had faired during this first assault, she didn't know. Scanning the chaos of the keep, she first spotted Oghren with a small group of Dwarves, beating back six Hurlocks. Sten was engaged with three more, while Zevran perched upon a window dormer, aimed and struck a genlock about to attack Nuraya. She spied a ballista in range of the Archdemon. Signaling to Zevran, she ran up the platform and cleared the area of Darkspawn. She watched Zevran's sinewy form dash across the keep, somersaulting to avoid direct attacks and wielding serpentine daggers, to backstab when the opportunity arose.
"Yes my dear Warden?" he announced when he arrived, breathlessly.
"You can manage this?" She motioned to the ballista with her elbow as she set a pair of Genlocks on fire. "I'll cover you. Weaken that thing. I need to draw it back to the centre of the keep."
He took command of the weapon and loaded a missile, while Nuraya set it aflame. He aimed and hit the Archdemon in the hindquarters. As Zevran scrambled to load more ammunition, Nuraya beat back the continuing assaults. Hurlocks and genlocks bellowed as she aimed Galdorbryne in decapitating sweeps. Her arms began to tremble and she yearned for a break in the assault to replenish her draining reserves.
Zevran called down to her, "We're out of bolts!" He jumped down and with stinging daggers and led her down from the parapet.
The Archdemon returned, its injured wing hung limp at its side. Running behind Zevran she dosed herself again and noticed she was down to three lyrium vials. It would have to suffice. For what seemed like hours, although time had taken on mysterious properties, she concentrated on the Archdemon's physical assault, wanting to save her lyrium for an absolute emergency. Again it heaved itself, flopping away in the air to another safe vantage point, away from her hungry blade. So fixated, she paid little attention to the tedious droning voice. Zevran called out to her again and they continued their attacks from a nearby ballista. They performed their ritual three more times.
As she ran back to the center of the roof, she took a moment to locate Sten and Oghren. They were nowhere to be seen. Near the northwest corner she spied a shock of brilliant red beard. Dashing to her fallen comrade, she assessed his condition. Relieved that he lived, she did another sweep of the area in search of Sten. He was propped against the eastern wall, his head fallen to the side with an arrow in his thigh. Checking his pulse, she couldn't believe her fortune. He'd make it as well. Now she had to get them closer together. She had enough in her to revive the both of them, but they needed to be in same area. Lifting Sten by the boots she started to drag him.
"Sod this!" she said out loud and dropped his feet with a thud and ran back to Oghren, beating back a few stray genlocks that escaped Zevran's gaze. This would have to be done with steel alone, as she dared not use what was left of her power. Oghren was stout and hefty as well, but at least more manageable than the Qunari. She dragged him toward Sten, stopping to defend herself when required and keeping an eye on the Archdemon. The Dalish continued their ranged assault as it licked its wounds out of reach. Zev joined her. She reached into her robe and passed him two healing potions.
"As soon as I am done, get these into them." He nodded and dragged Sten toward her.
"How are you?" she asked, after dropping Oghren's legs, satisfied that they were close enough to adequately receive the effects of her spell.
"Nothing makes me feel more alive than death, dear Warden!" Zevran's optimism could not be hindered. She tossed him a healing potion as well. She took the last one, not even having the sense to tell whether she needed it or not.
"Cover me," she said to Zevran, and stood back. Reviving fallen comrades was a tricky spell and had a better rate of success in calmer surroundings. It was often performed after battle, but she dared not wait. Remembering the fever that Wynne had her endure, she hoped it provided her the added power that Wynne had promised. Exhausted from taming the Archdemon's voice, she focused on the inside of Sten and Oghren's minds to locate the centre of their awareness. Holding this, along with the complex rune and its accompanying chorus of haphazard notes, she synchronized her thoughts and ushered the diverse images together. Inhaling, the power she conjured emanated in a rapid pulse and penetrated her fallen brethren. As soon as their eyes opened, she and Zev were able to administer the healing potions, just as the shadow of the Archdemon slithered overhead.
"This is it. Get yourselves together. I'm going to take this thing down now!"
She ran, with all the energy she could muster and resumed her assault. It bled profusely but scattered her across the courtyard with a sweep of its spiny tail. Returning to her feet, she was violently knocked forward and heard a sickening crack in her shoulder. Her left arm hung limp and she scrambled on her good hand and knees to escape another direct hit. Where was her cover?
"By the ancestors get on those spindly girly legs Magey! I got your back!"
Stumbling forward, she ran toward the Archdemon again, using all of her power to heal herself. It was enough to give her some limited movement, but unfortunately not enough to take away the pain. She landed another deep gash into its neck. Its pleas became more desperate, sadder even. Holding Galdorbryne in her fist, she plunged it deep within its head and it flopped weakly.
She heard a commotion behind her. Now accustomed to ignoring the rioting and rampaging inside and outside her head, she distanced herself from the Archdemon to give herself a running start. Her arm agonized her and she became aware of every sprain and bruise that covered her battered body. Soon the pain would be gone. Soon there would be peace. A quiet would settle in her mind and she would be invited to enter the Fade. Amidst the chaos behind her she heard a name she never thought she'd hear again:
"Alistair! Stop!" It was Leliana.
Alistair charged toward the Archdemon. Nuraya, almost dreamily, closed her eyes and raced toward the Archdemon head on. She had no time to rationalize why he and Leliana were on the roof. She was driven with a single purpose— to release the Archdemon from its torment and herself from this existence. She sensed a shock of energy flow through her. What little lyrium she had rebuilt disappeared and her connection to the Fade was severed. Galdorbryne dropped from her hand. With no magic, she was unable to wield her weapon. Alistair used his templar abilities on her! Never before had he ever wielded this power against her. Even when attacked by mages in their journeys past, he would only resort to it when Nuraya was incapacitated. But he used it against her now.
She picked up a crude Darkspawn dagger and tried to catch up to Alistair. She screamed his name, screamed for him to stop. His stubborn streak was as strong as hers. He punctured the Archdemon's neck at the shoulder and dragged his sword up its serpentine neck and landed the killing blow between its eyes.
Nuraya was immobilized. She was screaming. Landing on her knees, an extraordinary flash of dazzling light radiated from the Archdemon's corpse. Deep within her soul, she sensed gratitude and her mind hushed.
A massive shockwave of energy threw her back and darkness took her. She was aware, yet she wanted to sleep. Something inside her urged her awake. Opening her eyes, she looked up to find herself engulfed in fire and dust. Crawling on all fours and ignoring the raging pain in her shoulder, she made for the Archdemon's corpse.
The implications of the entire scene were just starting to sink in. She heard the moans of the injured and men weeping for the fallen. There was also cheering. In the smoke, she got to her feet and stumbled around the body, desperately looking. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of his armor. Someone approached her in a moment of celebration; she refused to acknowledge and lumbered in a daze toward his crumpled body.
She placed Alistair in her lap and removed his helmet. He was pale and bruised. A deep gash trailed from his temple down to his cheek. Now that she realized that she lived and he lay dead in her arms. Her screaming turned to a maniacal repetition of "No! No!" as she rocked him in her arms.
"What have you done Alistair. It was supposed to be me… come back to me…don't leave me alone…don't leave me within this madness…" She held him up to her cheek and kissed it, continuing to rock and chant her incoherence.
"Dear Warden, come, let's get out of here." It was Zevran and Leliana. She also noticed the Sten and Oghren were close behind. The filth and blood from their work did not hide their sad expressions.
"No…" she whispered, holding Alistair closer.
"You're badly injured Nuraya, let's go find Wynne," Leliana said, leaning down and held out her hand.
"I said NO!" She continued to rock and wipe the blood from his face. She heard the party whispering behind her and wished they would just leave her alone.
His face was so still, his lips curled in the way they would before he would crack a joke to ease the tension. She ran her fingers through his hair, all mussed and caked with blood. She caught a glint on his neck. Perhaps she could have just one memory of him. Throwing off her gauntlets and gloves, she touched the charm, expecting it to be the one that had once belonged to his mother, but it was one she had never seen before. It was a delicate golden disk with the rune kalle inscribed in the centre. Fire. She recalled all those months ago in the Circle library explaining arcane geometry to him. The cord was also curious. She rubbed it between her fingers and then released in astonishment. It was a finely woven hair—her hair. She wasn't sure whether to feel revolted or honored. She had discarded her braid by a river somewhere between Denerim and Redcliffe. Reaching behind his neck, she searched for clasp so she could remove it.
"You know it's a crime against the crown to steal from the dead." She looked up to see who would dare make such a comment at this time. Turning to gaze at Alistair one last time, she realized his eyes were open.
Disclaimer: This is Bioware's sandbox, I just make sandcastles. Of course my thanks go out to my Betas Kira Tamarion and Doorbellspider. Tip o' the Hat to ye. And you, my dear reader have made it this far. Ding Dong the Archdemon is dead! I hope you didn't think I was about to get rid of my beloved Nuraya! I may be cruel...but who will free the mages? Someone has got to do it! We're nearing the end folks...Stay Tuned for Chapter 22: Remedy.