A/N: New chapter, on time and everything! As you can probably tell from the title, this chapter involves the last night together for both couples, so it's heavy on the romance of both the fluff and smut variety. So if you're not in the romantic mood, you might want to put off reading it. The next chapter will be the final battle at last, and I hope to have that up at the biweekly mark as well. So that one will be heavy on the action for those looking forward to it! Anyway, for those who don't want to read the smut, skip down to the first break, then after reading that section, skip down to where Ayla and Alistair begin talking. The rest is all regular plot.
Thanks to who everyone who has favorited, followed, and read the story so far - this story is finally up to 200 followers and over 150 favorites, which is totally amazing for me, and I really appreciate it! I'd love to hear what you all think too :).
Special thanks goes to the reviewers of the last chapter, eriaaile, NoleeJade, and guest reviewer Graham - I'm very happy that you think so highly of the story! Extra special thanks to my faithful reviewers WolFang1011, Asilyessam, Candle in the Night, and Akakoken - I always love hearing from you guys!
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Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns the DA characters and original dialogue etc, and I own everything else.
Chapter 53: Last Night
The spell Morrigan was chanting seemed long and complicated, Aedan mused as he stripped his armor off, piece by piece. As she chanted, her fine porcelain skin began to glow with a faint bluish light, even as she removed her clothes, letting him finally glimpse her luscious curves in all their glory.
He groaned softly at the sight as he finished removing his armor; he couldn't remember ever wanting her more than he did at this moment. He stripped his cotton tunic off, and as soon as he had, she laid one cool hand on him while continuing her chant. His body began to flood with a tingling warmth, and his lust for her suddenly spiralled alarmingly high, even as he looked down at himself while he let his breeches and smallclothes drop to the ground, noticing that he was now glowing as well.
Morrigan finished her chant at last as he stepped out of his breeches, closing the distance between them so that he was nearly brushing against her. She gifted him with a slow, wicked smile. "'Tis all done, my Warden. Come now."
She laid both her hands on his chest, running them slowly down, and a strangled, inhuman sound escaped his mouth. Just the merest touch of her skin to his sent shockwaves through him, heightening his desire for her, making everything almost too intense. The spell, he realized, must be designed to make things more pleasurable in case the participants were only involved in this for the sake of the ritual. He, however, had never suffered from a lack of desire for her, and he was stunned speechless for the moment, trying to manage his raging lust while she turned him and pushed him backwards onto the bed.
He manoeuvred himself back further on the bed with his elbows while she crawled towards him, her breasts swinging enticingly as she straddled him. "I take it I will be at your mercy tonight, my lovely witch," he managed hoarsely.
She looked up at him, her hands braced on his chest, her eyes a molten gold of blazing desire as she licked her lips. "I trust you do not have a problem with that?"
He merely shook his head wordlessly, and she suddenly ground her hips down onto his, her wet warmth brushing against his achingly sensitive erection. "Maker help me," he groaned, arching beneath her, his hands digging into the sheet beneath him in an effort to manage the violent need coursing through his body. The glow of the magic surrounding their bodies flared brighter as he gasped, "Please, Morrigan, I need you!"
"My Warden," she murmured, her mouth meeting his. The taste of her was like the sweetest wine, he thought dazedly, one of his hands going up to capture her head, tangling in her hair and scattering the pins that held her hair up, sending the dark mass of it tumbling down. The other hand slid over the soft skin of her back, curving over her bottom and grinding her against him once more.
He felt the soft cry she made into his mouth even as she grew wetter against him, and he could feel himself going drunk with the intoxicating pleasure, with the fiery lust swirling through his body. She pulled her mouth away from his abruptly, only to rise up over him and sink onto him, her head tipping back as she let out a low moan.
"Morrigan . . ." She was so hot, so wet, so tight around him that he was consumed with her. Fire, tingling, blazing fire was racing through his limbs, and he thrust upwards even as he yanked her down hard against him, filled with a mad need, his body urging him to explode inside her.
"Oh, Aedan, my love . . ." She began moving with him, rising up and slamming down, frantic and fast, her body glowing ever brighter as they moved together. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging in as he brought her down even harder, tried to bury himself even deeper, need boiling through him.
The pleasure was so intense it was painful; he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take as they crashed together, as he watched the mesmerizing bounce of her breasts as she moved atop him. He reared up, capturing one breast in his mouth, suckling hard, nipping at her harshly, and felt her shudder, tightening around him. He pulled back, looking up at her, at the sheer ecstasy written across her face. "Oh, Maker, I love you so much, my pretty witch," he growled, need wracking him.
"As I love you, my handsome Warden," she gasped out, a keening cry escaping her as he closed his mouth over her other breast even as he yanked her fiercely down against him. She came apart suddenly, the light of the magic flaring so bright it was now blinding and white-hot, and as she tightened around him like a vice, he erupted inside her, howling out his release as he emptied deep within her.
She fell atop him as he collapsed back to the bed, feeling as though she'd completely drained him, and yet oddly, as though he wanted nothing more than for her to do it all over again. The glow of the magic was gone now after the last blinding flash. He felt too weak to do more than lay there, his arm around her waist as she lay across his chest, with no desire to move right now, or perhaps ever.
"That was . . . intense," he murmured when thought finally returned to him. "I felt . . . everything . . . so much more. Did you?"
"I did indeed," she agreed softly. "Flemeth had told me the ritual would . . . heighten things, but I did not realize how much."
"It was incredible." He grinned up at her, watching the wicked light spring into her eyes in answer. He'd always enjoyed it when she used her magic on him while they made love, but that had been something else altogether. "Can you do it again?"
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I cannot; it took too much magic for me to able to repeat it again tonight. However, I am certain I could manage to repeat the rest eventually."
"Oh, I hope so. I'm not nearly done with you yet," he told her, running his hand lightly over the satin smoothness of her cheek. Her face softened, her eyes glowing with an entirely different warmth now, and his heart ached suddenly, fiercely. "Morrigan . . ."
"What is it?" she asked softly when he didn't continue.
Don't leave. That was what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be terribly unfair. She had to go, to stay on the move and stay away from Flemeth, he knew that. And even if she didn't, he had already lost the chance to have her in his life permanently. There could be no going back anymore, now that he had promised to wed Anora before the whole of the Landsmeet. So he merely said instead, "Thank you. For everything."
Her smile grew sad, as though she knew what he'd wanted to say but couldn't. "You are most welcome. I did tell you that I would keep you alive for as long as I am able to, and I will. The ritual will work, and you will survive the Blight. You and Alistair both."
"I know. I trust you, and I appreciate it. All the help you've given me - us - so far, even before this, I'm truly grateful for it. All of it," he told her, pressing a light kiss to her lips, stroking his thumb over her bottom lip afterward. "And I will express my gratitude all night, if you like."
She nipped gently at his thumb. "I think I would like that, yes."
This much he could give her. He couldn't give her forever, but he could give her this one last night, just between the two of them, before she had to leave. He kissed her slowly, stoking the lust between them again, wanting to make this night last as long as possible.
Ayla lay curled up on Alistair's chest, her fingers tracing light patterns continually over his bare torso while he played gently with her hair, his hands sliding through it, occasionally twisting a lock around his fingers. She'd had time to think about what had happened earlier, and she felt only guilt about it now, about the way she'd handled it, so she poked him gently in the chest, clearing her throat. "I'm sorry, Alistair."
His fingers halted in her hair, which she was sorry for. The sensation of them on her scalp had been incredibly soothing. One of his hands slid from her hair, down to her chin, tipping it up and forcing her to look at him as his brow furrowed. "Sorry? What for?"
She sighed, wanting to drop her face away from his too-perceptive gaze, but he didn't let her. "For earlier. I – I'm not used to . . . this." She waved her hand between the two of them. "To . . . being together with someone. When I heard what might happen when you face the archdemon, I only thought of the way it made me feel, and I couldn't handle it. I didn't even stop to think of the way you must have felt, and I left you. I should have been there for you. But even if Morrigan hadn't . . . had a plan," she shuddered at the mere thought before forging on, "I wouldn't have left you alone all night, I swear it to you. Once I'd had time to pull myself together, I would have come to beg your forgiveness if you hadn't found me first. I'm just . . . not very good at this yet, I suppose. But I will get better, I promise. Don't give up on me."
His eyes were warm as his hand left her chin, stroking over her cheek gently. "Of course not. I would never give up on you. I'm no better at this than you, you know. If you hadn't found out on your own, I'm not sure I would have had any idea of how to tell you." He shrugged, giving her a wry grin. "I'm sure I'm bound to screw up sooner or later, so how about I promise to take it easy on you if you take it easy on me? We'll figure it out together."
She smiled, her heart full to bursting with love for him – love and relief that there was still a chance for them. How like him, she thought, taking his hand in hers and pressing her lips to his rough palm, to forgive her so easily and readily after she'd been a coward. Because she had been. She should have lent him her strength after a revelation like that, not run away from him. She had to be stronger from now on. She would be stronger, for his sake. "Of course we will," she agreed softly. "But you're wrong, you know. You're better at this than I am. You're so much braver with your heart – you give it freely, instead of guarding it selfishly, like I do."
He was flushing now, she saw, ducking his head in embarrassment even as his hand tightened around hers. "I don't know about that."
"I do," she said firmly, meeting his gaze with absolute certainty. "You, Alistair, are an incredible, amazing man, and I count myself very lucky to be the woman you decided to give your heart to. I love you, and –"
She was cut off when his mouth met hers, hot and hard and open, his tongue sliding in possessively. She stilled for a second in surprise before rising to meet him, pressing her body against his, skin sliding against skin as she let him devour her. In only a few short moments, he'd rolled her over for the second time that night, and she knew it would be merely one of many as she gladly arched up to meet him, the two of them racing together towards their peak.
She was dreaming of Alistair again. Though some of the broken dreams she'd had throughout this long night had been nightmares of losing him, of his body convulsing in pain after he'd struck down the archdemon until he lay dead at her feet, this one was not. This was a good dream – in this one, he was making love to her. His warm, calloused hands were sliding over her body, caressing her breasts, curving over her waist, tracing her hips, squeezing her buttocks, before one hand slid between her legs, his fingers delving into her, curling deliciously inside her. Even as she squirmed beneath him, gasping and writhing restlessly, his mouth closed searing hot over her nipple, suckling strongly, sending bolts of lust thrumming through her body. She could feel herself going hot and liquid, her body arching up to his, before his hand slid out and the dream ended abruptly.
Ended because she'd awakened, her mind jerked from sleep as Alistair thrust roughly into her, making her realize that her dream and reality had been the same. Her body was already moving, already meeting his, her arms and legs closing around him even as her mind struggled from sleep. He was moving in a frantic rhythm, one he'd only employed once before down in the Deep Roads, as his mouth moved over her, tasting her skin everywhere, desperately. He must have been the one awakened from a nightmare this time, she realized, and he'd needed her to chase it away.
And she would do it gladly. She met his desperation, his frenzied rhythm, as she dug her nails into his back, as she bit his chest, his shoulder, his earlobe, anywhere she could reach. He shuddered, pressing his face against her chest, and she could feel the rumbling groan he made all through her own body; it was one of her favourite sensations in life now. That, and the strength of his hands upon her, the way his hard, warm body felt pressed against hers, the way it felt when he filled her, when he was moving in her so deeply.
She arched higher, locking her legs around him tighter, trying to pull him in even more. She gripped his hair tightly with one hand while the other remained dug in his shoulder, pulling his head to her mouth so she could tongue the shell of his ear as she felt the rising tide of lust crashing over her like a wave. "Alistair," she breathed in his ear, "my love. Let go for me."
"Ayla," he moaned, long and low, gripping her bottom tightly in both hands, pulling her into him as he slammed hard into her, one last time, spilling himself inside her while he shuddered in her arms. The enraptured look on his face, the naked pleasure in his eyes and the husky rumble of his voice were enough to bring her to her own peak; a fiery bolt of sensation raced through her as she cried out, her body convulsing around his.
They fell limply, together, Alistair's body a warm, comforting weight over hers, his length still buried within her, the way she liked best. They stayed like that for long moments, wrapped together, as they recovered their breath. Eventually, he moved to pull out of her, and though she tried to keep him there atop of her, her limbs were too weak and exhausted to stop him as he rolled onto his back next to her.
"What did you do that for?" she asked softly as she managed to slowly sit up. "I wanted to stay like that . . ." forever "for as long as we could."
He was sitting up now too, staring at her, before he suddenly blurted out, "Marry me."
She blinked, stunned speechless. She'd expected him to ask her one day, of course, but she'd thought it would be after the Blight was over, when their future was more secure. She certainly hadn't expected him to ask now, on what would be their last night alone together before facing the archdemon.
And she hadn't yet brought up the bonding ceremony that would make them life-mates. She knew she should have, but it was so much to ask. Even in her own country, it was a seldom-practiced ritual anymore. It was too much for a lot of couples, particularly those that were arranged matches; it was too deep and too dangerous a commitment for many. And it might be too much to expect of Alistair, even if it did mean a lot to her. So she hadn't asked, hadn't brought it up. She should now, she knew. It was the perfect opportunity. But still not knowing exactly what she wanted to say, she decided to play for time, grinning at him as she asked playfully, "You mean marry you right now? Like this?" She gestured at their naked bodies.
"No, of course not, I didn't mean right now," he sputtered hastily. "Unless – unless you want to do it right now. I – I could ask the Arl if he knows of anyone who could –"
She chuckled softly, interrupting him as she laid a hand on his chest, shaking her head at him. "Relax, Alistair, I was only teasing you." It was endearing to see how flustered he could still get.
He breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling ruefully at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask you like this. I had a much better plan. I had this speech all ready to charm you with –" he winked at her when she laughed – "and I was going to find you some roses, you know. And I have a ring to give you, in my pack. I was going to do this so much better, but it just kind of . . . popped out." He looked down at her, his gaze slightly anxious now. "Since I've asked anyway . . . what's your answer?"
She was startled – and incredibly gratified – to realize he'd put so much thought into this already. She knew from discreetly questioning Leliana about the customs here that rings were the token exchanged by couples in Ferelden when they pledged themselves. In Fallor, the tokens exchanged between life-mates were an item of deep import to each person. They were sometimes rings, but could just as often be bracelets, or necklaces, or armbands, or even daggers. The only thing she had left of such a personal nature that she could conceivably give to him was her lieutenant's armband. But, she thought now, she could get him a ring too, as soon as she had a chance. There was no reason he couldn't have two tokens from her, marking him as hers.
Realizing he was still waiting for an answer from her, and looking surprisingly vulnerable, she smiled at him, leaning up on her knees to kiss him gently. "Of course my answer is yes. I'd marry you with no ring, no flowers, and no fancy speeches. Naked, if that's what you wanted."
His smile was blindingly bright, his eyes sweeping over her body briefly as though he were considering it, before he kissed her in return, sweetly, slowly, joyfully. "Maker, I love you so much. But no, not naked. There would have to be witnesses, and I'd be too jealous to let anyone see you like that." He shrugged as she laughed at him, before his expression went suddenly serious. "But . . . are you sure?"
She frowned, watching him with sudden suspicion. "What do you mean 'am I sure'?"
"Well . . ." he hesitated, studying her. "There were a couple of things I wanted to ask you before you said yes . . ."
"Alistair . . ."
"Just hear me out, please," he begged her, obviously hearing the warning note in her voice. When she sighed and nodded, giving in, he went on, "You know I'm going to be staying with the Wardens after this. And though it won't be quite so dangerous once the Blight's done, there will still be darkspawn to face, and missions to go on. So . . . I'm not going to be able to give you a peaceful life, or a safe life, or even a roof over your head most of the time. That is, unless you stay behind at headquarters –"
"Oh no," she interrupted him, scowling as she shook her head. "I am not staying behind anywhere. Anywhere you go, I go, just like we've done so far."
"Ayla . . ." he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. "This entire Blight has kind of been a special circumstance. Once it's done, I'm going to have to start taking orders from the First Warden at Weisshaupt and he might not let me do whatever I want. We don't normally fight darkspawn with anyone who isn't a Warden."
"So tell him I helped you during the Blight and know how to face darkspawn, and you won't stay on as the Commander without me. Or," she said as an idea occurred to her, "I can go through the Joining –"
"No!" He snapped at her, his hand slashing through the air in denial. "Absolutely not! I will never risk you like that, not ever, unless you get tainted and there's no other choice. The odds of surviving a Joining are incredibly low, so no. I just . . . you can't ask that of me!"
"All right," she agreed softly, laying a soothing hand on his arm, a little shocked. She'd never seen him so distraught before, so on this matter, at least, she would willingly concede. "Okay, I won't. We'll figure something else out, then. Maybe we won't even bother to ask, and just see if anyone notices or cares that I go with you. Anyway, what you were saying before about peace and safety – I don't care about any of that. I don't want any of that. If I did, I would have returned home. So if that's all you were worried about –"
"No," he said quietly, cutting her off with a shake of his head, "that wasn't all of it. There was one more thing."
"Which is?" she prompted him, sliding her hand down his arm to capture his hand and squeeze it gently.
"Children." His voice was so low she almost didn't pick it up. He was carefully not meeting her eyes as he continued, "I told you once before about how it's very difficult for Wardens to have children, because of the taint. So I might not be able to give you any. And I would understand if –"
"Alistair," she said firmly, "stop. Look at me." He did, slowly, his gaze sliding back to hers, anxiety blazing in the depths of his hazel eyes. "I love you, and I want you, and only you, okay? I just want to be with you, for the rest of my life, and that's all that matters to me. The rest of it – I don't care about it. It doesn't matter. Honestly, I've never even thought about having children."
"Not yet you haven't, but in a few years, you might. And I –" he sighed. "I just don't want you to regret this later, if you change your mind. And maybe – resent me for it."
"Don't be an idiot!" she exclaimed, whacking him lightly on the chest. "I would never resent you for something like that! Besides, difficult doesn't mean impossible, now, does it?"
"Well, no," he admitted, "but any Warden I've ever heard of who had children had them before the Joining. And we've already – you know – tried a lot and nothing's happened so far."
"Actually, we haven't," she replied, and when he looked at her, frowning, she explained quickly, "I've been taking a potion that prevents pregnancy that Morrigan makes for me. We had a similar one, back in Fallor, so that women who wished to mate and not get pregnant could do so. Even though you'd told me it was unlikely, I asked Morrigan anyway, just in case something did happen. I didn't want to take even a small chance that I would end up with child and fighting the archdemon."
"Oh," he said softly, looking a trifle wide-eyed with surprise. "I suppose that makes sense. I didn't realize . . . well. Anyway, I – I would like to have children with you, if it were possible. You know, have a beautiful little girl that looks just like you . . ." he trailed off, a wistful smile on his face.
She'd told him the truth when she'd said she had never really considered having children of her own before. But now, hearing him talk about it, she realized she did want children – his children, and maybe that was why she'd never thought about it before. "What about a handsome boy who looks just like you?" He looked up at her, shocked, and she smiled. "What? Haven't I told you – and shown you – how much I love the way you look?"
He was blushing now, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Ah, yes, I – suppose you have." She grinned. It amused her to no end how she could still make him blush so much, after all they'd done together. "So," he began slowly, "does that mean you do want to have children?"
"With you? Yes. With anyone else? No. Listen to me carefully, Alistair," she told him, "because I'm only going to explain this once, and after that, you're not going to worry about it anymore. After the Blight, we are going to get married, I will stop taking the potion, and we will try as many times as we possibly can. And if it turns out we don't have children, I will be completely fine with that, because I will have you. But if we do – I would be honoured to be the mother of your children."
He was looking at her in such wonder now that it was her turn to blush, and he smiled, taking her hands reverently in his. "Every time I think it's impossible for me to love you more, you go and surprise me like that," he whispered softly. "And the honour would be all mine, I assure you."
She sighed, squeezing his calloused fingers. "Alistair – am I ever going to be able to convince you that I love you?"
"I know you love me, really, I do," he insisted when she raised her eyebrows at him. "I don't doubt that, honestly. The only reason I asked those things was not because I doubt your feelings, but because they are basic things a husband should be able to give his wife. And the fact that I can't give them to you – or probably can't anyway – it bothers me. So I just wanted to make absolutely sure, before we went through with this, that it doesn't bother you, even if it was stupid of me to ask."
"Okay," she said, nodding. She could see his point, and honestly, it was sweet of him to worry about not being able to give her things, even if they were things she didn't want – or didn't realize she had wanted. "So, can I ask you something stupid, then?"
He blinked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Of course, but what could you possibly be worried about?"
"Well, as long as we're making sure of things, I just –" she hesitated. "Well . . . I wanted to make sure you wouldn't regret marrying the first and only woman you've been with. That you won't see some beautiful woman in a few years and wonder what it would be like to be with her. I've already tried other men, so to speak, and I know it won't ever be better than it is with you, but you haven't had that chance, so . . ."
He was staring at her in complete shock by the time she'd finished, before he shook his head incredulously. "Ayla . . . now you're the one being an idiot! I've already told you, I have no interest in any woman but you. I don't need to try other women out just to know that it'll never be any better than this. I told you, I already know that, even if I think it's you, it will never feel the same as it does with you. So yes, you're the first woman I've been with, and you will absolutely be the only woman I will ever be with or want to be with. And you are not going to worry about that ever again either, understand?"
She nodded, smiling, feeling relief swamp her at his words. She had known it was a stupid thing to ask, but she'd had just that little doubt at the back of her mind that wouldn't leave her alone. Besides, fidelity was an important part of the bond, and she'd needed to know for certain. "I understand."
"So that is a sure and certain yes, then?" he prompted her gently. "No doubts?"
"No doubts," she agreed. "But I do have just one little condition to my yes."
"Whatever you want," he said instantly. "Anything."
"I just want you to consider something for me," she replied carefully, meeting his gaze straight on and seeing the curiosity lurking there. "It doesn't matter whether you say yes or no, I won't hold it against you, and we'll still get married. I just want you to think it over very carefully, and answer me later. That's all."
"Well, of course I'll consider whatever you want me to," he answered, searching her face, "but what is it?"
"You've heard me use the term life-mate before, right?" When he nodded, his eyes still burning with curiosity, she went on, "In Fallor, there's a . . . permanent bonding ceremony that will link two mates together for the rest of their lives. It's a very serious commitment, more so than just a marriage. When you're bonded together, you can sense each other at all times, so even if you weren't together, you would know if something happens. And you can feel strong emotions from each other, so it heightens everything between you. Which can be amazing for things like making love, but can also be devastating for things like experiencing pain. In fact, the greatest downside of the bond is that if it is particularly strong, one mate may not survive the death of the other. On the other hand, with a strong bond, you can also lend your strength to one another if you are ill or injured. And it is very much a pledge for life, so even if you do survive the death of your mate, you are not to ever have another mate for the rest of your life. There are consequences if you do not remain faithful to your mate, especially when they are alive. Anyway," she finished quietly, "I know it is a lot to ask, so I just want you to think about it, and answer me after the Blight is done. And I honestly won't hold it against you if you say no."
He nodded, watching her thoughtfully, and she could tell he was turning it all over in his mind. "Of course I'll consider it, if it's important to you. But . . . how does it work? I'm guessing it's some sort of magic?"
"Yes, it's a ritual," she explained, "rather like the Joining, I suppose. Except it's each other's blood we'd be using, not darkspawn blood. There's a few other rituals like it in Fallor, like the oath of protection, but this is the most potent one."
"So it's blood magic?" He was frowning now.
"Only as much as the Joining is, I suppose," Ayla answered, shrugging. "It only requires a few drops of each person's blood, and not any from the caster. Rituals like this are the only time blood is ever used in magic in Fallor. It's not . . . bad magic, like most of the blood magic here."
"No, I suppose not. This is something you really want, though? You know as a Warden I'm not going to live as long as everyone else, no matter what – do you really want to risk dying along with me?" She could hear the worry in his voice, see it in his face as he toyed with strands of her hair again, not quite meeting her gaze. This point, she could tell, was the most important one for him, and the most likely reason he would say no.
"I do," she replied firmly, tipping his face back up to meet hers so he could see the certainty in her gaze. "This is something I want very much, and it's really important to me. Besides, life-mates don't always die together. My father and mother were bonded, and my father survived her death." This was true, though she didn't bother telling Alistair that according to Mardin, it had been a very near thing. Mardin had always thought that the only reason their father had survived was because of them begging him not to die. She couldn't remember that, though, so she had no idea if it was true or not.
"All right," he agreed at last, nodding slowly. "I'll think it over, and I'll give you my answer after the final battle. But you still want to marry me, either way, right?"
"Absolutely." She smiled when she saw the joy light his face at her answer. "So you had better live through this battle with the archdemon."
"I will," he promised her, laying a hand over his heart, "if you will."
"Together." She sealed the promise with a kiss while laying her hand over his, feeling the beat of his heart beneath. She would not, she vowed to herself, lose that sound in this final battle, no matter what.
They would reach Denerim within the next day, Alistair knew. He could feel the horde now; whatever the archdemon had been doing to block his ability seemed to have waned the closer they got. They'd raced after the darkspawn as fast as they could, and had managed to close the gap between the two armies down to only a day. The darkspawn would have reached Denerim by now, but their army had been forced to stop and rest. They all knew that charging in without resting would not accomplish anything, and so they had halted for a few brief hours of sleep. Alistair was currently on watch now along with a few other members of the army while the others slept.
He, Aedan, and Riordan had taken it upon themselves to divide up the watches between the three of them every time they did stop for a night's rest. They had thought it best to continue to have a Warden available among those on watch to sense the darkspawn in case they were attacked by scouts and roving bands. He had gotten the last shift this night, which was probably just as well; knowing that Denerim and the horde were so close, he doubted that he could have slept right now anyway.
He was both eager to get the fight over with and incredibly reluctant to face the archdemon. What if they didn't succeed? What if this became Ostagar all over again? Or what if they did succeed, but not all of them made it? He tortured himself with the thought daily, whenever he had a chance to think about it. He knew that Morrigan had done her ritual, and so defeating the archdemon should not kill him or Aedan or even Riordan; but that did not mean that any one of them wouldn't fall in battle before that happened. Or, worse yet, one of their companions.
And then there was the matter of the ritual itself. Aedan had explained it to him later, one of the nights they'd had a chance to speak alone. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He was grateful for the chance to live, to remain with Ayla, certainly, but what if allowing the soul of the old god to enter a child brought about something worse? He still wasn't entirely sure they could trust Morrigan, and especially not this plan that came from her mother. Yet Aedan was sure it would be all right, or that they could handle it later if it wasn't, and in any case, it was already done with. Aedan had already gone ahead with it; there was no turning back now. All that remained was to see if it actually worked, once they faced the archdemon.
And if it did, the Blight would finally be over, and if all went the way he hoped, he would be free to marry Ayla. The fact that she had yes, even with the clumsy way he'd asked her, had made him far happier than he had any right to be at this moment, but he couldn't seem to help the joy that sprung through him whenever he thought of their future together. But whenever thoughts of their future occurred to him, so did thoughts of the surprise she'd sprung on him with her life-mate bond. She'd asked him just to consider it, and so he had, but he couldn't seem to come to a decision on it.
He wanted to say yes; it was obviously important to her, and it was a tradition from her own land, something he could give her to remind her of her home. He knew she must miss it at least a little, whatever she said, and she'd stayed here for him, so this would be the least he could do for her. Yet he still had his doubts; it wasn't that he was afraid to commit to something deeper, but rather that he didn't want even the possibility of condemning her to die along with him.
The rest of it he didn't have a problem with; even the blood magic aspect of it didn't bother him as badly as he had thought it would. She had been right in that it was very similar to the Joining; having gone through that, and being willing to keep performing it, how could he refuse this bond because it involved blood magic also? He couldn't without being a hypocrite, he knew, so he wouldn't refuse on it that basis. The only other part that bothered him was that she would be able to feel it whenever he got hurt, and he didn't want to be the cause of any pain for her. But the rest of it sounded so appealing, he wasn't sure just what he wanted to do.
Well, he thought, casting a glance at the sky that was growing steadily lighter, there was no point in agonizing over it now. First he had to make it through the battle against the archdemon alive. Then he could decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.
"Denerim's just over that next ridge," Aedan muttered to Alistair, pointing at the hill rising ahead of them. Beyond, they could see the ominous red glow that indicated Denerim was already burning.
"Yeah, I know." Alistair flexed his hands; he could feel his palms sweating inside his gauntlets, his heart beating anxiously. Worse yet, he could feel the steadily increasing pressure, the sick tingle running up and down his spine, indicating that they were very close to the darkspawn horde – and the archdemon.
"The army grows nervous," Morrigan observed from Aedan's other side. And it was true; Alistair could hear the growing rumble of anxious voices behind them. "Perhaps someone should address them?"
"It's a good idea," Ayla agreed softly. "A speech to inspire them, to boost their morale would be just what they need. And who better than the two of you?"
"What, you think I should go up there too?" Alistair asked, staring down at her in surprise. He wasn't even that good at talking to one person sometimes; how was he supposed to address an army?
"Of course," she nodded firmly at him. "You're going to be the Warden Commander, and Aedan's going to be the King, and you've been doing this together all along. Why stop now?" She must have seen the worried look on his face, for she added, smiling at him, "You'll do fine. I believe in you, remember?"
"Yeah, come on, Alistair, let's rouse the troops," Aedan urged him, heading towards the ridge up ahead and beckoning Alistair to follow. He did so, reluctantly, but he went, because he didn't want to disappoint either of them. He and Aedan hurried up to the top of the hill, and turned to address the masses behind them, the ragtag army of mages, elves, dwarves, and humans, who all halted when they saw the Wardens standing on the hill ahead of them.
Aedan spoke first, his voice ringing out loud and clear over the army gathered below. "That is the heart of Ferelden, of our home," he shouted, pointing at the burning city beyond the hill, "and we will not let them take it! We will be the light that stands against the darkness, that halts the advance of the Blight in our land! As Fereldans, we have always succeeded where the odds seemed impossible, stood fast against the threats that came our way, and we will not fail now! The darkspawn are frightening, yes, but they die just as men do – and they will fall before us, just as the Orlesians did!"
The cheers that burst out from the crowd below were loud and thunderous, and Alistair suddenly knew what he wanted to say as he met Ayla's eyes. She gave him an encouraging smile and nod as he banged his shield, drawing the attention of the crowd to him. "Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde! Gaze upon them now, but fear them not!" He clapped his hand on Aedan's shoulder as he continued, "The man beside me is a native of Ferelden, the last son of the Cousland house, now risen to the ranks of the Grey Wardens! He is proof that glory is within reach of us all! He has survived despite the odds, and without him, none of us would be here! Today, we save Denerim! Today we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan! Today is the day that we make history – that we defeat the archdemon, the darkspawn, and the Blight! But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honour their sacrifice! For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!"
He finished on a roar, pointing to the city beyond, and the army, now roused to a fever pitch, raced past him and Aedan towards the burning city and its desperately battling citizens. Drawing his sword and shield, Alistair joined them, his earlier anxiety vanished in the wake of his determination to save Denerim and honor Duncan and the other Wardens. This time would not be like Ostagar – this time, they would succeed. This time, the darkspawn would be the ones that fell beneath the onslaught of the army charging towards them.
