Rest assured, despite the title, I'm not quite done with this pairing. I'm sure I'll be revisiting them again at various points in their lives. But I wanted to do this one in order to tie a bow around the series.

Alistair's eyes blinked once, then twice. He reached for Thora's shoulder, grasping it tightly. "Are you still there, love?"

"I'm here." Thora knelt next to him, her own eyes practically blinded by the tears welling up in them. This was it, then. After all the years together, this was going to be the end. Thora's left arm hung uselessly at her side, broken in three places, and blood ran down the side of her face from a scalp laceration. They had made it three days into the Deep Roads, taking out as many groups of darkspawn as they could, but at last they had been overwhelmed. A hurlock had landed a massive blow to Alistair's side before falling victim to Thora's sword, and Thora could sense more darkspawn closing in. They had a few minutes still, though, and she was going to spend as much of the life that was left in her looking at him as she could. "I won't leave you."

"Will I … see you … in the Fade?"

"I'll be there." She clutched his hand harder in her good one, pressing a kiss to his bloodied knuckles. "I promise." She had taken Dagna's potion faithfully all these years, accessing the Fade, and it had become easier over time. Now she needed only a small swallow to get there. Thora had a last bottle of the potion at her belt, ready to drink at the end, if there was time. Just in case. She wasn't entirely sure she believed in the Fade, or in the Stone, for that matter, but anything that gave her a better chance of spending eternity with Alistair was worth trying. "Just close your eyes. I'll be right behind you."

His eyes moved restlessly, seeing nothing. His lips formed words, but his beautiful voice was gone, and as Thora watched, the light died out of his eyes and his head lolled to the side. She bent over him, the tears now running down her face. She'd sworn to herself that she wouldn't let him see her cry. They had known this was coming, all along, and they had spent so much more time together than she had once expected. They'd seen their children grow up, they had grown old together. That was more than many people got, tainted or not, and more than any Warden had a right to expect. So why, now that the end had come, did it seem too soon?

Thora kissed his still-warm lips one last time, gently closing his eyes and laying him back on the ground. She took the potion from her belt, drinking it down. Her movements were faster now; she could feel the darkspawn closing in and knew she had very little time. In her mind's eye, she could still see the face of her first broodmother, who had once been a pretty dwarf named Laryn. That was not going to happen to her. Thora fumbled at her belt for the knife she carried, but it wasn't there. Somehow she had lost it. She searched in the darkness of the Deep Roads for Alistair's dropped sword, but couldn't find that near his body, and she didn't want to leave his side, irrational though that might be. She had sworn not to leave him—death didn't change that. Kneeling next to him, Thora gave herself up to despair and waited for the darkspawn.

Then a sharp pain arced through her body. With her good hand, she reached out for Alistair, blackness closing in on her. She could feel the wet trail the blood made down her back as it ran out of her body. In the air in front of her a glowing door appeared, and she focused on it, but not too hard. She knew this door—it was the way into the Fade. She'd been through it many times before. Slowly, letting her body relax, she drifted toward it, reaching gently out to push it open.

The dwarf smiled, a warm smile that transformed her whole face, and then she fell forward across the body of the fallen warrior king. The white-haired mage who had delivered the final blow gently rearranged the pair so that they lay together, their weapons at hand. Fiona hoped with everything that was in her that her son and his wife had found each other in the beyond; she very much looked forward to meeting both of them. In this world, she had never felt comfortable doing so. Her mere existence threatened her son's throne, and after him, her grandson's. She had always felt it best that her contact with them be minimized.

The years she'd spent working with Anawyn were years she treasured. Her granddaughter was a spirited and intelligent young woman who clearly carried in her the best of both her parents, and of her people. The blood of all the races of Thedas ran in her veins, and in the veins of her child. Fiona was proud to have been involved in her heritage. She dearly wished she knew what had happened to her other granddaughter, young Cybele—something there felt as though it carried danger. But there was nothing Fiona could do. Long as she had lived, she knew she had come to the end now. Her power had carried her undetected into the Deep Roads when she felt in her bones that it was Alistair's time, and here she had waited to see that nothing went wrong in the end. She had watched as Alistair and his love battled at each other's side one last time, and as he died, and she had made sure the darkspawn couldn't touch the valiant woman her son had loved so.

Now, having seen them both as safely to the Maker as she knew how, Fiona turned to the oncoming darkspawn, her arms raised. The conflagration of fire she was calling down would take every ounce of power she possessed, but when it had passed, the darkspawn would be ended and she would be with the Maker, finally able to greet her son.

She was smiling as the fire consumed her.