Author's note: I don't usually go above 3,000 words, but I didn't really want to edit anything out. It's a shame that you don't get any reaction from your party when Alistair leaves, I thought Morrigan would have said something at least. And here's Erin's reaction... enjoy!

The walk back to Arl Eamon's estate was a long one. Erin was walking a few steps in front of Sten and Morrigan, just like she always did. The small distance, however, was not great enough for her to avoid listening to Morrigan's mainly one sided conversation with Sten. As much as she tried to block out the words, they still came, clear as day.

The apostate's chosen topic was none other than Alistair's departure, and Erin's cold treatment of him in the Landsmeet. She was picking out every annoying thing that he'd done, everything that she disliked about him, and expressing how glad she was that he was finally gone.

Sten was keeping his opinions to himself, much to Erin's gratitude. He made a few attempts at killing the conversation, before realising that Morrigan wasn't going to shut up. He answered her questions in that ambiguous fashion of his, often giving one word answers.

They had reached the market district before Morrigan finally changed the topic slightly, though it was still one the Erin wanted to avoid: Loghain. She was summing him up, like she had Alistair, listing her perceptions of his qualities. Her general approval of the man could not be any more evident.

Erin pushed the doors to Eamon's estate open and walked through, not waiting for her two companions. She ignored Wynne's concerned face as she passed through the entry hall and into the great hall. She pulled a chair out from a nearby table and was about to sit down when she heard the elder mage ask about the Landsmeet.

"Oh, 'twas most interesting," Morrigan announced immediately in a jovial tone. "Anora was left on the throne, Loghain is to become a Grey Warden, and that fool Alistair has finally left. 'Tis most foolish of him to abandon us simply because Erin allowed Loghain to live, but there you have it. I'm sure Loghain will be a vast improvement over Alistair's company, though that is not saying much."

Erin gripped the chair back so hard that her knuckles turned white and painful. She whipped round to face Morrigan, chair still in hand. A scream left her lips as she launched the chair at the woman.

All the colour drained from Morrigan's face as she saw four chair legs approaching her at a startling rate, the rest of the chair not far behind. As much as she knew she should move, her mind went blank and her legs set like stone. All she could do was slacken her jaw in horror as her doom came hurtling towards her.

It was then that a pair of large, muscular arms wound themselves around her waist. She felt a tugging sensation that she did not have the will to resist. She allowed herself to be pulled away until she found herself staring at the archway between the two halls.

The chair practically exploded as it hit the floor where Morrigan had been standing mere moments prior. The crashing and splintering of wood echoed about the place, fragments flying in all directions. The trio managed to protect themselves from any crippling injuries as they cowered on either side of the arch. None of them dared to look in to see what new improvised weapon Erin had added to her arsenal.

There was another scream and the sound of something else being thrown, probably another chair judging by the scraping sound. By the surprised and slightly terrified cries in the direction of the library, it sounded that Leliana and Zevran had taken concerned interest in Erin's behaviour, only to become her next target. The crashing of another chair and the subsequent groan and crash of a bookcase proved this assumption correct.

Erin had thrown the only two items nearest her, and even in her rage, she knew she couldn't pick up and throw the table. She wasn't interested in overturning it either. She wanted to throw things, anything, it didn't matter what it was so long as she could throw it.

"You practising to be a berserker?" came a gruff voice in the direction of the dining room.

Erin whirled round to see Oghren leaning against a doorpost, his arms folded over his chest. He was watching her with a serious expression. His eyes were racking over her as if he was taking in her method, her performance.

"The rage is there, sure..." he continued, shifting his weight slightly. "But you're holding back, even when you're screaming. You need to give up that finesse and give it your all. Come on, let it out. Give me your best shot."

His calm demeanour and surprisingly subtle mockery of her made her chest swell as if someone had turned her into a walking bomb. Her mind started buzzing and tension wound up every muscle in her body. Everything in her was waiting on a trip-spring. She didn't move, could hardly breathe.

"Come on!" Oghren goaded, sensing that she just need one more little push.

She grabbed the small axe on her belt and flung it at his head with all her strength. She saw him duck the axe easily, which embedded itself in the doorpost. Her vision misted over as he started to smirk.

"You can do better than that," he laughed.

She screamed at his words, her throat felt as if she was tearing it out. She grabbed the hilts of her dual longswords and pulled them out of her back scabbard. She didn't rush him, that wasn't the point of the whole exercise. She threw the swords at him, the silverite blades singing as they sliced through the air.

Oghren ducked out of hall at that. Erin could hear him calling congratulations at 'getting there', but she wasn't paying attention.

Sharp pain broke into her mind from her knees as the strength in her legs gave out and she fell to the granite floor. She gasped at the air, which suddenly seemed so thin. Her body was trembling with the exertion, breaking into shudders as air entered brokenly her lungs. Her eyes were blurring as unshed tears swelled up. She lowered her head and doubled over until her forehead rested on the stone.

She closed her eyes and prayed to see darkness. Images of Alistair flashed into her mind's eye. His smile, the spark in his eyes as he spoke, his slightly worried expression as he proclaimed his love for her, the fineness of his body of their first time, they all came to her. And then, the not so pleasant images graced her vision; his grief straight after Ostagar, his rage in the Landsmeet at Loghain's survival, and the utter despair when she turned against him, the light that died in him.

Hot tears burned from her eyes, searing her cheeks. Her crying escaped in strained hiccups, and she held her sides as they started to ache and cramp.

From the entrance hall, Wynne, Sten and Morrigan watched their fearless leader cry in the epicentre of destruction, her violent rampage seemingly over. Wynne's face was crumpled in sympathy at the sight of such anguish. Sten, while confused at her behaviour, had to admit that he had underestimated the woman's strength. Morrigan, also, did not understand why Erin was so upset, as she had acted so calmly during the Landsmeet.

"Is she alright?" Leliana asked worriedly, panting slightly.

The trio looked over to her. Indeed, the bard was struggling to catch her breath and sweat lay in beads on her brow. Her legs were trembling slightly.

Arl Eamon walked through the doorway, having taken one of the side entrances in. Everyone quickly realised that, the moment Erin had thrown her fit, Leliana had left the estate and had raced to find the arl. Obviously she believed that the man could either explain or help in some way. Failing that, this was his estate and he probably wouldn't take its destruction favourably.

"I think she's calmed down a bit," Wynne replied quietly, not wanting to risk Erin hearing.

"Indeed... crawling up into a ball and crying is a vast improvement from trying to kill anything that breathes," Morrigan quipped sarcastically from the other side of the arch.

Arl Eamon stepped forward and cautiously peered into the room. Shock entered his face as he observed the chaos, but he quickly smoothed his expression over and walked into the room. He could feel the anxious eyes of Erin's companions watching his every move.

Erin stilled as he approached her. He didn't kneel down beside her, but stood silently. He waited patiently as she composed herself. He could hear her breathing deeply, trying to calm herself.

Finally, she raised her head to look up at him. Her eyes were red from tears and her face was flushed. A slight tremor twitched on her lips. There was such a broken look to her, Eamon didn't have the heart to speak cruelly to her as he had intended.

She had treated Alistair so coldly in the Landsmeet, Eamon hadn't imagined that she would be so torn up by the result. He had believed that she would shrug at the event and carry on. Looking at her now, he couldn't believe he hadn't been able to see how hard she had fought in the Landsmeet to keep herself from falling apart like she was now.

He knelt beside her and gently, but firmly, grasped her shoulders. He pulled her up as he returned to his feet, and she followed his silent command. When they were both on their feet, Eamon guided her to the back of the hall and towards his study. He felt that she would have a lot that she needed to talk about, and knew that privacy probably wouldn't go unappreciated.

Erin was feeling quite foolish when she sat on the chair Eamon had directed her to. Her antics in the hall were that of a child in a tantrum, not a Grey Warden. She had agreed with Eamon that they would put Alistair on the throne, but she had turned him away, betrayed him. So many things that they had planned, and she had ruined all of them.

"I'm sorry," she murmured quietly.

"I never did like that set of chairs," Eamon mentioned lightly. "I've been looking for an excuse to get rid of them."

He returned to her side and offered her a glass of red wine. She laughed slightly for his attempt to lighten the mood. She took the glass gratefully and sipped it, tasting the rich, full body. Feeling slightly more grounded, she breathed in deeply and felt much calmer.

"I'll pay for the damages," she assured him. "How much would that be, fifty sovereigns?"

"You can pay me once we've dealt with the archdemon," he stated kindly.

Erin was silent for a moment. She bowed her head and stared forlornly down at the glass as she swirled the wine gently. Her eyes flittered to different invisible points of interest as she thought of a response.

"That won't be possible, Eamon," she replied, not raising her head. "I won't live to see the end of the Blight."

Eamon frowned concernedly. That had sounded far too pessimistic, and more to the point, far too suicidal for his liking. He was wondering what he could possibly say to rectify Erin's statement when she looked up at him, a calm resignation in her eyes.

"If you remember, last night, I asked Riordan if I could borrow the Grey Warden letters. I've been part of the order for several months, but I hardly know anything about them. I was curious and I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by," Erin explained.

She paused to take a couple of mouthfuls of wine, nearly emptying her glass. She nodded as Eamon silently offered the pitcher for a refill. When her glass was once again full, she took a third sip.

"He let me have the letters, even gave me the decryption key," she continued, smiling slightly. "I was up all night, decrypting the letters and reading what they said. There were so many fascinating things in them. Every single one gave me important information, some good... others were not so."

She didn't drink any more from her glass, but she looked off to a distant place that only she could see. Then she blinked and returned to Eamon and his study.

"The Grey Wardens have said that only they can end the Blight, only they can kill the archdemon. A part of me has always wondered what was meant by that," Erin noted lightly. "When I decrypted the answer, I couldn't believe it. I decrypted twice, thinking I'd made a mistake, but I hadn't. I asked Riordan about it this morning. I had hoped that he would smile and tell me that I was wrong... but he didn't."

Eamon's frown deepened. He knew that Erin was going to tell him something that he really wasn't going to like. He moved his own glass from his hands to his desk. He focused on her completely, ensuring that he didn't miss anything she said, lest he make a mistake.

"If a normal person –someone who isn't a Grey Warden– kills the archdemon, its soul, its essence, will leave its body and enter the nearest darkspawn, reincarnating itself. Short of killing every darkspawn in all of Thedas, the archdemon is immortal in this sense," she stated, looking directly into Eamon's eyes, ensuring that he understood what she had said.

He leant back in his chair, letting the shocking information unnerve him for a moment. However, he reminded himself that there had been four Blights previously, so that meant that there was a way to kill the archdemon. He returned his attention to Erin, remembering what she said.

"And what if a Grey Warden kills the archdemon?" he asked.

"A Grey Warden binds themselves to the darkspawn, Riordan said such in the Landsmeet. We take in the taint, and effectively become darkspawn with souls. That's what darkspawn are, you see, they're soulless creatures," Erin explained. "If we kill the archdemon, its soul comes into us. I'm sure any mage can tell you that two souls cannot exist in one body."

Eamon nodded. While he hadn't known that fact, it made sense. However, he could follow her lead up. He could tell where she was going in her description of killing the archdemon, and he felt his heart ache with sympathy.

"The two souls destroy each other," she stated factually. "The Grey Warden dies along with the archdemon."

He closed his eyes as she finished her explanation. A rush of sorrow swept over him, a regret that struck his very core. The cool, detached way she had explained the sacrifice, it made his heart ache.

"Did Alistair know?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at her.

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "I didn't tell him, and he seemed quite optimistic about the battle... so, no. I don't think he knew about it, otherwise he probably wouldn't have left."

Eamon frowned slightly. He was trying to put together what Erin was telling him. Obviously someone, a Grey Warden, would have to sacrifice themselves for the Blight to end. As much as he was trying to understand, he felt that the noblewoman hadn't told him everything.

If Alistair had known about the sacrifice, he probably wouldn't have left. The boy, if Eamon could still call him that, had left because Loghain had been conscripted. Loghain... sacrifice...

"Do you plan on sacrificing Loghain to the archdemon?" he enquired.

"No, Eamon," Erin smiled sadly. "Loghain was nothing more than a way to get Alistair to leave. That man has a lot to redeem himself for, and he can do that by spending the rest of his life rebuilding the order he nearly destroyed."

"Then... what-" Eamon cut himself off, cursing how blind he was, how stupid.

"I love Alistair, more than anything in Thedas," Erin swore. "And, I'm pretty sure he loves me just as much... well, at least until I betrayed him at the Landsmeet. If we were still together, one of us would have to give our life for Ferelden. Whoever died, the other would have to live alone. I'm pretty sure that would crush us, regardless of whether it was me or Alistair."

Eamon nodded understandingly. Alistair had even approached him that morning, asking the arl his opinion of Erin, and whether he thought the two of them were a good match. The Templar had asked Eamon how he should propose to the woman. As good as he was with a weapon, Alistair was fairly hopeless with romance.

"I decided that, as he didn't know about the sacrifice, I'd do anything I could so he'd never find out, even if that meant finding some way to drive him away, losing him" Erin continued. "When Riordan suggested putting Loghain through the Joining, I knew Alistair would object. I knew he wouldn't be able to look past Ostagar, and everything Loghain had done."

Erin stopped. She breathed in as deeply as she could, though the air seemed to be suffocating her. She blinked, and felt a tear run down her face. She was mildly surprised, she'd thought she had shed all her tears.

"Going against him was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," she whispered hoarsely.

"You're going to sacrifice yourself," Eamon stated knowingly.

"He'll hurt for a while, but he'll get over it. He'll get over me and move on. I'm sure he'll grieve losing his love for me, but he won't grieve my death... not like he would have done," Erin stated, more tears falling.

"Some wounds aren't quick to heal," Eamon pointed out.

"But they do heal," Erin countered. "He'll have his life, and he'll be able to live it how he wants to."

"What about you?" Eamon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't matter, Eamon," she smiled weakly. "I never did. I'm the last of my bloodline, and with all the nobility in Ferelden, no one's going to miss one teyrn."

Eamon didn't answer her, he couldn't. He had been wrong about her, so very, very wrong. Her love for Alistair was greater than anything in existence, even her own life. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd let all of Thedas burn in order to save him.

Erin raised her glass to her lips and drained the wine from it. She placed the glass on Eamon's desk and stood up. She mentioned that she had to prepare, last minute tasks to do, and other important things that he wasn't listening to. Then she left his study.

Neither of them noticed Zevran bolting back down to the main hall.