Author's note: There is one more chapter after this, which is basically an epilogue, and I get to do something funny that I've wished was possible in the game.

The first thing Erin noticed was the warm darkness that encompassed her whole body. There was comfort in the darkness, a safety that she couldn't remember feeling since before Arl Howe had struck Highever, when she had been forced to flee with Duncan. It was peaceful.

She then realised that the warmth wasn't covering her as evenly as she had originally thought. The majority of her body was covered by gentle warmth, but from her arms and her shoulders up, she was cooler. The warmth was slight, and danced over her skin.

The next sensation she felt was the mild stretched feeling that was across the left side of her face. This was followed by a tingling in the palms of both hands, and a dull sting in several areas on her body. The discomfort was minimal, though, and was nothing that would threaten the comforting darkness that enveloped her. After all, she'd gone through worse in this foolish quest to stop the Blight.

Crack! Sputter.

Those sounds... she recognised those. They were from a fire that was crackling merrily to itself. It may even be what was warming her so gently, so soothingly.

She shifted vaguely in no particular direction. As she did so, she felt her head move on a goose feather pillow. Her arms brushed against the rough cotton blanket that was covering her torso. It was then that she realised that she was lying on a bed, not the cold, hard ground.

She wasn't in camp.

Erin's eyes twitched slightly as she struggled against the darkness. As much as she wanted to stay in its bliss forever, her curiosity, and slowly rising confusion and consequent panic, were demanding that she open her eyes and discover what was happening.

Stone walls were bathed in orange firelight that flickered in a nearby hearth. She didn't recognise the room, which meant she wasn't in Highever, or Redcliff, or Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. She knew she wasn't in some farmer's guest room, simply because farmers didn't decorate their guest rooms with tapestries.

Erin could see a chair beside the bed she was laying on, it was empty. Two bowls were on the side table by the head of the bed, though she couldn't see what either were filled of, if they were filled with anything at all.

Suddenly, the sound of splashing water echoed in the quiet room, from somewhere out of her limited field of vision as she fought to focus her eyes properly. She turned her head to the left slowly, ignoring the number of injuries that were protesting against her moving. She searched the place with her eyes, hoping to find something that would explain the situation.

Her eyes fell on a screen divider, rapidly and haphazardly erected by the looks of. A bloody shirt draped from it, and a shadow moved behind it.

A figure stepped back and into her line of sight. The figure was shirtless and was displaying a well toned set of muscles. Whoever they were, they were unconcerned about her doing anything, not that she felt like doing anything. There was more splashing of water, and Erin concluded that this person was cleaning of themselves, if the bloody shirt was anything to go by.

The figure straightened and turned towards her. She wasn't sure if they'd heard her, but she was sure that she hadn't made a sound. And then, they walked out from behind the screen. For a moment, they were hiding in shadow, but she heard the man, as she was sure he was, murmur something and then hesitantly stepped into the light.

Alistair's features finally came into focus for her and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. The way he was looking at her... it was a mixture of pure joy and absolute terror. She wouldn't have believed such a combination was possible apart from the fact that she was staring at it.

She frowned slightly, wondering what had happened that would cause that man she loved to look at her like he was. Then, memories of the Landsmeet, the battle of Denerim and her fight against the archdemon gently nudged themselves into her mind.

Everything she'd done to him, everything she'd taken from him, all the pain she'd caused him, and he was standing there, watching her waiting for her to say something, do something. All the guilt that she had buried deep in her heart, the heart she had tried to lock away, brought tears to her eyes. She turned away from him. She couldn't bear to have him looking at her like that, so tenderly, and yet so afraid.

The tears seared her eyes and face as they rolled down her cheeks. She demanded silently to her chest to rise and fall evenly, but it seemed content to ignore her. She knew that he could hear her crying, and she didn't want him to.

She didn't deserve to be upset. She didn't deserve to cry. She didn't deserve to wake up to see him there. In fact, she shouldn't have woken up. She should have died when she struck the final blow, killing the archdemon.

She turned back to Alistair, who hadn't moved. Water was dripping from his chin and his hair was plastered to his head.

"Alistair?" she whispered hoarsely.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he walked slowly towards her and crouched down beside her. His eyes flickered as he swept his gaze over her face, but he finally stopped, focusing on her eyes. He raised a hand cautiously and softly ran his thumb across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. He was being especially careful on her left cheek, where the tugging feeling she'd noticed was blossoming into a mild sting.

He smiled, though his lips were twitching as if he was struggling to contain something. She recognised the look from when they had awoken after the battle of Ostagar, and from whenever they had accidently fallen onto the topic of Duncan, or the Grey Wardens. He was trying to be strong in front of her, and trying not to cry.

Despite his efforts, or perhaps because of it, more tears flowed from her eyes. He diligently continued to wipe her tears away, while containing his own. She could see his eyes becoming moister as each second passed.

Erin raised her hand to lay it on his. She was mildly surprised when a mitten of bandages came into her vision. She frowned in confusion, not understanding why they'd appeared and not her hand.

Alistair looked over and held the bandages gently, though she could feel his touch. She briefly wondered if her hand was beneath the mass.

"You always have to do things yourself, don't you?" Alistair asked quietly, not turning to look at her.

There was no judgement in his tone, no damnation, nothing. He was just asking, and that frightened Erin, more than anything.

"I..." Erin trailed off, not knowing what she could say.

Alistair finally turned his head to her. He could see the fear in her eyes, she knew he could. He could see everything, as he'd always been able to. He knew that she had no idea what to say, and she needed him to say something for her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, again, there was no judgement. "Why didn't you tell me about the sacrifice?"

"You wouldn't have let me kill the archdemon," she replied quietly. "Would you have let me die?"

Alistair's shoulders dropped as she spoke. She had always talked about the important things bluntly, and it was all the worse when she right. They both knew she was right.

"No, I wouldn't have," he admitted. "I would have taken the blow myself. I don't think I'd be able to live without you."

"Exactly. I've had enough people die either for me, or because of me," she stated. "It would kill me to add your name to that list."

"But, what about Loghain?" Alistair offered. "Couldn't he have taken the final blow?"

"Do you know how many people tried to convince me to do that?" she smiled weakly. "I couldn't do that. I wouldn't have lived with myself afterwards if I had let him sacrifice himself. It would have felt like Ostagar to me."

Alistair frowned in confusion at the comparison. Erin could almost see his mind trying to find the connecting dots, and she could see that he was struggling.

"Loghain set up your brother, Cailan. He set him up and then sacrificed him in the battle," she explained. "How would Joining Loghain and then sacrificing him to the archdemon be any different?"

Alistair closed his eyes as he finally understood Erin's reasoning, and he nodded slightly. He could appreciate her desire to be above her enemies. She'd even given Howe a swift death, rather than the long, torturous death that her parents had endured.

"Alistair?"

He opened his eyes to look at her. He then averted his eyes as he saw her curious expression. He knew what she wanted to ask him, and it was obviously something that he didn't want to discuss.

"Why-" she cut herself off, sniffing the air like a Mabari. "Is that stew I can smell?"

Alistair laughed quietly. He nodded as he got to his feet. He walked slowly around her bed and picked up the bowl furthest from her on the table. He sat on the chair and started stirring the stew.

"Would you like me to...?" he questioned.

Erin looked to her hands and, seeing them covered in bandages, nodded to him. She forced herself up, ignoring the several protests from different parts of her body. She propped herself up on her elbows and then strained forward until she was starting to lean on her wrists, as her hands would have been a step too far. She could feel her every part of both arms shaking under the exertion.

A warm hand on her back made her look up in shock. Her arms lost their strength and she would have fallen back onto the bed, had Alistair not been holding her up. She felt the pressure of his hand increase slightly as he gently pushed her forward. She brought her arms forward and leaned on her forearms.

She could see that Alistair had put the bowl down on the seat of the chair as he helped her sit up. With one hand on her back, he used the other to pull up the pillow, so she could lean on that. Once done, he held her shoulders to help her back, but didn't comment as she shuffled back on her own, using her legs for movement. When she was close enough, he carefully eased her back to rest against the pillow and the bed's headrest.

Erin shifted to make herself more comfortable, which entailed tucking her legs beneath her. When she was settled, she noticed Alistair had picked the bowl again and was waiting for her. He had pulled the chair in closer to her.

And then, seeing that she was ready, he lifted the spoon and filled it with stew. He blew on it slightly to ensure it was cool, and he offered it to Erin, which she took gratefully. As she was eating the mouthful, he took a spoonful from himself, seemingly unbothered that he was using the same spoon. Although, she wasn't bothered by that either.

They carried on like that for a while in a comfortable silence. However, Erin kept looking at him with the expression that was saying that she had questions, which he did not want to answer.

"Why am I still alive?" she suddenly asked after she'd swallowed.

Alistair swallowed uncomfortably, and put the spoon down. He laid the bowl down on the table and then rested his elbows on his knees. He held his hands as if in prayer, and pressed his forefingers against his lips, his thumbs tucked under his chin. He was still for a moment as he thought of his answer.

"When... I left the Landsmeet, I went straight to the docks," he started. "I bought a ticket for a ship to leave Ferelden. I didn't care where I went, as long as it... wasn't here. The ship was due to leave later in the day, so I had time to kill."

"What happened?" Erin asked.

"Morrigan happened," he replied. "She came looking for me..."

"Oh?" Erin frowned. "Morrigan told me that she wouldn't see me kill myself. I'd assumed that she'd left for... somewhere not affected by the Blight."

"She came looking for me," Alistair repeated. "She told me that I was being a fool and that, if I loved you a mere fraction of how much you loved me, I would turn around and go back. I said... so many things to her. I told her that you didn't need me, that you would be fine without me, and that you would have your happy ending without a spare thought for me."

Alistair chewed his lip slightly before continuing.

"She spat at me, saying that you would have nothing but a lonely death when you faced the archdemon. I didn't understand what she was talking about, and she told me that for the archdemon to die, its essence had to enter the Grey Warden who killed it. She told me that the Warden would die as well, and that you had driven me away so that you could strike the final blow. I... I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that you would do something like that, but I knew it was true."

"I can't believe she did that," Erin whispered.

"I asked her, even if she was telling the truth, how me going back would make things any easier. She told me to speak to Arl Eamon, if I didn't believe her," Alistair continued.

"Did you?" Erin asked.

"No, he'd already left for Redcliff," Alistair shook his head. "But, I saw you, briefly, as you were leaving. The way you walked, the way everyone mirrored that, I could tell that something was wrong. I believed Morrigan then, and I asked her what she was proposing."

Alistair fell silent. His face showed a great amount of discomfort as he seemingly replayed a memory across his mind. He shuddered involuntarily at whatever it was. His reactions had peaked Erin's curiosity.

"What did she propose?" she urged.

"Umm... I, uh...." Alistair stalled. "I'm... not sure if I should... I mean, I'm not sure if you want to, uh.... I don't think you really want to know."

"What was her offer?" Erin asked, her voice stronger and stern.

"She, uh... offered a way to save you," he shrugged uneasily. "She said that it would prevent any Grey Warden from dying."

"And, how was she going to do that?" Erin pressed.

Alistair looked at her with a pleading look, but found her stonewalling him. She wanted an answer, and she wasn't going to drop the subject until she had it.

"She... said that there was a way to attract the archdemon's soul, to a vessel that would be able to absorb the soul and not die," he explained.

"And this vessel would be...?"

"A..." Alistair swallowed difficultly. "A child, which would be born with the taint."

"Be born with the taint? What does that mean?" Erin frowned.

"It... it means that there had to be a... an unborn child, with the taint in it, had to be present when the archdemon died," he summed up.

"Unborn..." Erin trailed off as her face fell in shock.

She could see Alistair squirm under her gaze. His unease was all the proof she needed, but she could hardly believe what she had come up when she put the pieces together.

"You... you had... sex... with Morrigan?!" she sputtered.

Alistair turned red as she spoke. He hid his face in his hands, cringing as he waited for her to start shouting and screaming at him, calling him unfaithful, and many other cruel but well deserved words.

His head shot up in surprise when she started laughing. Erin was crying and she had to gasp for breath. It took her several seconds to calm herself down, but when she did, she smiled at him.

"It seems like we'll do anything for each other, doesn't it?" she asked, still giggling.

Alistair smiled in relief at her reaction, glad that she wasn't upset. But, he'd been fooled before.

"So, you're...?"

"Alistair, I love you. I drove you away to save you," Erin noted. "I would have gladly given my life if it meant that you would live happily, even if that meant that you'd spend the rest of your life hating me."

"Erin," Alistair hissed urgently, lunging forward to hold his love's face. "I.... I could never hate you. I would die without you! I could never hate you!"

Tears finally fell down Alistair's face as he vainly attempted to wipe away Erin's. He reached a hand round to the back of her head and pulled her towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shoulder as he stroked her hair. He whispered his promises into her ear, assuring her that he loved her, and could never hate her.

From the doorway, Leliana wiped a tear from her eye and raced back down the hallway. She had people to talk to.