Okay, this is just a quick short about Wesley, in his last moments. The only spoilers are for the beginning of the game. Please review and critique, as I am trying to improve my writing and anything would be much appreciated. Enjoy!
Usual disclaimers apply: I don't own any of the characters, or any small but amazing part of the dragon age universe. Alas! That honor belongs to hte good folk of Bioware, who have graciously rewarded us with this incredible game that I am an unashamed fangirl of. *Cough* But, I digress. Enjoy the short!
When Wesley had come to Ostagar to find his wife, he did not expect to be cornered in a hopeless battle with the darkspawn outside of Lothering. The village was helpless, with only a few straggling soldiers. The Templars had apparently abandoned the place along with the Chantry priests. He also hadn't been expecting to have his sword arm horribly wounded, or to have his life saved by two apostates, a young warrior, and an old woman.
But the day was still young.
His dear Aveline had convinced him to forge a temporary truce with the older apostate, who turned out to have a sense of humor at his expense. Apostates, you can never know what they're planning. I'll show youy terrible wrath when we're out of this mess. But the situation was now so much more desperate. With the Korcari Wilds as the only escape, how could they possibly hope to survive?
Now Wesley could feel the corruption burning in his veins, the black blood of the darkspawn tainting him, a special pain he'd never felt anywhere else. He kept quiet, watching as his brave wife fought alongside apostates to carve a path through the darkspawn. Oh Aveline, my love, I'm so sorry.
The Templar looked down at his hands, at the veins turning black as the taint worked its way up through his body, killing him from the inside. And the situation was getting no better. He had to watch as the younger apostate sacrificed herself in an attempt to save her mother. His wife, the warrior boy, and the older apostate desperately fought the ogre, barely coming out alive. But he corruption had greatly weakened this Templar, and when the shape shifting dragon swooped in, he couldn't stand any longer. Aveline caught him just before he hit the ground, leaving the apostate to converse with the witch. Wesley closed his eyes and winced. Maker, this hurt. His vision was fogging over. His wife's beautiful face swam in and out of focus as she sat over him, concern and grief written clearly in her eyes.
The old woman looked with concern at Wesley. "What's been done to your man is in his blood already," she softly said to Aveline.
"No! You lie!" Aveline looked at him with tear-glazed eyes. "Not you. They won't have you."
It hurt to speak, but he did his best to manage, "Please, love. The corruption is a slow death…I can't…"
The apostate girl looked sadly at Aveline and Wesley. "There must be some way to help him," she cast hopelessly to the witch.
"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden."
Aveline angrily replied, "And those all died at Ostagar."
The old woman had a gleam in her eye as she said, "Not all, but the last are now out of your reach."
Wesley closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, gasping, "Please…"
The apostate knelt beside him, "Aveline…I'm sorry, but we must. I'll do it for you. I don't want to ever know what its like to put the blade to someone I love, and you shouldn't have to." Aveline bent and kissed Wesley's lips, murmuring sad goodbyes meant only for his ears. Then the apostate and Wesley were left alone.
"Thank you," he managed.
"I'm sorry it had to be this way. You seemed like a good man, for a Templar. Goodbye, Ser Wesley." Then she plunged the blade into his heart.
You seem like a good woman, for an apostate. Goodbye, serah.