An End to it All (Part 2)

Kirah roamed the halls aimlessly like a lonely spirit lost in the labyrinth of the fade. There was something about wasting the remainder of her life with sleep that lacked appeal; though her current situation held very little value as well. There was but only one way she wished to spend her final night.

The door never changed, no matter how many times she stalked by. It was always brown and closed and there. Occasionally she would pause and stare it down; hoping her will alone would force it open or at least shatter it into a million tiny splinters, punishment for blatantly mocking her so.

Tired of submitting for what seemed to be the hundredth time to something that was nothing more than an oversized fetch toy for her mabari, Kirah marched up to her formidable adversary with the most menacing scowl her face could muster. Her fists rattled at her sides as sparks of lightning tickled her with anticipation, lending more damage to her hips than to her opponent. Her arms rumbled with tension as barriers of nerves stood their ground firmly, refusing to let her attack.

Defeated yet again, Kirah huffed and slumped forward. She could hear the knots in the door ridicule her as she fuddled in failure. Foolish girl; can't even bring yourself to knock…

"Is someone there? It's open." A muffled voice startled her from her self deprecation. She felt like a bloody nughumper. Not only had she groaned and dragged her feet desolately pass his room more times than she could remember, but she had fallen forehead first right into the sodding door. "Hello?" Breathing in deeply, Kirah reached for the knob.

Hessarian's mercy, please don't let me mess this up…

Kirah's heart warmed as she saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands. "Are you ok?"

"K-Kirah?" Alistair stood and approached her, eyes filled with concern and confusion. "What are you…?"

Raising a hand, Kirah silently hushed her fellow Grey Warden. She needed to say something and wanted to be certain she said it before any other interloper dared to challenge her. "I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I could die. You…we…all could die." Swallowing away thoughts of Morrigan's offer, her fractured voice came out just above a whisper. "I know you are no longer mine, but do you think we could push all that aside just for tonight? Forget that you're King. Forget about Anora. Ignore the Blight that's looming before us and delay our misery a tad longer." Kirah held onto her elbow from across her body and hung her head low. Surely Alistair would think her a pathetic little girl and turn her away. What right did she reserve to come to him like this? She made him King after all.

Tugging on her free hand, Alistair pulled Kirah close into a warm embrace and kissed her hair lightly. "I will always be yours, whether you want me or not." His body began trembling with stifled giggles as he gently petted her persimmon hair.

"What's so funny?" Kirah leaned back and raised an eyebrow curiously. He wouldn't laugh at me during a time like this…would he?

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just…" A sly smile crept into form as Alistair shrugged his shoulders. "I've never told you, but after I die…I plan on haunting you. Not even the fade will keep me from pestering my little miss grumpy girdle." Alistair beamed, obviously pleased with himself. "I do have a duty after all. You named me your templar way before you named me King. You can't get rid of me that easily. Crown or no, you're stuck with me."

Kirah playfully slapped his chest and simpered. "Oh Maker, what am I to do with you?"

She wasn't sure what would happen after she perished. Didn't know if she would retain any of her memories, but nevertheless, this was what she would miss the most. His ability to make her laugh and smile so effortlessly was something she cherished dearly.

Kirah puckered her brows as Alistair released his grasp on her. Sitting at the edge of the bed once again, Alistair knotted his hands back and forth just as he would every time that fumbling nervous chantry boy inside of him surfaced. "W-would it be alright if…if I were to ask to, uh, hold you?" His voice squeaked as he flustered in his words and his face twisted timidly. "I know we had to end things, but…"

Kirah nodded as she sat next to him. "Please do." Her soft tone swelled with anguish.

The couple cuddled on their sides facing one another, eyes enraptured within each other's gazes. Alistair curled an arm around her slender form as his other entangled itself amongst her battle worn hands. Their eyes watered as they struggled to bite back a strew of tears.

Sniffling, Alistair took it upon himself to lighten the mood. He was never one to allow her captivating smile to melt for an extended period of time. "So…10 things worse than the Blight…go!"

"Excuse me?" Kirah replied addled.

"10 things worse than the Blight, go!" Alistair squeezed her hand as he repeated.

Kirah smirked. What better way to spend her last hours than playing a game with the man she adored. "Easy, Oghren's breath."

Alistair snorted in agreement. "Well, I can't argue that one. Hmm, my turn I take it. Um…how about Zevran?"

"Zevran's what?"

"Just Zevran." Her templar smiled as he bit his lower lip. "Not only did he try to assassinate us, but he did try to…to engage you. Let's just say he's lucky you have me wrapped around your finger."

Kirah crinkled her nose and snickered, playfully tapping Alistair on the nose. "You're so cute when you're jealous." A tinge of pink painted his face. "Three, the guards at Fort Drakon."

"I don't know about that one. If a beautiful nearly naked woman tempted me, I doubt I would resist. Maybe we should replace 'guards at Fort Drakon' with female prisoners instead." Alistair raised his eyebrows as the corners of his mouth curled upwards.

Growling, the mage rolled her eyes. "Move on…"

Chuckling, the ex-templar obliged. "Four, a low cheese supply."

Kirah shook her head. "Five, your cooking."

"Hey!" Alistair narrowed his eyes and pouted. "Ok fine. Six, your cooking."

"But I never cooked!" She whimpered, mimicking her templar's expression.

"Exactly. Your cooking is so much worse than the Blight that it didn't even exist!" He snickered as Kirah bit the air in front of his face.

"Seven, a drunken mage with a drunken bard." Kirah buried half her face in Alistair's hand in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.

"I remember that night. You two couldn't stop tickling each other and Oghren ended up spending the rest of the night in his tent." Alistair's eyes widened. "Maker's breath. Oh…I think I just figured out why. Eww—gross." Grimacing, he stuck his tongue out in disgust. "Ignoring that now. Eight, camping in the middle of nowhere with an assassin, a drunken dwarf, a murdering Qunari, a Maker crazed bard, a dead-not-dead healer, a dangerous apostate, a pigeon crushing golem, and…"

"A temptress of a mage!" Kirah smiled wide looking as innocent as a child who stole a cookie.

Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the forehead. "Exactly."

"Nine, rocks." The mage nodded as if there was no need to explain.

Alistair tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Rocks?"

"Next time you're with a woman in the middle of nowhere, you try being on the bottom and see how much you like rocks then."

"Bottom? Oh…" Sheepishly he smiled as it slowly registered in his naive mind. "Ten…" Softening his gaze, Alistair stared devotedly into her eyes. "…marrying Anora instead of you."

"Alistair…" her delicate face scrunched with heartache. "I'm scared. I don't want tonight to end."

Her templar sighed as he rubbed small circles on her hand with his thumb. "Me too."

Tenderly he kissed her. Tears they fought to keep at bay breached their eyelid barriers and rolled down their cheeks. They spent the rest of the night embraced, savoring every second. Silently, Kirah thought of one more thing worse than the blight. Eleven…losing him. Tomorrow rested in the jaws of the Archdemon, but this night belonged to them, and Kirah wouldn't have it any other way. For now, tomorrow could wait.