They had been fighting for almost a full day, and Alistair was amazed at how much he had remembered. It seemed like only yesterday that they had traveled this exact same path, searching for the Anvil of the Void. Elissa was as ferocious in battle as ever and when they could the pair joked and talked, trying to keep their nerves down and spirits up. The dwarf warriors with them always stayed a suitable distance from the Wardens, but they did seem to intervene every once in a while, when things got a bit rough, reluctant to offer no aid.

By that evening their golden armor was stained with blood and grit, and several dents and gashes marred the beautiful metalwork. They were exhausted, and even though they remembered their battle training well, the taint and age, had begun to slow them down. After one particularly rough group of darkspawn, Alistair looked up to see Elissa standing in a circle of mangled corpses; she was breathing heavily and leaning on her big Cousland sword for support, when she raised her head to him, he could see blood in the corners of her mouth.

He was still running towards her when her legs buckled and she fell to the ground. Their companions stood a respectful distance from them, but watched them closely, one or two of the men even wiping away a tear.

Falling on his knees as he reached Elissa, Alistair pulled her onto his lap. He was relieved when she looked up at him, her pale grey eyes soft and somehow peaceful. She smiled as she saw his face, but when she opened her mouth to talk, a thin stream of blood flowed from it along with her words.

"Hi," she said softly. Her breathing was ragged and uneven.

"Hi to you too," he replied, smiling gently and felt the tears well in his eyes.

He kissed her tenderly, tasting the salt from her sweat and blood. Removing her glove, she reached up and stroked his face. She seemed to try and memorize every curve, every line as her elegant fingers moved. She smiled more broadly and tried to take a deep breath.

"I love you Alistair. I await you beyond the fade," she all but whispered.

"I love you too," he replied with a voice thick with emotion, kissing her forehead. And he promised "I will be there soon."

And with that Elissa, the Grey Warden, the Queen closed her eyes and with a soft sigh, was gone.

Alistair hugged her body close to his. He was suddenly very much aware of all the injuries he sustained in the last few hours. He felt exhausted to the bone, alone and empty. He sat motionless with the body of his beloved in his lap, staring down at her lovely, still face. He didn't even register the dwarves as they were calling, screaming to him, nor did he notice when they all desperately stormed to where he was sitting. He was barely aware of the sudden sharp pain in his back, and he looked almost unbelievingly bemused at the bloody tip of the Hurlock's sword that protruded through his chest.

His body slumped forward over that of his fellow Grey Warden, his queen. In that moment the two greatest heroes of Ferelden were torn from life.