Chapter 78: The Archdemon
The sun's rays peeked through the window causing Delia to snuggle into her husband's chest. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him. His face was peaceful and he was so handsome. Knowing what she faced in Denerim made her heart ache. She wanted to hold this vision in her mind forever.
Unfortunately there was a knock on the door. Alistair woke and walked to the door, opening it slightly to retrieve the message. He scowled as he closed the door and noticed his wife leaving the bed.
"Oh, and you were so comfortable, I'm sorry you've woken up, love." He crossed the room and took her into his arms, kissing her warmly. Delia settled into his embrace with a sigh. "Are you alright? You seem troubled."
He kissed her forehead as she gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry, Alistair. I didn't sleep well. I think it's because I'm anxious about the march today as well as the battle."
"I can't say as I blame you. The march will be excruciating, and I'm afraid of the battle myself. You know I love you, more than words could ever express. The thought that I could be separated from you, that I could… well, I can't even think of it. We will defeat the archdemon, and then you and I will have the rest of our lives together."
Delia struggled to hold her emotions in control. All she could do was nod in agreement as her throat closed with her sorrow.
Alistair and Delia dressed and checked their travel packs before they finally walked downstairs for breakfast. They ate quickly and followed their friends and troops out to the courtyard where everyone was assembling for the march. Zachary proved to be very efficient in organizing all the men, and soon the forced march was underway.
There wasn't much talking during the march. Everyone seemed to keep their thoughts to themselves. Delia rode at Alistair's side, protected by their companions and the multitude of warriors. Riordan rode at the front of the assembly so he could sense any darkspawn. One person who was notably absent was Morrigan. Delia was angry at the woman. Here she had become what Delia thought was a close friend, and the mage seemed to have plans of her own to claim the country through her supposed ritual. She tried to manipulate Delia's love for her husband to suit her own purpose, and for that Delia could never forgive her.
It was difficult for Delia to refrain from talking about what troubled her. She couldn't speak to anyone except the wardens about Morrigan, and she couldn't speak to anyone about her visit to the Fade. Each minute that passed, every step their horses took was another minute less that she would have her husband alive. Somehow she needed to find the inner strength to handle her burden alone, but it wasn't easy.
They marched the troops not only all day, but most of the night as well. Finally Zachary decided to camp for a few hours, but there were few comforts. A campfire was built for warmth, but no tents were pitched. Delia and Alistair lay on the ground with Griffon nearby and caught a few hours of sleep, but they were back on the road before the sun even rose.
Delia was so tired after several more hours of riding that she didn't even realize that they had reached the outskirts of Denerim until the city walls were nearly right in front of them. Zachary barked orders to the troops as squires scurried to round up the horses. A base camp was quickly built, giving Delia a brief respite while the men organized and prepared for battle.
Aeden organized the companies who were left to guard the queen at the base camp as he also assigned tasks to each member of their party. Trent was asked to stay with Delia, mostly for moral support. Griffon would remain with her as well since he had imprinted on her and would feel an instinctive need to protect her. Of course, Dairren would not be fighting since he was still too weak from his months of torture so he would also stay with his sister.
Everyone else from their party would be involved in the battle. Alistair and Aeden would be at the front lines with Wynne and Zevran. Oghren would be the second in command, organizing the others as the main battle demanded. Eamon and Teagan would be fighting among the soldiers along with every other nobleman who was able-bodied. The overall strategy would keep the fighting within the city walls, and they hoped that Delia wouldn't need the protective forces set aside for her, but they had their orders to get her to Amaranthine if the battle went poorly.
Finally the minute she dreaded came upon them. Alistair walked up to her with his endearing lopsided smile and pulled her into an embrace. He breathed in the scent of her hair one last time and kissed her passionately.
"I will return to you, Delia. Remember that I love you, more than anything or anyone." His eyes were full of the tears he wanted to shed, but couldn't allow the troops to see from their king.
Delia clung to Alistair. "I love you, Alistair. Know that my heart is with you always."
He chuckled. "I could never forget." He smiled at her teasingly and reached into his breastplate, removing the embroidered heart Delia had created for him in Orzammar. "You know that I always carry your heart next to my own."
Delia smiled as he replaced it. "That certainly is where my heart belongs."
After one final kiss, Alistair ran off to join his men. He stopped and looked back at her, his armor gleaming in the sunlight, and threw a kiss to her before continuing to the battle. That was the vision that Delia wanted to always remember of her husband – looking every bit the handsome, courageous and determined king that he was destined to be.
She sat at a campfire as the battle raged in the city. They could hear the clash of steel and the battle cries of both the people of Ferelden and the darkspawn monstrosities. Dairren sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her, but she didn't seem to notice. He looked at Trent with concern; it wasn't like his sister to sit so stoically. Even Griffon seemed worried. The deer hound's eyes never left her face.
Suddenly her attention was drawn to a screeching call coming from the skies. The archdemon swooped down into the city. Delia's fear of the beast made her tremble, but she felt compelled to watch the movements of the dragon. It seemed to be creating chaos as it soared through the streets and over the buildings until yet another screech filled the air. This time the dragon seemed to be in agony, and as Delia watched she could see something that looked as though it could be a man fall from the monsters back. The archdemon's wings no longer beat in a regular rhythm, and Delia could clearly see that its wing had been cut through. It settled on top of the highest building in the area – Fort Drakon.
Alistair and Aeden led their forces to the top of Fort Drakon as Riordan had directed. The senior warden intended to hobble the dragon so that they could use their blades to fight instead of simply arrows, but something went terribly wrong. Riordan had been able to jump onto the massive creature from one of the towers, but as he fought to hold on to its scales he lost his grip. Thrusting his blades into the monster, he managed to destroy one of its wings before he fell to his death in a street near the marketplace.
The remaining wardens were able to force the dragon to land on top of the fort, leaving them plenty of room to fight the archdemon without allowing many darkspawn to be summoned to its assistance. Between the arrows of the Dalish elves and the magic of the members of the Circle of Magi, the wardens could feel as the archdemon weakened. Alistair tried to rush forward and slay the beast, but was instead caught by its massive jaws. Warriors threw themselves at the creature's legs, trying to distract it. When they had successfully annoyed the monster sufficiently, it threw Alistair across the roof. Wynne immediately tended to his injuries, and he returned to the battle momentarily.
As the dragon turned its attention to the warriors hacking at its legs, Aeden thought he saw an opportunity to finish the beast. He lunged forward, only to be hit by the dragon's tail and knocked back into a wall, knocking him unconscious. Alistair saw his friend fly past and knew what he had to do.
"Please, Maker, watch over my Delia and help my child to rule Ferelden with courage and grace. Heal my country and help my people to work together. I do this for Andraste and all those who are dependent on me."
Raising his sword, the sword of his father, above his head, Alistair raised his final battle cry. "For Ferelden!" he shouted, as he ran at full speed toward the archdemon. He leaped onto the monster's head and, as time seemed to slow to a crawl, he plunged his sword deeply into the creature's massive skull. As he twisted the sword, a brilliant light poured from the sky, illuminating warden and monster as they performed what seemed to be a macabre dance. As the two collapsed, the light retreated back to the heavens, leaving the living baffled.
Suddenly the darkspawn started to flee from the battlefield. With the archdemon dead, there was no longer anything to give them direction. They sought their way back to the deep roads, the only place where the monsters had any sanctuary. As they withdrew, the living Fereldans shouted in triumph, their jubilation voiced by the thousands who did not know what price their country had just paid to end the Blight.
Delia saw the light as it illuminated the roof of the fort. She could feel the moment that her husband's heart stopped beating and knew what she had to do. Without a word to her father or brother, she started running against the flow of the retreating darkspawn. Griffon stayed at her side, but none of the monsters made any attempt to fight as she made her way through the horde. Her duty drove her to continue through the hundreds of corpses that lay throughout the city streets.
When she finally reached the doors of the fort, she had to jump over a mound of darkspawn corpses that had been killed as they tried to breach the door only to be cut down by Dalish archers. She raced through the hallways, following a sickening path of death to find her way to the roof. As she ran through the hallways, all she could think about were the three items in her pocket. She needed to do her part to save her country, and she needed to complete her task quickly.
Finally she reached the roof and looked around, momentarily blinded by the bright sun. The dragon corpse lay in a heap in the middle of the rooftop and Delia looked for her husband's corpse nearby. Aeden was directing several warriors as they were placing Alistair on a stretcher. Delia ran over and Zevran reached out and grabbed her arm.
"I think it is better if you do not see him this way, my dear. He would wish for you to remember him as he was." Zevran looked at her sadly, knowing her heart would be destroyed by Alistair's loss.
"But… I must get to him. There is something I must do." She looked at him imploringly, and with a nod he released her.
As she reached the corpse, she looked at Aeden and spoke softly. "Aeden, please, I need some… time alone with him."
Aeden motioned to the warriors to give her space. She knelt at her husband's side and gently kissed him. Then she placed the three small containers on his breastplate, noticing the huge bite mark that had destroyed his armor.
First she picked up the leather pouch that held the remaining ashes of Andraste. She stood up and looked to the sky as she opened the pouch and turned it inside out. "Dear Maker, allow these ashes of your beloved, Andraste, to heal the lands of Ferelden wherever the Blight has left its mark. May they also heal all of its peoples and help us to understand and appreciate each other so that we may live together and work for the advancement of every culture." She shook the ashes out of the pouch as she slowly turned in a circle. The ashes were carried off by a gentle breeze that seemed to arrive just in time to catch each tiny fragment.
Next she knelt at her husband's side and opened the tiny jar of ointment. She dipped her finger into the jar and scraped as much of the remaining balm from the sides and bottom as possible. Drawing the Maker's mark on Alistair's forehead, she gently spoke, "Dear Maker, as your beloved Andraste was killed and you mourned her, help me to mourn my beloved husband. Please repair his shattered soul and allow him to join you in your Golden City so that I may be reunited with him whenever you have in your plans for my death as you have Andraste at your side in her death."
The final part of the ritual was next. Gently she removed the wax seal from the bottle of Andraste's tears. She pulled out the stopper, and spoke once again. "Dearest Maker, I ask you to hear my prayers and help all of us to make Ferelden the country you wish us to be. With this tear, I add Andraste's own plea to my humble voice. She shed these tears for Ferelden, and I ask you to hear her prayers along with my own. Maker, watch over us all."
She allowed a single drop to fall from the bottle onto Alistair's forehead, right in the middle of the Maker's mark. Quickly she replaced the stopper, just in time for a strong wind to whip around her. Delia stood and reached her arms upward, just as a bolt of lightning shot through her from the cloud-free sky. She collapsed on top of her husband's corpse, darkness enfolding her like a welcome blanket.