Seen me around and want to hit me up for a thread? Drop a prompt or starter here and I'll run with it. Anything goes - gen, smut, horror, whatever takes your fancy.
[ At first, she had thought that it was the false Calling. It had been, for so many; even in and around the Deep Roads, she'd heard that the Grey Wardens were all hearing their Calling at the same time, panicking as death reached out with spindly fingers and beckoned them to death all at once. Luckily, the Inquisition had learned of the cause, along with a few of the stronger Wardens, but the toll was steep. Clarel and Erimond took things into their own hands, employing blood magic in a frantic and desperate attempt to save the order from complete extinction... though, thankfully, not all had gone along with the last-effort plan. While Wardens across Thedas feared that their ends had come, turned to forbidden magic and demons to save them, to try and prevent future Blights, it had been for nothing. The Calling was an imitation, and that knowledge had come at the price of countless lives on both sides of the field, and more.
Far from it all, away from Adamant when Alistair Theirin fell into the Fade and never came back, Robyn Cousland, the former Hero of Ferelden, knew her time had come. Immediately, and with deep, abiding regrets, she wrote to the handful of people close to her, to those she trusted. Without knowing the events of Adamant, she wrote to Alistair, too, and Leliana, who she knew was working within the Inquisition. I hear the music, Robyn said, and before she could actually up and go to the Deep Roads, the spymaster had turned up at her doorstep. So to speak, anyway; the Warden had been living in caves near Orzammar at the time and hadn't been surprised at all to see her old friend appear outside of it. Wearily, gratefully, Robyn reunited with Leliana, but it was far from an easy-going, social visit. After all, one of them was unquestionably dying, and the other one had bad news of her own.
Left in the Fade. Robyn's heart thudded dull and useless in her chest as it fought to both protect her from the taint and rebelled against what she'd heard. No. The Inquisitor hadn't been able to save them all, had needed to make a difficult decision. Robyn knows that need as well as anyone, having made more than one impossible choice, herself, but this one filled her with a bitter anger that was more or less completely unknown. The Warden had steeled her expression and kept any tears from falling, but Leliana knew, perhaps better than anyone, what the loss of Alistair meant to her. What it meant that she hadn't been there to save him. What it meant that she couldn't say goodbye.
... Except. Except, the real reason that the redhead had made the journey was to offer an alternative. One that she couldn't exactly provide, but that she could point out. So, without much choice and, really, with more hope than she'd felt in... years, Robyn set out with Leliana back to Skyhold. She'd never been to the fortress that belonged to the Inquisition, and as far as anybody else knew, she never would. Under cover of night, the pair slipped back into the mountain base, immediately went to the gardens that, now, were empty.
Except for two people. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him, a boy of (almost exactly) ten, dark in his features and very close to Morrigan's, except... the ears. Her breath catches almost painfully as a rush of mingled surprise, pain, and some other, indeterminable feeling overwhelms her. There isn't enough time to talk about it, but she manages a smile, and the boy, Kieran, manages one, too. Leliana, Morrigan, and Robyn stand together for the first time in a decade, eyeing each other with a lot unspoken and with the knowledge that it will be the last time.
"You gave him to me, once," Morrigan said, with a softness to her tone that the Warden hadn't expected. "'Tis only fair that I give him back to you."
It wasn't long after that, after short goodbyes and one, final ritual (for once, not involving blood magic) that Robyn found herself in the Fade. Physically in a Fade, in a way she had never been before, wide-eyed and afraid. Now, standing where she'd entered with no way back to Thedas, she finds herself much more unsure than she'd been just a moment ago. What if he's already-... But, she can't think that way, can't believe for a second that she won't have the time she so desperately needs with the person she loves and trusts more than anything. They'd promised to return to each other after her search for the cure, after his work with the Inquisition, yet here she is with that promise in limbo.
No. She steels herself, feeling much older than ever, and wanders into the wasteland, into the in-between world.
The Warden searches for what feels like days, though she knows from dreams that time is a vast illusion in the Fade. She has her weapons, encounters a demon or unfriendly spirit every so often, but nothing quite as terrifying as her own fears. If she comes across his body, if she's too late, then the trip might have been for nothing... if she hadn't already been dying, anyway.
It's a relief beyond reliefs when she sees something glinting in the distance, something she recognizes beyond a shred of doubt as the armor of a Grey Warden. More than that, she recognizes the body, the posture, the short slick of hair, even at a distance. She would know that man anywhere, and she feels dizzy with the knowledge that she hadn't been too late. That she wouldn't be made a liar. ]
What might such a handsome Grey Warden like yourself be doing in a place like this?
[ He may well think she's a demon, or a spirit, but Robyn is willing to try and prove herself to him for as long as she's still herself. Her voice carries in a strange echo across the distance between them. There's an emotional waver to it and her eyes, too far from Alistair for him to see, are glistening with the enormity of what she feels right now, with everything they've been through, with the knowledge that it's all coming to an end. Together, though. Together again, for good this time.
[It would have made a brilliant tale. Alistair of the Grey Wardens facing down a giant nightmare demon all alone, valiantly buying time for his companions to escape - it was just a pity about the ending. Good stories simply did not end with the hero wandering about the Fade until he died or went mad. Of course, he'd figured out a long time ago his life wasn't the sort that made for a good story. He was just a side character in other people's tales. He was alright with that but whoever was in charge could have written him a better ending.
Or one with better scenery at the very least. The Fade was not a pretty place when wide awake and the company rather left a lot to be desired.
He's been wandering aimlessly since the rift was sealed, the backlash tossing him free of the Nightmare and leaving him marooned the Maker only knew where. Which is likely the only reason he's still alive. His injuries from the fight have stopped hurting which may or may not be a good sign, and he has yet to grow hungry or thirsty - whether that is because of where he is or simply that very little time has passed it's impossible to tell. It feels like he's been here for years already yet he's no more in need of a shave than when the Inquisition's forces marched on Adamant.
Why the old Magisters ever wanted to enter the Fade he'll never know.
On the plus side, he does get plenty of visitors, even if he's yet to make any new friends no matter how hard they try. In fact, it looks like one is trying again right now. Alistair turns at the familiar voice, not even a little surprised to hear it here and now.]
Is that the best line you can come up with? It takes more than a little flattery to sweep me off my feet, I'll have you know.
[Smiling easily he draws his sword, still miraculously by his side, his gaze sweeping over the familiar form critically.
However long he's been here, this isn't the first time he's been approached by someone he knows. It had been difficult the first time a demon took Robyn's form. He'd known in his heart it couldn't really be her but it had been so long and he'd wanted to pretend so badly. There wasn't even the fear of doing harm to others should he let a demon influence him to hold him back - he was trapped here and the only one who could get hurt was him. It would have been easy to play along but it would have been a betrayal to the real Robyn, wherever she was. So in the end he'd driven it off and been left alone once more, however briefly.
Others had tried the same trick of course. Demons were nothing if not persistent. Robyn had appeared to him countless times in countless ways - rescuing, dreaming, dying, lost, waiting. Each one as false as the last.
They'd tried other guises too - his father, met only once in the Fade as well. Wynne as a spirit now herself, offering guidance once more. The Inquisitor and their allies come to bring him home. He'd almost believed the latter, hoping against hope that they'd found a way to open another rift and navigate the seemingly endless twists of the Fade just for him. But the Inquisition has bigger concerns than a single Grey Warden who chose his fate.
And the Hero of Ferelden has been gone on her quest for a cure since long before he wound up here.
Truthfully he can't raise his blade against it, not while the demon still wears Robyn's face but it will slip eventually. They all do. Until then it is nice to have a conversation with something that talks back for once.]
What brings you out here then? Come to see the sights? I'd offer you my map but I lost it the last time the floor decided it wanted to become the roof.
[It's very rude when that happens. And painful. And utterly disorientating which he guesses is rather the point, as though he could get much more lost.]
Oh, I know that. I wasn't the most practiced with my flirting, but it did take some gifts and suggestive comments to lure you into my tent.
[ She knows (already knew) that he believes her to be a demon. It's what she would think, and... honestly, what she had expected to find, herself. But, the demons haven't tried to win her over, and she suspects it's because she wouldn't be suitable for possession, having a failing body filled past its limits with the poison of the taint. It's fortunate that she hasn't had to spend much of her precious, remaining time warding off false Alistairs, seeing them in various states of death and despair, because convincing the real one of her identity won't be easy. ]
I am no demon. I'm the spirit of a woman much younger and much braver.
[ She quietly notes the sword, and in a distant, empty moment, considers what would happen if she rushed him. If he might kill her, a "demon" with Robyn's face. She'll have to seek out death sooner or later, a fate she's accepted, because the alternative, to rot away into a ghoul, isn't a choice at all. ]
We can just talk, if you like. [ No, she can't have him kill her without realizing who she is; the purpose of her finding him was to reunite, after all. To say goodbye. And... that would be too selfish, too horrible.
Robyn sits cross-legged on the ground, setting her crossbow aside. ]
I came here for... a few reasons. [ Briefly, she examines her fingers, calloused and rough from years of fighting. I'm hardly the girl who was taken from Highever all those years ago. ] But the most important was to find someone who gave his life to save others and to redeem a forsaken order. To seek out the Warden who made a promise and was left to die without saying goodbye to her.
[ Robyn eyes him from a short distance away, expression and tone anything but condemning. She can't help it; she blames the Grey Wardens for their weak minds, for blindly following a corrupted leader. She blames the Inquisition for having to sacrifice other people not in the organization because there was no other plan. She blames herself, most of all, for leaving the world worse than when she'd found it with no cure and, most crucially, without Alistair to carry on. ]
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword....
[ She whispers, breath catching, suddenly afraid, and anguished, and-
Calm. Time, time is running out, and what she can do is to talk to him, to be with him. To apologize. To say a real goodbye. ]
... I remember when we first went into the Fade, [ Robyn begins quietly, eyes closed, recalling. ] When I found you, they showed you... visions of Goldanna and her children, and I felt so awful at taking you from that.
[ The Warden opens her eyes again, frowning, looking intensely world-wearied. ]
I'm sorry you never found the family you wanted, Alistair.
[His blade wavers, dipping towards the ground as her - its - words seem to sap the strength from him. Swallowing against the tightness in his throat, Alistair forces his smile back, more of a pained grimace than anything now.]
That's just mean. And unnecessary.
[It's a good double, he'll give the demon that. One of the best he's seen. Most of the others have had something... off about them. They don't sound right somehow. They're just imitating emotions they've never felt and can't understand, going through the motions perfectly but there's no depth to it. Or perhaps he's fooling himself and it's just the fact that he knows that every time he sees her face or one of the other familiar faces that have appeared to him that it can't be anything but a denizen of the Fade. He's alone here and will be for as long as he has left.
And now this creature appears and has the nerve to know exactly what to say to hurt him. Because it sounds so much like his Robyn and he would have given anything for the chance to say goodbye, it's true.
Despite his better sense Alistair moves closer to where she sits, taking in all the little details, the work the demon has put into this disguise. The signs of corruption as her tainted blood gets the better or her, the weariness and sorrow in her eyes... His heart clenches painfully and he has to look away, turning his attention to the twisted, unnatural landscape around them.
It's a demon, not real. The real Robyn is still out there somewhere. She might have even found her cure by now. He knows it's possible, he spoke to Grand Enchanter Fiona himself, hoping she might be able to tell him something he could send on to his absent lover to aid her quest. There had been nothing but he knows it's possible to cure the taint. If anyone can manage it she can. She will. They'll never see each other again but if she can live a long, fulfilling life then he doesn't mind not being able to share it with her.
Or with the family he never had.
Shrugging he leans back against an outcropping that wasn't there a second ago, sword seemingly forgotten in his hand.]
I found what mattered. Or she found me. Not everyone gets that. To be happy.
[Looking down at the achingly familiar shape again he finds himself wondering about it. It doesn't seem to want anything from him. Maybe it's just being patient or maybe it really is willing to just talk. Whatever the reason, it's still not the same as seeing the real Robyn one last time.... but he can let himself have this for now.]
And we were happy. The Inquisitor asked me about that you know. If we'd been happy. At the time I thought, once all was said and done, we'd be together again. Forever. [He chuckles, shaking his head ruefully.] See how well that worked out. [Heaving a sigh he looks back at it.] I got more than I deserved, I just wish- Ah, what does it matter? You already know and it doesn't change anything.
[ The last thing she wants to do is to hurt him, but she knows he'll have to realize the truth in his own time. He's smart, but stubborn, like her. Grown distrustful and world-wearied after so much time and so much loss. Robyn watches as he gets closer, unsure if it's a good sign, or an indication that he's giving up. Her chest twists painfully, heart going out to him with all the energy it has. ]
You deserved so much more. [ She says gently, though the mention of the Inquisitor sends a flare of anger coursing through her. ] You deserve a long and happy life away from all this. Free of demons and of the taint.
[ At least he wouldn't die because of it. It's a horrible thought, but she's the tiniest bit thankful that he, at least, won't be killed at the hands of the darkspawn or its poison. If she has her way, it'll be the same for her, though even as she thinks it, there's a streak of pain as it settles into her blood, infecting every corner of her body, gradually transforming her from human to monster. She swallows with difficult, feeling like a child for the tears that sting at her eyes, and in her mind she hears "afraid, afraid, afraid," as if there's something in the Fade that's finally found something worth taunting her about, lost case though she is. ]
We will be together. [ At the end, and beyond, she thinks. ] Somewhere... much better than all this. Somewhere worthier of you.
[ Whether that be at the Maker's side or otherwise, she's always believed that there is (has to be) more after their deaths. That she'll see her family again, and the others they'd lost along the way. ]
... Alistair, please. [ The Warden says suddenly, almost desperately, as another sudden jolt pulses through her. Can he see it in my skin, in my eyes? ] I-... I know you don't believe me, and I can hardly blame you. I know what you must have seen in here and how hard is can be to forget. To believe.
[ To believe that there could be one, last chance for them to be together, for so many other things. Wildly, she thinks that she ought to have made some kind of list of all the things she wanted to say, that she should have written him another letter that would actually reach him... but, she hadn't done either of those things. ]
The music is so loud, now. [ Robyn whispers, pleading. ] I don't know how much longer I can stay.
[ She can't ask him to kill her if he still thinks she's a demon, after all, and the idea of having to walk away without him knowing that she'd come to see him is... excruciating. ]
And she didn't deserve to watch her family die and get dragged into the Wardens. [He offers the demon a half-smile.] I won't pretend I'm not grateful all the same. I'm too selfish to put her happiness before my own.
[Not completely. Oh, he'd do anything for Robyn, to make her happy. But he's still perversely grateful for the murder of her family. If Howe had never turned on them then the two of them would have never met. And looking back he can't imagine getting to this point without her.
...Well. Getting to the point of standing against the entire order when they started talking about blood magic. The getting trapped in the Fade was definitely all him.]
So maybe this is entirely worthy of me.
[It is oddly comforting though, the demon's - spirit's? - words. A reminder that somewhere beyond this they'll see each other again. Free of the taint and duties and quests and everything that's kept them apart over the years. It's something to hold on to, even as he watches the apparition struggle against some illusory pain, mirroring the spreading darkness it pretends to feel.
Something else the demon says tugs at him in the wake of its impressively emotional plea. The music, the taint... It's the strangest thing. Has he felt the corruption in the previous 'Robyns' who appeared? It's there now, as strong and familiar as anything. None of the others he's seen were claiming to be feeling the true Calling so it had no reason to be this strong. But he can't recall any of them giving a sense of the taint that should have been in their blood. This one has copied it perfectly and the realisation claws at him with uncertainty.
He shifts back, hand flexing on the hilt of his sword as he stares at it suspiciously, silent in the face of its plea.
Finally, slowly, Alistair closes the remaining distance between them and drops to one knee in front of... whatever this is. His blade stays between them, resting lightly against his upraised knee as a barrier should it decide to attack. Carefully he reaches out to cup her chin in his free hand, studying a face he knows as well as his own. It's changed now, reminding him of the poor souls he's seen who'd succumbed to the taint. If this were real she wouldn't have long.
He remembers the music she speaks of too well. The false Calling at the least. Surely she can't be hearing it, can't be this far gone. Not the real Robyn. She's found a cure to this and is out there somewhere, cleaning up Clarel's mess or helping the Inquisition stop Corypheus or something. Anything.
She can't truly be here, almost lost to the corruption. It can't be.]
You're lying. [Even to himself it sounds like a plea.] You're just another demon.
[His hand tightens unconsciously on her jaw, his own drawing tight with pain and uncertainty.]
How could she have even gotten here? Why even come looking for me? Tell me that, if you expect me to believe you.
You are about as far from selfish as anyone could be.
[ Either king, thankless servant to his country, or Grey Warden, thankless servant to his country. Alistair's life has been trial after trial, and yet he smiles and laughs and brings the same to others. Her heart aches, looking at him surrounded by the twisted darkness of the Fade, left behind by people who didn't know him, who didn't love him. He saved them, she reminds herself patiently, but the words sit on her shoulders like weights rather than sinking in as truth.
No, he doesn't deserve this. Not at all. And she isn't so masochistic to think that she does, either; in fact, there are few people that she would say do deserve being abandoned in the Fade, still alive and left to wander and die alone. Still, it's difficult not to feel pinpricks of self-loathing as she thinks of the people she'd let down by failing to find a cure, of the work that could have been done if she'd survived to help rebuild. If she'd been able to take Alistair's place at Adamant so that he, at least, could live.
He approaches and she doesn't move, not wanting to startle him into action. Really, she's also feeling tired, weak in body and mind, and it's all she can do to not let herself fall into his arms and stay there until she isn't herself anymore.
Instead she keeps very still, moving only to gently cover his hand in one of her own at her jaw, the touch of a ghost. ]
Morrigan. [ Robyn says softly, knowing the animosity he and the apostate have always had (though, she isn't sure how much, if at all, they spoke during his work with the Inquisition, since she had also been there, in Skyhold). ] She was able to send me into the Fade, but she warned that it would be a one-way trip.
[ Of course. If it were that easy to traverse the Fade, physically, then the world would be a very different place. She manages a fleeting, pained smile as his grip on her tightens. ]
I think she wanted to thank me. [ The Warden whispers. ] For Kieran.
[ For indirectly giving her a son. What had it meant, the soul of an old god in that little boy? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had the time to scrutinize. He'd seemed so normal and now she would never know what it had meant that she'd convinced the man she loved (loves, always) to lie with another woman that night. To trust her enough to go into the arms of someone he hated to save them both.
Now that they're both dying only a decade later with not much time spent together in between, she wonders with a rattling emptiness if it had even been worth it. ]
I came here because I had to. I promised. [ Her voice shakes a little, wavering with the emotion that threatens to overtake her. ] I would never leave you alone. I wouldn't have stopped until I found a way, no matter what the cost.
[ Though, she hadn't even paid for this trip. The taint that was taking her life so much more quickly than it should is her own fault. ]
I would do anything for you, no matter how impossible.
[Her hand is pale against the dark leather of his glove, the skin mottled with dark patches. The touch of one almost consumed by the taint. Or a very good imitation of it.
The explanation for her presence is painfully believable. If anyone could manage this feat it would be Morrigan. It seems she's only grown more knowledgeable - more dangerous maybe - since they first met all those years ago. And yet he remembers seeing her with the boy - their son, as much as it aches to admit that fact. She'd been good with him. A good mother, surprisingly enough, and being one had changed her. Morrigan herself had scoffed when he'd said as much but it was true. She cared for her son, anyone could see that and it was reassuring to know that Kieran was being raised by someone who loved him.]
You met him?
[He can't help but ask. It tugs at him, the thought of Robyn and Kieran meeting. Of course she knew about him, had been the one to talk Alistair himself into the ritual that had saved their lives. But knowing that he had a child out there and meeting him were two very different things. If Robyn had seen Kieran herself it couldn't have been easy for her - serving as another reminder of the things she'd given up when she joined the Wardens.
He'd wondered, after seeing Kieran the first time, what he would have looked like with Robyn as his mother. What it would have been like to make themselves a family, free of the Wardens and the taint and everything. It's too late for that now but he would have liked to be there when they met. For her sake.
When she mentions their promise to each other he shakes his head, trying to deny what he's hearing. Finally Alistair lets the sword drop and clatter to the ground between them, hands shifting to grip her shoulders tightly.]
Please. [The word is barely a whisper, laced with desperation.] Tell me this is all just some demon's ploy. I'll let you take whatever you want from me. Everything. Just tell me it's a lie.
[In his heart he knows it's true. The sense of the taint within her, the way she knows exactly what to say, her courage in the face of death. The promises they made. The sheer depth of feeling in every word. It's his Warden, his Robyn, really here in front of him. Trapped, just like him, while the corruption within her steals the life from her even faster than the Fade could.
Still, he pleads, wanting desperately to be wrong.]
Tell me she's fine. You can even tell me she's fallen in love with some... Orlesian dandy and they've run off together and never once think of me. I won't mind.
[Better that than they both die here, after everything they've been through. The Maker can't be that cruel. Not after everything they've already sacrificed for the greater good. She deserves more than to end like this.]
I did. [ Briefly, the most fleeting of moments. Morrigan had been trying to talk her out of what she'd asked, unsurprisingly, but gave in before too long (it wasn't as if Robyn could survive beyond that, anyway, with the taint). Leliana, sharp as always, had watched discretely as the Warden cast little glances at the boy who was Alistair's and not hers. She remembers that night as if it had been one day earlier, when every fiber in her being had say no, but she'd convinced him anyway, unable to imagine him lying cold in her arms, but perfectly able to imagine him rushing past her to make the final blow. She could give her own life in an instant, but if there was something to keep him alive, anything-
And he'd thought he was selfish. She utters a tiny, dry sob, overwhelmed with all the things that the two of them together had been through, how it's all come down to this. Two Grey Wardens, heroes of the Fifth Blight, dying together, and alone, in another world. ]
He seemed good, Alistair. [ She says, hand still covering his. ] A normal boy.
[ Maybe not normal, exactly, but not darkspawn. Not a demon. Just a little boy with a strange story and Alistair's ears.
The sword falls and she starts, senses somehow ramped up, now, just before the end. He grabs to steady her and she lets it happen, feeling more and more as if the most perfect thing in the world would be to lean in to his touch and let herself slip away... except, that isn't an option at all, and so she steels herself, feeling crushed beneath the anguish that he gives off like waves of heat.
Should she have spared him this grief and lied? Acted the part of a demon, not been quite so... herself, and let him ignore or kill her? If he believed that the real Robyn was somewhere else, living a long and happy life, would he have been a little happier, here, even alone and dying? But, even as she tries to picture it, she knows that it would be going against everything they'd built their relationship on. Not kindness, but truth. She had told him all she knew about the dark ritual and he had gone through with it. Not kindness, but truth. She had left in search of the cure and left him because someone had to guide the Wardens when there was no one left. Not kindness, but truth.
And now- ]
An Orlesian? [ Suddenly, she laughs, very brief and breathless. ] Now you're just being insulting.
[ Maybe the Maker is cruel. All her life, she's believed in Him, but they're taught that He abandoned them for their sins. Still, she believes in Him, but she also believes in Alistair. Believes that there has to be something better for people like him, for all of their friends.
He's gripping her shoulders, and she moves to cup his face, as if they're finally seeing each other for the first time. ]
I would sooner enter the Fade to die than marry an Orlesian. [ Robyn says finally, smiling as much as her broken heart will allow. ]
[Not exactly a normal boy, no. But a good one maybe. One who will grow into a good man he hopes. He should have been ours he wants to say but it's too late for that. For both of them. It was too late when they met and it's far, far too late now.]
I've met some reasonable Orlesians.
[He laughs along with her because what else is there to do?
It's real. Not a demon's trick but the real Robyn Cousland, Hero of Ferelden, here with him. Trapped and tainted and dying, just the two of them alone in the Fade.]
I'm sorry. I thought-
[He shakes his head, eyes closing as he leans into her hands. She knows what he thought and why. He still wishes it were true, that this was a demon and he could picture her happy and safe somewhere. But it would be so much worse to let her die alone in the Deep Roads without him. He would have followed her without question if her Calling came before his. Instead here they are. Maybe it's not so different in the end.]
You didn't find it. The cure.
[It had seemed such an impossible task when they first spoke of it but he'd thought if anyone could do it she could. She's achieved so much that had seemed impossible at first, he'd hoped this would just be another impossibility added to her list of accomplishments. And instead here she is, the true Calling having come for her while he wasn't there.
It's real.
Robyn is here with him. Dying here with him.
Making a soft, choked sound Alistair pulls her closer and wraps his arms around her, face pressed against her neck.
He must have had a thousand conversations with her in his head while he was stuck here alone. There's so much he wants to say and now that she's here most of it seems so pointless. Everything but-] I'm sorry. Maker, I'm so sorry. I should have-
[He stops. Should have what? Much as he hates knowing she came to this point alone, what could he have done differently? Even if he'd known how little time she had left and what awaited him at Adamant, the Wardens had needed to be stopped. They could have destroyed all of Thedas if they weren't. But it feels so damned unfair. Wasn't stopping the Blight enough? Why did it have to be them standing against the order? Them giving up what time they had together for a world that scarcely seems to remember them? It's not fair and while that's nothing new, this injustice cuts deeper than most.
Pulling back eventually he attempts a smile, just as fragile and wavering as her own is.]
I'm glad I rank higher than marrying an Orlesian. You're too beautiful a sight to miss.
[Falling prey to the taint or not, she truly is. Beautiful as they day they first met.]
[ No. She hadn't found the cure. It would be her biggest failure, her biggest regret, the mistake that haunted her into death and after, she thinks. Despite years of searching, of investigations and interrogations, of all the time she'd spent alone all over Thedas, mostly in the Deep Roads, held together only by the idea of sparing the lives of the other Wardens and, most of all, of being able to save Alistair's life as he had hers, to be able to have normal lives and a family together after so many trials. They had done what the Maker called for and more, more than most, but it hadn't been enough.
Regret is in every inch of her face as she shakes her head, trying very hard to find the words to give voice to how she'd let them all down. ]
I couldn't. [ She laments, voice again wavering. ] I did everything I could think of, I looked... everywhere. I thought I had it, I tried more than once, and I think it... did the opposite, really. Made the taint more aggressive, rather than eliminating it.
[ Robyn attempts a smile as if to say "and here I am," but it comes off as crushed, vastly unhappy with her own efforts. With her results, or lack thereof. ]
... But, in the end, I accomplished nothing and saved no one. Even if I had found a cure, it would never have reached you. [ Another failing. She tightens her hands into fists as they slip from his face to atop his shoulders, shaking. ] It should have been me there, not you. They looked for me, but I kept on with the search, and you had to be the one to step forward. You were brought here and I wasted years.
[ With nothing to show for it except her failing body. At the word beautiful she laughs abruptly, almost dryly, and has to look away as a flush of shame reddens her pale cheeks. ]
You- Don't. [ Tears sting fresh at her eyes and she drops her hands, closing in around herself, overcome. ] I know what... what I am.
[ What I look like, too, not that it matters. It's just another reminder, though, of what's happened to her. Of what will still happen, and not too much farther into the future.
Finally, she pushes herself to meet his eyes again, to search his face. He looks so alive, still, healthy and whole, except that he's in the Fade. It hurts her more intensely than the taint ever could. ]
I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you. [ "Before." ] I wrote, before I heard about Adamant, but... they say that couriers aren't especially fond of delivering into the Fade.
[ Maker, if jokes could save them. If anything could. ]
[All that work to try and save them and all it resulted in was her speeding her own death. The irony is almost too much to bear. It's worse knowing for a fact that it is possible for a Warden to be freed from the taint, having met those who found an escape from their fate himself. But there's no escaping it for them. For her. He wouldn't have even cared if Robyn only managed to save herself and no one else. But even that is too much to ask it would seem.]
You tried. That counts for something.
[Even if it failed. Even if he wishes now she hadn't, if it meant she might have survived a few more years. Or maybe she wouldn't have, given it was her quest that had kept her away from the fight with the Wardens. She could have no more sat back and let them turn to blood magic than he could.]
You know I wouldn't have let you face Clarel and the rest of them alone if you had been there. We both would have wound up here, even if you had stayed.
[His voice catches as he speaks. Would the battle have gone any differently with her there? Would more Wardens have been willing to listen to the Hero of Ferelden and not fallen prey to the Venatori? There's no way to know now and nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. They're here now and all he can do is make the most of this moment.
Stroking her cheek gently Alistair refuses to look away from her, his gaze soft as he watches her.]
What you are is the woman I feel in love with. Nothing will ever change that. No taint or demon or even the Maker Himself.
[Her current appearance is just a reminder of how much she'd given up for the hope of a future. It hurts to see her like this but he could never turn his back on her for it. Not when, even at their worse, she still manages remind him of the many reasons he fell in love with her. Chuckling softly he hums in agreement. Leliana would have done everything in her power to track Robyn down and inform her of his fate but even she had limits.]
No, they're strangely reluctant. Even Leliana's ravens don't like coming here. It's rather selfish if you ask me.
[Cradling her face he leans in to kiss her softly, turning serious once more as he pulls back.]
I'm glad you came. I hated not being able to say goodbye.
[Even if he'd never wanted it to happen like this. Better this perhaps than a lonely death in the Deep Roads though. And they're both stuck here now and no amount of wishing will change that.]
[ Yes, she tried and failed. They'd both set out on missions that would end up taking their lives, and it needles at her painfully, more so than the blight sickness. There's a brief, watery smile, because she knows that they would have fought, if they were together, would have argued about who should stay and who should go, and in the end, it's entirely possible that the pair of them would have remained in the Fade together. In death, sacrifice. A sacrifice in the name of Thedas (not the Inquisition, perhaps) and for the Grey Wardens is as good a death as any.
... But,it hadn't happened that way for Robyn. She hadn't been able to help any of their order, whether at Adamant or with a cure for the taint. Though she doesn't want to waste time voicing her regrets to him any longer, they fester in her heart, twisting with agonized thorns.
His declaration of love draws them back a little, though. She can remember as clearly as anything the early stages of their relationship, the easy banter of fellow Wardens, as friends, and then the hesitant admissions of feelings. What had been light and playful became deep and vulnerable and quiet nights of honest discussions near the campfire are as vivid in her memory as the Fade around them. ]
You've grown so much. [ Is what she says, adopting a ghostly smile, still with a hand cupping his jaw. ] We both have.
[ From essentially children to a man and woman devoted body and soul to their cause and to each other: the two reasons they'd ended up here in the first place. His kiss is like a breath of fresh air in the stale, unnatural wisps of the Fade, and she leans into it, eyes fluttering shut. Too quickly it's over and he withdraws, taking little pieces of her heart with him. ]
One of us has to keep our promises. [ Robyn chides, almost playful. Then, there's a sharp gasp as she jerks inward, curling into herself and whining softly. It zaps through her veins like an electric shock, but one that doesn't stop immediately. When it does, she's left shaking, hands gripping tight around herself, fingers digging into graying skin. ]
I don't know how long it takes. [ Her voice wavers and she looks up into his face, again stricken by how alive he looks, how normal and healthy. Maker, how could you bring him here and abandon him? Why him, after everything? ] ... Alistair, I can't-... become one of them. A ghoul, or-
[ A broodmother. She shudders, drawing further into herself, panic welling up like a dam about to burst. ]
[He cuts himself off as she gasps, trembling and curling in on herself in pain. There's nothing he can do to ease it, nothing to do but offer what little comfort he can, rubbing her upper arms and holding her close in a pitifully inadequate attempt to soothe.
When it finally passes Alistair finds himself unable to speak, heart plummeting before she even voices her plea. When she does he has to look away, eyes closing as if he can block it all out somehow.
He's seen his share of ghouls, those left still suffering even after the Blight was stopped, and it's a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. And that's still nothing compared to the horror of the broodmothers. He can't let Robyn succumb to that. Just the thought of the light going out of her eyes, of her becoming some mindless creature.... It's too much to bear.]
You won't. I promise. I won't let that happen.
[Throat tight he turns back to her, reaching out to brush her cheek with trembling fingers. Abruptly he pulls his hand back with a muffled curse and yanks both gauntlets off, tossing them aside carelessly. Hands bared so he can feel her this one last time he cradles her face, resting their foreheads together and taking a moment to just breathe her in.
Some selfish part of him wants to beg her not to ask this of him. How can he be expected to end the life of the woman he loves? But the question answers itself - he loves her too much not to. He can't let her be lost to the taint and to take one's own life is a sin. His distress is nothing in the face of her own and everything she'll lose if the corruption claims her.
There should be something else he can say, something to make this easier for them both. He's never run short of words before, why won't any come now?
Finally, after far too long a silence he manages to find his voice, strained as it is.]
Robyn, I- [He stops, takes a deep, shuddering breath.] I'd do it all again, every bit, if it meant I still got to spend what time we had together. I love you. With everything I have and I always will. I want you to know that.
[It's little enough in the face of the inevitable but it's all he can offer.]
[ It's a somehow unexpected relief when skin meets skin, when he removes the gloves to touch her face, to press their foreheads together for one of the last times. The positive storm of storm makes her dizzy with how overwhelming it is. Gingerly, she slips off her own, thinner gloves and lets them fall, raising her own hands to thumb at his cheeks in return.
Love had always been a fantasy-like concept that she imagined (hoped) she'd have for herself one day, but this isn't anything she could have dreamed up as a younger woman. It digs into her heart with painful, unyielding claws, squeezes uncomfortably now in their shared misery. And yet... she has no trouble at all remembering the early days, the flutter of nerves, the incredible lightheartedness of their relationship through a battle-torn country. It's why she's able to keep composed now, to avoid just absolutely falling to pieces at his touch. ]
I love you, too. [ The Warden replies softly. ] Nothing could, or will, change that. I can't begin to put into words all you've done for me, what it's all meant, and... what you mean to me. Nothing I could say would be enough.
[ It would be easier to die, now, before she has any chance to change her mind. But... she's never been one to take the easy way out. ]
I won't leave you alone here. [ Robyn says abruptly, firmly, looking into his eyes. ] I can still fight; this can still be our Deep Roads. If not, then... I have some time yet. I won't leave you for as long as I am myself.
[ No, she can't appear and immediately ask him to take her life. Really, she would risk turning into a monster to give him more time, would do anything for him whether he asked or no. ]
Even then, even-... even after. We won't ever be apart, not really.
[Closing his eyes again, Alistair leans into her touch and takes a moment to gather himself. He has to be strong, the last thing Robyn needs is for him to give in to his grief. He'd known since the Inquisitor chose him to stay behind that he would die here and while he'd hoped that she would still get to live a full life back in the real world, that is not to be either. This is where they are and, as always, they have no choice but to face what's before them as best they can. Whatever that requires.
And yet he can't pretend it's not a relief when Robyn looks at him and promises to stay. The last thing he wants is to be left here alone once again, covered in the blood of the one person who's been his home, his family, his happiness throughout the years. Even with there being no lack of demons for him to throw his life away fighting - and he would have done exactly that had she asked of him what he feared - it would have been difficult not to give in to despair.]
Yes. Please. [It's desperate but he can't find it in him to feel guilty for that.] We can make sure there's a few less bad dreams here for everyone. That seems a fitting end for a pair of old Wardens.
[Summoning the ghost of a smile Alistair takes her hands, squeezing gently.]
I know. Forever.
[Wherever they go once it's over, they'll find each other. It's easier to believe than ever with Robyn here with him now. Humans haven't physically walked in the Fade since Corypheus was just a man and he only wound up here through an accident no one had seen coming. And yet she'd found a way to follow him. With help, true, but if something in the next world sought to keep them apart it seems like it couldn't possibly be up to the task.]
You know I'll find a way to follow you as soon as I can if you go before me.
[If they don't fall together. They've been apart too long to keep her waiting.]
[ Maybe the afterlife would be different. If they found themselves at the Maker's side, finally, as she's always believed, then maybe He would give them the chance to be happy and safe and together forever. And... if He didn't, then she would find Alistair anyway. Her faith is no less strong than it's been in the past, which is precisely why she's so sure that the pair of them wouldn't be separated for good. Not ever. ]
A fight, then. [ She breathes, and works on getting back to her feet. If they're going to go down battling demons, then it needs to begin soon. If she isn't going to give in to the awful transformation, then she has to act quickly.
Die quickly. Robyn swallows hard, with no intention of becoming a ghoul or throwing her life away. Instead, the Warden rises, pressing briefly on the other's shoulder to steady herself, offering a faint, fleeting smile. ]
Set our course. You know the Fade better than I do.
[ Having explored it so thoroughly with the Inquisition and after. Though she lets him lead, to pick a direction for their last battle, she slips her hand, still ungloved, in his, leaves the accessory behind. Her fingers twine between his and she squeezes, leaning over to press a kiss to the arm she's holding. ]
Leliana sends her love. [ Robyn says quietly, pained at the loss of her closest friend, along with everything else. At least the spymaster had gotten the opportunity to pass on a message, though she was brief, her true feelings always locked deep down, these days. ] She promised to speak with Fergus, too.
[ Her brother had to hear that she'd died, after all, but Robyn had wanted to give him the truth. Since it couldn't come from the Warden herself, and since a letter would hardly do it justice, Leliana had offered to visit and explain, despite her business with the Inquisition. ]
[Maybe it's appropriate. They'd met during the Blight, and fell for each other over the course of those many battles against the darkspawn. And now they'll die in battle. As Grey Wardens always have.
Rising as well, Alistair snorts in amusement.] I don't know that anyone human can really know this place.
[Still he has enough of an inkling to guide them. If he knew where to find it he'd track down the Nightmare that caused so many of the order's problems so they could try to avenge the Warden's honour. But he'd have gone after it already if that were possible. All he can do is lead the way towards a spot he remembers demons crowding about - a place where the Veil is weak maybe. Whatever the reason behind it, there should be enough of them there to give two Wardens a fight for their lives.
As they walk, side-by-side, he tries to savour these last moments alive together. Smiling weakly down at Robyn he squeezes her hand in return and leans over to kiss the top of her head, trying to pretend the signs of corruption are just the dirt and weariness that come from a long journey.]
I had a chance to talk to her while I was with the Inquisition. [However briefly, given all that had been going on. It seems a wasted opportunity now. Much like the brief moments spent talking to Morrigan while Kieran was out of earshot.] She's doing well. [Guarded and more pragmatic than she used to be but who could blame her after everything that had happened? She's not the only one who had to grow up.]
...I'm sorry you couldn't say goodbye yourself.
[She should have had more time with all that was left of her family. Finding Fergus Cousland alive all those years ago had been a much deserved blessing but their duty with the Wardens had always come before family. And now it's too late.]
Really? I was under the impression you all got the grand tour from an enormous demon.
[ Every so often, as they're walking along, she finds herself humming to music only she can hear. She has to stop herself abruptly, breathing deep to shake the pain and the panic, but unable to remove the song from within her blood. Instead, she focuses on him, on the warmth of his hand in hers, so vivid and alive. If there was a single thing she could think to do that would save him from the Fade, since he doesn't have the same, immediate certainly of death that she does... but, she knows it's impossible. If there were a way to save either of them, she has no doubt that either Leliana or Morrigan would have spoken up.
Robyn brings his hand to brush against her lips, pressing them, lingering there, wishing for all the world that things had been different. ]
Did you? [ She'd known that the spymaster had spoken with Alistair when they'd both been at Skyhold, but she hadn't been sure for how long they'd been in the same place. Her heart aches for how long it'd been since she'd really seen her closest friend, for how they'd been physically apart for far too long. ] ... I'm glad. I know she's changed, but it's to be expected. I only hoped she was happy.
[ Is she, though? After all, 'doing well' and surviving aren't quite the same as happiness. Again, overcome with sadness for their shared fates (though more so for his), she draws close so there's little space between their sides, just taking in every second of his presence. ]
I tried to think if there was a way, but above all else, I had to find you. That took long enough. I- [ She looks up at him, brow furrowed. ] ... I was so afraid I would get here to find you already gone. Or that I wouldn't be able to find you at all.
[ She didn't want to die alone, but much more than that, she wanted to be able to see him one last time. To apologize, to thank him, to say their farewells. ]
Don't let what you've heard fool you. Demons are terrible hosts.
[The humming almost stops his heart the first time he hears it. The sound can't come close to capturing the song he remembers from all that time spent hiding out alone, with nothing to drown out the relentless music in his head but it's still identifiable. His grip tightens on Robyn's hand a little more each time, though there's not a thing he can say to fix this. For the first time he wishes he could still hear the false Calling. It wouldn't change anything but maybe it would help her not to be going though this entirely alone.]
She is. I'm sure of it. [In truth he can't say if it's the truth. Leliana had seemed satisfied with the Inquisition and she believed in what they were doing. But happy? That's harder to judge. It doesn't matter. All their friends and family have to fend for themselves now. They can't do anything else for them. If it will comfort Robyn to hear that Leliana is happy that's what he'll tell her and hope that it's true.
As Robyn draws closer Alistair tugs his hand free gently and wraps it around her shoulders, holding her as tightly as he can. It's more awkward walking this way but he doesn't care. This is one of his last chances to hold her, he's not going to pass that up. Not knowing she gave up the chance to say goodbye to her brother for him.]
I'm glad you did too. I thought I'd- [Die facing the demon. He shakes his head silently. He didn't. He's here and they're together. Rather than worry over what could have happened he squeezes her shoulder and presses a kiss to her brow as she looks up at him.] I got your letter. I should have written you something. Just in case.
[But he'd thought he'd see her again for sure. Or maybe he simply hadn't wanted to admit that he might fall in battle against his fellow Wardens. Would it have made a difference if Leliana had had a letter to give Robyn? If he'd said goodbye in some small way without her searching him out? She would still have been dying and maybe would have gone into the Deep Roads alone instead, to die a lonely death.]
All these years, I thought they were known for their hospitality. I've really been taken in.
[ How they manage to joke around everything else... isn't too much of a surprise. They've kept things light throughout every piece of their journey, together and apart. It's helped to keep treading water when things seemed to threaten to drown them. It's why she doesn't even notice her own humming; the banter lets her slip into memories, images of their party laughing and talking around a fire. Of Leliana, now, happy in her mountain base, as Alistair's said she is. Of Alistair himself, ten years younger, pantomiming a scene as he tells a story that has most of them in stitches.
He draws her in closer and she presses her head tight to his side, not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder. ]
I told the Inquisitor I wouldn't lose you to their cause. [ She says, voice shaking a little again, the fond memories breaking apart in the face of the Fade, distorted and deadly, the crushing weight of their shared endings soon upon them. ] Andraste preserve me, if I hadn't been looking for the cure, if I'd gone with Leliana and joined the Inquisition, I might have- you could have-
[ Who can say if she would have been able to save his life? She would have easily given her own for Thedas, just as she would have for Ferelden. She would have done all that in tenfold for him, if it meant any chance of Alistair being safe.
The Warden swallows a lump in her throat with difficulty. Each step seems more and more difficult, now, but it wouldn't be for much longer. Not far ahead is a cluster of demons, prowling aimlessly, likely drawn, as he'd suspected, to a weakness in the Veil. Robyn stops walking, staring at it, hesitating before they draw close enough to attract the beasts' attention. ]
Maybe we can find a way- If the Veil is torn, you could get through. [ She begins, trying not to sound as desperate as she feels, mind and soul now put entirely to the task of finding a way for him to live. Maker, please, grant me this one thing. ] There may still be a way.
[He shakes his head, tightening his grip around her briefly.]
A lot of things might have happened. I might have been the one looking for the cure. [And wound up in the same state she is, or worse.] One of us could have been caught by the order before they could be stopped. You might have been at the Conclave when it was attacked. [It's impossible to say what might have been. If there was a way they could have avoided this. Even if they had, sooner or later they'd have both succumbed to the taint regardless.] We're together now. That's enough for me.
[He might wish their lives had taken a different path but at the very least in this moment they have each other. He'll be grateful for that if nothing else.
Alistair stops as well when the demons come into view, sizing them up automatically. Neither one of them is in top form at the moment and their odds of surviving aren't good. So it's fortunate that's what they're both here for, even if Robyn doesn't entirely agree.]
No. [Stepping in front of her Alistair cradles her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks. He stands there, memorising her features for the last time, a wistful smile wiping away the sorrow of a moment ago.] I'm not going anywhere Robyn. Not any more. [He leans down to kiss her softly, heedless of the visible corruption within her.] I love you.
[There's other reasons he could give - he's already presumed dead, no one out there needs him, his own Calling must be drawing close already - but none of them are the ones that matter. There's only one thing that truly means anything any more.]
I'm not leaving your side ever again. I swear it. I won't let you die alone.
[ He's right, though it pains her endlessly to hear. Any change might have brought them straight back here, or worse. They could die apart, in more gruesome ways, as so many other Wardens had. Blood sacrifices, for example, for a desperate ritual. No matter the choices they made, the taint would have drawn their lives to early closes, anyway. If they're here and able to be together, even in the face of violet ends, then...
He touches her face and she raises her hands over them, savoring the last moment, praying for it to stretch on forever. But, it can't, and it doesn't, and they kiss and break apart and the Warden knows in her gut that it's time. ]
I love you, too. [ She replies, voice no longer shaking as a heavy curtain drapes over her heart. ] I will fight by your side and try to protect you until I fall. I would do it all again to be with you, to have lived so much of my life with you in it.
[ Robyn rises to her toes to press a lingering kiss to his forehead, and lowering down, she speaks against his ear: ] "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."
[ There's one more, breathless moment as she looks into his eyes, the weight of it all hanging there, and then... she moves. The crossbow is taken from her back as it has so many times before, falling easily into her hands now streaked with black poison. Robyn hones in on one of the many monsters, a terror demon, who sees her from a distance and tears a hole in the ground of the Fade, slipping into a sickly-green vortex and vanishing. She sees the shift at her feet and rolls out of the way just in time as it leaps up from within, shrieking angrily and whipping around. The demon raises its head, letting its gaping mouth fall, and releases a series of piercing cries that shoot through her head as if they were blades. She winces, but can't reach up to clap hands over her ears with the weapon in her head. Instead, she aims for its many eyes through the pain and fires; the bolt lodges itself there and the terror cries out in pain, stopping its shrill attack. The beast stalks toward her, but she's quicker than it can get to her, and the demon has a head full of bolts before it can touch the Warden and it collapses at her feet.
Much of the battle goes this way. The demons here aren't endless, and she's just thinking wildly, almost hilariously, that they'll have to find another spot as the numbers thin out. They're both seasoned fighters, after all, and though they don't have a holy mark to seal the rifts, they can handle demons well enough. In her sights is a despair demon, hooded and floating, and she's just reloaded her crossbow when it sends a stream of ice across the battlefield. Robyn cries out as it covers one side of her body, missing her center and head but layering a third of her in ice. Her left leg up to her shoulder are encased swiftly in a heavy ice and she struggles to free her other arm, vital in fighting within her style, as the despair demon bounces her way. Just as it's close enough to show its ugly face, screaming in an eerie, otherworldly way, the Warden drops her crossbow and throws a dagger with precision and force enough to land it in the center of its mask and the beast falls, then disappears.
She's just considering the potential to fire a bolt with one arm until the ice melts when a blinding pain momentarily eliminates her vision. It's a red haze, her mind swimming, and it takes more time than it should for her to look down and notices that something has struck her straight through the middle, torn through in an angry red. Automatically, she clutches at the wound and turns as much as she can; a greater terror is lurking nearby, deadly-sharp claws bright red with her blood, studying her to see if, perhaps, she'll still fight.
She won't. She can't. This is finally it.
Robyn coughs suddenly, a spatter of crimson, and doubles over forward. The ice hasn't quite melted, making it all the more painful as she stands half-collapsed with a gaping injury where the demon impaled her. Of course, this had never been a fight for them to win. Even if they had eliminated a number of the demons, there would always be one more, one more ready to fight than they were.
Dying doesn't seem to have a sweet embrace, she thinks dimly, only half-aware that she wants very much to look over to Alistair on last time. Dying is cold and vicious and cruel. ]
[Alistair closes his eyes as she kisses him for the final time, feeling steadier than he has since first hearing the false Calling. He looks down at her again and their eyes meet. Whatever regrets he might have, right then he can believe that there's nothing left unsaid between them. Nothing that truly needs to be said.
And then Robyn is gone, throwing herself at the demons, crossbow in hands. Alistair charges after her, sword bared, the fractured remnants of his shield on his arm. The demons are quick to come for them when they make their presence known. Even as he sees the terror leap up from where Robyn had been standing a moment ago his attention is pulled away by a wash of heat from a rage demon. It comes at him swiftly, claws and flames doing their best to destroy what's left of his shield. He doesn't have time to keep watching her, just has to trust in her skills as he has for years.
They fight well together. They have plenty of practice and the demons fall before them in droves. There's blood trickling down his face and side from several claw-marks and his blade drips with ichor but the demons are thinning with no newcomers to replace them. It's almost enough to make him laugh, that even when seeking a final battle it seems they can still triumph. If they do succeed in slaying all the demons in the area they will simply end up searching for more and yet he can't deny a certain pride at the knowledge. Whatever they've lost they are still the same people who fought a Blight and survived.
Alistair is facing down a knot of shades when he hears Robyn cry out. He turns, sees her trapped in ice and struggling, the demon drawing closer. One of the shades takes advantage of his distraction and lunges closer, claws catching on the splintered edge of his shield. He returns his attention to his own battle, lunging forward and impaling it on his blade. As he does the other two come at him from either side. Spinning, he dispatches one with a swift slash, snarling as claws rake against his mailed back. Miraculously his armour still holds, protecting him from the worst of the damage until he turns to face the last one and cleave it almost in two.
Panting from exertion he looks up, seeking out Robyn once more. The despair demon has disappeared, its screeching silenced, dispatched despite having trapped her no doubt.
Just as the thought crosses his mind Alistair's eyes fall on the drip of red from a greater terror's claws. Almost unwillingly his gaze is dragged over to the slumped, bloodied form before it.
His heart stops. And leaps back to life a moment later, pounding harder than it ever has before. Roaring in fury he charges towards the creature, unleashing a bolt of pure light upon it. Using such templar skills drains his already limited energy reserves but if he does nothing else he will kill the beast that dared strike her down.
Casting aside his shield he grips the hilt of his sword in both hands, slamming it into the stunned creature with all his strength. The blade is ripped out of hands as the terror jerks back - dying or merely wounded, Alistair pays it no more mind. Darting past it he drops to his knees before Robyn's half-crumpled body, reaching up to clutch at her desperately.]
Robyn? Robyn, please-
[This was what they came for, why they were fighting in the first place. But it's too soon. He's not ready to see her go yet, no matter how quickly he follows, he'll never be ready.]
[ She almost doesn't hear him. Alistair's voice wobbles between her ears, like a wave lazily passing overhead. She recognizes her name, eventually, realizes that he had, in fact, appeared when she'd wanted to see him. He'd always been good at that, sensing when she was upset or angry without her saying it and just overturning whatever mess was going on in her head with a smile and a laugh. There are no jokes here, not anymore, not when her life is dripping out in steady scarlet and her vision is swimming.
Words are difficult not only to speak, but to think. The Warden mouths a few nothings, but most of her efforts go to raising a hand to her midsection and pressing flat against the wound. It isn't any use, she knows, not with openings in both back and front and nothing to staunch the bleeding. She isn't sure what's been damaged inside of her, but there's at least one organ that the claws pierced badly enough to produce all this blood, and it easily stains her battered armor, coats her boots and the eerie ground of the Fade at her feet. The ice fractures with the weight and she falls to one side with a heavy crash on the ground. The impact is painful, only serving to further batter her injuries, and she whines softly, pitifully, as the feeling shoots up through her.
It's time, she thinks dimly, though Alistair says not yet. There had been more blood than this at Highever, when her family was slaughtered and Duncan saved her life. There had been more at Ostagar, when the Wardens were massacred and Flemeth saved her life. There was more at the Battle of Denerim, when they faced hordes of darkspawn and an Archdemon and Morrigan and Alistair had saved her life. It's time, she's cheated death enough, and that she won't die of the taint, won't die a monster, is enough to keep the tide of anguish at bay. There isn't room for complex emotion like that, not when she's so close to death and it's all she can do to turn her head, hand still pressed ineffectively to her middle, soaked red with blood. She turns her head to look up at him, eyes much less bright, skin pale and tainted with the corruption. ]
I'll- [ The word escapes, just the one, at first, and she's relieved that she has the breath and strength of body and mind to produce it. Just a few more, then you can rest, that's a girl. ] ... Never leave-... you.
[ He's still there, isn't he? She feels his hands, or she thinks that she does. His armor still reflects the glow of the Fade, shines with the mess of the demons he'd killed in their last fight. The music has gone quiet, thank the Maker, giving her a backwards sort of peace as the last seconds stretch out into hours, or so it feels, with her lying on her side and him still alive, and she can't leave, she promised, and yet- and yet-
One more thing. Go on, then. ]
One- [ She coughs violently, blood thick and coppery in her mouth, and she chokes, feeling seized, briefly, with the idea that she's drowning in it. But, no, she has to finish, has to say one last thing, to do this for him, after all he's done for her. ] One good thing... about the Blight...
[ An exhale comes slow, the period at the end of her unfinished sentence. Her hand goes limp below her ribs and falls limp, draped over her side, and the ragged breaths cease with the last flutters of her heart. Dim eyes stare out at the world they were never meant to enter, the phantom of a smile still barely present with the last thing she'd wanted to say, the enormity of its memory, the enormity of it all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
HOOAH aka the sad fade thread
Far from it all, away from Adamant when Alistair Theirin fell into the Fade and never came back, Robyn Cousland, the former Hero of Ferelden, knew her time had come. Immediately, and with deep, abiding regrets, she wrote to the handful of people close to her, to those she trusted. Without knowing the events of Adamant, she wrote to Alistair, too, and Leliana, who she knew was working within the Inquisition. I hear the music, Robyn said, and before she could actually up and go to the Deep Roads, the spymaster had turned up at her doorstep. So to speak, anyway; the Warden had been living in caves near Orzammar at the time and hadn't been surprised at all to see her old friend appear outside of it. Wearily, gratefully, Robyn reunited with Leliana, but it was far from an easy-going, social visit. After all, one of them was unquestionably dying, and the other one had bad news of her own.
Left in the Fade. Robyn's heart thudded dull and useless in her chest as it fought to both protect her from the taint and rebelled against what she'd heard. No. The Inquisitor hadn't been able to save them all, had needed to make a difficult decision. Robyn knows that need as well as anyone, having made more than one impossible choice, herself, but this one filled her with a bitter anger that was more or less completely unknown. The Warden had steeled her expression and kept any tears from falling, but Leliana knew, perhaps better than anyone, what the loss of Alistair meant to her. What it meant that she hadn't been there to save him. What it meant that she couldn't say goodbye.
... Except. Except, the real reason that the redhead had made the journey was to offer an alternative. One that she couldn't exactly provide, but that she could point out. So, without much choice and, really, with more hope than she'd felt in... years, Robyn set out with Leliana back to Skyhold. She'd never been to the fortress that belonged to the Inquisition, and as far as anybody else knew, she never would. Under cover of night, the pair slipped back into the mountain base, immediately went to the gardens that, now, were empty.
Except for two people. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him, a boy of (almost exactly) ten, dark in his features and very close to Morrigan's, except... the ears. Her breath catches almost painfully as a rush of mingled surprise, pain, and some other, indeterminable feeling overwhelms her. There isn't enough time to talk about it, but she manages a smile, and the boy, Kieran, manages one, too. Leliana, Morrigan, and Robyn stand together for the first time in a decade, eyeing each other with a lot unspoken and with the knowledge that it will be the last time.
"You gave him to me, once," Morrigan said, with a softness to her tone that the Warden hadn't expected. "'Tis only fair that I give him back to you."
It wasn't long after that, after short goodbyes and one, final ritual (for once, not involving blood magic) that Robyn found herself in the Fade. Physically in a Fade, in a way she had never been before, wide-eyed and afraid. Now, standing where she'd entered with no way back to Thedas, she finds herself much more unsure than she'd been just a moment ago. What if he's already-... But, she can't think that way, can't believe for a second that she won't have the time she so desperately needs with the person she loves and trusts more than anything. They'd promised to return to each other after her search for the cure, after his work with the Inquisition, yet here she is with that promise in limbo.
No. She steels herself, feeling much older than ever, and wanders into the wasteland, into the in-between world.
The Warden searches for what feels like days, though she knows from dreams that time is a vast illusion in the Fade. She has her weapons, encounters a demon or unfriendly spirit every so often, but nothing quite as terrifying as her own fears. If she comes across his body, if she's too late, then the trip might have been for nothing... if she hadn't already been dying, anyway.
It's a relief beyond reliefs when she sees something glinting in the distance, something she recognizes beyond a shred of doubt as the armor of a Grey Warden. More than that, she recognizes the body, the posture, the short slick of hair, even at a distance. She would know that man anywhere, and she feels dizzy with the knowledge that she hadn't been too late. That she wouldn't be made a liar. ]
What might such a handsome Grey Warden like yourself be doing in a place like this?
[ He may well think she's a demon, or a spirit, but Robyn is willing to try and prove herself to him for as long as she's still herself. Her voice carries in a strange echo across the distance between them. There's an emotional waver to it and her eyes, too far from Alistair for him to see, are glistening with the enormity of what she feels right now, with everything they've been through, with the knowledge that it's all coming to an end. Together, though. Together again, for good this time.
Woo! (you're still terrible)
Or one with better scenery at the very least. The Fade was not a pretty place when wide awake and the company rather left a lot to be desired.
He's been wandering aimlessly since the rift was sealed, the backlash tossing him free of the Nightmare and leaving him marooned the Maker only knew where. Which is likely the only reason he's still alive. His injuries from the fight have stopped hurting which may or may not be a good sign, and he has yet to grow hungry or thirsty - whether that is because of where he is or simply that very little time has passed it's impossible to tell. It feels like he's been here for years already yet he's no more in need of a shave than when the Inquisition's forces marched on Adamant.
Why the old Magisters ever wanted to enter the Fade he'll never know.
On the plus side, he does get plenty of visitors, even if he's yet to make any new friends no matter how hard they try. In fact, it looks like one is trying again right now. Alistair turns at the familiar voice, not even a little surprised to hear it here and now.]
Is that the best line you can come up with? It takes more than a little flattery to sweep me off my feet, I'll have you know.
[Smiling easily he draws his sword, still miraculously by his side, his gaze sweeping over the familiar form critically.
However long he's been here, this isn't the first time he's been approached by someone he knows. It had been difficult the first time a demon took Robyn's form. He'd known in his heart it couldn't really be her but it had been so long and he'd wanted to pretend so badly. There wasn't even the fear of doing harm to others should he let a demon influence him to hold him back - he was trapped here and the only one who could get hurt was him. It would have been easy to play along but it would have been a betrayal to the real Robyn, wherever she was. So in the end he'd driven it off and been left alone once more, however briefly.
Others had tried the same trick of course. Demons were nothing if not persistent. Robyn had appeared to him countless times in countless ways - rescuing, dreaming, dying, lost, waiting. Each one as false as the last.
They'd tried other guises too - his father, met only once in the Fade as well. Wynne as a spirit now herself, offering guidance once more. The Inquisitor and their allies come to bring him home. He'd almost believed the latter, hoping against hope that they'd found a way to open another rift and navigate the seemingly endless twists of the Fade just for him. But the Inquisition has bigger concerns than a single Grey Warden who chose his fate.
And the Hero of Ferelden has been gone on her quest for a cure since long before he wound up here.
Truthfully he can't raise his blade against it, not while the demon still wears Robyn's face but it will slip eventually. They all do. Until then it is nice to have a conversation with something that talks back for once.]
What brings you out here then? Come to see the sights? I'd offer you my map but I lost it the last time the floor decided it wanted to become the roof.
[It's very rude when that happens. And painful. And utterly disorientating which he guesses is rather the point, as though he could get much more lost.]
nONSENSE
[ She knows (already knew) that he believes her to be a demon. It's what she would think, and... honestly, what she had expected to find, herself. But, the demons haven't tried to win her over, and she suspects it's because she wouldn't be suitable for possession, having a failing body filled past its limits with the poison of the taint. It's fortunate that she hasn't had to spend much of her precious, remaining time warding off false Alistairs, seeing them in various states of death and despair, because convincing the real one of her identity won't be easy. ]
I am no demon. I'm the spirit of a woman much younger and much braver.
[ She quietly notes the sword, and in a distant, empty moment, considers what would happen if she rushed him. If he might kill her, a "demon" with Robyn's face. She'll have to seek out death sooner or later, a fate she's accepted, because the alternative, to rot away into a ghoul, isn't a choice at all. ]
We can just talk, if you like. [ No, she can't have him kill her without realizing who she is; the purpose of her finding him was to reunite, after all. To say goodbye. And... that would be too selfish, too horrible.
Robyn sits cross-legged on the ground, setting her crossbow aside. ]
I came here for... a few reasons. [ Briefly, she examines her fingers, calloused and rough from years of fighting. I'm hardly the girl who was taken from Highever all those years ago. ] But the most important was to find someone who gave his life to save others and to redeem a forsaken order. To seek out the Warden who made a promise and was left to die without saying goodbye to her.
[ Robyn eyes him from a short distance away, expression and tone anything but condemning. She can't help it; she blames the Grey Wardens for their weak minds, for blindly following a corrupted leader. She blames the Inquisition for having to sacrifice other people not in the organization because there was no other plan. She blames herself, most of all, for leaving the world worse than when she'd found it with no cure and, most crucially, without Alistair to carry on. ]
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword....
[ She whispers, breath catching, suddenly afraid, and anguished, and-
Calm. Time, time is running out, and what she can do is to talk to him, to be with him. To apologize. To say a real goodbye. ]
... I remember when we first went into the Fade, [ Robyn begins quietly, eyes closed, recalling. ] When I found you, they showed you... visions of Goldanna and her children, and I felt so awful at taking you from that.
[ The Warden opens her eyes again, frowning, looking intensely world-wearied. ]
I'm sorry you never found the family you wanted, Alistair.
truth :|
That's just mean. And unnecessary.
[It's a good double, he'll give the demon that. One of the best he's seen. Most of the others have had something... off about them. They don't sound right somehow. They're just imitating emotions they've never felt and can't understand, going through the motions perfectly but there's no depth to it. Or perhaps he's fooling himself and it's just the fact that he knows that every time he sees her face or one of the other familiar faces that have appeared to him that it can't be anything but a denizen of the Fade. He's alone here and will be for as long as he has left.
And now this creature appears and has the nerve to know exactly what to say to hurt him. Because it sounds so much like his Robyn and he would have given anything for the chance to say goodbye, it's true.
Despite his better sense Alistair moves closer to where she sits, taking in all the little details, the work the demon has put into this disguise. The signs of corruption as her tainted blood gets the better or her, the weariness and sorrow in her eyes... His heart clenches painfully and he has to look away, turning his attention to the twisted, unnatural landscape around them.
It's a demon, not real. The real Robyn is still out there somewhere. She might have even found her cure by now. He knows it's possible, he spoke to Grand Enchanter Fiona himself, hoping she might be able to tell him something he could send on to his absent lover to aid her quest. There had been nothing but he knows it's possible to cure the taint. If anyone can manage it she can. She will. They'll never see each other again but if she can live a long, fulfilling life then he doesn't mind not being able to share it with her.
Or with the family he never had.
Shrugging he leans back against an outcropping that wasn't there a second ago, sword seemingly forgotten in his hand.]
I found what mattered. Or she found me. Not everyone gets that. To be happy.
[Looking down at the achingly familiar shape again he finds himself wondering about it. It doesn't seem to want anything from him. Maybe it's just being patient or maybe it really is willing to just talk. Whatever the reason, it's still not the same as seeing the real Robyn one last time.... but he can let himself have this for now.]
And we were happy. The Inquisitor asked me about that you know. If we'd been happy. At the time I thought, once all was said and done, we'd be together again. Forever. [He chuckles, shaking his head ruefully.] See how well that worked out. [Heaving a sigh he looks back at it.] I got more than I deserved, I just wish- Ah, what does it matter? You already know and it doesn't change anything.
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[ The last thing she wants to do is to hurt him, but she knows he'll have to realize the truth in his own time. He's smart, but stubborn, like her. Grown distrustful and world-wearied after so much time and so much loss. Robyn watches as he gets closer, unsure if it's a good sign, or an indication that he's giving up. Her chest twists painfully, heart going out to him with all the energy it has. ]
You deserved so much more. [ She says gently, though the mention of the Inquisitor sends a flare of anger coursing through her. ] You deserve a long and happy life away from all this. Free of demons and of the taint.
[ At least he wouldn't die because of it. It's a horrible thought, but she's the tiniest bit thankful that he, at least, won't be killed at the hands of the darkspawn or its poison. If she has her way, it'll be the same for her, though even as she thinks it, there's a streak of pain as it settles into her blood, infecting every corner of her body, gradually transforming her from human to monster. She swallows with difficult, feeling like a child for the tears that sting at her eyes, and in her mind she hears "afraid, afraid, afraid," as if there's something in the Fade that's finally found something worth taunting her about, lost case though she is. ]
We will be together. [ At the end, and beyond, she thinks. ] Somewhere... much better than all this. Somewhere worthier of you.
[ Whether that be at the Maker's side or otherwise, she's always believed that there is (has to be) more after their deaths. That she'll see her family again, and the others they'd lost along the way. ]
... Alistair, please. [ The Warden says suddenly, almost desperately, as another sudden jolt pulses through her. Can he see it in my skin, in my eyes? ] I-... I know you don't believe me, and I can hardly blame you. I know what you must have seen in here and how hard is can be to forget. To believe.
[ To believe that there could be one, last chance for them to be together, for so many other things. Wildly, she thinks that she ought to have made some kind of list of all the things she wanted to say, that she should have written him another letter that would actually reach him... but, she hadn't done either of those things. ]
The music is so loud, now. [ Robyn whispers, pleading. ] I don't know how much longer I can stay.
[ She can't ask him to kill her if he still thinks she's a demon, after all, and the idea of having to walk away without him knowing that she'd come to see him is... excruciating. ]
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[Not completely. Oh, he'd do anything for Robyn, to make her happy. But he's still perversely grateful for the murder of her family. If Howe had never turned on them then the two of them would have never met. And looking back he can't imagine getting to this point without her.
...Well. Getting to the point of standing against the entire order when they started talking about blood magic. The getting trapped in the Fade was definitely all him.]
So maybe this is entirely worthy of me.
[It is oddly comforting though, the demon's - spirit's? - words. A reminder that somewhere beyond this they'll see each other again. Free of the taint and duties and quests and everything that's kept them apart over the years. It's something to hold on to, even as he watches the apparition struggle against some illusory pain, mirroring the spreading darkness it pretends to feel.
Something else the demon says tugs at him in the wake of its impressively emotional plea. The music, the taint... It's the strangest thing. Has he felt the corruption in the previous 'Robyns' who appeared? It's there now, as strong and familiar as anything. None of the others he's seen were claiming to be feeling the true Calling so it had no reason to be this strong. But he can't recall any of them giving a sense of the taint that should have been in their blood. This one has copied it perfectly and the realisation claws at him with uncertainty.
He shifts back, hand flexing on the hilt of his sword as he stares at it suspiciously, silent in the face of its plea.
Finally, slowly, Alistair closes the remaining distance between them and drops to one knee in front of... whatever this is. His blade stays between them, resting lightly against his upraised knee as a barrier should it decide to attack. Carefully he reaches out to cup her chin in his free hand, studying a face he knows as well as his own. It's changed now, reminding him of the poor souls he's seen who'd succumbed to the taint. If this were real she wouldn't have long.
He remembers the music she speaks of too well. The false Calling at the least. Surely she can't be hearing it, can't be this far gone. Not the real Robyn. She's found a cure to this and is out there somewhere, cleaning up Clarel's mess or helping the Inquisition stop Corypheus or something. Anything.
She can't truly be here, almost lost to the corruption. It can't be.]
You're lying. [Even to himself it sounds like a plea.] You're just another demon.
[His hand tightens unconsciously on her jaw, his own drawing tight with pain and uncertainty.]
How could she have even gotten here? Why even come looking for me? Tell me that, if you expect me to believe you.
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[ Either king, thankless servant to his country, or Grey Warden, thankless servant to his country. Alistair's life has been trial after trial, and yet he smiles and laughs and brings the same to others. Her heart aches, looking at him surrounded by the twisted darkness of the Fade, left behind by people who didn't know him, who didn't love him. He saved them, she reminds herself patiently, but the words sit on her shoulders like weights rather than sinking in as truth.
No, he doesn't deserve this. Not at all. And she isn't so masochistic to think that she does, either; in fact, there are few people that she would say do deserve being abandoned in the Fade, still alive and left to wander and die alone. Still, it's difficult not to feel pinpricks of self-loathing as she thinks of the people she'd let down by failing to find a cure, of the work that could have been done if she'd survived to help rebuild. If she'd been able to take Alistair's place at Adamant so that he, at least, could live.
He approaches and she doesn't move, not wanting to startle him into action. Really, she's also feeling tired, weak in body and mind, and it's all she can do to not let herself fall into his arms and stay there until she isn't herself anymore.
Instead she keeps very still, moving only to gently cover his hand in one of her own at her jaw, the touch of a ghost. ]
Morrigan. [ Robyn says softly, knowing the animosity he and the apostate have always had (though, she isn't sure how much, if at all, they spoke during his work with the Inquisition, since she had also been there, in Skyhold). ] She was able to send me into the Fade, but she warned that it would be a one-way trip.
[ Of course. If it were that easy to traverse the Fade, physically, then the world would be a very different place. She manages a fleeting, pained smile as his grip on her tightens. ]
I think she wanted to thank me. [ The Warden whispers. ] For Kieran.
[ For indirectly giving her a son. What had it meant, the soul of an old god in that little boy? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had the time to scrutinize. He'd seemed so normal and now she would never know what it had meant that she'd convinced the man she loved (loves, always) to lie with another woman that night. To trust her enough to go into the arms of someone he hated to save them both.
Now that they're both dying only a decade later with not much time spent together in between, she wonders with a rattling emptiness if it had even been worth it. ]
I came here because I had to. I promised. [ Her voice shakes a little, wavering with the emotion that threatens to overtake her. ] I would never leave you alone. I wouldn't have stopped until I found a way, no matter what the cost.
[ Though, she hadn't even paid for this trip. The taint that was taking her life so much more quickly than it should is her own fault. ]
I would do anything for you, no matter how impossible.
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The explanation for her presence is painfully believable. If anyone could manage this feat it would be Morrigan. It seems she's only grown more knowledgeable - more dangerous maybe - since they first met all those years ago. And yet he remembers seeing her with the boy - their son, as much as it aches to admit that fact. She'd been good with him. A good mother, surprisingly enough, and being one had changed her. Morrigan herself had scoffed when he'd said as much but it was true. She cared for her son, anyone could see that and it was reassuring to know that Kieran was being raised by someone who loved him.]
You met him?
[He can't help but ask. It tugs at him, the thought of Robyn and Kieran meeting. Of course she knew about him, had been the one to talk Alistair himself into the ritual that had saved their lives. But knowing that he had a child out there and meeting him were two very different things. If Robyn had seen Kieran herself it couldn't have been easy for her - serving as another reminder of the things she'd given up when she joined the Wardens.
He'd wondered, after seeing Kieran the first time, what he would have looked like with Robyn as his mother. What it would have been like to make themselves a family, free of the Wardens and the taint and everything. It's too late for that now but he would have liked to be there when they met. For her sake.
When she mentions their promise to each other he shakes his head, trying to deny what he's hearing. Finally Alistair lets the sword drop and clatter to the ground between them, hands shifting to grip her shoulders tightly.]
Please. [The word is barely a whisper, laced with desperation.] Tell me this is all just some demon's ploy. I'll let you take whatever you want from me. Everything. Just tell me it's a lie.
[In his heart he knows it's true. The sense of the taint within her, the way she knows exactly what to say, her courage in the face of death. The promises they made. The sheer depth of feeling in every word. It's his Warden, his Robyn, really here in front of him. Trapped, just like him, while the corruption within her steals the life from her even faster than the Fade could.
Still, he pleads, wanting desperately to be wrong.]
Tell me she's fine. You can even tell me she's fallen in love with some... Orlesian dandy and they've run off together and never once think of me. I won't mind.
[Better that than they both die here, after everything they've been through. The Maker can't be that cruel. Not after everything they've already sacrificed for the greater good. She deserves more than to end like this.]
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And he'd thought he was selfish. She utters a tiny, dry sob, overwhelmed with all the things that the two of them together had been through, how it's all come down to this. Two Grey Wardens, heroes of the Fifth Blight, dying together, and alone, in another world. ]
He seemed good, Alistair. [ She says, hand still covering his. ] A normal boy.
[ Maybe not normal, exactly, but not darkspawn. Not a demon. Just a little boy with a strange story and Alistair's ears.
The sword falls and she starts, senses somehow ramped up, now, just before the end. He grabs to steady her and she lets it happen, feeling more and more as if the most perfect thing in the world would be to lean in to his touch and let herself slip away... except, that isn't an option at all, and so she steels herself, feeling crushed beneath the anguish that he gives off like waves of heat.
Should she have spared him this grief and lied? Acted the part of a demon, not been quite so... herself, and let him ignore or kill her? If he believed that the real Robyn was somewhere else, living a long and happy life, would he have been a little happier, here, even alone and dying? But, even as she tries to picture it, she knows that it would be going against everything they'd built their relationship on. Not kindness, but truth. She had told him all she knew about the dark ritual and he had gone through with it. Not kindness, but truth. She had left in search of the cure and left him because someone had to guide the Wardens when there was no one left. Not kindness, but truth.
And now- ]
An Orlesian? [ Suddenly, she laughs, very brief and breathless. ] Now you're just being insulting.
[ Maybe the Maker is cruel. All her life, she's believed in Him, but they're taught that He abandoned them for their sins. Still, she believes in Him, but she also believes in Alistair. Believes that there has to be something better for people like him, for all of their friends.
He's gripping her shoulders, and she moves to cup his face, as if they're finally seeing each other for the first time. ]
I would sooner enter the Fade to die than marry an Orlesian. [ Robyn says finally, smiling as much as her broken heart will allow. ]
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I've met some reasonable Orlesians.
[He laughs along with her because what else is there to do?
It's real. Not a demon's trick but the real Robyn Cousland, Hero of Ferelden, here with him. Trapped and tainted and dying, just the two of them alone in the Fade.]
I'm sorry. I thought-
[He shakes his head, eyes closing as he leans into her hands. She knows what he thought and why. He still wishes it were true, that this was a demon and he could picture her happy and safe somewhere. But it would be so much worse to let her die alone in the Deep Roads without him. He would have followed her without question if her Calling came before his. Instead here they are. Maybe it's not so different in the end.]
You didn't find it. The cure.
[It had seemed such an impossible task when they first spoke of it but he'd thought if anyone could do it she could. She's achieved so much that had seemed impossible at first, he'd hoped this would just be another impossibility added to her list of accomplishments. And instead here she is, the true Calling having come for her while he wasn't there.
It's real.
Robyn is here with him. Dying here with him.
Making a soft, choked sound Alistair pulls her closer and wraps his arms around her, face pressed against her neck.
He must have had a thousand conversations with her in his head while he was stuck here alone. There's so much he wants to say and now that she's here most of it seems so pointless. Everything but-] I'm sorry. Maker, I'm so sorry. I should have-
[He stops. Should have what? Much as he hates knowing she came to this point alone, what could he have done differently? Even if he'd known how little time she had left and what awaited him at Adamant, the Wardens had needed to be stopped. They could have destroyed all of Thedas if they weren't. But it feels so damned unfair. Wasn't stopping the Blight enough? Why did it have to be them standing against the order? Them giving up what time they had together for a world that scarcely seems to remember them? It's not fair and while that's nothing new, this injustice cuts deeper than most.
Pulling back eventually he attempts a smile, just as fragile and wavering as her own is.]
I'm glad I rank higher than marrying an Orlesian. You're too beautiful a sight to miss.
[Falling prey to the taint or not, she truly is. Beautiful as they day they first met.]
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Regret is in every inch of her face as she shakes her head, trying very hard to find the words to give voice to how she'd let them all down. ]
I couldn't. [ She laments, voice again wavering. ] I did everything I could think of, I looked... everywhere. I thought I had it, I tried more than once, and I think it... did the opposite, really. Made the taint more aggressive, rather than eliminating it.
[ Robyn attempts a smile as if to say "and here I am," but it comes off as crushed, vastly unhappy with her own efforts. With her results, or lack thereof. ]
... But, in the end, I accomplished nothing and saved no one. Even if I had found a cure, it would never have reached you. [ Another failing. She tightens her hands into fists as they slip from his face to atop his shoulders, shaking. ] It should have been me there, not you. They looked for me, but I kept on with the search, and you had to be the one to step forward. You were brought here and I wasted years.
[ With nothing to show for it except her failing body. At the word beautiful she laughs abruptly, almost dryly, and has to look away as a flush of shame reddens her pale cheeks. ]
You- Don't. [ Tears sting fresh at her eyes and she drops her hands, closing in around herself, overcome. ] I know what... what I am.
[ What I look like, too, not that it matters. It's just another reminder, though, of what's happened to her. Of what will still happen, and not too much farther into the future.
Finally, she pushes herself to meet his eyes again, to search his face. He looks so alive, still, healthy and whole, except that he's in the Fade. It hurts her more intensely than the taint ever could. ]
I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you. [ "Before." ] I wrote, before I heard about Adamant, but... they say that couriers aren't especially fond of delivering into the Fade.
[ Maker, if jokes could save them. If anything could. ]
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You tried. That counts for something.
[Even if it failed. Even if he wishes now she hadn't, if it meant she might have survived a few more years. Or maybe she wouldn't have, given it was her quest that had kept her away from the fight with the Wardens. She could have no more sat back and let them turn to blood magic than he could.]
You know I wouldn't have let you face Clarel and the rest of them alone if you had been there. We both would have wound up here, even if you had stayed.
[His voice catches as he speaks. Would the battle have gone any differently with her there? Would more Wardens have been willing to listen to the Hero of Ferelden and not fallen prey to the Venatori? There's no way to know now and nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. They're here now and all he can do is make the most of this moment.
Stroking her cheek gently Alistair refuses to look away from her, his gaze soft as he watches her.]
What you are is the woman I feel in love with. Nothing will ever change that. No taint or demon or even the Maker Himself.
[Her current appearance is just a reminder of how much she'd given up for the hope of a future. It hurts to see her like this but he could never turn his back on her for it. Not when, even at their worse, she still manages remind him of the many reasons he fell in love with her. Chuckling softly he hums in agreement. Leliana would have done everything in her power to track Robyn down and inform her of his fate but even she had limits.]
No, they're strangely reluctant. Even Leliana's ravens don't like coming here. It's rather selfish if you ask me.
[Cradling her face he leans in to kiss her softly, turning serious once more as he pulls back.]
I'm glad you came. I hated not being able to say goodbye.
[Even if he'd never wanted it to happen like this. Better this perhaps than a lonely death in the Deep Roads though. And they're both stuck here now and no amount of wishing will change that.]
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... But,it hadn't happened that way for Robyn. She hadn't been able to help any of their order, whether at Adamant or with a cure for the taint. Though she doesn't want to waste time voicing her regrets to him any longer, they fester in her heart, twisting with agonized thorns.
His declaration of love draws them back a little, though. She can remember as clearly as anything the early stages of their relationship, the easy banter of fellow Wardens, as friends, and then the hesitant admissions of feelings. What had been light and playful became deep and vulnerable and quiet nights of honest discussions near the campfire are as vivid in her memory as the Fade around them. ]
You've grown so much. [ Is what she says, adopting a ghostly smile, still with a hand cupping his jaw. ] We both have.
[ From essentially children to a man and woman devoted body and soul to their cause and to each other: the two reasons they'd ended up here in the first place. His kiss is like a breath of fresh air in the stale, unnatural wisps of the Fade, and she leans into it, eyes fluttering shut. Too quickly it's over and he withdraws, taking little pieces of her heart with him. ]
One of us has to keep our promises. [ Robyn chides, almost playful. Then, there's a sharp gasp as she jerks inward, curling into herself and whining softly. It zaps through her veins like an electric shock, but one that doesn't stop immediately. When it does, she's left shaking, hands gripping tight around herself, fingers digging into graying skin. ]
I don't know how long it takes. [ Her voice wavers and she looks up into his face, again stricken by how alive he looks, how normal and healthy. Maker, how could you bring him here and abandon him? Why him, after everything? ] ... Alistair, I can't-... become one of them. A ghoul, or-
[ A broodmother. She shudders, drawing further into herself, panic welling up like a dam about to burst. ]
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[He cuts himself off as she gasps, trembling and curling in on herself in pain. There's nothing he can do to ease it, nothing to do but offer what little comfort he can, rubbing her upper arms and holding her close in a pitifully inadequate attempt to soothe.
When it finally passes Alistair finds himself unable to speak, heart plummeting before she even voices her plea. When she does he has to look away, eyes closing as if he can block it all out somehow.
He's seen his share of ghouls, those left still suffering even after the Blight was stopped, and it's a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. And that's still nothing compared to the horror of the broodmothers. He can't let Robyn succumb to that. Just the thought of the light going out of her eyes, of her becoming some mindless creature.... It's too much to bear.]
You won't. I promise. I won't let that happen.
[Throat tight he turns back to her, reaching out to brush her cheek with trembling fingers. Abruptly he pulls his hand back with a muffled curse and yanks both gauntlets off, tossing them aside carelessly. Hands bared so he can feel her this one last time he cradles her face, resting their foreheads together and taking a moment to just breathe her in.
Some selfish part of him wants to beg her not to ask this of him. How can he be expected to end the life of the woman he loves? But the question answers itself - he loves her too much not to. He can't let her be lost to the taint and to take one's own life is a sin. His distress is nothing in the face of her own and everything she'll lose if the corruption claims her.
There should be something else he can say, something to make this easier for them both. He's never run short of words before, why won't any come now?
Finally, after far too long a silence he manages to find his voice, strained as it is.]
Robyn, I- [He stops, takes a deep, shuddering breath.] I'd do it all again, every bit, if it meant I still got to spend what time we had together. I love you. With everything I have and I always will. I want you to know that.
[It's little enough in the face of the inevitable but it's all he can offer.]
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Love had always been a fantasy-like concept that she imagined (hoped) she'd have for herself one day, but this isn't anything she could have dreamed up as a younger woman. It digs into her heart with painful, unyielding claws, squeezes uncomfortably now in their shared misery. And yet... she has no trouble at all remembering the early days, the flutter of nerves, the incredible lightheartedness of their relationship through a battle-torn country. It's why she's able to keep composed now, to avoid just absolutely falling to pieces at his touch. ]
I love you, too. [ The Warden replies softly. ] Nothing could, or will, change that. I can't begin to put into words all you've done for me, what it's all meant, and... what you mean to me. Nothing I could say would be enough.
[ It would be easier to die, now, before she has any chance to change her mind. But... she's never been one to take the easy way out. ]
I won't leave you alone here. [ Robyn says abruptly, firmly, looking into his eyes. ] I can still fight; this can still be our Deep Roads. If not, then... I have some time yet. I won't leave you for as long as I am myself.
[ No, she can't appear and immediately ask him to take her life. Really, she would risk turning into a monster to give him more time, would do anything for him whether he asked or no. ]
Even then, even-... even after. We won't ever be apart, not really.
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And yet he can't pretend it's not a relief when Robyn looks at him and promises to stay. The last thing he wants is to be left here alone once again, covered in the blood of the one person who's been his home, his family, his happiness throughout the years. Even with there being no lack of demons for him to throw his life away fighting - and he would have done exactly that had she asked of him what he feared - it would have been difficult not to give in to despair.]
Yes. Please. [It's desperate but he can't find it in him to feel guilty for that.] We can make sure there's a few less bad dreams here for everyone. That seems a fitting end for a pair of old Wardens.
[Summoning the ghost of a smile Alistair takes her hands, squeezing gently.]
I know. Forever.
[Wherever they go once it's over, they'll find each other. It's easier to believe than ever with Robyn here with him now. Humans haven't physically walked in the Fade since Corypheus was just a man and he only wound up here through an accident no one had seen coming. And yet she'd found a way to follow him. With help, true, but if something in the next world sought to keep them apart it seems like it couldn't possibly be up to the task.]
You know I'll find a way to follow you as soon as I can if you go before me.
[If they don't fall together. They've been apart too long to keep her waiting.]
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A fight, then. [ She breathes, and works on getting back to her feet. If they're going to go down battling demons, then it needs to begin soon. If she isn't going to give in to the awful transformation, then she has to act quickly.
Die quickly. Robyn swallows hard, with no intention of becoming a ghoul or throwing her life away. Instead, the Warden rises, pressing briefly on the other's shoulder to steady herself, offering a faint, fleeting smile. ]
Set our course. You know the Fade better than I do.
[ Having explored it so thoroughly with the Inquisition and after. Though she lets him lead, to pick a direction for their last battle, she slips her hand, still ungloved, in his, leaves the accessory behind. Her fingers twine between his and she squeezes, leaning over to press a kiss to the arm she's holding. ]
Leliana sends her love. [ Robyn says quietly, pained at the loss of her closest friend, along with everything else. At least the spymaster had gotten the opportunity to pass on a message, though she was brief, her true feelings always locked deep down, these days. ] She promised to speak with Fergus, too.
[ Her brother had to hear that she'd died, after all, but Robyn had wanted to give him the truth. Since it couldn't come from the Warden herself, and since a letter would hardly do it justice, Leliana had offered to visit and explain, despite her business with the Inquisition. ]
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[Maybe it's appropriate. They'd met during the Blight, and fell for each other over the course of those many battles against the darkspawn. And now they'll die in battle. As Grey Wardens always have.
Rising as well, Alistair snorts in amusement.] I don't know that anyone human can really know this place.
[Still he has enough of an inkling to guide them. If he knew where to find it he'd track down the Nightmare that caused so many of the order's problems so they could try to avenge the Warden's honour. But he'd have gone after it already if that were possible. All he can do is lead the way towards a spot he remembers demons crowding about - a place where the Veil is weak maybe. Whatever the reason behind it, there should be enough of them there to give two Wardens a fight for their lives.
As they walk, side-by-side, he tries to savour these last moments alive together. Smiling weakly down at Robyn he squeezes her hand in return and leans over to kiss the top of her head, trying to pretend the signs of corruption are just the dirt and weariness that come from a long journey.]
I had a chance to talk to her while I was with the Inquisition. [However briefly, given all that had been going on. It seems a wasted opportunity now. Much like the brief moments spent talking to Morrigan while Kieran was out of earshot.] She's doing well. [Guarded and more pragmatic than she used to be but who could blame her after everything that had happened? She's not the only one who had to grow up.]
...I'm sorry you couldn't say goodbye yourself.
[She should have had more time with all that was left of her family. Finding Fergus Cousland alive all those years ago had been a much deserved blessing but their duty with the Wardens had always come before family. And now it's too late.]
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[ Every so often, as they're walking along, she finds herself humming to music only she can hear. She has to stop herself abruptly, breathing deep to shake the pain and the panic, but unable to remove the song from within her blood. Instead, she focuses on him, on the warmth of his hand in hers, so vivid and alive. If there was a single thing she could think to do that would save him from the Fade, since he doesn't have the same, immediate certainly of death that she does... but, she knows it's impossible. If there were a way to save either of them, she has no doubt that either Leliana or Morrigan would have spoken up.
Robyn brings his hand to brush against her lips, pressing them, lingering there, wishing for all the world that things had been different. ]
Did you? [ She'd known that the spymaster had spoken with Alistair when they'd both been at Skyhold, but she hadn't been sure for how long they'd been in the same place. Her heart aches for how long it'd been since she'd really seen her closest friend, for how they'd been physically apart for far too long. ] ... I'm glad. I know she's changed, but it's to be expected. I only hoped she was happy.
[ Is she, though? After all, 'doing well' and surviving aren't quite the same as happiness. Again, overcome with sadness for their shared fates (though more so for his), she draws close so there's little space between their sides, just taking in every second of his presence. ]
I tried to think if there was a way, but above all else, I had to find you. That took long enough. I- [ She looks up at him, brow furrowed. ] ... I was so afraid I would get here to find you already gone. Or that I wouldn't be able to find you at all.
[ She didn't want to die alone, but much more than that, she wanted to be able to see him one last time. To apologize, to thank him, to say their farewells. ]
I'm so grateful that I did.
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[The humming almost stops his heart the first time he hears it. The sound can't come close to capturing the song he remembers from all that time spent hiding out alone, with nothing to drown out the relentless music in his head but it's still identifiable. His grip tightens on Robyn's hand a little more each time, though there's not a thing he can say to fix this. For the first time he wishes he could still hear the false Calling. It wouldn't change anything but maybe it would help her not to be going though this entirely alone.]
She is. I'm sure of it. [In truth he can't say if it's the truth. Leliana had seemed satisfied with the Inquisition and she believed in what they were doing. But happy? That's harder to judge. It doesn't matter. All their friends and family have to fend for themselves now. They can't do anything else for them. If it will comfort Robyn to hear that Leliana is happy that's what he'll tell her and hope that it's true.
As Robyn draws closer Alistair tugs his hand free gently and wraps it around her shoulders, holding her as tightly as he can. It's more awkward walking this way but he doesn't care. This is one of his last chances to hold her, he's not going to pass that up. Not knowing she gave up the chance to say goodbye to her brother for him.]
I'm glad you did too. I thought I'd- [Die facing the demon. He shakes his head silently. He didn't. He's here and they're together. Rather than worry over what could have happened he squeezes her shoulder and presses a kiss to her brow as she looks up at him.] I got your letter. I should have written you something. Just in case.
[But he'd thought he'd see her again for sure. Or maybe he simply hadn't wanted to admit that he might fall in battle against his fellow Wardens. Would it have made a difference if Leliana had had a letter to give Robyn? If he'd said goodbye in some small way without her searching him out? She would still have been dying and maybe would have gone into the Deep Roads alone instead, to die a lonely death.]
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[ How they manage to joke around everything else... isn't too much of a surprise. They've kept things light throughout every piece of their journey, together and apart. It's helped to keep treading water when things seemed to threaten to drown them. It's why she doesn't even notice her own humming; the banter lets her slip into memories, images of their party laughing and talking around a fire. Of Leliana, now, happy in her mountain base, as Alistair's said she is. Of Alistair himself, ten years younger, pantomiming a scene as he tells a story that has most of them in stitches.
He draws her in closer and she presses her head tight to his side, not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder. ]
I told the Inquisitor I wouldn't lose you to their cause. [ She says, voice shaking a little again, the fond memories breaking apart in the face of the Fade, distorted and deadly, the crushing weight of their shared endings soon upon them. ] Andraste preserve me, if I hadn't been looking for the cure, if I'd gone with Leliana and joined the Inquisition, I might have- you could have-
[ Who can say if she would have been able to save his life? She would have easily given her own for Thedas, just as she would have for Ferelden. She would have done all that in tenfold for him, if it meant any chance of Alistair being safe.
The Warden swallows a lump in her throat with difficulty. Each step seems more and more difficult, now, but it wouldn't be for much longer. Not far ahead is a cluster of demons, prowling aimlessly, likely drawn, as he'd suspected, to a weakness in the Veil. Robyn stops walking, staring at it, hesitating before they draw close enough to attract the beasts' attention. ]
Maybe we can find a way- If the Veil is torn, you could get through. [ She begins, trying not to sound as desperate as she feels, mind and soul now put entirely to the task of finding a way for him to live. Maker, please, grant me this one thing. ] There may still be a way.
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A lot of things might have happened. I might have been the one looking for the cure. [And wound up in the same state she is, or worse.] One of us could have been caught by the order before they could be stopped. You might have been at the Conclave when it was attacked. [It's impossible to say what might have been. If there was a way they could have avoided this. Even if they had, sooner or later they'd have both succumbed to the taint regardless.] We're together now. That's enough for me.
[He might wish their lives had taken a different path but at the very least in this moment they have each other. He'll be grateful for that if nothing else.
Alistair stops as well when the demons come into view, sizing them up automatically. Neither one of them is in top form at the moment and their odds of surviving aren't good. So it's fortunate that's what they're both here for, even if Robyn doesn't entirely agree.]
No. [Stepping in front of her Alistair cradles her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks. He stands there, memorising her features for the last time, a wistful smile wiping away the sorrow of a moment ago.] I'm not going anywhere Robyn. Not any more. [He leans down to kiss her softly, heedless of the visible corruption within her.] I love you.
[There's other reasons he could give - he's already presumed dead, no one out there needs him, his own Calling must be drawing close already - but none of them are the ones that matter. There's only one thing that truly means anything any more.]
I'm not leaving your side ever again. I swear it. I won't let you die alone.
[And if he's being selfish, so be it.]
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He touches her face and she raises her hands over them, savoring the last moment, praying for it to stretch on forever. But, it can't, and it doesn't, and they kiss and break apart and the Warden knows in her gut that it's time. ]
I love you, too. [ She replies, voice no longer shaking as a heavy curtain drapes over her heart. ] I will fight by your side and try to protect you until I fall. I would do it all again to be with you, to have lived so much of my life with you in it.
[ Robyn rises to her toes to press a lingering kiss to his forehead, and lowering down, she speaks against his ear: ] "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."
[ There's one more, breathless moment as she looks into his eyes, the weight of it all hanging there, and then... she moves. The crossbow is taken from her back as it has so many times before, falling easily into her hands now streaked with black poison. Robyn hones in on one of the many monsters, a terror demon, who sees her from a distance and tears a hole in the ground of the Fade, slipping into a sickly-green vortex and vanishing. She sees the shift at her feet and rolls out of the way just in time as it leaps up from within, shrieking angrily and whipping around. The demon raises its head, letting its gaping mouth fall, and releases a series of piercing cries that shoot through her head as if they were blades. She winces, but can't reach up to clap hands over her ears with the weapon in her head. Instead, she aims for its many eyes through the pain and fires; the bolt lodges itself there and the terror cries out in pain, stopping its shrill attack. The beast stalks toward her, but she's quicker than it can get to her, and the demon has a head full of bolts before it can touch the Warden and it collapses at her feet.
Much of the battle goes this way. The demons here aren't endless, and she's just thinking wildly, almost hilariously, that they'll have to find another spot as the numbers thin out. They're both seasoned fighters, after all, and though they don't have a holy mark to seal the rifts, they can handle demons well enough. In her sights is a despair demon, hooded and floating, and she's just reloaded her crossbow when it sends a stream of ice across the battlefield. Robyn cries out as it covers one side of her body, missing her center and head but layering a third of her in ice. Her left leg up to her shoulder are encased swiftly in a heavy ice and she struggles to free her other arm, vital in fighting within her style, as the despair demon bounces her way. Just as it's close enough to show its ugly face, screaming in an eerie, otherworldly way, the Warden drops her crossbow and throws a dagger with precision and force enough to land it in the center of its mask and the beast falls, then disappears.
She's just considering the potential to fire a bolt with one arm until the ice melts when a blinding pain momentarily eliminates her vision. It's a red haze, her mind swimming, and it takes more time than it should for her to look down and notices that something has struck her straight through the middle, torn through in an angry red. Automatically, she clutches at the wound and turns as much as she can; a greater terror is lurking nearby, deadly-sharp claws bright red with her blood, studying her to see if, perhaps, she'll still fight.
She won't. She can't. This is finally it.
Robyn coughs suddenly, a spatter of crimson, and doubles over forward. The ice hasn't quite melted, making it all the more painful as she stands half-collapsed with a gaping injury where the demon impaled her. Of course, this had never been a fight for them to win. Even if they had eliminated a number of the demons, there would always be one more, one more ready to fight than they were.
Dying doesn't seem to have a sweet embrace, she thinks dimly, only half-aware that she wants very much to look over to Alistair on last time. Dying is cold and vicious and cruel. ]
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And then Robyn is gone, throwing herself at the demons, crossbow in hands. Alistair charges after her, sword bared, the fractured remnants of his shield on his arm. The demons are quick to come for them when they make their presence known. Even as he sees the terror leap up from where Robyn had been standing a moment ago his attention is pulled away by a wash of heat from a rage demon. It comes at him swiftly, claws and flames doing their best to destroy what's left of his shield. He doesn't have time to keep watching her, just has to trust in her skills as he has for years.
They fight well together. They have plenty of practice and the demons fall before them in droves. There's blood trickling down his face and side from several claw-marks and his blade drips with ichor but the demons are thinning with no newcomers to replace them. It's almost enough to make him laugh, that even when seeking a final battle it seems they can still triumph. If they do succeed in slaying all the demons in the area they will simply end up searching for more and yet he can't deny a certain pride at the knowledge. Whatever they've lost they are still the same people who fought a Blight and survived.
Alistair is facing down a knot of shades when he hears Robyn cry out. He turns, sees her trapped in ice and struggling, the demon drawing closer. One of the shades takes advantage of his distraction and lunges closer, claws catching on the splintered edge of his shield. He returns his attention to his own battle, lunging forward and impaling it on his blade. As he does the other two come at him from either side. Spinning, he dispatches one with a swift slash, snarling as claws rake against his mailed back. Miraculously his armour still holds, protecting him from the worst of the damage until he turns to face the last one and cleave it almost in two.
Panting from exertion he looks up, seeking out Robyn once more. The despair demon has disappeared, its screeching silenced, dispatched despite having trapped her no doubt.
Just as the thought crosses his mind Alistair's eyes fall on the drip of red from a greater terror's claws. Almost unwillingly his gaze is dragged over to the slumped, bloodied form before it.
His heart stops. And leaps back to life a moment later, pounding harder than it ever has before. Roaring in fury he charges towards the creature, unleashing a bolt of pure light upon it. Using such templar skills drains his already limited energy reserves but if he does nothing else he will kill the beast that dared strike her down.
Casting aside his shield he grips the hilt of his sword in both hands, slamming it into the stunned creature with all his strength. The blade is ripped out of hands as the terror jerks back - dying or merely wounded, Alistair pays it no more mind. Darting past it he drops to his knees before Robyn's half-crumpled body, reaching up to clutch at her desperately.]
Robyn? Robyn, please-
[This was what they came for, why they were fighting in the first place. But it's too soon. He's not ready to see her go yet, no matter how quickly he follows, he'll never be ready.]
Don't leave me. Please. Not yet.
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Words are difficult not only to speak, but to think. The Warden mouths a few nothings, but most of her efforts go to raising a hand to her midsection and pressing flat against the wound. It isn't any use, she knows, not with openings in both back and front and nothing to staunch the bleeding. She isn't sure what's been damaged inside of her, but there's at least one organ that the claws pierced badly enough to produce all this blood, and it easily stains her battered armor, coats her boots and the eerie ground of the Fade at her feet. The ice fractures with the weight and she falls to one side with a heavy crash on the ground. The impact is painful, only serving to further batter her injuries, and she whines softly, pitifully, as the feeling shoots up through her.
It's time, she thinks dimly, though Alistair says not yet. There had been more blood than this at Highever, when her family was slaughtered and Duncan saved her life. There had been more at Ostagar, when the Wardens were massacred and Flemeth saved her life. There was more at the Battle of Denerim, when they faced hordes of darkspawn and an Archdemon and Morrigan and Alistair had saved her life. It's time, she's cheated death enough, and that she won't die of the taint, won't die a monster, is enough to keep the tide of anguish at bay. There isn't room for complex emotion like that, not when she's so close to death and it's all she can do to turn her head, hand still pressed ineffectively to her middle, soaked red with blood. She turns her head to look up at him, eyes much less bright, skin pale and tainted with the corruption. ]
I'll- [ The word escapes, just the one, at first, and she's relieved that she has the breath and strength of body and mind to produce it. Just a few more, then you can rest, that's a girl. ] ... Never leave-... you.
[ He's still there, isn't he? She feels his hands, or she thinks that she does. His armor still reflects the glow of the Fade, shines with the mess of the demons he'd killed in their last fight. The music has gone quiet, thank the Maker, giving her a backwards sort of peace as the last seconds stretch out into hours, or so it feels, with her lying on her side and him still alive, and she can't leave, she promised, and yet- and yet-
One more thing. Go on, then. ]
One- [ She coughs violently, blood thick and coppery in her mouth, and she chokes, feeling seized, briefly, with the idea that she's drowning in it. But, no, she has to finish, has to say one last thing, to do this for him, after all he's done for her. ] One good thing... about the Blight...
[ An exhale comes slow, the period at the end of her unfinished sentence. Her hand goes limp below her ribs and falls limp, draped over her side, and the ragged breaths cease with the last flutters of her heart. Dim eyes stare out at the world they were never meant to enter, the phantom of a smile still barely present with the last thing she'd wanted to say, the enormity of its memory, the enormity of it all.
In death, sacrifice. ]
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