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.
[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.
[Robyn falls to the ground, dragging a pained whine from her and choked noise from him. The world comes to him in fragments, disjointed sensations that don't fit together in any way that makes sense. He can hear her pained breaths. He can smell blood. He can feel the way his trousers are clinging to his skin, damp and tacky. He's kneeling in her blood.
It's a distant realisation, only important as proof of how much she's bleeding. Too much. Too much blood and no Flemeth to pluck them from the jaws of death this time. No Wynne to sweep in and make everything fine again. Just the two of them and the barren Fade around them. He's shaking as he reaches out to touch her cheek, her skin pale and cold where once she'd been so warm. It's not right. Not right that she should look so broken while he's still physically whole.
Alistair leans closer as her mouth moves, not willing to miss a word she might say, breath catching when she forces them out. Never. They swore, never. Together forever. Robyn's face blurs before his eyes, tears welling up even as he tries to smile for her. He's not sure she can even see but he has to try, she's trying so hard for him, finding words no matter how difficult and giving them voice when there's so much blood-
A desperate whine escapes him as she coughs, more blood splattering the hard ground beneath them. It doesn't stop her from finding her voice again, saying what's on her mind, what she somehow knows he needs to hear. Always knowing what he needed even when he barely knew himself and now-
It takes him far too long to understand what she's saying, reviving a memory of so long ago, the day that changed his life forever. By the time the words make any kind of sense at all Robyn has already gone limp and still before him. Just like that he's lost her. And yet somehow she's smiling as though they're still the children they were when they first met.
A laugh that sounds more like a sob rips itself free from his throat and he curls over Robyn's body, tears running freely down his face to drip onto her face. Never. She said-
There's the rustle of movement behind him as the effects of that last smite wear off and the remaining demons begin to close in. The scrape of a claw over the rocky terrain, a low, inhuman growl getting closer but he pays it no heed. It doesn't matter. Not any more. Perversely he's even grateful to them. If they were truly cruel they'd leave him alive, trapped and wandering alone once more without even the dream of Robyn living happily left to keep him company. Instead the sounds draw closer, only of distant interest as he cradles the limp, bloodied form that used to be his heart.
When the end comes it's mercifully swift, leaving behind nothing of the two survivors of the Fifth Blight but a lingering echo that haunts the dreams of any who stray too close.]
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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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It's a distant realisation, only important as proof of how much she's bleeding. Too much. Too much blood and no Flemeth to pluck them from the jaws of death this time. No Wynne to sweep in and make everything fine again. Just the two of them and the barren Fade around them. He's shaking as he reaches out to touch her cheek, her skin pale and cold where once she'd been so warm. It's not right. Not right that she should look so broken while he's still physically whole.
Alistair leans closer as her mouth moves, not willing to miss a word she might say, breath catching when she forces them out. Never. They swore, never. Together forever. Robyn's face blurs before his eyes, tears welling up even as he tries to smile for her. He's not sure she can even see but he has to try, she's trying so hard for him, finding words no matter how difficult and giving them voice when there's so much blood-
A desperate whine escapes him as she coughs, more blood splattering the hard ground beneath them. It doesn't stop her from finding her voice again, saying what's on her mind, what she somehow knows he needs to hear. Always knowing what he needed even when he barely knew himself and now-
It takes him far too long to understand what she's saying, reviving a memory of so long ago, the day that changed his life forever. By the time the words make any kind of sense at all Robyn has already gone limp and still before him. Just like that he's lost her. And yet somehow she's smiling as though they're still the children they were when they first met.
A laugh that sounds more like a sob rips itself free from his throat and he curls over Robyn's body, tears running freely down his face to drip onto her face. Never. She said-
There's the rustle of movement behind him as the effects of that last smite wear off and the remaining demons begin to close in. The scrape of a claw over the rocky terrain, a low, inhuman growl getting closer but he pays it no heed. It doesn't matter. Not any more. Perversely he's even grateful to them. If they were truly cruel they'd leave him alive, trapped and wandering alone once more without even the dream of Robyn living happily left to keep him company. Instead the sounds draw closer, only of distant interest as he cradles the limp, bloodied form that used to be his heart.
When the end comes it's mercifully swift, leaving behind nothing of the two survivors of the Fifth Blight but a lingering echo that haunts the dreams of any who stray too close.]