No Armor Against Fate (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Infinite Moment

As the two swords slid into Arl Howe's body, one from the back and one from the front, time slowed. Each movement seemed to take forever, as Alistair withdrew Duncan's sword from Arl Howe's back and Thora withdrew Maric's from his stomach. As the Arl slowly—oh, so slowly—crumpled to his knees, their eyes met over his falling body.

Thora could hear each pounding beat of her heart in her ears. She could see resignation, sorrow, and pride mixed together in the depths of Alistair's eyes on hers. And she knew that it was over. There would be no more long nights of laughter; the arms that had always offered such warmth were closed to her now. The warrior would remain at her side, flinty and hard and dependable as the very Stone, but the lover was gone. And the darkness seemed a lot closer than it had a moment ago.

Each breath felt endless to Alistair. As his eyes held hers, he read the determination there, the sadness and the duty mingling, and he knew that there would be no more fighting the inevitable. The throne loomed before him, the curse of his father's blood finally coming to pass. He could not escape it—she wouldn't let him, even if his honor would have. He would never again be able to wrap himself in the spun silk of her hair, feeling her very essence opening up to him. The future loomed before him, long and cold and lonely. And to think he'd once looked on thirty years as short.

There would be words to say, of course. Decisions to be made, battles to be fought. But in the brief, infinite moment before sheathing their swords, their parting had come.