The Last Warden

Chapter Thirty-Four

It slithered beneath his skin, the whisper echoing behind his eyes. Sound but not sound, a call without need of voice. Alistair gasped, glancing up just in time to see the dragon swoop low over the walls. He ducked instinctively but already it was moving away, seeming to pay them little mind. Seeing Riordan watching him, he flushed.

The old Warden smiled. "We have surprised it, I think. Feel how it calls to them, rallies them. It knows why we are here."

"It knows?"

"Oh yes." His eyes turned skyward, following its progress across the city.

They had taken the gate easily enough, the men forming ordered lines as they filed through the narrow gaps in the outer wall. It had almost seemed easy. Alistair had barely had a chance to fight; everywhere he looked the darkspawn were being overwhelmed. And yet the feeling was unsettling.

"Do not worry." Riordan was at his shoulder. "You will get your chance."

"I should feel silly complaining about the help, shouldn't I? But I guess I just got used to doing things—"

"—Alone?"

He nodded, noticing as the other man's gaze flickered away.

"Ya gonna use that blade, Warden, or ya just gonna stand there gawking?" Oghren darted past with a booming laugh, hurling himself at a pair of genlocks. But no sooner had he driven his axe into the belly of the first, three more soldiers appeared, taking down the other in a flurry of thrusting blades. The dwarf let out a grunt of frustration.

Leliana stood nearby, nocking arrow after arrow in rapid succession, picking her targets from a distance. Wynne seemed to be concentrating on healing, moving between the bands of men in a shimmering haze. It was easy, too easy.

"They have already breeched the city. There will be more inside." Sten stopped beside them, sheathing his blade. It was slick and wet, his armor already darkly stained.

"Why does he get to fight?" Alistair turned to the big man. "Why do you get to fight?"

He snorted.

The others were gathering round now, the soldiers letting out a whooping cheer. Riordan, though, shook his head. "This was merely what was left to hold the walls. The archdemon has generals within the city, countless more darkspawn."

"Hold the walls..." Alistair trailed off, looking to his companions. "We-we should do the same."

Wynne folded her arms with a knowing smirk. "So after all your talk, all your balking... you are suggesting that we split up?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah I guess I am."

"I will go ahead of you into the city." Bending his arm behind his back, Riordan paced before them. "We will need to reach high ground, draw the archdemon to us. The top of Fort Drakon should do."

"Wait. Draw it to us?"

Sten leaned close to Alistair's shoulder. "How else do you intend to fight it?"

"Shut up." Turning to Riordan, he shook his head. "But how exactly... I mean it can... you know..."

"Fly? A significant advantage. Leave that to me." He took a step forward, breath catching as his leg dragged beneath him. Rubbing his hand against his thigh, he sighed. "But should I fail... I will need archers. Your best."

Some of the Dalish stood nearby. At a gesture from Alistair they came trotting over.

Riordan nodded. "Thank you."

"I will go with him as well."

Alistair stiffened, turning slow to meet Leliana's eyes. It was the first he had heard her speak all day, but there was no room for argument in that gaze. "You... can't."

Shouldering her bow, she arched a brow. "You said that we must split up, no? Each of us to where we are needed?"

"Yes, but not—"

"Unless you doubt my skill? He will need the best. But perhaps you think that I am not—"

"I-I didn't mean—"

The first hint of a smile tugged at her scars. She was toying with him. "Maker's breath..."

Stepping close, she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Do not worry."

"Worry. Right. Just a little archdemon."

Her smile faltered as she drew him aside. "It is... strange, no? To know that our fate will be decided in a matter of hours."

"Funny. I kind of get this feeling that it was decided a long time ago."

Tilting her head, she studied him. "I wonder if all great heroes feel this way, if this is what it is like to write your own story."

"Riiight... me. A hero." Alistair snorted.

"You have already proven yourself. No one here doubts that."

"But-but it's not a story, at least not the kind you want it to be."

"Oh, I do not know about that." Her gaze strayed over his shoulder, to Riordan and the elves already making their way to the inner gate. "But we will speak later."

She didn't really believe that; he could see it in her eyes. He should tell her now... say something... apologize...

Stretching up on her toes, Leliana pressed her lips to his. He was vaguely aware of the others, of some unheard joke passing between Oghren and Sten, but he did not care. It was a long moment before he pulled away, saw her smiling up at him.

"It was you!" Alistair felt himself sag with relief.

She flushed, turning her face away. "Who did you think it was?"

"I—"

"When I saw you with... I thought that was the kind of woman you wanted. It is why I..."

Crushing her against his chest, Alistair lay his cheek against her forehead. Of course it had been her in the woods; it had always been her.

Her smile remained, strong despite the sadness of her eyes. Leaning close, her sigh shuddered cross his lips, lingering in one final, fleeting kiss. "Go. Forge your legend."

Dimly was he aware of her moving amongst the others, exchanging embraces and farewells. It was only when she reached the inner gate that he raised his head, saw her pause for a parting wave.

"Nicely done, Warden!" Oghren clapped him on the back. Even Sten seemed to be smirking.

"Yeah, well..." Staring after her, Alistair shook himself. "Things to kill, remember?"

As they returned to the others he let his eyes roam over them. There should be more; there could have been more. But Zevran had... and then Morrigan... now Leliana... Alistair pushed the thought away. It wasn't the same; she could handle herself. It was he who was not coming back.

He sighed. "Sten?"

"Yes." It wasn't a question; he understood.

"What, no argument? No grumbling about being left behind?"

"We must hold the gate."

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to watch my back. Plus, you've got the command experience and you're – you know – really scary."

The Qunari inclined his head. "There is also that. But do not doubt that it is you who has led us this far, Warden. I am happy to be surprised."

"You? Happy? Nah."

He chuckled.

"Don't suppose I can get that hug now?"

"No."

Alistair found himself smiling. Even at the end, he couldn't help it. "Oghren?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

"But... you're sure?"

"To late for that, eh?" He puffed out his chest, grinning as Sten sighed. "I'm a Warden, ain't I?"

"I thought you didn't do it to impress anybody."

"Nah, that's just extra. Did it to kill darkspawn."

"Right." Alistair turned next to Wynne. "Are you up for it?"

She arched a brow. "What are you implying?"

"Nothing! Do you have your things together? Potions? Gear?"

Moving to stand beside him, she let her staff rap hard against his boot. "You are not making any implications about my age, then?"

"Me? I would never!"

She laughed.

"Shale?"

"No."

Alistair blinked. "What do you mean 'no?'"

"Has It repaired the control rod?"

"I-I left it behind. I didn't think I'd—"

"Good." The golem nodded. "Then It should not be surprised."

"So that's it? Just 'no?'"

"I suppose this is free will. I quite like the sound of it, actually. No. No." She moved to stand behind Sten as Wynne lay a hand on Alistair's arm. "But do have fun storming the castle."

"But I need a four—"

It came trotting from amidst the wreckage, startling the soldiers as it passed. Stopping before Alistair, the mabari deposited a large and horned helmet at his feet.

"One of their vanguard." Sten crouched, turning the helm over so that it seemed to be staring up at them. Looking to the dog, he bowed his head. "You are a true warrior and worthy of respect."

Squatting down beside them, Alistair turned the thing away. "Oh! Ew! It's head's still in there!"

The mabari gave a happy bark.

"Right." Alistair stood. "Then... I guess this is it."

Wynne smiled up at him. "So it would seem. But whatever happens, know that I am proud to stand beside you, proud to call you friend."

"Friend, huh? So you haven't just stuck around for my rugged good looks?"

"Be careful who you flirt with, young man. You would not know what to do with me if you had me."

"Somehow I really, really believe that."

"C'mon, Warden." Elbowing Alistair in the ribs, Oghren drew his axe. "Let's show 'em our hearts... and then show 'em theirs."