Sealed in Blood Part 1
The decision had been made; only Alistair, Oghren, and Wynne were to go with Feria into the remains of Denerim to, ultimately, fight the Archdemon and defeat the blight. Sten, Leliana, and Elon were to stay at the gates and prevent anymore darkspawn from entering the city. Zevran himself had been put in charge over the city gates by his beloved and, much to his dismay, was told that this was where they parted ways.
“I don’t want to put you in that sort of danger.”
"So now you are concerned with my health?” He always managed to make a joke about the way they’d met but this time it did not seem as satisfactory as the many times before.
“No matter what happens…I love you.”
“Cruel until the end.” He pulled her in close and kissed her softly. His heart beat furiously with anticipation and anxiety and he tried to focus on the moment, to savor the sensation of her chest so close to his, but she pulled away all too soon for his liking. She looked at him with those deep, blue eyes, serious as always- his perfect counterpart. They said nothing else to each other, nothing else was needed. She’d already made up her mind and held no fear, he could see written across her face.
The blonde elf now watched helplessly from within the mass of gathered soldiers, as the elven warden-his elven warden- marched valiantly into the city. A dreadful knot began twisting in his gut.
~
It was big, very big. In fact, he’d decided that big was an understatement. Monstrous, grotesque, colossal- now that was better. Alistair hadn’t expected the Archdemon to be quite as terrifying as it was, but he quickly threw those preconceptions away as he fell behind in the charge. Flames, claws, and teeth were all whipped in his direction, as well as Feria’s, while Oghren and numerous Redcliffe soldiers chipped away at the dragon’s legs. Wynne stood back, watching the fighters and firing bursts of healing magic periodically. The battlefield was chaotic and only a few times was Alistair even aware of his companions. Eventually, the Archdemon summoned what could have been the entire horde of darkspawn as it flew to an unreachable landing. Alistair was relieved that they had killed off the generals beforehand, seeing as now they were nearly overwhelmed. Feria gave the signal to call in the Dalish hunters, ordering them to fire at the dragon while the remaining Redcliffe soldiers as well as the warden’s party fought off the individual darkspawn.
“Take the southern side.” Feria commanded her three companions, motioning to the far side of the rooftop where more darkspawn began to gather. Alistair gave a silent nod and led Oghren, Wynne, and some of the men from Redcliffe towards the stragglers. As the soon-to-be King threw himself into battle once more, the thought crossed his mind momentarily that he should not have split up from Feria, but snarling darkspawn and their jagged weapons forced him to focus on the unfolding fight. For nearly an hour they’d been cutting down darkspawn, and once they had been eliminated, Wynne collapsed against the ground. The rooftop of Fort Drakon had become slick with darkspawn blood and the senior mage struggled to regain her stance upon it. Alistair ran to her side and held her up while she gathered her strength, meanwhile Oghren ran back to Feria’s position. The Archdemon now flew overhead and the Dalish soldiers that remained continued firing what arrows they had not spent. Wynne straightened in Alistair’s arms, breathing deeply.
“Are you alright?” he asked, keeping a hand on her back.
“I’m fine. Go.” she panted, her attention turning to the far end of the roof. The Archdemon had landed back within reach and was now thrashing about at the figures cutting at its limbs. The ex-templar could just barely make out Feria’s form as the rogue practically danced about, slicing and jabbing with her daggers, slaughtering darkspawn and spraying blood all over the ground. Alistair gave Wynne one last glance over before running towards the fight. Again. The dragon’s movements had begun to slow and adrenaline laced Alistair’s heart as the realization of the coming sacrifice set in.
“Then I shall make the final blow.”
It wouldn’t be long before the Archdemon would fall, and Maker be damned if he didn’t get there in time to end this. Feria had spoken confidently the night before and seemed ready and willing to give up everything to end the blight but he couldn’t allow that. A loud ‘twang’ cut through the air and Alistair recognized it only too late. The darkspawn arrow penetrated the armor on his leg, entering the side of his calf. The arrowhead sunk deep into his flesh, bringing him down on one knee. His face twisted in pain as he looked down at the wound then, raising his shield in front of him to deflect any more attacks, grabbed hold of the tail of the arrow. He bit his lower lip and snapped the wood in half. He let his forehead fall against his arm, wiping away some of the sweat on his face, but an abrupt scream shook Alistair loose from his reprieve and he frantically searched the rooftop for the source. Rising to his feet, he scanned the rooftop for anything out of the ordinary- as if fighting a demon-dragon was commonplace. Feria’s small, elven figure caught his attention as she dug her daggers into the Archdemon’s front legs, using the blades as anchors and pulling herself onto the beast’s back.
“No, no not Feria!” the blonde warden called out as he sprinted forward. His calf burned like Andraste’s flaming sword and the pain almost brought him to the floor again if not for Wynne trailing close behind him, projecting small wisps of healing magic around his leg. He pushed forward, bashing any darkspawn in his way with his shield, leaving them behind for Wynne to finish off.
No, no, no. This isn’t right.
“Feria, no!” he cried out, still too far from her for his cries to be heard. He damned the heavy armor now slowing him down as he sprinted towards the dragon, his fellow warden now swinging from its neck. She strained to hold her grip while the dragon whipped its neck to and fro while clawing at the soldiers below. Oghren swung his battle axe into the circle of darkspawn gathered around him and nearly severed Alistair in half, had he not raised his shield. Rolling aside, he slashed at the Archdemon’s front legs, gouging its tough skin and bashing into the scores. He swung fiercely at its front legs, eventually catching the beast off balance and forcing it to stumble forward. As it came down, Alistair called out to the elf now sinking her daggers into its spine, still using them as grips to climb towards the demon’s head.
“Feria!” She disregarded his call.
“Let me do this.” Still she clawed her way closer to the dragon’s head.
“Feria Tabris, stop!” A disemboweled genlock slumped to the ground. She looked at him briefly as the Archdemon began to lift its head, trying to regain its strength in its legs. She pulled herself forward on the beast and sat directly behind its skull. Alistair’s face was a mixture of frustration and desperation as he held her gaze, the battle continuing around him; her helmet was gone, revealing her black hair, completely undone and now hanging stoically at her shoulders, soaked in blood-whether hers or the darkspawn’s, Alistair couldn’t say, and her azure tinted eyes were as vivid as ever, despite the massacre around her. Above all though, she looked sad-this unsettled him. Her lips moved briefly but Alistair couldn’t make out what it was she said. The air hung still, as if the world turned twice as slow, as he looked her over, searching for a way to stop her, but he could find none. The fray resumed normal speed and without warning, she plunged her twin blades down in front of her and into the Archdemon’s head. Alistair reached his arm out, hand stretched towards her but he, and all around him, was sent rocketing backwards in a blinding upsurge.
“Forgive me.”
~
The last darkspawn finally fell at the city gates and the men raised their weapons in triumph. Leliana sang out a victory call and Sten sheathed his blade with a look of satisfaction. Elon rolled onto his back, kicking up the dirt around him and flinging it in the air. No one really cared- it could have been fresh nug droppings and still the soldiers would have rejoiced. They’d done their job and well, allowing not even one darkspawn to slip past their post. Zevran sheathed his blades silently and moved aside as a group of soldiers ran by, cheering each other and carrying friends upon their shoulders. The battle there was won, but no doubt the one before Feria still continued. Zevran rallied the men and led the cleanup, dumping genlock after hurlock into the fires scattered near the gate. Though the bodies were removed, the ground was still stained with darkspawn blood and it gave off a fowl smell. The survivors gathered in a far more pleasant part of the battlefield and sat, waiting. Waiting for a signal, waiting for the end, waiting for the wardens. Zevran sat a ways off from the group in silence, watching the gates for any sign of Alistair- he knew Feria would not be coming back.
He saw it in her eyes before they parted, a sadness he’d seen on countless other’s when they knew their fate was sealed. He did not know the details of her coming fatality, but he saw it in her eyes when she had spoken to him.
The ground beneath them shook violently, jostling the elf from his thoughts and silencing the soldiers. The rumbling only grew louder and stronger and the survivors feared the land would split in two when the sky seemed to shake as well. Denerim was flooded with a burst of light, rippling across the sky like a chain of lightning. The men looked at each other in awe as the light continued to radiate from the top of Fort Drakon, where Feria and Alistair were to take down the Archdemon. Zevran stood, eyes fixed upward, mouth slightly open. No one spoke, no one knew what to say, they simply watched. After many tense moments, the ground held still once more and the explosion of light from the sky receded back to the top of Fort Drakon. Zevran turned sharply to his right and bolted for the entrance to the city.