The World Doesn't Wait

Spikes ripped through the sickly purple scales, while oily dark fluid oozed from the tears in the skin beneath the overlapping chitinous plates. Two gigantic horns framed its monstrous head, destroying what little doubt he may have had that it was only a dragon. Sword-like teeth rose from its jaws in several rows and ground against each other whenever the beast opened or closed its colossal mouth.

Aedan had never been one to let fear grip him, but it would have been a lie if he said that he did not feel anything, when matched against the Archdemon's stare, eye to eye. The inhuman slits spoke of an alien intelligence, and it was with dread that Aedan realized he was utterly outclassed against the monster. It was so large that it blocked out the blood-red sky, or at least, that's what it seemed like to Aedan.

Then it roared.

The sound was deafening and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the ground and shield his ears from the sound, but he remained steadfast, his eyes never wavering. What seemed like purple smoke started to rise from its mouth and eyes, and a smell of rot spread like wildfire during summer. Aedan recognized what the demon was doing and with a great deal of trepidation, reached inside himself for the same type of power.

It was the power of the darkspawn, unknown to even the Grey Wardens of Weisshaupt Fortress. Only Aedan knew about it, and only he was able to use it. He likened it to something similar to magic, but he didn't have a clue whether that was true or not. It came to him when he needed it the most, like a slippery rope thrown to man at the bottom of a well. It was difficult to control and he suspected that came from its origin; it was corrupt, so using it was corrupting. Or something along those lines.

It didn't matter anymore, though, as it would all end that day and Aedan could control his power well enough to use it against its source. The Archdemon.

As the beast's roar came to an end, Aedan raised his sword and beckoned it to attack. He would rather it attacked first, but immediately gave up the notion when he reminded himself of the demon's incredible sharp mind. Most likely, the being in front of him was cleverer than Morrigan and more cunning than Zevran and Leliana, all three combined. Not to mention it was probably physically stronger than a High Dragon.

He had his sword though. The Green Blade it was called and how fitting it was that he had bought it off the hands of a young woman and her little brother in Redcliffe. They were the unfortunate heirs to their grandfather's sword who fortunately just so happened to have been a famous dragon slayer. Unfortunate for them as the attack on Redcliffe had killed their mother and left them as orphans, but fortunate for Aedan as this allowed him to purchase the sword from them. He could've gotten it for free, but he decided to pay for it. They were orphans, after all.

As for a shield Aedan wore an old Tevinter round shield made of the near impenetrable metal, silverite. He had taken it from the dead bony hands of a Pride demon, a powerful being of the Fade who excels at combat. From the almost intelligible writing on it, he had Wynne figure out that it was from an extinct house in Tevinter. Apparently, dead houses weren't so uncommon in Tevinter, and as such, shields from those houses were called Dead Coats of Arms.

As the dragon didn't take the bait, they reached an impasse. Aedan knew that the dragon was stalling. It was injured from Riordan's wound on its wing, and from the corner of his eyes he could see Alistair, Sten and Leliana standing their ground amidst a tide of darkspawn, buying him time to deal with the Archdemon. It was obvious that the demon didn't want the confrontation and was merely buying itself time in the hope that Aedan's allies would fail and perish.

That also meant it was scared; desperate, but surely not careless.

He didn't have any time to waste, though. So Aedan charged the mighty beast.

The walk to Lothering was a painful one. Not so much because it was a difficult trek. It was actually quite nice once they put the worst of the Korcari Wilds behind them and arrived at the Imperial Highway. Even the view was nice, although the weather was quite unforgiving; the sun barely giving any warmth at all, at the chilly wind biting through bones. The nights were even worse, as they barely had anything to sleep in besides the clothes on their backs.

Well, Morrigan did but then again she came prepared, backpack and all.

They had been walking for nearly a week and were, according to Morrigan, a day's walk away from the outskirts of Lothering. And it had been hell, because Alistair and Morrigan did not get along. In fact, Aedan was pretty sure the two hated each other. And it was not sexual tension. Aedan was made sure of that, when he spied Morrigan unsheathing a knife and just barely managed to grab her arm before she had it planted firmly in Alistair's back. She had glared at him and he had lost himself in her amber eyes momentarily, before giving her a stern look and released her arm. She had answered with a small mysterious smirk that left him wanting more, before she sheathed the knife. Alistair hadn't seen a thing.

He was attracted to the younger girl, that much was clear, almost unnaturally so. He guessed her age to around seventeen, maybe eighteen, but she had a lithe young look that made her age difficult to guess. Her eyes made her seem older. Every move she made was riddled with grace and her mind was as sharp as her tongue, or maybe it was the other way around. She often ridiculed Alistair, sometimes Aedan too, but her voice often took a more sensual tone when she spoke to him. Her insults, her every word, left him wanting more, and his body itched for her. While in camp, he could not stand still, and rarely did he eat.

If there was one good thing about the weather, it was that the cold at night and even the day carried out the same role as a cold shower. A very cold shower.

Alistair had been mostly quiet, even during Morrigan's taunts and ridicule. Aedan suspected that his fellow Warden and, as of late, friend was still mourning Duncan. Aedan had decided though, that he would give Alistair space, and that his friend would eventually come to him, although he suspected Alistair would be more inclined to hurry once Morrigan caught on to the fact that Alistair was mourning and upped the quality of her insults.

Aedan himself was quiet too and much like Alistair in mourning whenever his thoughts didn't drift to Morrigan's excellent backside, which was quite often as the young girl loved to flaunt herself. The loss of his parents had left a hole in his stomach and sometimes it hurt to breathe at night, when it was quiet besides the howling wind. The memory of finding his sister-in-law and nephew was repeated often enough in his dreams, and he found it difficult to not get sucked in by the horror they must have experienced given the states he found them in.

It was the evening before the last day's trek to Lothering and Aedan was silently staring into the fire. Alistair was looking for more firewood and Morrigan had disappeared. She did that often and without warning, but fortunately for the Wardens only when they made camp. The fire was dancing cheerfully to the howling wind and the few raindrops that splashed into its warmth sizzled quite pleasantly to his ears.

His Mabari war-hound, Jack, was lying faithfully by his side, no doubt enjoying his body heat, or rather what little that could be absorbed through the freezing weather. They had been enjoying a companionable silence, when Jack started growling, and Aedan heard the sound of soft footsteps coming out of the tree line. A grey lean wolf with what looked to be soft fur stepped out. Aedan was quick to push his hound to the ground before it could pounce on the newcomer, when his eyes met a familiar pair of amber ones.

"Morrigan." he muttered and found himself facing the pretty girl. The transformation had been silent, and evidently painless, although Aedan couldn't even begin to fathom how the stretching and pulling of the flesh and bones must feel. The thought made him want to twitch.

She was breathing raggedly and swaying slightly, and as he noticed the bloody wound on her naked side, he caught as she fell. "Darkspawn. They're coming this way." she said, looking at the shadowy trees. Aedan nodded, but made no move to leave her side. "Are you not going to help the fool? He is still out there, is he not?" she asked in raspy breaths, surprising Aedan with her cruelty to Alistair even when wounded. The girl was truly dedicated to her unique cause.

Aedan unconsciously let his finger trace the unblemished skin next to her wound. It was a long slim cut; painful and bloody, but not dangerous if treated. He didn't notice her shiver at his touch, though. "Alistair can take care of himself," Aedan finally said, "and I would never leave a wounded behind. I need to get some bandages. Jack, stay with her." He said to the dog, although he needn't to, as the dog was already standing guard next to her.

Aedan stood up, and just in time, as several darkspawn, hurlocks he recognized, entered the campsite. He drew his sword with both hands and thanked the Maker that his Family Sword was a bastard sword. He was good at fighting with many weapons in many styles, but he was cold and tired. But he was also starting to get angry. In the last two weeks, ever since he had left Highever, he had yet to find an outlet for his anger, his rage. These blasted monsters dared to hurt his group. Maybe it was irrational, but at that moment Aedan felt complete and utter hatred; cold and unyielding hatred.

He couldn't see or feel it himself, but Morrigan spent many nights afterwards thinking about the strange sensation of power she felt from the smoky purple light that seemed to emanate from Aedan during that moment, and where the all-too-sweet smell of rot came from.

His sword slashed through the first few hurlocks with ease, skewering them through the air like they weighed nothing at all. The third one made him block its blow before he swiped it to the ground with a powerful swing. The fourth and last one, however, waited patiently for the hurlocks to die on Aedan's sword. It wore an iron helmet with protruding horns, and heavy armor that seemed fused to its lean body. The two eyeholes in its helmet were like dark pits of tar. It had a gigantic sword and it was made quite clear from the monster's posture, that the blade's weight meant nothing to it. Aedan, however, was sure that he would feel the brunt of the sword's impact clearly.

What ensued was the hardest fight Aedan had ever fought in his life. The beast, even with a great weapon, had the initiative and Aedan was hard pressed to keep up with it. Often, he found himself doing a direct block because he simply wasn't fast enough to push the offending blade away. It all ended, however, when the helmed darkspawn drew a vicious looking dagger in its left hand and wielded the incredibly long blade with its right. Aedan didn't have time to react when the large sword landed in a swiped attack upon his side and through sheer power of kinetic energy spun him around, leaving his backside vulnerable. A second later, he felt the dagger enter his back, piercing his scale armor like butter. He wanted to scream, but couldn't as the pain was simply too great. Instead he fell to his knees and simply stared aimlessly out in the air, while he desperately tried to catch his breath from the painful shock.

For a brief moment he found clarity through the pain, and saw that the darkspawn had moved from behind him over to Morrigan, who looked up at the monster with wide eyes. She was either in shock or simply too terrified; either way she was obviously not going to save herself. Jack was growling and snarling at the huge figure, but Aedan knew that the Mabari didn't stand a chance. Mabaries were bred for charges or other attacks where their size could make up for their lack of armor. This wasn't the place to test neither Jack's luck nor the dog's skill.

The pain returned in even greater throes than before, but he fought through it. He reached behind, grabbed the handle of the knife and squeezed his eyes hard together. "Maker help me." he gasped, before he pulled at the blade. A moment of white hot pain passed before he opened his eyes to see a battered, but otherwise alright Alistair battling the beast a few feet away from Morrigan.

His back felt hot and numb as he stood up, except for a wet sensation that he felt everywhere. Shakily he moved over to where Alistair was dueling the darkspawn. Luckily his fellow Warden saw him coming and in a daring move jumped to the side. The darkspawn turned and its blow sent Alistair hard to the ground, probably with some cracked ribs. In this position, however, the monster had left its own backside completely unguarded. With his final strength Aedan jumped onto its back and secured his left arm around its neck. It flailed its arms against him but he quickly placed the dagger at its neck, where there was a small gap between its neck armor and helmet, and pushed. With a sickening sound of piercing flesh, the dagger went through and ended the life of the beast.

Aedan and the darkspawn fell to the ground on top of each other in a crumbled pile of bodies and armor. His strength was waning and he felt darkness taking him. He saw Morrigan sit beside him and the last thing he saw was her amber eyes; serious for once, but not any less mysterious.

The Archdemon battered him away like he was just a persistent fly. He flew several meters through the air and crashed in a heap of metal. He got up immediately, but the dragon's tail landed on his head like the crack of a whip and he was sent flying through the air once more. He landed, the impact hard enough to tear away the closed Executioner Helmet from his head, and from his prone position on the ground with his nose broken, Aedan helplessly watched his helmet skittle away from him. Not to mention his sword that had also somehow disappeared from his hand as the dragon rained blows upon him.

It had not all been in vain however, as the dragon now suffered a limping foot, and huge gash in its softer underbelly. It wasn't like Aedan was fairing much better, though. His entire left body was hurting from the amount of times he had been thrown to the ground, and he was pretty sure that some of his ribs were broken.

In a distance he could see his friends continue to fight. Fortunately, reinforcements had come; unfortunately, it was for both sides. However, it was a rather inspiring sight to watch men, women, elves and dwarves do battle with darkspawn united as one. That didn't mean anything if Aedan didn't kill the Archdemon, though.

While he had been trying to get up again, the large demon had slowly lumbered over to him. Aedan just barely managed to roll out of the way when its giant claw came crashing down on his former position. Drawing upon his corrupted strength, Aedan got up and drew his short sword to a level next to his neck and held his large round shield up in front of him. It was an old Tevinter style of combat used in their giant gladiatorial arenas. Even in Ferelden the practice of fighting to death for sport was considered barbaric, but those who survived usually had skill rivaling the best fighters in the world. It was a deadly, but risky stance as he would have to get very close to his enemies, and while he preferred not to use it, it was rather handy to fall back on. At least, Aedan had yet to meet any who were lucky enough to survive it.

Of course, against a gigantic ancient dragon-god, what good could you do with just a dagger?

"Alright, line up!" Aedan called to the group with a small grin. Leliana squealed and playfully pushed Alistair away as she ran towards Aedan. Like the snap of a whip she stood in front of him with a cute grin on her face. She gave a disgruntled Alistair a smug look when he stopped next to her, immediately followed by Zevran and Oghren who were discussing their own native ales, then Wynne who shook her head at the antics being displayed and last in line was Morrigan who was as mysterious as always. Aedan got out his money pouch and handed each of them a golden Sovereign. "Don't spend it all at once-"

"One Sovereign isn't enough, Aedan!" Leliana cut him off, her Orlesian accent curling around her words in a way that Aedan found both sensual and cringe worthy. She continued in a tirade about pretty dresses and how much they cost. Admittedly, Aedan had lost interest in the one-sided conversation soon after, but took notice again when he heard Oghren mutter his opinion about pretty dresses.

Hoping to stop any quarrels before they began, he loudly said: "Alright! Two Sovereigns for each of you!" Leliana was about to protest again, when he continued, "And you don't need any more dresses, Leliana. You don't even wear them."

"That's not the point, Aedan!" she argued, "A girl should always have fine things!"

"I'll give ya fine things if ya just-"

"Oghren, enough!" Aedan said exasperated and the dwarf shut up before Leliana caught on, "I have some errands to run, but I'll be around the market square if you need me. Sten has promised to guard the camp, so get him some cookies, will you?" satisfied at their nods, he finally added, "Have fun!" Aedan watched them go with a fond smile and shake of his head.

Oghren, Alistair and Zevran went together as a group, no doubt off to the pub. Aedan didn't have a clue how they were going to drink themselves silly for two whole Sovereigns each, but Maker knew that with Oghren in the lead, anything was possible.

Leliana and Wynne went together as well, talking animatedly about female things. They had shared with him the location they were going to visit, but it went a bit over his head. What in the Maker's name was 'shopping with lunch' anyway? The word 'brunch' had also been thrown into the conversation, but Aedan had just smiled, nodded politely and ignored their quiet giggling at his expense as he had turned around.

Aedan bade Sten farewell and had just left the camp with Jack trotting alongside of him, when he felt a small cool hand gently slip into his right one. Surprised, he looked down to see Morrigan slightly scowling at him. "You shall escort me to the Wonders of Thedas and there you will purchase me an item of my choosing." she ordered, leaving Aedan slightly openmouthed.

"Oh." he said, blinking a few times, "I see."

"Yes," she said in a haughty voice, "We shall deal with your errands first and be done with them. Later, you will peruse the market with me."

"Sounds like I've got a busy day, then." Aedan commented lightly.

"Indeed."

Purple fire sprayed upon him and was divided into two smaller columns as the unstable energy smashed into his shield. He could feel an actual impact from the violet stream of corrupted power that the Archdemon was spewing upon him with and it was a sobering discovery to know that he was outmatched in this skill as well. The smell of rot was everywhere and it took all of his wits to not throw up from the sickly sweet air.

Then the smoky flame disappeared and for a brief moment Aedan found respite. A moment passed and that too disappeared and suddenly Aedan found himself hewn into the air as a huge razor-sharp claw had swiped him across the stomach. Aedan landed on his front and groaned in agony. With a hand on his belly, he could feel the blood leaving his body. It was a deep cut; definitely a mortal blow.

But Aedan wouldn't let that stop him.

He felt the dragon loom over his body and just before its gigantic claw came down to crush him again, he turned to lie on his back, and thrust upwards with his sword. The dagger, though only made with steel, pierced the dragon's skin and embedded itself fully into its flesh.

Instead of being crushed to death, Aedan held onto his dagger, and was therefore hoisted into the air as the Archdemon thrashed in pain. As it did, Aedan lost his grip on the dagger and, for what felt like a whole minute, fell freely through the air, although it was more like a second. Somehow he managed get a hold of one of the dragon's claws and he swung himself on top of the paw. Before the beast knew what had happened, Aedan had gotten the embedded dagger out of its palm and had thrown himself towards it neckline. With both hands on the handle, Aedan stabbed deep into the Archdemon's neck. As it thrashed again because of the pain, Aedan felt the blade cut through the skin and scales, ripping the wound much larger, but inadvertently also causing Aedan to come closer to its mouth.

Ending up right next to its gigantic yellow eyes, Aedan predicted correctly what was going to happen before it did. He still felt shock however, when the beast's jaws closed around his right leg and he was thrown violently to the ground again. His arms took the brunt of the force when he landed, but it wasn't enough and for a moment Aedan saw only darkness.

"I will kill you." Aedan had never been so furious in his life. He had never, not even to Loghain, felt so much hate to one single person as he did at that moment. Rendon Howe, arl of Amaranthine and usurper of the tyrnship of Highever, stood before Aedan. The man had committed treachery, the worst crime of all, and Aedan could scarcely control himself.

A cold glint seemed to pass over the arl's eyes. "You can certainly try." he said in a drawl and brandished his one-handed axe and short-sword. No one from his party went forward with Aedan, as per his instructions, but they all itched to stand by his side, each for their own reasons. Aedan, on the other hand, brandished his Family Sword, a fitting weapon for the situation, but let the Cousland shield stay on his back. Rendon Howe just wasn't worth effort to use it. Nor did Aedan want to honor the man by showing caution. That it may have been considered arrogant didn't even register in his mind.

Howe struck first, moving like a blur, but Aedan remained still. At the very last moment, just before the axe would cleave his head in two, Aedan moved. He sidestepped the axe, while bringing up his sword to meet Howe's sword, catching the blade with his own and pushing it away in a move similar to what the large darkspawn hurlock had done to him that night in the Korcari Wilds. Howe was turned around as he lost his balance, and while the older man had his back turned Aedan pummeled him in the skull with his sword.

Howe dropped his weapons and fell to his knees, where his head looked around in a daze. Aedan threw his sword away, grabbed Howe by the neck and slammed him into the stone wall. Holding him up to the wall afterwards, Aedan got in close, right next to Howe's broken face. "You're lucky, you know that?" Aedan whispered to him in a deceptively quiet voice, "If there wasn't a Blight, I would have taken time to enjoy this!" Aedan smashed Howe's head into the wall again and let the man crumble to the floor in a broken heap.

While Aedan took his vengeance, his party consisting of Alistair, Sten and Morrigan were having mixed feelings about Howe's punishment. Sten stood to the right, following the Warden's movement with an appraising look on his face. Alistair could barely disguise his disgust, but at the same time knew that he could not judge his battle-brother for his actions.

Morrigan stood to the left of Alistair and was staring at Aedan with a look of extreme interest. Her eyes were wide as they sought out the Warden's for some unknown intent, although Alistair would probably have thought it was for malicious reasons had he seen her expression of awe. She was also the only one to notice the stench of rot and the purple cloud of steamy smoke that rose from the floor, concentrated the strongest at Aedan's feet.

Aedan himself had moved on to simply kicking Howe on the floor repeatedly. Raising his foot, he brought down his armored heel one upon Howe's face one final time. A fleshy sound was heard when the older man's head was kicked violently into the stone floor.

"Parshaara!" Sten said, "Warden, end this!" Aedan looked up and saw his comrade with a hand on his blade and let out a guttural snarl. "Kill him and be done with it." Sten finished in a softer note and Aedan was surprised to see a flicker of fear pass over that taller man. Alistair too looked fearful and Aedan realized that they were not used to see him lose his cool.

Aedan finally nodded grimly and drew a small knife. His eyes met Morrigan's and he was pleased to note that she understood. She never judged him, never shied away from him, never pitied him; she just… understood. From the small smile she gave him he knew that she approved of his actions.

Surprisingly, Howe was still coherent enough to scurry away from Aedan when he reached out to grab the man for a final time. Howe was unsuccessful though and found himself pushed into the wall again, this time back first. Without any ceremony Aedan stabbed the knife into Howe's stomach, right into the soft skin of his belly and up under the ribcage. Howe flailed helplessly against Aedan, but he stood resolute and soon the life-force ebbed out of the former arl of Amaranthine. Aedan let the body drop bonelessly and stepped away.

"Go." he said, his voice rougher than usual. Alistair was happy to leave the room and Sten followed him in a more sedated pace. Morrigan stayed behind.

Aedan was surprised when he felt a small cool hand on his arm and he looked up to see Morrigan look at him with an appraising look, her head slightly tilted. Her hand moved towards his chest and stayed there a long moment, while Aedan simply gazed upon her. It was a quiet moment between them, but he enjoyed the intimacy. They rarely spoke to each other, not for a lack of topics, but, Aedan surmised, no words had to be said. They were always in some agreement, although Aedan definitely disapproved of her cruelty. He preferred to stay silent and often let her speak for him, not on his behalf, but so he could agree with her later and she took the resulting blame willingly, while he got the praise. It was a thankless job, but it worked as no one truly questioned his orders. Nor did she want his thanks, but Aedan suspected it was just her way of showing she cared.

Her hand finally left his armored chest and her arms went around his torso and formed into a quick hug. He felt her lips touch his unshaven cheek briefly, before she was gone and he was alone in the room. It was amazing how much power that girl had over him. She could make him so angry, but then she was the only one to bring him down again. He grinned slightly at her delicious retreating backside.

She was a bitchy little apostate, but Maker damn it if he didn't love her for it.

The pain was tearing him apart. His vision was cloudy and there were black spots everywhere. The few sounds that seemed to reach him sounded distant, like they had traveled through water and he couldn't smell anything but the tangy metallic odor of blood through his broken nose.

The few ribs that hadn't already been broken certainly were now and from the spikes of pain that shot up from his right leg, Aedan knew it was crushed from the jaws of the Archdemon. Although it hadn't formed into a pool yet, he could feel that the blood seeping out from his gut was creating a fine coat between his prone body and the cold stone beneath him.

And still he could hear the blasted beast roaring behind him!

With shaking fingers Aedan got out his last health potion and uncorked the vial. He had used up all the others as he had fought his way through the streets of Denerim. The tacky taste did nothing to relieve him of his ailments, but the healing effects of the potion certainly did. He felt the wound on his stomach knit together a bit, but it wasn't even close to being healed; more like postponed for a while. Healing potions didn't really work on broken bones, so Aedan wasn't surprised to feel nearly no difference in his legs, except maybe less painful. For those kinds of wounds he would need healing-kits, preferably one of the bigger ones.

At any rate, he could think straight again and wasn't going to bleed out for the moment, so Aedan resigned himself to overcome the most immediate problem; namely how he was going to kill an Archdemon without standing up.

Aedan listened to her proposal silently, as he had promised. At first he had felt disgust, but in the end he understood and even approved. But no matter what, she was going to leave him.

"What say you, hmm?" she asked, "Conceive a child with me tonight or… die." she let the last word hang in the air. Her eyes were staring hard into his as he thought of something to say. He could be dead the day afterwards and then it wouldn't even matter that she would be gone… No, he couldn't let her leave.

"Aedan?" She rarely used his name, preferring to use Warden or sometimes Fool, instead, although the latter was more often directed at Alistair than at Aedan. No, if she was using his name then she was being serious, much more than usual.

"Why do you have to go?" he asked in a gruff voice that seemed even rougher than ever. It was the right question it seemed, for he had inadvertently called her out on her bluff. Her callous façade fell and for once, perhaps the rarest and most beautiful view he had ever seen, he saw Morrigan for who she truly was. Perfection in every flaw, cruelty masking for an honest and righteous fear of ever being left behind, a young girl who had turned into a woman too early and thus had suffered the inexperience of a youth in the shoes of a strong young woman.

She wanted to leave him because she loved him, perhaps even more than he loved her. She wanted to leave him because she couldn't love him. Because if she did, then the world she knew, and was raised to believe in, would stop making sense. And she was a firm believer in the power of logic.

As she verbally stumbled, Aedan caught her. "Morrigan." he said and her darting eyes fell on his, wide as saucers, like a little girl waiting for her punishment, "you leaving will not help anybody. I won't let you go."

"You must." she pleaded in a small voice and Aedan could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

"A bargain, then," he began tiredly, "If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me, I will let you go." He stepped in close to her face, his breath hot on her skin. She closed her eyes in delight as he breathed in her scent. "Tell me that you love me and I will lay with you tonight." he added in a whisper and stepped back, making her groan in discontent. She opened eyes again as he softly finished, "Tell me nothing and I will leave forever."

It was strange watching the girl he cared for so much seem so out of place. She had a sad a frown on her face and it nearly broke his heart to see her actually think about what to tell him, but he knew it was because he had taken her by surprise. She hadn't expected his counter-bargain and it left her confused. She was used to be on top of things, to have every advantage, but now, for once in the time he had known her, he had the high ground.

"I…" she hesitated.

"Give me a year, Morrigan." Aedan said, a desperate note to his voice, "A year as my wife and I will let you leave. One year to make you see my way. Please." She didn't say anything for a long time and for Aedan, this was quite easily the longest moment he had ever endured. Her eyes seemed to flicker like torrents of wildfire, like a force of nature that wasn't supposed to be tamed. She was a beast that would never let itself be ridden. But then she agreed to his offer.

"Yes." she finally said, "If you… if we survive tomorrow, I will be yours for a year."

"So, you love me then?" Aedan asked with a small grin.

"Yes, you fool, I love you." she said with a scowl, but surprised him by seeking his lips for a kiss with her own anyway. It did not take long for him to reprociate and their kiss deepened into something much more inmate than they had ever shared before. His hands moved on her skin while their bodies pushed against each other, trying to get as much contact with each other as possible.

The thin red cloth that she covered her torso in was soon gone and Aedan was delighted to feel her soft naked upper body press into his unarmored chest. Morrigan didn't wear any perfume or artificial scent like Leliana did, so he wasn't surprised by her natural odor; slightly sweaty, grime and something sweet that he couldn't identify. He loved it.

He was quickly divested of his own clothes as Morrigan wanted him just as much as he wanted her apparently and not before long he was on top of her on the bed. As he lay there, already between her legs, he took time to savour the moment, before he entered her for the first time. Their movements together generated a pleasurable heat that only fueled the familiar itching sensation Aedan felt everywhere on his body and which he now recognized as a powerful lust for her.

He continued to rut against her and as their lips met one last time they finished, both equally spent and content in the afterglow. Basking in the slightly tangy, but pleasant smell of sweat and sex, Aedan possessively clutched Morrigan to his body and they fell asleep together, their bodies melted together.

Morrigan was finally his.

It was with that memory in mind that made Aedan want to survive this last encounter with the Archdemon. It had finally stopped roaring and thrashing from the wound Aedan had made in its neck, but now it was simply staring at him. Aedan didn't need to speak its guttural language to know that it was dying and that it wanted to take him down with it for his part in its death.

It started coming towards him, struggling to hold its own weight up. It was barely alive, yet it was faring better than Aedan at the moment, even with his partially healed stomach-wound. He knew that he would only have one chance to end this. Fortunately, his dagger had landed next to him when he had been thrown about, so he clutched it tightly in his right hand and turned so he could face the slow-moving dragon.

There was a short silent moment between the two where their eyes met; Aedan's clear blue against its sickly yellow. In that moment Aedan saw the Old God's life flash in his mind; the former life of Urthemiel, the Tevinter god of beauty.

Aedan saw unknown eras and people that he didn't know. He saw technology that he couldn't comprehend. His senses were bombarded with smells, emotions and feelings that were completely alien to him, yet somehow always there; he just hadn't experienced them yet. Then there long spurts of silence and blackness, where an unending dream seemed to take fold. Then the darkspawn arrived and the dream became a nightmare. The noble god was twisted and turned. The powers of corruption were too powerful for it to ignore.

And then it was over and Aedan was left staring into the eyes of an ancient god for a sliver of an eternity. The eyes softened into something kinder and Aedan realized it was Urthemiel behind the mask of evil and corruption. Urthemiel pleaded with him silently, before it disappeared again, lost behind a face of rage.

Aedan had gotten the message though; Urthemiel was a prisoner in his own twisted body.

The moment ended just a second before the Archdemon's mouth were about to snap Aedan's head off. At the last moment Aedan brought up the dagger and embedded it in the monster's throat, passing through the softer and scale-less skin and up into the brain. The effect was immediate. Underneath its head, Aedan held onto his still embedded blade as purple light started exploding out of the dragon's mouth and eyes, then the skin and so on until Aedan couldn't see anything but light. The roar of wild energy was all encompassing and the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was someone screaming his name.

Wynne, who had been elected to lead the others and defend the main city-gate against darkspawn reinforcement, stood with Leliana, Oghren, Zevran and of course, Jack. Each of them were looking at the huge pillar of light in the far distance and hoped that their comrades, Aedan in particular, were alright, each for his or her own reasons.

For the people in the city the arrival of the gigantic pillar of light caused much celebration; immediately it seemed, as the darkspawn stragglers started fleeing the instant they saw the light. They had fought side by side no matter race, belief or gender and it was a great day for the races of Ferelden in more ways than one.

Alistair could scarcely believe that his friend had done it. His brother in everything than blood had done it! But that also meant…

It was with a heavy heart that Alistair promised himself nothing and simply hoped that Riordan had been wrong. Without Duncan or Aedan, Alistair had no reason to live besides fulfilling his duties as king.

For Sten this was the moment that he realized that Ferelden was both the strongest, yet the weakest nation in all of Thedas. Ferelden was an extremity; either very strong or very weak. And often its strength was based on its leaders and not itself.

Whatever it was at the moment though, Sten's answer to the Arishok wouldn't matter anymore.

For the first time in her life, Morrigan cared enough about another person that she honestly cared whether they died or lived. And judging from the incredibly large pillar of light, Aedan was moving towards the former rather than the latter. It was with dread that she finally realized that Aedan was only mortal.

The pillar continued to flare brighter and brighter until it flashed and disappeared. She moved quickly towards the sight of her lover underneath the huge corpse of a mutilated dragon. She was followed by Sten and Alistair, who both stopped before the great mound of scaly flesh with an expression of awe on their faces. The sheer number of wounds Aedan had dealt the large monster was incredible and it took several moments for the two to realize that Morrigan was rocking an unmoving Aedan's head in her lap.

Alistair finally discovered another person to Morrigan as he saw the first tears dribble down her face. He himself was not immune as he felt his own eyes becoming wet. Sten had closed his eyes and was softly murmuring words in his own language, no doubt a chant of some sort Alistair surmised.

With a great intake of air that broke the solemn silence between the three comrades Aedan sat up. His eyes were wide and staring at everything and nothing at the same time, while his breathing continued to be hard and forced. It did not take long for him to realize the pain he was in and he immediately fell down again in pure agony. It was then the others noticed that not all of the blood around them was the murky darkspawn blood of the Archdemon's corpse.

"Sten, go get a healer!" Alistair immediately ordered and sat down to Morrigan, both of them starting to use their own healing potions on Aedan. Sten left without a word as the two normally great enemies worked in union to save the one person who meant the most to them. Morrigan continuously fed Aedan potions in small sips so he wouldn't choke, while Alistair was busy removing Aedan's armor, working the kinks and straps as delicately as possible on the limbs that were broken. As the armor came off, Alistair smeared the healing liquid on the skin and open wounds and together with Morrigan's efforts they were effectively healing Aedan from the inside and outside.

The broken bones would have to be set before they could be healed, but even the crushed leg wouldn't be that much of a problem for a skilled healer. If Aedan survived of course.

"Morrigan?" Aedan said weakly through ragged breaths of air. Morrigan gave Alistair, to his surprise, a pleading look. The other warden frowned, but gave them space to talk.

"I am here, Aedan." Morrigan said, feeling ready to burst into tears again.

"Will you-" he started, coughing, but continued, "will you keep your promise?"

"Yes." she said in a simple tone. Aedan smiled weakly and grabbed her hand. She looked uncomfortable at the intimacy when Alistair returned with a questioning eyebrow, but she didn't dare let Aedan's hand go. Luckily the awkwardness was short-lived as Sten arrived with the healers who were quicker to get over their awe of seeing the Archdemon's corpse up close than Alistair and Sten were.

Morrigan reluctantly let go of Aedan's hand, but did so in the knowledge that he would survive and that she would keep her promise.

Thanks for reading the story. I really hope you enjoyed it. I might do some changes later on, but for now it's finished.

- Matian