A Real Tragic Love

Title: A Real Tragic Love
Author: DinkyMew
Game: Dragon Age Origins
Disclaimer: Bioware own all content and characters related to the DragonAge franchise. This fanfiction depicts original ideas and moments that are not necessarily afilliated with Bioware.
Characters Featured: Alistair (M); Areya Cousland (F); Morrigan (F)

Alistair had long since forgone watching the campfire as the flames swirled and danced and licked the night sky. He had given up on truly thinking; thinking hurt too much. Instead he sat, hunkered down, legs splayed, his arm resting lightly on his knee and thought of nothing.

Nothing except breathing.

Even the dull ache in his hand had ceased entering his thoughts; a casualty of his attempted rescue. A rescue that had failed.

He could still see the fire in his mind’s eye; the pantry ablaze, the servants inside wailing and screaming as they tried to save what they could from the stores. They had all escaped with their lives, but not her – the only casualty of the fire lay buried under the smoking rubble, the blisters that soured his skin a testament of his heroics.

But sometimes a hero just wasn’t enough.

He could still remember the first day he had saw her, in the middle of the busy Denerim marketplace he had turned and laid eyes on her, so rare and precious he had felt his heart stop still in his chest. Her complexion a creamy perfection, a flawless beauty, one he knew he would never behold again.

He swallowed, his chest tightening as the first prick of tears made his eyes water. He rubbed at his chest idly, forcing them at bay.

He could remember their first night together; alone in the inn, she had been so deliciously surprising it was hard to forget. Hard to just put aside like the others expected him to do.

“She’s a beauty!” He had proclaimed once, proud and overwhelmed that he could call her his.

Crushing his eyes closed Alistair felt a single tear escape, cascading down his cheek as he brought his grief to the fore. Finally allowing himself to see her burned and battered corpse on the pantry floor. No longer would he feel her loving embrace; no longer would he taste her beautiful flavour.

“Alistair?” Morrigan’s voice cut through his thoughts and brokenly he raised his golden eyes to hers. “Are you crying?” She asked, her eyebrows arching in horror.

He didn’t have the strength to answer, instead he looked back to the fire, consumed and unmade by the chains of grief that held him.

“Alistair?” Areya Cousland approached, her hands on her hips as she looked down on him “Is this about the pantry?” She asked.

Slowly he nodded.

“Oh Alistair!” Morrigan cried, throwing  her arms up in the air in exasperation. “Not that bloody wheel of cheese again!”