Chapter Text
Prompt 1: The aftermath of the Archdemon fight.
An explosion ripped through the air. And then nothingness, as if the air itself had become a vacuum, absorbing all sound that dared to entered the radius of the explosion's epicenter. The archdemon collapsed on the floor, carrying Lena with it. All Alistair could do was watch, hands reaching for a sword that wasn't there.
The scene itself lasted hardly a moment, but if Alistair had been asked how long it really lasted no amount time left in the universe would have been a large enough guess. As soon as the dust had cleared he was running to the body, muscles aching as he forced them to move. Soon enough he reached the dragon's body, searching for where Lena had landed.
She HAD landed nearby, right? She had to have.
She had, thankfully. Perhaps less luckily though, she was now stuck under the dragon's head. However, that inconvenience was a small price to pay for the fact that Alistair could see her face twitching, grimacing. Alive, thankfully, even if neither of them had been expecting that result.
"Fuck." was the first thing she muttered.
Alistair smiled shakily, almost laughing. "Do you want me to remember that one for the recorders or would you prefer something a bit more eloquent as the speech you'll be remembered by?" he asked, moving to lift the Archdemon's head. He managed to raise it a tiny fraction and Lena pulled herself out, giving him a noncommittal grunt. He dropped it again and offered her a hand.
"Out of all the things they could remember me by, that's nowhere near some of the worst things I've said. Let them remember it." Lena finally replied, taking his hand and slowly easing herself up. She stood for a moment, unsteady on her feet, before turning to Alistair and hugging him with a force that almost staggered him. "And let them remember this, too."
"Wouldn't dream of letting them forget." Alistair said, picking Lena up. She raised an eyebrow, but moved to wrap her legs around his waist.
"Was that really necessary?"
"Perhaps not. But then again, I'm not the one who would have to walk down Maker knows how many flights of stairs on a bad knee. I'll let you decide that one."
Lena gave an exaggerated groan of discomfort, but her soft shaking betrayed her laughter. "If you insist. I suppose I shouldn't complain about a free ride down. I'm not the one carrying an injured person down Maker knows how many flights of stairs after all."