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Did you know, on the fateful day you spared my life, that your days were numbered?
Did you know, as we sat warily around the campfire night after night, unsure of the other’s intent, or even of our own, that there were only so many campfires left in our mutual future?
Did you know, as you navigated dwarven politics, blood mage atrocities and werewolves, that you were laying the groundwork for a united Ferelden-wide army unseen since the last Blight?
Did you know, as you stood before Andraste’s ashes, that you would soon be joining her?
Did you know, when you sent me off to lead the party that would not be attacking the archdemon directly, that the look I gave you was full of the one word I could never bring myself to speak while you lived?
Did you know how much I wanted you?
How much I needed you?
How much you changed my life?
Did you know, as you lay dead in my arms, my body covered in your blood, a massive dragon our backdrop, that I wept for the first time in more years than I could count?
Did you know, my dearest Warden, how desperately I loved you?
Did you know that without you I would lose my reason for living?
Did you know that I wished to join you?
Did you know this? Any of this?
But how could you, mm?
How could you know that it was only a hand upon my shoulder some weeks later that kept me from ingesting my strongest poison?
How could you know that the kindness you had shown us, each and every one, would result in the continued saving of lives beyond your demise?
How could you know that in mourning your sacrifice, a would-be King and a former assassin would find comfort in each other?
How could you know that your name would never die?
How could you know that your spirit would never die?
How could you know, when you were but an elfling at your Keeper’s knee, that you would become a legend?
How could any of us have guessed the depth and breadth of your impact upon an entire world?
How could I have let you go to your death alone?
How can I find you again when you now sleep beneath the trees of your beloved forest?
How can Alistair and I not weep as each anniversary of losing you comes faster and faster as the years pass?
And how could I have known that so many years after Alistair passed to the Maker’s side, I would see you again? See you reaching out for me, a spectre among the stars, a hand outstretched, a smile upon your lips?
Those who find me in this cave will believe I died alone.
I take your hand and Alistair’s as his spirit appears next to yours.
Those who find me will be wrong.
Take me home, Sienna. I look at Alistair’s shining, bright, ethereal face as I grasp your hand, life force slipping out of my old elf body and into the stars with you.
Take us both home.