DA:O When Heroes Must Rise

If Niall had known, he wondered if things might've been different.

What he remembered about her was not quite the woman who stood before him now. Young Miss Surana was no longer that endearingly uncertain apprentice he had known at the Circle Tower. No, the Warden was now a young woman, still hesitant, but learning quickly out of necessity. He felt sad to see certain aspects of her shattered forcibly due to her calling as a Warden, but at the same time she seemed to have retained that key aspect about herself that he had…

"Aren't you coming to help?" Surana asked, an edge of alarm in her voice, "The demon is dead now, so we should all be able to wake up."

Niall's only reply was to cast his gaze to the side. He raised it again, hesitating, "I… Cannot go with you."

"Wh-Why not?" Though he recognized that she already knew the answer. Surana stepped forward, "Why can't you—I mean… Isn't there anything I… Niall…?" Her eyes were shining brightly before the first tear rolled down her cheek.

"I have been here too long…" Niall explained numbly, feeling his fingertips grow cold, "There is not much of me left…" He watched as her other companions turned away, to give them a moment. A last moment, Niall thought with some bitterness. His gaze returned to the young woman, who was looking younger each time another tear fell and trickled off of her chin.

Surana sniffled, her lower lip trembling dangerously. She bit it, determined not to break under the sudden and sharp pain in her chest. There had to be some way to heal him, to save him. What good was magic if she couldn't save Niall? What good would it be if she couldn't tie him back to his body? He wasn't dead yet, was he? "B-but Niall… This isn't how it was supposed to be… I wanted you to be there when I fought. I wanted to show you all the new spells and skills I've learned… You'd be so proud, Niall."

He remembered the long hours in the library, quizzing her on the names of the masters, on the correct herbs to use to create a healing poultice or how to properly mix a lyrium potion. Niall remembered secretly enjoying guiding her hands for her, or leaning over her from behind when she requested that he check her work. Sometimes he felt slightly ashamed, feeling as though he was taking advantage of her when he did such things, and would carry on the study session from the chair across from her. Occasionally when Surana wasn't really concentrating and had her head in the clouds, Niall found it really humorous to startle her. She would yip, jerk mightily, and sometimes spill a stack of books or parchment to the floor. Whist he was laughing uproariously, she would peer around sheepishly to see if anyone had seen [of course they had].

Niall stepped forward, peering down at her face, "Please don't cry for me, Surana. I… I am more than my ancestors could've hoped for really." He let out a weak laugh.

Her only reply was another sniffle, the young Warden's eyes were beginning to look puffy and her nose was quite red. When she tried to speak, her voice came out hoarse. She tried again, and it was barely a whisper, "But Niall—" Surana's voice cracked, and suddenly she was sobbing. Loudly. She managed between sobs, "I haven't—told—you…!"

When he next spoke Niall's voice held a small sense of wonder, "Surana…" He had to know. He had to know. Desperation glistened in his eyes, "Surana! Surana, look at me, please!" And when she raised her eyes to meet his, he knew, Maker damn it, he knew. He felt traces of something hot pouring down his face and burned with the knowledge that she…

"Niall, you can't die," Surana's small, frail hands found his own. The Warden was no longer that pillar of strength that she had to represent, but the small, frail apprentice from her beginnings. She squeezed his fingers, voice thick, "Not when—I… I haven't become strong enough to even tell you yet…!"

"But Surana," His voice was gentle, though his throat was tight and his chest pounding. Memories flashed through Niall's mind: walking the grounds in early summer, late nights in the muggy library pouring over books, warming their hands by the fireplaces in the chill of winter, eating meals in the hubbub of the dining hall. All the time she had stayed close, and though he had yearned for it, he hadn't seen that it was already there. This was, he knew, his last chance to tell her as well, "I know now, Surana." His arms found their place around her small form, pulling her close, "I know now… Even though now is too late." He wanted to scream.

Surana shuffled closer to him, leaning against his chest and listening to the rapid beat of his heart. This would be their first, and last, embrace. Balancing herself by placing her hands lightly against him, she peered shyly up at him. He looked surprised, moreso when she balanced on her toes.

Niall couldn't help but grin when her face reddened in embarrassment. She was too short to reach him, even standing on her tiptoes. He leaned down, covering the rest of the distance rapidly, and hovered over her lips. She had closed her eyes nervously, and he stared a moment at her face. Just beyond them, he spied her companions shifting on the heels of their feet [facing away thankfully] and remembered that they all had little time to spare.

The kiss was chaste, a press of his lips against her own. To give or take more would be…cruel of him. In reality, he was already dead, and though he wished for more, it wasn't his place to be that person. Still, some small, selfish part of him did not want to be forgotten. He broke the kiss, pressing something metal into her hands. Lips still hovering close, he explained, "Just… take this."

Her hand curled around it; a ring.

"It's not… anything special… I just always thought of it as my lucky ring," Niall pulled back and watched her observe it. It was far too big for any of her fingers, but she clutched it in her hand and tearfully looked up at him.

"I—"

"Don't," It sounded sharp, even to Niall. He closed his eyes and composed himself, "I know." It would be unfair if it were a dead man holding her heart, surely. "I know, Surana. Me too."

The companions seemed to sense that their moment was over and drifted back, Wynne looking quite sad as she watched them. Niall drew himself up.

"Take the Litany… from my… My body. You will need it in your fight against Uldred." Niall caught Surana's hand as she turned. He had lowered his voice, "And take the ring as well, Surana." What he asked was selfish, but he hoped the Maker would forgive him. To have her carry a physical weight of a dead man's affections seemed… But he didn't want to be forgotten completely…

"I will." She said, resolutely. Shining in her eyes, a quiet resolve. Clearly this is what the First Enchanter, and the Warden Duncan had seen in her. She threw herself against him and gave him a kiss that was both too short and too long. He wondered if the feeling of heat and elation was heightened because of the Fade around them.

And just like that, she was gone.

"I will…watch over you if I can… Surana." Niall said to the empty Fade.