Warden of your choices as s/he stabs the archdemon, sans ritual, and dies. /morbid
So it comes to this.
I wasn’t built to heft a greatsword, but Sten insisted I learn. And Oghren thought it was funny. We had a few laughs, didn’t we?
I knew freedom. I knew friendship. I knew love. Fine, sure, I knew betrayal and horror and loss too, but … I knew life.
No wonder Jowan wanted out so bad. I think I can forgive him, a little, for using me.
The only problem with life is that it’s addictive. There are so many things I’ve done that I never dreamed I’d do, and now all I can think is that I wish I’d done more.
I wish I’d taken Isabela up on that threesome thing.
I wish I could’ve married Alistair, somehow.
Hell, I wish there could have been threesome with Zevran. He was good. I sometimes wish I hadn’t had to choose.
I just … wish there’d been more. And that I could have said ‘I love you’ one last time. To Alistair. To Zevran. To all of them. Because I did. I do. Whatever becomes of me, I always will. I wish them well. Long and happy lives, all of them. Screw the rest of Thedas; that’s what I’m doing this for.
Right. Here goes nothing…