Prologue

Alistair

How could she be gone? I knew that one of us would have to die, there was no way around that. Only a Wardens death could really end the Blight. But… why her? I always assumed that I would be the one to die. The bastard prince with no ambitions, no real sense of family and now no reason to live. She was my reason and now? Now she is gone.

That last word rattled around in Alistair's head like the empty bottles on the floor beside him. He was unsure of how much time had passed nor did he care. Eternity could pass him by and he wouldn't even blink an eye. Maker willing, his life would be short lived and he could see her again soon. Anger coursed through Alistair's viens for a quick minute as he picked up the nearest object and hurled it across the room. The empty ale bottle shattered against the wall just beside the door as it began to open.

"Alistair, Fergus is here. He said that he would like for you to help him with the arrangements, if you feel up to it." Leliana's grey eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked everywhere except at him. She did not move from where she was standing, just outside the door, Neither of these were acts that went unnoticed.

"Why did you come to tell me this? Out of everyone in this damned castle, why you? You are, were, her closest friend. You should hate me, never want to see me again. You should be calling for my head on a pike. You and her brother. I...I should have fought her harder. I should have never let her take that final blow. I should have ignored her orders and left my post and been on the battlefield with her. I could have at least taken the blighted archdemons life with her. Then maybe she would be here instead of me." Tears began to roll down the young warriors face as he spilled his heart to the Orlesian bard.

Leliana crossed the room towards her brokenhearted friend. Knowing there was no way of consoling him she offered the only peace that she could for him: her dearest and most trusted friend's final words.

Bending down in front of him she took his head in both of her hands and gently lifted it up so that he was looking her in the face. She could see the look of anguish and despair in his eyes. She hoped that the truth would ease his burden some.

"Alistair, you did nothing wrong. There was nothing you could have done differently and if you had died and Ari lived...she would have been worse off than you are now. We all had strict instructions to keep you away from that battlefield. We swore to her that we would do everything in our power to keep you alive. Ferelden need you alive and...and…" Tears began to fall unchecked down her pale face. She couldn't bring herself to tell the young man the secrets that her now deceased friend confided in her just nights before. She pulled a battered and slightly bloodstained book out of her pocket. Gently caressing the cover she slowly placed it in Alistair's hands. "This was Ari's diary. She left it in my care to give to Fergus. I think, however, you need this more than he does. May this give you some peace and solace. I will tell Fergus that you need some time before you can join us." With that the redheaded bard stood and left Alistair to his thoughts.

Just as Leliana reached the door she pause to take one final time to look at the broken man sitting on the floor, staring intently at the cover of the book she had just given him. Alistair was partly right, he was not her friend any longer but it was not for the reasons that he believed them to be. It was not because she was dead and that he had failed them all. Oh, no that wasn't it. Ari had prepared them all for this because she knew this would be the outcome all along. "Help him," Ari had pleaded only hours before her death. "Help him understand that it had to be me instead of him, and when he finally realizes that, help him to remember why I did all of this… for everyone, for Ferelden… for him. Pro rege et patria."

"Pro rege et patria." Leliana whispered the silent mantra hoping that it was just quiet enough that Alistair would not hear it. The first time that everyone tried to console him Wynne uttered the phrase, trying to give Alistair a bit of comfort that Ari had lived, and died, by her families creed-for king and country. He swore right then that if he ever heard those words said in his presence that his first act as king, and he spat that word out of his mouth like it was rotten meat, that he would kill whoever had said it. Not that anyone had believed him though. Alistair was harmless and it was just the hysterics of a grief stricken man who had just lost his lover and best friend.

Leliana turned and shut the door behind her. The tears that had been falling slowly and silently matured into full-blown, body shaking sobs. Alistair had it wrong. It wasn't him that had failed Ari, it was her. She had failed to carry out her friends last wish; Alistair was on the fast track to becoming a bitter hearted, grief stricken alcoholic and Leliana was clueless as to help him. He was shutting everyone out and self-destructing. That is why he was not the friend she had come to know and love, because he was not the man that she had come to know and love. He was dying without Ari here.

"Blessed art thou who exist in the sight of The Maker. Blessed art thou who seeks his forgiveness. maker guide me and Ari help me." Those last words came on a sob as Leliana walked back downstairs to rejoin everyone. She knew they were waiting on an update on Alistairs condition, what was the whole reason behind the visit. Steeling herself for their hopeful looks she entered the room and gently shook her head 'no.' Almost instantly the room felt to small, the air to thick and stale and everyones eyes to accusing.

Alistair watched as Leliana turned back towards him. Sadness illuminating her eyes like candlelight.

"Pro rege et patria," he heard her whisper, and with that she was gone. He knew that it wasn't really meant for him to hear and that it was also Leliana's way of justifying what had happened, why it had happened.

The leather cover of the book was a beautiful shade of blue when it was new. However the wear and tear of the battles and sweat from the slender fingers that would hold it had stained it in places and made it a murky color in places. Even with the dirt and grime, the blue was still a beautiful shade to behold, the color of the Waking Sea just after a winter storm. Not that Alistair would know personally; he had never been to Highever and seen the sea just after a winter's storm but that was how Ari had described it the first time he had seen her writing in the diary. Well not the first time but maybe the first time that they actually sat down to talk civilized without yelling and arguing.

Running a finger over the design on the cover, Alistair began to trace the embossment. It was a laurel wreath-the heraldry of the Cousland family, the ruling family of Highever. The gold leafing that used to cover the embossment had long faded. Tracing the design once more and then once again, Alistair suddenly began to feel calm. Just holding something of hers made him feel like she was somehow still here with him. Taking a deep breath he opened the cover to see her beautiful calligraphic handwriting. Alistair was unsure of what Leliana was trying to tell him or what good reading the past would hold for him. Surely this would cause him more pain that good right-rereading their journey together, both the good times and the bad? A feeling of urgency surged over him, coaxing him to continue this. As if by The Maker's will alone, Alistair looked at the graceful writing again and began to read silently.

My name is Ariana Celeste Cousland, and I am a Grey Warden.