The Price

By: The DreamWeaver

Summary: The price we pay to do things others only dream of… Can be higher than we know…

Spoilers: Only the game.

Disclaimer: Welcome, dear Reader, to a tale woven for you by the DreamWeaver. This fiction has been spun for you all to enjoy and the DreamWeaver hopes that the story that follows will please you. Remember, love comes in the most unexpected places and happiness can be found where ever you go. Remember, the DreamWeaver works within and around existing legends and the characters in this dream do not belong to the DreamWeaver. The DreamWeaver wishes not to infringe upon the rights of those whom they do belong to. Enjoy

"Father…?" whispered the young woman, the helm covering her vibrant red hair being discarded with a loud CLANG as it clattered to the stone floors and she rushed forward. The tall, shadowy figure of a man in rich clothing and graying hair stood just beyond the doorway, a small smile curving his lips at the sight of the armor clad girl as she pushed past Alistair to get through the doorway first. Grabbing the door frame to steady himself; the former templar watched her gloved hand tremble as she reached toward the tall man, her dim and bruised eyes starting to fill with tears as she checked her reach. "Daddy…"

"You know I am gone, my darling child, and all your dreams and wishes cannot bring me back." The shade of Valeria's father, Teryn Bryce Cousland, spoke in a strange, echoing voice; his eyes riveted to his daughter's face, taking in her drawn features, the cares weighing too heavily on her shoulders. The pain radiating from her was almost tangible, the ache deep in her heart starting to consume her very soul. "You must grieve my girl; then you must take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let go. The time has come, Pup."

Alistair started as the former teryn's words struck a deep realization and he glanced over Valeria's shoulder to catch the gazes of Wynne and Morrigan and, to his horror, they nodded. So caught up was he in his own musings, falling deeper and deeper in love with the fiery haired Grey Warden with each passing day, he had not noticed the changes occurring in her. He had become so focused after discovering that, despite all the death and destruction, someone could show so much care and gentleness toward him… That he had fell irrevocably in love with her, his mind became consumed with finding some way to tell her. And that stopped him from seeing what was happening to her…

As the days and weeks had passed, her face had grown pale and deep circles had formed under her eyes. Each step they took as they trekked across Ferelden, following the treaties to gain aid against the Blight, seemed to weigh heavier and heavier on her. The despair in her eyes had grown darker and deeper, lines furrowing into her brow as she spoke less and less each night. She ate little, slept even less and seemed plagued by nightmares that not even Alistair suffered, her features growing more and more haggard as the miles passed beneath their boots.

But the real truth was what astounded him the most; that, in all those days and weeks of travel, not once had their fearless leader ever shed a single tear, made more than the merest mention that her family had been massacred, shown any sign that her world had been shattered… Valeria had never been given a chance to grieve for her family, for the loss of the people she had loved the most.

Instead, she was given the nearly impossible mission of saving Ferelden from the Blight, handed the monumental task of amassing an army of elves, dwarves and men to march against the darkspawn horde with no guidance, no support, nothing but hopes and prayers. Her wishes and dreams, her feelings and pain, were forcefully shelved until nothing remained except single-minded determination and the will to simply soldier on. But the heartbreak, the black despair, was clawing at her from the inside out, dragging at her until her feet became heavy to lift and food turned to ash in her mouth. And it was now that her closest companions were witness to the crumbling of that iron fisted self control that she had maintained for so long. The carefully wrought façade was cracking in the presence of the shade of her deceased father.

"Daddy… I have so much…" The swell of emotion choked off her trembling words and she swallowed hard to regain control of her throat. At her side, Alistair started to reach for her, to give something… Some kind of reassuring touch or anything to let her know that she was not facing this alone… But something held him back and he too checked his reach and only stood close in the hopes that she would know that he was there for her.

"You have such a long road ahead of you and you must be prepared." Bryce stepped closer to his daughter, his precious child, and extended his hand to her with the coiled chain and pendant of an amulet waiting in his palm.

Valeria's tremulous hand took the amulet from her father's palm; fingers desperately feeling for some hint of warmth or solidity, anything that might tell her that this was more than just a shadow of what was dearest to her. Tears spilled over as she looked up into his beloved, lined face and his voice rose with pride. "So I leave this in your hands. I know you will do great things with it."

"Daddy, I…" Valeria's words died on her lips as the shadow of Bryce Cousland faded and she gasped in horror. Her free hand scrabbled through the air, desperately reaching for him as he vanished completely from view, before a cry of despair escaped her, striking deep at Alistair's heart as her knees went out from underneath her and she collapsed to the ground.

"Daddy, no! Please, come back! Please, come back…" she begged the empty air in front of her as her hands came up to mask her face and prevent the others from seeing her heart breaking. Unable to just stand back while the woman he loved broke down on the stone floor, Alistair sunk to his knees at her side and his arms curved around her armored waist. Drawing her into him, his heart broke at the feel of her slender frame shaking with suppressed sobs as she whispered pleas for her deceased father to just come back for one more minute…

"We must press on…" Morrigan was hesitant to interrupt, Valeria had become so much like a sister to her over the past weeks of travel and fighting, but time was pressing.

"Give her a moment for pity's sake!" Alistair snapped over the top of Valeria's head, but Wynne held her hand up.

"I must agree, we cannot linger… Every moment could mean Arl Eamon's demise… We must get the Ashes…" the grandmotherly woman stepped closer to pick up Valeria's discarded helm as she spoke. The icy glare Alistair shot the two mages should have frozen them both in place before he spoke softly into the beautiful female's hair.

"We can't stay, my dear… We have to keep going… There will be time… Come on…" His words were gentle and reassuring as he drew her chin up to look at him. Her vivid green eyes were drenched in tears and they rolled down her cheeks so piteously that he cursed softly under his breath before loosening his grasp on her waist. Hauling himself to his feet with some effort, he leaned down to help her upright as well and she leaned heavily on his arm until she joined him in standing. "There will be time… When we get out of here, we'll sort this all out…"

"I want them back, Alistair…" she whispered as he slipped his arm around her waist to attempt to guide her around the corner, his free hand reaching for her helm from Wynne.

"I know sweetheart… I know…"

The DreamWeaver hopes that this part of a dream has pleased you, dear Reader, and, if it has, perhaps you will honor the DreamWeaver with a review.

May your dreams guide you on the pathway to the joys of tomorrow.