Pain shot through her entire body and she felt disappointment bubble up in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't dead; death wasn't this painful. If she wasn't dead it meant that she had survived and though she knew she should feel grateful she couldn't manage to find any gratitude anywhere.

She groaned as her dark eyes flickered open. The only light was the last few rays of dusk fading behind the thick trees. It had been light when she had lost consciousness which meant that she had been laying there for hours. It was a miracle nothing had found her broken body. Surely the Blight Wolves and Darkspawn were out and about. But there was only eerie silence and an ominous chill in the air. No cry of the Blight Wolf pierced the silence and the stench of the Darkspawn was nowhere to be found. She was safe; for now.

She watched as the leaves of the sylvan trees rustled above her and she sucked in a deep breath and cringed as another jolt of pain nearly pushed all the air right back out of her lungs in a vicious hiss. She really had taken quite the tumble. She wondered what else on her body was suffering as she focused on moving first her toes, then her fingers and eventually she shifted her right leg. So far everything seemed to be in working order and she managed to move her left leg with little more than a wince of discomfort. Her arms obeyed as well and she soon pushed herself into a sitting position.

A quick survey of her surroundings told her that she had fallen deep into a ravine and a glance upward confirmed just that. She could see where the ledge was, could picture herself standing too near as the Darkspawn charged her, knocking her down as well as itself. She searched for the Hurlock and found it lying stone still several feet away. Serve the damn thing right, she thought bitterly.

Her eyes moved back up the ravine wall and she squinted into the approaching darkness. If she had been unconscious for hours what had happened to her companions? Had no one come to look for her? Had no one noticed her missing? Had they even survived the ambush themselves?

The last thought made her sick to her stomach and she shook her head as if hoping to shake the thoughts away. Of course they had survived. They had found their way out of tighter situations before. A Darkspawn ambush could not stop them. They were a formidable force.

Her bow and arrow lay just out of reach and she decided that now would be a good time to stand up and get moving. The longer she sat, the more dangerous it became. Darkness would be upon her soon and while she was a force to be reckoned with in the company of others, she would surely be overpowered on her own.

It took more effort than necessary to haul herself to her feet and she swayed, throwing out a hand to steady herself against the cold rock of the ravine wall. She clutched at her side and pulled her hand away after a few seconds, studying the sticky red substance on her fingers.

"Damn," She frowned and stumbled forward, fumbling for her bow and arrow and slung them over her back. She had nothing to dress her wound with and she loosened her Dalish armor as much as she could to make herself more comfortable. Though every step she took made it feel like her side was being torn open repeatedly and it took everything she had to bite her tongue and not cry out.

Her breath formed small clouds in the air as the sun disappeared entirely as she kept close to the trees, keeping her movements small and as quiet as possible. Her father had trained her to be a stealthy fighter, but it was difficult to accomplish with so many aches and pains.

She wanted to sit and rest or to sleep the night away, but she knew that falling asleep now would be dangerous. Either someone – or something – would find her or she had a sickening feeling that she wouldn't be waking up from her next slumber.

Grey Warden or not, she was still only human and the fall had taken a terrible toll on her body. She refused to die alone and she was determined to find her companions or at least die trying.

She stumbled on a tree root and the tree groaned in protest. Her hands flew out to brace herself against the hard ground but her arms buckled and she toppled to the leaves and rolled onto her side.

She had never been one for tears or for giving up, but her options were slowly dwindling as was her hope of making it out of this forest. She had heard not a single sound except the sound of her own ragged breathing. Perhaps they had moved onto Denerim in preparation for the Landsmeet and were expecting her to join them. Or perhaps they had abandoned all hope that she had managed to survive such a terrible fall. Not even Alistair had enough faith to believe that she had lived. The thought of the grief on his face made her heart ache and she wished for nothing more than to reach out and touch him, to tell him all the things she had been holding back for all this time.

"You are a Cousland, Elena," She jumped at the unexpected voice shattering the silence and she searched the darkness wildly, but there was nothing. The voice inside her own head and she closed her eyes after breathing a sigh of relief.

"You were born to do great things," Her father's voice rang loud and clear in her ears and she sighed, frowning.

"I can take no more of this, Father. I have done all I can do," She answered into the darkness, her voice sounded foreign to her own ears and her throat ached from the effort.

"You are giving up," The disappointment in his tone struck her and she rolled onto her back, her hand pressed against her side once more.

"I am accepting death and failure," She said definitely, opening her eyes and staring up into the glaring face of the moon.

"There is still much left for you to do. Have faith in yourself, Pup, as I have faith in you," She felt her eyes stinging with tears. So much had happened in so little time and she was still struggling to grasp it all. They had sought out the Dalish, the Dwarves and the Circle of Magi. They had restored order when the rest of the world was still falling apart. She had never been given proper time to grieve for the fall of Castle Cousland and her kin.

"I have no faith in anything anymore," She said finally, her voice trembling. "I hate this. I hate what I've become, what I've been asked to do. I hate that I had to lose everything because of this stupid Blight," She hardly realized she had been shouting and the howl of the Blight Wolf echoing in the distance chilled her to the bone. She wished she could howl right along with it, to add her own mournful cry to his.

She waited for a response from her father, but there came nothing and she was once again left feeling empty and alone though she was less depressed about her inevitable death. The cold was more bearable and the chorus of howls became strangely comforting. She studied her blood covered hand for a moment longer and dropped it to her side.

"I'm sorry," She breathed, hoping her apology would be carried with the wind and reach her friends. At least Alistair should know that she was sorry that she had failed him. He had counted on her the most and she had let him down and she would never be able to tell that to him; would never be able to tell him that she loved him and that she had been blessed by the Maker to have ever met him.

The tears spilled effortlessly down her cheeks. She had always pictured dying nobly in the jaws of the Archdemon, not forgotten in the woods. None of it had ever been for the fame and glory, but for only doing what was right and what had to be done. It was her duty to defend Ferelden. She supposed she had done well to save those she could along the way, but she could have done more. She hated the idea of dying with so many regrets.

She watched the shadows move above her and blinked as they began to move together and she was unable to tell where one ended and the other began.

"Alistair," The sound of his name was sweet against her lips and she smiled as she felt herself slowly slipping out of consciousness. "Forgive…me…"