Disclaimer: BioWare own all things Dragon Age
It happened one night
Elena Cousland woke with a start, her heart pounding. She looked at her surroundings and for a moment nothing was familiar. Then as she began to feel the hard ground beneath her body she began to remember . . .
She had been dreaming of home, and all that meant: love, family and safety.
It had been a beautiful day at Highever – cloudless blue skies with a gentle breeze – and she had been enjoying her family's company. Her parents had been discussing their next trip to Denerim, while her brother Fergus and his wife had watched their son, Oren, learning to ride his new horse. Even as she had enjoyed the calmness and love that encompassed her - she knew.
Now, waking to the certainty that it was all gone, once again shattered her heart. How could she survive these feelings resurfacing again? Quickly she moved to her feet, she needed to be outside. She needed the air on her face, to move, to not think or feel. She stumbled out of her tent and began to walk. Not fully paying attention to where she was going, and certainly not seeing Alistair's startled face as his fellow Grey Warden disappeared in nothing but her nightclothes!
She moved, without even being fully aware of it, towards the stream where she had washed earlier. Desperately trying not to think of all she had lost, but unable to focus on anything else. The faces of her beloved parents, her brother, her sister – in – law, her nephew appeared in her mind. Then still more: Ser Gilmore, Mother Mallol, Nan all lying dead at her feet . . . would it never end? Would she never again see them whole, would she be forever tormented with these memories? With a cry of anguish she fell to her knees by the side of the stream. Finally succumbing to the pain and the loss.
Alistair followed the ghostly figure ahead of him; she seemed to be moving towards the stream. As he walked he began to question himself, what if she wanted some privacy? Maker knew it was hard to find in camp. He should know. For what seemed an eternity he had been waiting to try and explain to her what she had come to mean to him. Each time however he had stopped, either from the damned lack of privacy or by a haunted look that had crossed her face. Tonight when he had seen her emerge from her tent his heart had soared until he had seen her face - the utter devastation etched across it. No, privacy or not he had to help her in whatever way he could, as she had helped him come to terms with the loss of Duncan. An agonised cry pierced the stillness of the night and she fell to her knees. At the sight Alistair ran forward towards her.
"Elena?" he whispered not wanting to startle her, but needing to let her know he was there. "Elena what's wrong? Please tell me." As he spoke he gently laid his hand on her shoulder, and at his touch she looked up.
He drew in a deep breath. She was as pale as the moon, her eyes filled with unshed tears and a look of loss and torment covered her face.
"Alistair?" she whispered. Her hands reached towards him, as he captured them in his own he felt how cold she was and he realised that she was trembling.
Alistair fought a war within himself. He longed to pull her close against his body, to soothe and reassure, but instead he simply held onto her hands.
"Elena, please tell me what's wrong. Was it a nightmare? The darkspawn?"
She shook her head and dropped her gaze from his.
"Not a nightmare, worse. I was so happy Alistair."
"I don't understand," he replied sounding confused "Why are you so shaken? What did you see?"
Elena drew in a breath and from somewhere found the courage to meet his gaze. His beautiful eyes were warm with concern, and as she became more focused on him she realised that the hands holding hers were stroking her palms softly to comfort. And she knew . . . it was time to trust again. To tell this man, to trust him, with who she was. To begin to trust him with her heart.
"I am so sorry Alistair, I've let you down," she murmured.
"Let me down? How could you possibly have let me down?" he asked.
"I . . . I . . . " by the Maker this was so hard. "I haven't told you the truth Alistair. You don't know who I am."
"What do you mean?"
"My name is Elena, Elena Cousland, and I'm not just from Highever, my family is Highever. My father is . . . was Teyrn Bryce Cousland."
Silence followed her admission, but, she realised, he had not let go of her or ceased the gentle stroking of her hands. Taking this as a good sign she continued to explain.
"It happened a few months ago. My father and his forces had been called into the King's service to fight. A few days later Arl Howe arrived claiming that his forces had been delayed, and it was then that I met Duncan. He had come to recruit a new warden, Ser Gilmore, one of my father's most trusted knights. If I had been more aware, less trusting, maybe I could have stopped everything. If I'd just . . . just . . . " her voice broke and she had to pause. But she knew she couldn't stop, however painful. She had to tell him everything. He deserved that.
"That night, Max woke me up with his barking, and I could hear voices. As I went to the door it burst open, there was a servant shouting, but in a heartbeat he was dead, an arrow in his back. He was the first I saw fall that night. My mother came running in to me and together we went into my brother's room." Unthinkingly she grasped Alistair's hands more tightly as she began to recall what was most painful.
"They were dead. My little nephew, my sister – in – law, they were just lying there. She was reaching for him Alistair! Her hand was stretched out reaching for her son, and I was too late!"
Alistair's stomach clenched as she paused. He had guessed that she had suffered some sort of trauma, but he had never imagined this. He almost couldn't bear to let her continue, his overwhelming instinct was to comfort her, in any way he could. But he knew, from his own experiences that she needed to talk, to let the horror out before it ate her up from the inside.
"It's alright, I'm here, and you're safe now. What happened next my love?" he enquired gently. Neither of them consciously aware of the endearment he had used yet both comforted by it.
"Mother and I fought our way to the great hall trying to find my father. Instead we found Ser Gilmore, he was trying to hold the doors against Howe's men. We all knew that it was a matter of time. Howe's forces had the upper hand – it was clear. Ser Gilmore told us that my father had gone to the servant's entrance. I wanted to stay with him, to fight, but he would not allow it, and I left him, left him to die! Maker, I just turned and ran Alistair! What does that make me?"
"Courageous my love. You did what you had to. Ser Gilmore knew his duty was to protect you, you cannot and must not blame yourself." Although he thought he knew what had happened next he had to ask. "Did you find your father?"
Elena gave a small almost imperceptible nod, "Yes . . . he was in the larder. He had been trying to find us when he had been wounded. There was so much blood . . . his blood, and I think then I knew that he wasn't going to survive. But I was ready to fight for him, for them both, and then Duncan arrived. He made it clear that I needed to leave with him, join the Grey Wardens, and survive! Too my horror my parents agreed. My mother decided to stay to protect my father, and buy me time to escape. Then we were gone. I . . . I abandoned them Alistair; I should have fought Duncan, stayed by their side. Died with them if that was what was needed. Instead I found myself at Ostagar with you. And even with everything we went through I could not tell you, because if I told you it would make it real. I would have to admit to myself that I betrayed my family. Then I betrayed you by not telling you everything, putting you in even more danger. I am so sorry Alistair!"
And finally the tears she had been holding back broke through, her body shook with the sobs racking it. Alistair sighed with relief, knowing that her tears would finally allow her to begin to heal. Without further thought he pulled her into his arms and simply held her.
After a while the tears slowed and the shaking of her body subsided to quiet occasional tremors. Alistair gently kissed the top of her head and moved her slightly away from his body so he could once again see her eyes.
"Elena," he paused not wishing to use the wrong words, to make it so much worse for her. "I am so sorry my love. I wish that there were something I could say or do to make your pain go away. To help you, but know this, you have not let me down. I understand completely what you have done and why. I am glad that you were able to trust me, to share this with me. I want you to know that there is no betrayal . . . you are . . . special to me. Nothing you say or do will ever change that." Alistair took a deep breath knowing that what he said next would alter their relationship permanently.
"I . . . care about you a great deal. I will never hurt you, and I will always be there for you, whenever you desire."
She looked intently into his eyes, whatever she saw there reassured and began to quiet her restless heart at last.
"Thank you Alistair. That means so much to me, I . . . care for you too. And know this, I will do my utmost to protect you, to stay by your side throughout this, and I will never hurt you." She smiled then, and he felt his heart soar at the sight of it.
As he pulled her back into his arms they sat together quietly watching the gentle ripples of the stream, and while neither knew it both dreaming of the same future.
A/N: My first ever story. Please review and let me know what you think.