"Leraen, wake up."
The Warden's eyes flew open when she felt a hand nudge her shoulder. They were still traveling that day, and Leraen had become so exhausted that she could hardly keep her eyes open. The last few nights of little sleep had finally caught up with her, and she was beginning to hate that she had refused the opportunity to rest more that morning. Teagan rode next to her, and while he did his best to keep her awake, she was just too weary to engage herself in anything.
"I'm going to go and tell Eamon that we need to stop for the night," said Teagan. Lines of worry creased his forehead and concern flashed in his eyes. He urged his horse to quicken his gait and caught up with his elder brother who was leading the company.
Leraen was flooded with relief when Eamon finally decided that it was time for the party to stop. He had earlier determined to have reached the fork where the roads to Denerim and Redcliffe would separate and currently seemed to be rather annoyed that they wouldn't be reaching his goal that day. Given, it was early to be stopping; the sun had hardly started its descent and there was still plenty of light to travel by. Leraen no longer cared, though. It would be better for them to stop to rest than to have their queen fall asleep and take a tumble off of her horse.
The poor lady was so tired. The past few days had been so mentally exhausting from all of the raging emotions that would not let her go, and the lack of sleep she had received was not helping. She was so fatigued that she could barely keep her balance in the saddle, and had dozed off so hard a couple of times that she had nearly fallen off of her horse. Teagan, who had ridden beside her during the whole trip, did his best to keep her awake by trying to keep conversation and by telling stories, but Leraen was so tired that she could hardly pay attention to them any longer.
Thankfully, the group stopped once they found a clearing in the trees.
"Leraen, let me help you," Teagan voiced while he quickly dismounted and tethered his horse to a nearby tree trunk. He placed his hands around Leraen's waist and helped her down, ensuring that her landing would be gentle enough to not cause any further injury to her healing legs.
"Thank you," Leraen said.
"I think that some rest is in order, don't you? Let me fetch the canvas and posts and I'll set your tent up for you."
Leraen nodded. If he would have offered on any other day she would have protested since she would have been determined to set it up for herself, but on that night she was so tired that she could hardly focus on anything other than being able to lay herself down to sleep. She sat down on a nearby fallen log and began to play with the grass to try to keep herself conscious. Her companions busied themselves with their own chores: starting the fire, preparing dinner, setting up the other tents, but they never approached her. Perhaps they wanted Teagan to have more time with her? Leraen didn't think on it too hard; her tired mind could hardly make any sense out of it.
Teagan returned a couple of minutes later once he had finished, and taking her hands in his, helped her to stand to her feet.
"I have to admit that you worry me, Leraen." He said while he walked her towards her tent. "With all these changes that are coming you can't continue to get this little sleep."
"I know," she answered. She felt slightly annoyed by his concern but also flattered that he seemed to care for her so much already, and her weary mind became extremely puzzled by the strange mixture of the two feelings. "I'm sorry to worry you so."
"There you go, apologizing again," he slightly chuckled. "You have more to be concerned with than me, my lady." He lifted the flap to the tent and let go of Leraen's hand while she walked inside. "If you need anything, don't be afraid to find me, all right?"
Leraen turned to face Teagan and was surprised by the look on his face. He smiled, but his eyes spoke of fear, probably for her and her child's health and well-being. Leraen smiled back in an attempt to alleviate his worry, but she was quite sure that it came off as more of a weary grimace.
"I will," she answered at last. She allowed the flap of her tent to close before she began to unfasten her leather armor. She let the pieces fall to the ground in a heap before she crawled into her bedroll and pulled the blanket up to her chin. She could hear voices that came from outside her tent, and it was pretty clear that they were talking about her, but she was too tired to care.
She instead closed her eyes and let sleep claim her and take her away.
"Leraen!"
The Warden sat up and rubbed her eyes. Who could be calling her at this late an hour? She rose and lifted the flap of her tent to see who had called her. She gasped as she saw who was there, blinked twice, and nearly began to cry when he didn't disappear.
"Father!" She shouted as she ran into his arms. "How are you - where did you - " she stuttered, not sure how to voice the many questions she had over her father's supposed death.
"It's not important, pup." He said while he stroked her hair. "I'm just so glad we found you. We missed you so much!"
"We?" Leraen asked, completely perplexed by this turn of events. "Who did you bring with you?"
And that's when she saw them. Filing in behind her father were her mother, Oriana and Oren, and her dog, Rover. She laughed in relief and in delight as she went to meet them, and embraced each one of them tightly in turn.
"Auntie Ranie!" Oren shouted when he grabbed onto Leraen's legs. She laughed while she bent down, grabbed him up into her arms, and spun around. He giggled loudly and threw his arms around her neck. How she had missed her little nephew!
"We're so proud of you," her mother said as she grabbed her shoulder.
Her dog ran towards her, barking happily at the sight of his master. Leraen set Oren down before she bent down to hug Rover's neck, and laughed as she received many wet kisses.
"You have another visitor," Oriana said with a knowing smile while she pointed towards the trees. Leraen heard them rustle, and couldn't believe who she saw when her visitor emerged.
Tears of joy came to Leraen's eyes when she realized who it was. She stood to her feet and ran towards him, jumped into his arms, threw her own arms around his neck, and covered his face with kisses.
"It's you, it's really you!" She exclaimed once she felt able to. "How did you come back?"
"Oh, there's no reason to worry about that, is there, darling?" Alistair asked. His voice seemed to have an ethereal ring to it; a bouncy and joyful noise that overjoyed Leraen. "I'm just happy to finally be united with you again. I missed you so much! I'm so sorry that I had to leave you for this dreadfully long amount of time."
"No, it's all right. I'm just so glad to have you back with me."
Alistair set her down and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and entangling his fingers in her hair. When they were done, he smiled at her and just laughed out of his newly found happiness, and Leraen joined him.
"I'm so excited to be back with you. Are you ready to start a family with me?"
Leraen nodded.
He kissed her once again on her forehead. "I can't believe this is happening. Who knew that this was even possible?" he said, referring to the child his wife was bearing. "You are going to make such a good mother."
"And you are going to be a fantastic father." Leraen moved her hand to caress Alistair's cheek. This was all too surreal to her.
"You two are going to make wonderful rulers, too." Bryce Cousland strode towards them with a large grin that lit up his face. "I am so happy for you both. You have grown up so much, pup." He placed a hand on Leraen's shoulder, his pride for his daughter evident on his face.
Suddenly, Leraen heard something else rustle in the trees. It was too quick for an animal and sounded too much like human footsteps. "What was that?" she asked. She grudgingly broke free from Alistair's grasp and went to inspect the forest edge for the intruder.
"Oh, don't worry about him," her father said. "He's just a straggler who has been following us. He won't do any harm."
"Bryce is right," Alistair added. "He's been following us for a while. We're not quite sure why. He is a friendly fellow, though."
Leraen became confused; something was not right. She took a step past the edge of the forest and saw a shadow next to one of the trees. She stepped closer towards the figure, all the while wary of what he wanted.
"Who's there?" she ventured, stepping carefully towards the man.
"Are you saying that you don't recognize me?" A voice rich with a thick Antivan accent asked. He stepped forward into a patch of light where the moonlight had slipped in through the tree branches so that Leraen could more clearly see him.
Leraen gasped. "It – It can't be you. I watched you die!" She stepped back, alarmed by the dead man who was standing before her.
Zevran tsk'ed. "'Twas a terrible travesty, yes? A sad misunderstanding was all it was. Surely we can amend what had happened."
There - she saw the moonlight glint off of an item that he held in his hand. Was it a blade? She turned on her heels and ran out of the forest.
"Alistair! Father! We must get away!" she shouted as she sprinted towards them. "It's Zevran - he's come back for me, and he might hurt all of you, too."
Leraen stopped short. What was wrong with Alistair? He stood still, unaware of the worries that Leraen was shouting about. He face had gone completely pale, and though he neither moved nor spoke, she could see pain through his eyes. He coughed twice and spouted blood out onto his chin.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His knees collapsed and he fell to the ground.
"Alistair!" she screamed. Her feet took her quickly to his side and she knelt down next to him. She was too late; he was no longer breathing and his heart had stopped.
"Leraen," her father's weak voice uttered. She looked towards him just in time to see him collapse. She ran to him next and saw his side terribly bloodied. Tears ran down her face as she closed his eyes; it was too late for him, too.
The Warden ran towards her other family members, praying that she could get to them before they left, but her efforts came to no avail: Oriana was disemboweled, Oren had his wrists cut and had bled out, her mother had a wound that was too large to mend on her stomach, and Rover, who was in his death throes from darkspawn poisoning, was convulsing violently. She cried out once she realized that there was nothing that she could do; they were all dead.
She rose to her feet and turned once she heard him approach her. Fear rose in her chest as she held her quivering hands outward, showing that she did not carry any weapons.
"I'm so sorry, Zevran," she said in between her quickening shallow breaths. She tried to calm her rapidly beating heart but it wouldn't slow down; she knew why he had come back to haunt her and was certain that he wouldn't leave until he had finished what he had set out to do. "I didn't want to kill you. I considered you my friend, but you betrayed me and left me no choice but to defend myself."
Zevran stepped out of the trees and into the moonlight. Leraen could see his chest then: it was wet and red with blood. The wound was exactly where she had stabbed him on that terrible day before the Landsmeet. "It's too late for apologies," he said. "What has been done has been done, and I cannot allow my killer to walk freely."
"Zevran, please. You don't have to do this," she pleaded. She started to frantically look around her for some kind of weapon but saw none, and her recovering body was in no condition to take him on weaponless.
Since she had no other option, she ran away as quickly as her still injured legs would take her. She didn't look back as she ran into the forest, dodging tree trunks, roots, and bushes as she did so. But then, she felt a stray root grab her foot. She screamed as she went down and crashed onto the forest floor. Her ankle ached terribly.
Spurred on by the adrenaline that flooded her veins, she tried to stand up, ignoring the pain that shot through her legs. She yelped as something caught her, pushed her back down, and pinned her against the ground.
Leraen flailed in panic, looking for some escape out of the new prison that she found herself in. She scratched until her nails met flesh and pulled down with all her might, biting deep into his skin. Her assailant grunted in pain, but didn't allow her to find any way out of his grasp. He brutally bent her arms behind her back until Leraen heard terrible pops when her elbows came out of their sockets. She shrieked in agony out of the burning pain that spread across her arms.
"Please, don't do this, Zevran," she begged again. "I am so, so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen!"
"You should have thought of that a long time ago," the elf said. He pulled out his dagger and eyed the blade, making sure that it was clean and sharp. "I am sorry that this had to end this way, Leraen. You must know that I admire you, I truly do, but you must also know that I can't allow you to go free.
"Sleep well, my friend."
Leraen shrieked as he raised his blade and plunged it into her chest.
Leraen awoke with a start. She sat up quickly, gripping at her chest, dizzying herself as she did so. Once her swimming vision returned to normal, she hurriedly looked around her tent for a dagger.
What had happened? She thought while she searched for it. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her sheathed blade sticking out of her rucksack, and she pulled it out and held onto it tightly in her right hand. Had it all been a dream? It must have been; she has seen all of the people who had visited her in her dream die in the past; there was no way that they could have come back to life. That's when she remembered: Zevran had stabbed her in the dream.
Hesitantly, she looked down to her chest and pulled away her hand, half expecting to see it come away bloody. She was flooded with relief when she saw that there was nothing there; it proved to her that the whole horrible ordeal couldn't be anything but a dream.
The Warden froze when she saw a light from outside the canvas of her tent that was progressively coming closer towards her. Who could it be at this late of an hour?
"Leraen, may I come in?" A voice came from outside and Leraen recognized it right away. It was Teagan.
"Of course," she answered. Her guest, who Leraen noted to still be wearing his daytime clothes, lifted the flap and strode in. The lantern that he carried illuminated his face, which showed great concern when he saw her and the weapon she was cradling.
"Are you all right?" He asked. He sat his lantern down in the corner before he strode over to her. "Why are you holding that dagger so tightly?"
"I'm just fine," she answered quickly, trying to dismiss the obvious fear he held in his eyes. She sheathed the weapon before she placed it back into her bag.
"Leraen, you're trembling," he said with a tone of voice that dripped with concern. He unhooked the clasp that hung around his neck and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. "My tent isn't too far from yours and I heard you scream. I was afraid that something had come to harm you, but I am quite relieved to see you safe. Is there anything you wish to speak of?"
"Did I wake you or the others?" She asked, intentionally ignoring his question.
"No. I have not yet retired for the night," he answered. "I didn't see any evidence that any of our other companions had stirred from their rest, though."
Leraen sighed; from the way that Teagan sat next to and looked at her, it became apparent to her that he wasn't content that Leraen was avoiding the question he had posed to her. He sat patiently next to her, waiting for her to give him a satisfactory answer.
"I just had a bad dream, Teagan. That's all."
"It sounded more like a nightmare to me." He reached over and put an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to quell the shakes that still wracked through her body. "Talking about it may help you out more than you think. There's no need for you to bottle up something as terrible as this, Leraen."
She stayed silent for a moment while she willed her body to become still, but it never did.
"During our travels during the Blight, I had an elf that traveled with us named Zevran. He was Antivan, and had been an assassin back in his country. I befriended him, but we had so many differences between the two of us. Looking back, I can see that there was always a strange wall that separated us both, and that he never really trusted me. I truly wish now that I hadn't ever come to trust him.
"Eventually, he betrayed me along with a group of Antivan thieves called The Crows. To keep myself and my companions safe, I... I had to kill him," she said, her voice trembling more as she recalled the terrible memory. "I never wanted to. I considered him a friend, and had hoped that we could work things out. But... I just..." She shook her head. "In my dream, my family had come back to life. Zevran followed them, found me, and began to chase me. My family died in my dream in the ways that they had died here in real life. Zevran continued to pursue and finally caught me. He fatally stabbed me, and that's when I woke up."
Teagan remained silent for a few moments. Something that looked like pained sympathy was apparent on his face. He moved closer to Leraen and took one of her hands into his own. "I have been blessed with not having to kill many men in my lifetime, and I hope that that will not ever change. But when it has been required of me, I have always loathed it. I do not envy the job you had to carry out during the Blight.
"I can honestly say that I don't have much to give you in comfort save to tell you that you are not to blame for his death. He shouldn't have betrayed you, Leraen. As you said, you were forced into defending yourself. And I know that it must hurt terribly to know that you had to bring him his end, but you mustn't hold yourself responsible. You are a hero, not a murderer."
Leraen halfheartedly nodded, but the shaking still wouldn't stop.
Teagan scowled out of worry. "Why don't we go outside and sit by the fire? Perhaps we can fix some hot tea and talk through things some more." Teagan stretched out a hand towards her. Once she accepted it, he helped Leraen to her feet. When he wasn't looking, she snatched her dagger and strapped it to her calf. After that terrible dream she had experienced she felt far too uncomfortable to let go of it when it was so dark outside.
They both walked out of the tent and sat on a log that lay in front of the fire. Once Teagan was ensured that Leraen was settled, he left for his tent and came back with a small pouch, a black pot, a bottle, and two cups. He filled the pot with water from the bottle and set it near the fire to allow it to boil.
"I know my tea won't be anywhere near as good as Wynne's, but perhaps it will help to calm us so that we can go to sleep," he said, leaning back against the log.
Leraen slightly giggled. "That's fine. She's a mage, so who knows? Maybe she cheats."
"Do you think that she has some spells that miraculously improve her cooking?"
"I bet so. And if it is indeed true that she has such spells, we desperately need to find a way for Leliana to become more magically inclined so that she can learn them."
They both laughed at that.
"Leraen, what did you imagine yourself becoming when you were younger?" Teagan asked once they had both caught their breaths. "Did you ever see yourself becoming the Hero of Ferelden or turning into who you are now?"
Leraen smiled, partly out of surprise that the question gave her.
"Well, I wouldn't call myself the Hero, Alistair was that. But when I was very young, I did often imagine myself slaying dragons, killing darkspawn, and rescuing pretty boys who were too weak to rescue themselves."
They both chucked again at the strange gender reversal for that time that had become part of her childhood fantasies.
"When I grew older, though, I was not quite sure of what I wanted to become. As much as I loved and respected my parents, all I knew was that the last thing I wanted was to be stuck at home embroidering while breeding children for a terrible husband, like the circumstances that many noble women land in. But now..."
"But what?" Teagan asked to motivate her to keep speaking.
"It's just that... I was often envious of Fergus for being able to fight to defend his country and his family and keep them safe. For many of my years I thought that I was born into the wrong gender and wished that I could fight alongside him for the honor and glory that I thought came with such a position. But if I had known about all of the pain, all of the loss, all of the death that was truly present in the situations that came my way since I became a Grey Warden, I think I would have finally heard the wisdom that my mother tried to teach me all of those years and would have thrown away those dreams that have caused me so much hurt."
"But it wasn't your choice to become a Grey Warden, was it?"
"Not necessarily. But I always wondered of what would have happened if I simply refused, or of what would have occurred if I tried to escape from Duncan while he slept on a night during our travels to Ostagar. Would someone else have risen up to take the place as the last Grey Warden? What would have happened to my companions? And Alistair... would his fate have been different?"
"But you didn't do any of those things, Leraen. It's too late to change that," Teagan said, sympathetically grabbing her hand. "You courageously persevered forward on the path that was laid in front of you."
Leraen scoffed.
"Teagan, you give me too much credit. I am not courageous." She began to rub her temples; they were beginning to ache terribly, which was probably brought on by the stress her terrible dream caused. "Would you believe me if I told you that through much of my journey before and after the battle at Ostagar that I wished for nothing more than to have died at the hands of one of Howe's men with my family at Highever? Would you have called me a hero any longer if I told you that the only reason that I was ever able to kill was because of the responsibility I carried for those that I traveled with? Teagan, on the day of the battle at Denerim, I nearly ran away from the battle when I first saw all the darkspawn and the damage and the intense smell of death. When I saw it, the Archdemon instilled so much fear within me that I could hardly fight against it. And when I saw Alistair slain and all of the people who had lost their lives, I wanted nothing else but to die with them, just so that I could end my own misery. How is that brave?"
Teagan stayed silent for a few long moments, his eyes filled with deep sympathy and sadness for the lady who sat next to him. "Is bravery the absence of fear, or the determination to persevere, the humility that is necessary to accept the support and help of others, and the sacrifice that it takes to put others before oneself, even when one might feel that their fear for their own safety might swallow him whole? Leraen, you are brave because you have continued on even though you grow fearful, not because you are always fearless. Allowing your companions to help you stay strong, staying at Denerim to see your mission through, fighting for those who are unable to fight for themselves, deciding to live even though you felt like your pain would crush you is what makes you courageous."
Leraen remained quiet while Teagan moved towards the pot filled with water, poured it equally into the two cups, and dropped some tea leaves from the pouch into them. "You're right, Teagan. I just wish that I wasn't so fearful so often."
Teagan smiled while he came back to Leraen's side with one of the cups of tea in each hand. He handed one to her. "Then I will help you bear that burden. These fears are nothing that you should have to carry alone."
Leraen nodded before saying, "Thank you," while she raised the cup up to her to chin, allowing the steam that the hot water produced to warm her against the nippy night air.
Silence filled the air between Leraen and Teagan, but Leraen didn't mind. The beautiful night sky, the crackle of the fire that burned before her, and the soothing chirps of the crickets nearby made the night absolutely lovely. Once her tea had properly steeped, she took a sip of it, and sighed while she let the hot liquid warm her.
"I'm glad to see that you're not shaking anymore," said Teagan with a smile.
"You're right," said Leraen. She couldn't even remember when the tremors had stopped. "I suppose that I did need someone to offer a listening ear."
"See? There's no need for you to keep these things to yourself, and I am ready to lend you my ear whenever you feel you require it."
"Then I will be sure to find you next time that I have a bad dream." She smiled and squeezed Teagan's hand.
Suddenly, Leraen felt that undeniable tingle that brought her out of her reality with a jolt, causing her to spill her cup of tea onto the ground. She could feel them; sense their footsteps, hear their breaths, smell the stench on their bodies from their last kill. It had been so long since she had felt that strange sensation that it had greatly surprised her, even startled her, but after a few moments she instantly knew what it meant.
"Leraen? Leraen! What's wrong?"
Teagan's urgent tone of voice broke her out of her reverie.
"Darkspawn are coming," said the Warden as she drew the dagger from the sheath on her calf. "Wake the others and arm yourself if you can."
Teagan nodded as he rose from his seat and ran in the direction of the other tents. Leraen ran back to her own as quickly as she could, strapped a quiver to her back, and grabbed her bow.
A woman's scream pierced the silence from the other side of the camp. Leraen froze. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breaths became quick and shallow, and her heart began to beat so quickly that she was sure that the whole of Fereldan could hear it clearly. Was she too late? She nearly cried out at the thought of losing one more person who was dear to her.
Maker, have mercy!