Author's note: Lots of angst and brooding and wailing. Some mild cursing and some disturbing subjects, but no less disturbing than what you find in the game.

At first the massive door set into the crumbling wall seemed like any other ruin that dotted the landscape. Yet, Marlana found herself reluctant to enter, but not out of fear. Or rather she wasn't afraid of what she would find in there, she was afraid of desecrating something holy. Beside and behind her the others are just as silent, studying the place in their own way. Wynne seems content to make mental notes of the place while Leliana is probably composing another song. Even Alistair seems subdued. She cast a worried eye on her lover who is frowning at the door thoughtfully, but showing no signs of distress from his wounds.

Fighting a high dragon may sound glorious in ballads, but in reality it's ugly, disgusting work. As usual Alistair had taken the brunt of the beast's wrath as the others did what they could to bring it down quickly. Once Leliana's arrows had shredded the dragon's wings enough to ground it, but that made it no less dangerous since it still had used of its fangs, claws and tail. Not to mention its fire. No one was going to forget that little experience of being roasted by dragonbreath. Marlana had finally managed to finish the creature by running up its back and sinking her blades into its eyes. She'd had a really bad moment of flying in midair when it managed to toss its head and the slim woman into the air. Fortunately she managed to land back on the head, close enough to grab the hilts of her swords then shoving the blades into the brain of the thing.

She shook herself out of her reverie, procrastinating wasn't going to get them to the Urn. Despite insane villagers, cultists and dragons (Between the dragonlings in the Tower and the monsters in the caverns, she'd had her fill of dragons. Except there still was that overgrown, Tainted one flying around that they had to deal with yet. And won't that be fun?) they had made their way here. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a puff of steam in the cold mountain air, she spoke as she reached out to the door with her gloved right hand, "Right, let's do this."

The door opened slowly in a silent welcome before she could even touch it. Refusing to let herself feel unnerved, the Warden strode into an ancient hall lit by torches that had no fuel for their flames. While the hall had clearly seen better days there was still an air of majesty to it. At the end stood a figure in plain heavy chain made of silverite, at its back rose the well worn hilt of a massive two handed weapon. As she approached, she could see that it was a man with a careworn face whose eyes had seen all too much of the world, yet seemed apart from it.

"Welcome pilgrim, I am the Guardian of the Urn of Sacred Ashes", his deep voice sounded as if it came from something other than a human mouth and resonated with power. Hoping not to fight this man, if man he truly was, she bowed slightly to him and greeted him pleasantly. At first she was surprised that he was willing to speak with them and answer their questions. As the conversation progressed, Lana realized he must have been horribly alone all these long centuries.

The Guardian regarded the little group before him thoughtfully, "Before you are allowed to proceed, you must prove yourself worthy."

She nodded, "And how must I do that?"

"You must go through the Gauntlet; the tests there shall prove your worthiness."

"Very well, let it begin", she mentally braced herself, she had no desire to battle anything in this place, but if she had to, she would. Marlana had set herself on this course of action and continue until she was successful or she finally found her end.

The Guardian nodded, "Before you go, there is a thing I must ask. I see that your path here was not easy, full of suffering, both yours and others."

Dread filled her as those ancient eyes regarded her heart and soul and knew she was already deemed not worthy. Unable to speak, she waited.

He continued relentless, "You abandoned your parents, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing there would be no mercy for them. Do you think you failed your parents?"

Grief crushed her once again as she remembered that terrible night. Seeing her father in the pool of his own blood, her mother cradling him to her breast swearing to remain with him until the end… The feel of Duncan's hand on her shoulder as he dragged her away from them to a fate she didn't want.

Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed with defeat as she whispered, "Not think, I know. I should have defended them to the end."

As the others started to protest, she raised her hand asking for their silence.

Calmly the Guardian spoke again, "Thank you. That is all I wished to know."

He turned that unnerving gaze on the others with Alistair to be the next victim after her. Before the ancient being that was once a man said anything, her protective instincts pulled her out of her anguished grief. "NO! No, you will not do this to them. They follow my lead, if someone is to pay the price, I will. Not them."

Silence reigned in that place as she stared the Guardian in his too knowing eyes, willing to have her scars ripped open again, but she would not stand there and let him shred those she cared about. Bad enough she had damned Alistair by telling him that she loved him the first night they were together and every night after. Bad enough she had damned Wynne by accepting the healer's offer of aid. Bad enough she had damned Leliana by dragging her out of the Chantry. But she would not let this happen.

If he could read her mind, the Guardian gave no sign; he simply nodded and stepped to the side. The door behind him opened, "You may proceed."

Not wanting to talk about how her soul had been exposed to her companions, silently she was grateful that it was just these three who were present. Eventually she would have to talk to them about what was said, but not now, not when those emotional wounds were just reopened with callous disregard. With her heart heavy she proceeded to deal with more spirits.

Spirits with riddles that spoke of hope and despair, dreams and songs of home, of vengeance and mercy, love and jealousy, life and death, what hunger could do… Oh they may have been talking about Andraste, but didn't they also speak of her own hopes and fears? The questions had been simple enough for the group to answer, but the simplicity had been deceiving.

Feeling even more unsettled she started to go through the next door that had opened on its own leading to another part of the hall. Another figure stood at the end of the short hall with his back to them, but she knew the form all too well. Hadn't she seen him stand like that so many times when lecturing Fergus and her on their duties? When he addressed his men for whatever task he was going to set them? She thought her heart had shattered when she told Alistair she loved him.

But no, it hadn't. Now it did, and not just her heart, her whole being. She'd seen a crystal chalice dropped on a stone floor once, it had shattered into so many small, twinkling little pieces, most of it almost dust. She knew what it was like then for that chalice as it felt like she was shattering into dust. Yet somehow she still lived for all that her chest ached so much and the blood was draining from her head.

They'd never seen her falter before, never saw that iron will waiver, never thought this formidable young woman could ever be truly stopped. But she had stopped and they saw her resolve die. Alistair started to reach out for her out of concern when she ran towards the new spirit.

She stopped just shy as the man turned around, before she said anything, Alistair knew who it was and cursed those that created this place with a hate that only matched what he felt for Loghain and for a brief moment eclipsed even that. To see all color drained from her skin, the complete and utter despair made him hate. Then he heard her anguished whisper confirming his thoughts.

"Father?"

But even he could see the pride and love in the eyes of a man he'd never known in life, the sorrow and pain of what his daughter had gone through, what still lay before her. And that hate drained away.

She couldn't register what her father said; the blood was pounding too much in her ears as she looked into that beloved face for some sign of forgiveness. But there wasn't, there was a cold sternness she'd never had directed at her, no matter how badly she'd acted when a child. And such terrible disappointment. Numbly she accepted the locket he handed to her. Hesitantly she looked up into the blue eyes that had once been so like her own, but now nothing alike. She mustered her ragged courage to ask one last question, "Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, pup."

The sorrow in his voice and the obvious love there made her companions wonder why she flinched as if he'd struck her instead. Then he was gone. She stood there head bowed for a moment, too empty, too numb, to allow herself tears. She didn't deserve the release, so she finally got the answer to her whispered prayer uttered in the Wilds. There could never be forgiveness.

Marlana straightened and squared her shoulders not looking back, not seeing the concern in the eyes of Leliana and Wynne, the grief Alistair had for her. In a voice colder than the mountain winds outside, "Let's go, we aren't done yet."

In the next chamber where they fought spectral images of themselves, she fought her own image with a terrible savagery full of hate. She almost couldn't help with the images of the mage and bard, but she managed. Then there was only Alistair's left. She couldn't fight it, could barely defend herself against it, almost willing to have it strike her down. Afterwards they tried talking to her, but she wouldn't answer, couldn't let herself to respond to their worry or Alistair's attempt to wrap her up in a hug. She didn't deserve it, especially him. (There's nothing to forgive.)

The next chamber held no battle, but a gaping chasm surrounded by odd stones. Alistair studied one and stepped on it, making some silly comment about "thingies". Once she would've laughed at his comment, and smiled at Leliana's exasperation to him stepping on the "thingy". But there was no more laughter, only broken crystalline dust dulling into ash. It took awhile, yet they eventually figured out the trick of making a solid bridge.

A test of faith. Not willing to let the others to risk themselves still, she was the one who braved that insubstantial bridge. She had all the faith in the world in her friends, her once lover, but none in herself. She wasn't going to risk them, wasn't going to fail them. Then there's a solid bridge as she passes over the last piece and watches with deadened eyes as they cross one by one. Then they came to their final challenge, passing through a wall of flame.

There's some murmured comments about how much of their clothing and armor they need to strip off. As they debate, she stripped down to nothing, all three having seen her in that state for one reason or another then walking into the fire. She hoped for pain, for the sizzle of cooking flesh, to be found unworthy and struck down for her impertinence.

Instead the Guardian appeared and pronounced her worthy of the Ashes.

Worthy? How could she be worthy of such a sacred relic? She wasn't worthy of her father's forgiveness, yet the Maker would let her defile the mortal remains of his Beloved? But this quest is for another person after all, one who is better than she is. Mechanically she redressed and slowly went up the steps to the Urn. It was deceptively simple, a large stone urn with stylized depictions of flames. Still expecting to be struck down, she removed her gloves, shoved them into her belt and reverently lifted the top then delicately set it to the side. Her hands shaking, she carefully reached in to take the small pinch that she'd been deemed worthy to receive and placed them into the vial she'd had cleansed and blessed in the Denerim Chantry so long ago. The vial went into a padded pouch that in turn was carefully tucked away.

Listlessly she made her way back to the temple they'd left Brother Genitivi, the scholar they'd spent so much time trying to find. By some miracle he'd been left alive by the insane cultists that made Haven their home, when so many others had perished at their hands. He was still at the front of the ruined temple where they'd left him the day before. The man was clearly enraptured by what he'd seen thus far, even more so when shown the vial containing the Ashes. She leaves a bulk of the conversation to the others, not having the energy for such things.

She doesn't remember the return trip to camp. Doesn't pay attention to the sharp voices of her companions as they argue about something, there's not enough left to care anymore. She does her share of the camp duties more out of habit than anything else. She spends the cold night out on her bedroll alone rather than curse Alistair anymore than she already has. Not even Morrigan's sharp tongue can get through her apathy the next morning, unaware that even the witch had been moved by the agony in the eyes of Morrigan's nemesis.

The morning they prepare to return to Redcliffe dawns clear, bright and cold. She has to be reminded to wear cloak and gloves before getting on her horse. She didn't pay attention to Oogie's repeated attempts for attention, or the disgusting thing he tries to give her as a gift. Worried he turns to his human's mate who is clearly hurt and angry, but doesn't have any answers for the upset hound.

Better this way, she thinks as she feels them withdrawing from her out of disgust. Now I can't fail them the way I failed everyone else I loved.

Finally they're at Redcliffe. Teagan takes one look at the dull eyed woman who had once been such a vibrant force that saved his brother's people and drags Alistair off as Isolde oversees the preparations for her husband's healing.

"What's happened to her?"

The templar shakes his dark golden head, "I really don't know, my lord. Marlana's been like that since…since we were faced by her father's spirit. I don't know why, he clearly loved her, but she's acting like he thought she was the scum of the earth."

The lord's expression is grave, "She paid a high price then."

Restless and sick with worry, Alistair starts pacing, "I think we were all supposed to share that price, but she wouldn't let us. And the guardians of the place let her."

Before they could talk any further, they're called in for the miracle that had been so hard won.

After Eamon has reassured himself that his wife and son are alive and well, the questions begin. Marlana managed to rouse herself enough to contribute to the conversation, but it's clear even to the man who didn't know her that there was something wrong with the Grey Warden that had shouldered so much of the burden. He dismissed the group wanting some time to be with his family and to think over everything he'd been told. Not just the Blight, but the treachery on the part of Loghain and Howe. The death of his nephew and king.

They're given guest rooms and once she would've been pleased to be roomed right next to Alistair, but now she sees it as one more burden, since he still wouldn't pull away no matter how hard she tried to push him away. When she comes out of her room dressed in the shirt and trousers that normally distress Leliana so much, she's as grateful as she can be that Alistair is off somewhere else. For that matter, she's glad that the rest of her companions had wandered off elsewhere, including Oogie who had gone off somewhere on his own unknowable canine purpose.

She wandered the halls aimlessly until she came out to the parapets, there was a guard nearby, but he ignored her as she settled down to regard the sun as it set in all of its bloody glory. Lost in pain filled memories she grows used to the sound of the rattle of the guard's armor as he makes his patrol. Then there's the low sound of voices and a different footstep taking the guard's place. Figuring that it was just another guard, she doesn't expect to be grabbed from behind.

Unarmed and unarmored, she still reacts instinctively to fight back, but stops when she sees who she's about to hit. His handsome face grimmer than she's seen before and his eyes dark with something that can't be called fury, Alistair glares down at her, "Maker knows I've been patient. But. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

She whispers, "You were there, you heard what F-f-father said."

"He said…" He stopped and felt sick, "Lana, he said there was nothing to forgive. But he meant it, he wasn't mad at you. I didn't know him and I could see how much he loved you."

Lana stared up at him not understanding what he said. Or rather not wanting to. There can never be forgiveness, how can there be? Father, mother, Oriana, Oren, Gwen, Fergus, all dead, dead because I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, smart enough.

She thought she said that in her head, but the way his gaze sharpened at her, she realized she'd actually said that out aloud. He was quiet for a moment, "I think it's time we finally talked about you. You've been my anchor and my shelter when I needed it, now let me be yours."

Despite herself, she started shaking, "No, Alistair, go, please. It's better that…just go."

"Only if you can look me into the eyes and tell me that you don't love me."

Now the tears come despite her resolve. She looks away and rasps, "I can't, because that would be a lie. But Alistair I don't have the strength, not anymore if I ever had it."

"The strength for what?" He still wouldn't let her go, knew if he did the woman he'd fallen for would be gone.

She licked lips gone suddenly, horribly dry, "To survive failing you like I failed everyone else."

"Failed… Maker's Breath! Marlana Cousland look at me."

It took what little was left of her to listen to his command. She was so tired, why wouldn't he just let her go? There was enough left to see to her duty as a Warden to end the Blight, why did he think there was anything else? She'd fooled herself, and him, but in that temple she'd realized that it wasn't her loved ones that would be her doom. She really was the curse of those she loved. The intense glare he gave her made her shrink in on herself and he tried desperately not to squeeze her tighter. This broken person wasn't the Marlana he knew. And he would fight to bring her back. Even if it meant fighting her.

"You didn't fail them; your family was betrayed by a man they trusted. Duncan wouldn't have recruited you if you were the type to fail those who depend on you. And we're taking this conversation somewhere else."

He scooped her up, and then hauled her back down to the guest quarters, not caring who saw one Warden manhandling the other. For a brief moment he thought he was going to drop her when he had to juggle semi-resisting female and the door to her room, but he managed to open the door and not drop her. He sat down at one of the large chairs at the fireplace still holding her, but at that point she'd given up the fight as a lost cause.

"Talk to me, love. Please."

Dammit, she managed to stop the tears during that humiliating trip back to her room. But they started up again, this time even worse and this time she can't stop them. Slowly, haltingly, she started with that one horrible night of blood and fire. Finding her sister by marriage and her nephew butchered in the rooms that were only across the hall from her bedroom. She should've been able to hear their screams or the door being broken down.

That her mother chose to die with her father rather than live with her, Duncan having to forcibly pull her away from her parents. The mad flight from what was no longer her home.

Her breath hitched tight in her chest as she tried to describe their flight from the castle.

"We-we stopped at Faolain Keep, the family of my best friend Gwendolyn. Sh-she'd only been married for a couple of years and was expecting her first. I-I found her. She was barely alive," the tears came down harder, the little she could see of the world blurred even more, but she felt him hold her tighter. "They, they, they," She shook her head again at the remembered horror, "They'd ripped her child from her, but she was still alive. And she begged me for mercy."

She couldn't tell him how she held her dying heart-sister's broken body in her arms as the life bled out of the other young woman. But the memory broke open the last of her pain causing her to finally bury her face into his broad chest and weep out all of the agony that had been building all this time. Alistair held her close as he rocked her, silently offering her his strength the way Lana had been for him during his moments of grief over the loss of Duncan and the other Wardens.

When the tears finally dried up and she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes he could see the glimmers of the woman he knew and loved and had an idea he hoped would help bring her back. If not, it should be entertaining to see people come running to see what was going on.

"Will you let me prove something to you?"

Confused, she nodded, starting to feel enough of herself to wonder what he was up to. The hint of curiosity heartened him and he eased her off his lap and into the opposite seat. "Stay right there until I tell you otherwise."

Baffled she watched him leave her room making sure the door was fully closed, then didn't hear anything except a couple of faint thuds and something fainter, but indistinct, from his room. Then he came back into her room slightly flushed and out of breath, "So, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Well, you can agree that I can scream pretty loudly if I want to."

She stared him, "Yessss, yes you can."

"Lana, I just screamed as loudly as I could and threw a chair. Did you hear anything?'

She stared at him still, more than slightly appalled, "You didn't."

He gave her that boyish grin of Alistair at his worst as his only answer.

"I heard some muffled thuds; it sounded like you dropped something."

"Would you say that our rooms are closer than your room was to your brother's rooms in your family's home?"

Realizing what he was trying to prove, she finally found a weak laugh, granted it was more than a bit water, but she laughed and smiled a little up at him, "I love you, you big goof."

His grin only got wider as he crossed the room and wrapped her up in his arms, but his voice was serious. "I love you too. Don't bottle things up, if you talk to me, we can always figure things out. For a smart woman, you sure can not think very sometimes." He wasn't going to call her stupid, not now, not when she was still hurting.

"Now then, let's get you cleaned up and go eat. I'm starving and you probably even more so."

"Is that all you can think of? Your stomach?"

"Weellll, there is something else, but that can wait for later."

She shook her head, but she was smiling when she did it. Knowing she'd still be haunted by her losses, he'd be there for her, but he could see his Marlana coming back to him and at that moment he decided he did some good work.