A/N: The third story in my Price of a Song. Natalya and Nicholai have been on my mind a lot lately, after this I will go back to Herald of What for a while, not to mention another chapter of Stormbreaker, for now I did not want to leave Natalya on a cliffhanger. Here is the next chapter, the end of the beginning.

A Price of a Song: Survival

It was so quiet.

Natalya lay in a ditch next to the road that one led up to the Temple of Sacred ashes, she had fallen their after the shockwave that had shook the entire valley finally dissipated. She could not say how long she had lain there, have buried by debris and falling snow…

Time seemed to have no meaning anymore, it flowed slowly on, but to her…it had no meaning.

The very world seemed to have stopped.

She was alone…

…and…it was so quiet.

All around her lay the bodies of the dead, Templar, mage, and priest, all equal in death. There were so many, all cast down here, all smashed by the massive explosion that had washed down the mountain like an avalanche, their cloudy empty eyes turned up to the sky…staring at nothing.

Natalya did not even have the strength to shiver, she simply lay there, half buried in the snow, she could not move her left arm, and could distantly sense the many small cuts and scrapes stinging her damaged body. It was pain of sorts, but a distant pain, remote, fading into nothing…

Just like her apparently, slowly…she was fading into nothingness.

She stared up at the shattered sky, clouds swirled and thunder rumbled, every once and a while a pulse of yellow green light would flicker through those clouds, and with each flicker, more fire rained down from the sky.

A single tear ran down her bruised cheeks, it was not from the pain, that was too far away now to be anything but an annoyance, no what haunted her most now, was life…or rather…the life that she would never know.

Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood. Her mother reading reports while her small daughter played with her dolls by the fire. Her meeting the Bann for the first time, the hours of training and teaching, etiquette, manners, dancing, poison, and swordplay.

Natalya whimpered.

She remembered when the Bann came to her, telling her that her mother was dead. She had been so young then, nine…maybe ten. He had taken her into his arms then, soothing her, wiping away her tears. It was the only time in her life that her father had done that, when he…when he had finally acted like the father he should have been to her.

But even that act of kindness served its purpose, he had lost his agent when her mother died, in her, he had found another one, a better one.

Natalya was his blood.

He knew even then…

That she would never betray her own blood.

Then at thirteen she had attended her first salon, she had walked in on the arm of young Nicholai, still just an apprentice mage then, but an apprentice from a powerful family.

Unlike the children of the poor, mages from rich families had a somewhat better life.

Nicholai had made her laugh, he had treated her like a person, not simply a tool to be used and then discarded, but of course even that would not last. Nicholai visited less and less as the years went by, as the relationship between the chantry and mages degraded further, and she spent more and more of her own time doing what was needed to secure her father's wealth and position.

Nicholai, he…he had been her friend, treated her like a sister, a real sister, and she never thought twice when the Bann came to her with this mission, but then again, what could she do?

Nicholai needed to die.

It was the only way that she would be able to truly live.

She remembered one of her great aunt's soirees, she had been there…in Bann Pieter's stead, delivering messages and keeping an eye on his many business partners. The Bann had taken Stefan to Starkhaven, to speak with Prince Goran, and secure their newest trade agreement.

She…she had been very busy that night, but not so busy that she had not had time for herself.

…That…that had been the night.

The night she had first met Oliver, the night she learned what life could truly be, if only she had the courage to grab it.

Oliver, her sweet dear Oliver, had been taken with her the moment their eyes had met across a crowded room; he had been perfect, tall, lean, and handsome. His short dark hair, his beard, and dark brown eyes had pinned her in her place, in that moment she had sensed the truth, she had met more than simple noble, she had found someone not unlike herself, a beautiful predator, and she…was to be his prey.

He had frightened her, and excited her all at the same time.

They had talked to dawn that first night, a few weeks later she had journeyed with him to one of his family's estates near Wycome, it…it had been a time that she would never forget, could never forget.

The first time they had made love had been during that journey. They had been in the carriage, hidden behind the heavy curtains. Oliver fell on her like a wolf upon a sheep. His hunger unparalleled, his savagery undeniable, he had pulled up her dress and pulled down her smalls and had her.

She…she had not resisted; he had been so fierce, so savage. In that moment she saw the dragon hunter that was in the soul of all the Pentaghast.

He had been her warrior, her king.

In that moment, she realized that she would be his, his wife, and his queen.

Nothing would stand in their way.

She had gotten to work shortly after returning to Ostwick, removing those cousins most likely to cause trouble when King Markus died.

Oliver had been more than impressed, he had been enamored, but even that was not enough.

Despite his own desires, she could not be what he needed her to be, not without her father's recognition.

Without that, she was doomed to be a bastard…

…forever.

The very thought made her whimper.

It…it was not fair! It was not fair at all!

She had seen the explosion. Nicholai had to be dead; no one could have survived that blast. Maker knew. She likely wouldn't…

…she had accomplished her mission, Nicholai was dead, but it was unlikely that she would live much longer.

She thought of Oliver, what would he do when he learned of her death? Then she thought of her father, he would be saddened that she and Nicholai were both dead, but at the same time, he would likely be relieved as well.

If she died here, he would have no reason to worry about the backlash of claiming her as his child, never have to worry about what Stefan or Lady Tatiana would say about Nicholai's death.

He would grieve, but on some level, he would be relieved also…

A brief moment of anger flashed through her, she tried to struggle, tried to rise and prove him wrong!

All she could manage was a few twitches.

She whimpered again, but still she did not surrender.

She tried to cry out, but all that came from her throat was a whisper.

"Help."

She felt herself growing sleepy; soon it would be over, she knew, soon there would be nothing left to fight for.

No recognition.

No husband.

No crown.

No little princes and princesses in her future.

She would be gone…

…just…

…gone.

"Maker! It is the end of the world!"

"Stow that talk you!"

"But it is isn't it? Look at that sky, tell me this is not the end?"

"Just do your job!"

The voices drew closer, Natalya struggled to hear them, had…had she imagined them?

She did not think so.

"More over here, Jon, no down here you fool, let's check 'em and report back to the Seeker."

"But they're all dead!"

"We don't know that."

She heard the sound of armor and leather. She could smell sweat and fear. Shadows passed over her but she could not see who they were.

She tried to move again.

"Elric! Look! I…I think that one is moving!"

"Help," Natalya whispered.

A fierce looking man in dirty leathers appeared over her, his brown eyes deep with concern.

Miss? Miss, can you hear me?"

Natalya blinked and tried to move.

"Help," she whimpered weakly.

She felt strong arms wrap around her.

"Easy now," she heard Jon say.

"I got her," Elric cooed.

He smiled down at her.

"It will be alright, Miss. Try to hold on, we…we will get you to the healers, okay?"

Natalya nodded, or at least she tried to.

He plucked her from the snow like she weighed nothing. Natalya sighed as her head fell against his chest.

He was very careful as he carried her back up the hill, back up to the road. Natalya suspected this was all some fevered dream, one last desire to be rescued before she succumbed to her injuries…

As it turned out, she was wrong.

These men were truly here.

They were going to save her.

She…was going to live.

IOI

The men took her to what they called the forward camp. There had been few survivors here, only about seven men and women including herself. Several priests tended to the wounded why soldiers and scouts rushed around, trying to deal with the crisis that was now before them.

Natalya lay on a dirty blanket under a lean-to, there had been another survivor here when they had first brought her in, but he had apparently died, it was a miracle perhaps that she had not joined him. According to the priest, she had spent the last two days lying in that ditch. How she had not succumbed to either the elements or her injuries none could say.

The priests gave her broth and applied elf root poultices to her small cuts and scrapes. They had a mage or two here as well, offering healing magic to any who required it. It was one of these who repaired her broken arm, and the wound in her head. For the first time since the explosion her thoughts were clear, and she was able to take stock of just what had happened.

She restrained herself from draining the broth in a single gulp. She had no desire to lose it, not after being so near death, for now…she just needed to take it easy.

Rest.

Recover.

Survive.

Thunder rumbled overhead as another pulse of yellow green light flashed through the sky.

Natalya did not need to glance up to know what had caused it; she had seen it the first time they had brought her here.

Natalya frowned.

She had heard people calling it the breach. It was a massive rift into the fade, the realm of spirits and demons. The explosion at the Conclave had apparently caused it, now demons were flowing through it into the mortal world, and what was worse, smaller rifts were spreading in its waking, bringing even more demons here.

The very thought made her shudder.

Fire continued to rain down on Haven and the surrounding mountain peaks. Balls of fire destroyed trees and ravaged the tiny buildings. Demons slithered through the forest hunting survivors or anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.

She had managed to catch small snippets of conversations between those in charge here, not that there were many such people left, most of them had all been at the Conclave when…when it…

Another shiver ran down her spine.

They were dead.

They were all dead.

Divine Justinia, the leaders of the mages and Templars, they were all dead. Now those few priests and mothers here scrambled to find out exactly what happened…

…not to mention find out who to blame.

Natalya had heard many rumors over the last few hours. Some say that this was the Maker's divine punishment that he had finally grown tired of the race of men, and had decided to let the demons of the fade destroy them. Another rumor said that Anders, the mad mage who had blown up the chantry in Kirkwall was behind this attack. That he had somehow survived Kirkwall, and was taking steps to continue the war between the mages and Templars. She…she had even heard rumors of a survivor, that someone had literally walked out of the fade after the explosion, returning from the dead, but that seemed as improbable as any of the other tales she had heard.

Natalya finished her broth with a sigh, and lay back down.

Whatever had happened, one thing was certain, the people who had been attendance at the Conclave were dead.

A hint of a smile teased at her lips.

Nicholai had been at the Conclave.

Nicholai Trevelyan was dead.

The though did not please her, she had not looked forward to doing the deed herself, but, if the explosion had done it for her, well…

She was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Nicholai, her brother was dead.

Her mission here was now complete.

Again the sky rumbled, but this time she paid it no mind.

As soon as she was strong enough, she would make her way out of Haven. She would need to be careful, rumors of mage-Templar fighting around the mountains had grown as news of the Divine's death spread.

Still, with the mage leadership decimated, and the Templars left directionless it was possible that she would be able to slip through, make her way to Amaranthine, and from there catch a ship back to Ostwick.

She was already mentally composing the report she would give to the Bann.

It was horrible, Milord, just horrible. I…I poor Nicholai, he…he did not even stand a chance.

If Lady Tatiana asked what she had been doing here, she would simply say she had been representing the interests of their family, which was true. Stefan might cry foul play, but in this case, there had been nothing of the sort.

The Conclave explosion had killed Nicholai, not her.

A single joyous tear ran down her cheeks.

She was grateful that she did not have to do the deed herself.

Her hands, in this anyway, were clean.

Still, she would not let her father forget his promise, Nicholai was dead, just as he had requested, now he would pay her what was owed. After that she would leave Ostwick for Nevarra, her and her darling Oliver…

Oh the intrigues that awaited them in King Markus' court. Intrigues that would lead them to throne itself, once King Markus was finally out of the way.

She almost giggled.

Was the world ending, she did not think so. She had faith in the chantry. They would sort this mess out, and once the mages were brought to heel, they would aid Thedas in sealing this breach. Of course by then, she intended to be very, very far away. She would be living in Nevarra with her new husband, maybe even with child by that point.

The thought of having children filled her with delight. She had always wanted a family of her own, little boys and little girls both. Children who would love her, and never know what she had gone through to give them a better life.

She wondered what she would have first, boy or girl?

If it was a boy, she would name it Nicholai, after all…

If it was not for her dear brother, she would never have gotten this far, never. She…

A loud crash woke her from her honeyed daydreams.

Panicked cries rang out through the forward camp, warriors and scouts rushed back and forth…

A fade rift had opened right in front of the main gate.

Demons were assaulting the forward camp.

Natalya tried to rise, to escape, but discovered that she could not; she was still too weak from her ordeal.

A terrifying thought struck her.

What if the demons got in?!

How would she defend herself?

She almost cried out in fury!

No! The Maker was not that cruel! She had survived the explosion, lived long enough to be rescued.

This could not be her end, not when she was so close to having everything she wanted!

No!

The Maker was not that cruel!

More shouts rang out, orders to cover Lady Pentaghast.

Natalya was surprised to hear that name.

A Pentaghast? Here? How could…?

She heard the squeals of demons, the clash of steel and the crackle of magic, that and a sound she did not recognize, a loud popping sound…

…After that…silence.

"The Danger has passed, open the gates!"

Again Natalya blinked.

Had all the demons been killed?

What about the rift they sprang from, there was no way to close the rifts; everything she had heard up to this point seemed to suggest that, she…

"You have done enough already!"

"We are not to blame Chancellor!"

"We must call a retreat!"

"You are not in charge here."

This man should be restrained, taken to the capital!"

"He can help us Chancellor."

Natalya struggled to sit up; she almost dragged herself to mouth of the lean to. Her curiosity was peaked.

She had to see who was arguing.

Had the chantry found someone who could seal the rifts?

Such a man would be extremely valuable in these troubled times.

She…she needed to see him, his face.

It would be good for her report.

She managed to do it; she fought against fatigue and dragged herself out.

Her eyes widened with shock.

It was an odd group, a man in robes of the chantry, a sister in habit with a long armored gambeson. A beardless dwarf with a duster coat, a bald elf, and woman in Seeker armor, and…and…

"No," she murmured.

She saw the man who had sealed the rift; he wore dirty armor, the kind a common mercenary might wear. It fit him poorly making her think it had not been his originally. He gripped a staff in his left hand. He…

"No," she whimpered.

He had the look of a man who had been imprisoned, his face was dirty, and he stank of dungeons, his dark blond hair was matted with grime and dried sweat. His chin was covered with the scruffy growth of a three day old beard.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

"No," she almost sobbed.

But the worst were the eyes, they held a fierceness she did not recognize, but given the hardships of the last year, anyone would be hardened, even him. He…he…

Natalya's dreams dashed, her heart plummeted into her stomach.

The world spun crazily.

"No, it…it can't be…it…it is not fair, not…fai…"

Natalya's eyes rolled back she slumped against the cold hard stone.

She would wake a few hours later, but by then it was all over.

The breach was stabilized.

Haven was saved. And Thedas…had a new hero.

His name was Nicholai Trevelyan, mage of the Circle of Ostwick.

When she awoke, she sobbed, the sister tending her thought it was with fear, but it wasn't…

It was with frustration, anger…

FURY!

Nicholai Trevelyan was alive!

Natalya Song, otherwise known as Natalya Trevelyan, bastard daughter of Bann Pieter Trevelyan of Ostwick…

Had failed.

In that moment, she came to accept one sad fact.

The Maker was that cruel.

It wasn't right.

It wasn't fair, but that was the way it was.

Her dreams were gone.

All she had left now was one thing and one thing only…

Survival.

She would not let it go.

She would endure.

She would survive, and then…she would find a way out of this.

There had to be a way out of this.

There had to be!

NOT the End!

A/N: Price of a Song will be back, so what did you all think? Feel free to write a review, you know I love them.

DG