Author's Note: I've been trying to post once a week. I'm a day late, but it's Thanksgiving here so for a holiday, I think I'm doing okay :) Anyhow, hope you enjoy…I know I've had mornings like this a time or two…

~We All Fall Down~

The best bright mornings begin with the curtains drawn. Drea was not to have a good morning.

The freshly risen sun shone brightly down on the world below and directly into the room where Drea slept. As it fell on her face, it slowly roused her into consciousness. She desperately wanted to ignore it, but the sun rays were far too insistent and she needed to grab something to cover her face. By the time she woke enough to move, she could feel her body lurching, although she was sure she was still. Cracking open one eye confirmed she was indeed not moving, but even so, the room was spinning. With a resigned groan, she opened both bleary eyes and attempted to sit up.

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice commented from nearby. Drea wasn't able to focus her eyes just yet, but recognized the voice as her brother's.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she reached up to rub her eyes only to have a shoulder pad awkwardly slip off from around her wrist. It hit the floor with a clatter that painfully drilled into Drea's head. Frowning, she muttered, "What in the Maker's name…" Looking down at herself she realized most of her armour was half stripped and hanging loosely. It was a mess.

She looked over and saw Fergus' feet. Tracing up from his feet to his face, she realized he was sitting on the bed, smiling patiently at her. Looking back down to where she had been lying, she also realized she was on the ground. "You let me sleep on the floor," she moaned.

With a chuckle he replied, "You're lucky I didn't dump you in the swine pen Dre! For once, Arkon smelled better than you…by quite a lot." From the corner, Arkon perked his ears upon hearing his name, but remained quiet.

Rubbing her face with her hands, Drea grimaced at his words, "Did I make an ass of myself?"

"No, not at all. Well, in public at least," he assured her. "A while after we spoke the first time, you made an appearance to the masses outside the palace, to the great excitement of the commoners. You delivered quite a rousing speech in fact, doing the Cousland name proud. And then you took part in the festivities, giving your attention to any of the nobles who requested it. I had you out of the hall well before you had a chance to make an ass of yourself, don't worry."

As he spoke of the evening, the memories slowly came back. She did speak to those waiting outside the hall. With the mass of people, she doubted they could even hear what she had to say, but nonetheless, they cheered and threw ribbons when she finished. The rest was a blur - one standard polite exchange blended with the next as the nobles vied for the honour of speaking with the hero. She vaguely remembered Fergus leading her away and willingly going with him, but it became too fuzzy after that. Of course, she also remembered speaking with Leliana and it felt like a sharply twisting knife in her chest. "Thank you," she finally mumbled.

"That's what family does," he replied, "we look out for one another."

Slowly, she started peeling off what armour she could without having to stand. The cotton tunic she wore under the leather stunk as bad as everything else. It was the saddest state she could recall her armour ever being in. Without looking up at him she asked, "But how did you know to look out for me? I mean I didn't drink much before, so what made you think to watch me?"

"Because you're a hero," he simply stated. This did draw her attention and she gave him a questioning glance before continuing to struggle with her straps. Shifting on the bed slightly, Fergus leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His humour was quickly stripped away as he sighed. "Drea, Father never had a chance to tell you this but the truth is a hero has one of two fates. Either he dies gloriously in battle, forever securing his title of hero…"

He paused and she finally stopped clumsily fussing with her armour. Gently rubbing her temple, trying to subside her throbbing head she asked, "Or?"

"Or…the hero falls," he finished. Drea frowned, but Fergus nodded. "It's true. Loghain serves as the most recent example. His final actions do not erase the fact that the Hero of River Dane was instrumental in freeing our entire nation after many years of foreign occupation. And his fall was no less spectacular. But this cycle has occurred many times before. Often, however, the falls of the great have been of a less public nature and thus they've been spared having their shame recorded in the history books."

"Loghain went mad with power," she argued, annoyed by his statement of compassion.

Not wanting to argue about Loghian specifically, Fergus made his reasoning more general, "The bigger the hero, the bigger the pressure, the bigger the fall." Drea couldn't argue, but pursed her lips together in doubt. Pushing on, Fergus added, "It's not just heroes - people of importance often succumb to their pressures. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to find a Bann, for example, who is sober more often than not. And it's usually not an abuse of his resources, but just the only way he can cope with the pressures from day to day."

"Mother and Father…?" she asked hesitantly.

"Had their vices," he supplied but did not elaborate. She did not ask, knowing she would not be able to handle hearing more right now. Finally, Fergus slid off the bed and shuffled over to Drea on his knees. Reaching out, he rested his hands over hers and added, "But I would like to offer you something most heroes never get."

Drea remained silent for a moment, slow to absorb everything. After looking at his hand closed over hers, she finally asked, "And what is that?"

Offering her a small, lopsided smile he answered, "A place to fall." Still hardly awake yet, Drea felt a rush of emotion that was difficult to control. He patted her hands lovingly as he added, "I want you to come home with me. You can let the pressures go for a while - fall and let me catch you. You can be blind, stinking drunk for weeks at a time and just let it all go."

Somewhere between a laugh and a cry, Drea hiccupped and covered her mouth with her hand. How did he always know? Each moment in the past year was another step in the road leading to killing the archdemon. Even when it seemed that she had to make difficult choices, there truly was no choice - it was just the next step in the obvious path laid out before her. She expected that victory to be the single greatest moment in her life, finally leaving her fulfilled - her purpose served. Instead, it signified the end to any clarity and direction she once had. Her purpose was gone, her direction unclear, her companions dispersed, and she slowly began to realize she was left empty. Worse yet, she was left with no distractions from all her losses- and they threatened to overwhelm her. Leaving her fingers pressed to her lips, she gratefully stared at her brother. "I'm so tired," she finally admitted. Crossing her legs she looked down at the floor and closed her eyes. "Exhausted," she clarified quietly. These words did not come close to expressing how she felt, but it was all she could muster to say.

Again, Fergus shuffled until he sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for an awkward hug. "I know," he replied. Finally she rested her head against his chest. The alcohol still clouded her mind but for a moment, she just took comfort in the rise and fall of his chest. When he spoke again, she felt the rumble, "Besides I would really like your help in restoring the castle. Even stumbling drunk, you'll be more help than most of the servants I have now. And then, when you're ready to rejoin the world, it will be where you dry yourself out."

Pulling away and sitting up, a weary, but wry smile grew on her lips, "I don't know Fergus. For the last several months, Oghren's been my drinking partner. Are you sure there would be enough alcohol to keep me drunk for weeks at a time?"

During the festival, Fergus had been entertained by just how much ale the dwarf had been able to pack away. He would suffer from alcohol poisoning if he had tried to keep up! Laughing, Fergus nodded, "It will be my personal mission to make sure there is enough to supply you proper."

Drea laughed with him, stopping short when that set her head to throbbing even harder. She pressed against her temple again before looking over at her brother. "Thank you."

Fergus was getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his pants. "But, if you want to travel with us, I am leaving soon…preferably within the hour but realistically within the next two. I have to go gather the new servants I hired, but it doesn't give you much time to clean up."

Not yet attempting to get up, Drea slowly nodded. "It doesn't give me much time for goodbyes," she commented.

Fergus' face turned serious as he replied thoughtfully, "I believe that is what last night was for. I don't see why a messenger delivered missive would not suffice. Of course if you do want to say goodbye I…"

Drea cut in, "No. I…don't think I can." He was right, last night was the time for goodbyes, and she had already said all she needed to. She wasn't sure her heart could handle seeing Leliana again, and the more her morning fog broke, the more anxious she grew to leave.

Leaning down to rest his hand on her shoulder, Fergus gave a gentle squeeze, "I know that it's not easy to lose a loved one, no matter the reason. I think a note might be better for both of you - he is hurting too."

A quick look of confusion crossed her face. He? "Alistair," she quickly agreed, realizing Fergus's mistake. Best to let him think that. She nodded. "Yes. Well, I had better start getting ready."

Fergus did not push, and shortly left the room. Pulling herself to her feet, she stumbled over to the basin. It was filled with water, no doubt Fergus' handiwork. Looking into her reflection in the water basin, she saw how ghastly of a sight she truly was. Her eyes were swollen, apparently she had cried hard during the night. As more proof, there were traces of black running down her cheek - the remains of the makeup her handmaidens insisted on painting her with. Inwardly groaning at what a wreck she was, she cupped water in her hands and splashed it over her face. The cool water forced her into reality, pushing the haziness aside.

After cleaning herself up enough, she managed to find an attendant to clean her armour for her and find her a change of clothes. Surprisingly, it did not take too long for her to look presentable- a quick wash, a brush through her hair, and a fresh set of clothes. Soon she was sitting at the desk, writing out the notes to be delivered.

Settling onto the chair, she wrote a fairly lengthy note to Alistair outlining her plans to restore Highever with her brother. She promised to send word in the months ahead when she was ready to travel east to the Vigil's Keep in Arling of Amaranthine so any final preparations for her could be made. A similar note was written for the seneschal at the Keep so he would be able to prepare for her eventual arrival.

Finally, it came time for her last letter. For a long time, she simply stared at the blank piece of paper on the desk, lost in thought. She was plagued with dozens of things running through her mind, and yet was completely reluctant to write anything at all. What was left to say? What could she say that wouldn't come out twisted and bitter? In the end, the note that took her the longest to complete was the shortest note of all with only one word scrawled on it…

Goodbye.

Fergus arranged the deliveries with a castle messenger. It was not long until the young lad was knocking on Leliana's door. Tightening the draw on her robe, she greeted he boy who quickly handed her the piece of paper. She opened it and stared hard. Goodbye. Although it did not even say who it was from, she knew. She just knew.

Suddenly, she pushed past the young boy and dashed down the hall. He sprang back to dodge her and crashed soundly into the wall behind him. She would have felt awful, but she was already several strides down the hall. Her mind was racing…could it be true, did Drea really leave without warning? During the remainder of the celebration, their exchange had dominated her mind - she couldn't let it go. Finally, after a few glasses of wine, she decided she couldn't let it end that way. It was impossible to get next to Drea, but she intended to steal her away if not for the rest of the night, then for a moment. But she was gone, Drea suddenly disappeared. And now? Now she wasn't even going to get a goodbye?

Her bare feet hit the stone floor hard as she tore through the estate towards the front gates. To her horror, when she arrived she could see the travel party in the distance. They were too far away for her to catch. They were too far away to hear her. They were gone.

Alistair saw Leliana as he watched from one of the many windows of the castle. Fergus had spoken to him during the festivities about his plan to convince Drea to return to Highever with him. Despite Alistair's best efforts, he couldn't seem to help himself; he had to watch them leave. He was stunned, however, to see her best friend being left behind like this. His surprise quickly turned to anger when he saw the despair radiate Leliana as she watched the group disappear in the distance. The trail of pain Drea left in her wake disgusted him. Did the great hero care about nothing anymore? How could she just leave her best friend like that? A long sigh escaped his lips and he turned from the window, deciding to go down and meet Leliana at the gate – she would need a friend.

"Drea," Leliana whispered as clutched the note to her chest, fighting the urge to tear it to shreds. Angry tears sprang to her eyes and she opened the piece of paper again. Goodbye. There it was…her goodbye.