This chapter is unlike any I've done before, it describes a scene that is both heart breaking and unfair. Fair warning, if you are sensitive to the subject of infant death you may want to skip this chapter.

Alistair's heart was in his throat listening to the screaming coming from the other side of the door he was staring at. It had been two days and each minute felt like a lifetime to him, powerless to stop the physical pain his wife was in. Wringing his hands, he glanced back at his brother and sighed.

"Alistair," Cailan said as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on, "are you going to be alright?" Alistair shook his head.

"No," he said, running his hands through his hair. "Maker, why is this one taking so much longer than the first?" Cailan smiled to hide the concern pooling in his gut and patted his brother on the back.

"She's always been one to do things the hard way," he whispered, as if she might over hear him. Alistair shook his head, not in the mood for any jokes and Cailan regretted his words. "She'll pull through, she is strong."

"The first birth was hard enough on her, she was bed-ridden for months!" Alistair was getting more frustrated, the time elapsing only strengthening his fear. "Argh, I'm useless!" he growled as he searched for something to hit.

The blight that ran through Alistair's veins made children more difficult but not impossible, Duncan was proof of that. However there was something in the birthing process that took its toll on Kora. As if bearing a child wasn't hard enough, the delivery put an unusual strain on her heart, weakening it to the point that it almost stopped.

When they found out she was pregnant again Wynne insisted on taking preventive measures, specific herbs that would strengthen her heart and stamina, making the arrival of their latest addition easier for her without harming the baby. Alistair was becoming less assured as time went on.

"You are not useless," Cailan said, grabbing Alistair's shoulder and squeezing. "But I doubt I would believe me in your shoes." The brothers looked at the door again, realizing the screaming had stopped. They held their breath, waiting for the telltale cry, signaling the emergence of a new life into their world.

But no cry came.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Kora wailed from the small room. Instinctively Alistair burst through the door, practically knocking it off the hinges. The need to protect his wife and child had taken over and her cry told him, with no uncertainty, that something was terribly wrong.

Kora sat upright in the bed, cradled by a mound of pillows. Her face was contorted in pain, hair plastered to it as tears mingled with sweat. Her chest heaved, sobs racking through her as the reality of the situation crept in. Her eyes shot to Alistair's and locked, conveying everything he needed to know in a single moment.

Their child was not breathing.

A fear he had never known engulfed his heart and paralyzed him, his eyes the only things able to move as they scanned the room. Focusing on the opposite wall, he saw Wynne and her assistant leaning over a small table, concentrating on the tiny, pale body that lay there. Alistair watched as they moved their glowing hands up and down over the infant. A few minutes later Wynne stood up straight and sighed heavily, placing a hand on her assistant's to signal her to stop.

"Kora," she whispered, unable to look the noblewoman in the eye. Kora's head began to shake violently back and forth.

"No. No. No no no no no!" she sobbed. Alistair, waking from his paralysis, slowly walked across the room.

The newborn was pale, eyes closed and limbs held close to its body by the swaddle it had been placed in at birth. As he pulled the blanket away to inspect further he discovered it was a girl. Holding back a gasp, he reached for a tiny hand, hoping it would curl around his finger as Duncan's had. But the impossibly petite fingers did not move. He then moved his face closer as he held the hand between his thumb and fore finger, gently massaging it. Then the tears started to fall.

"Hello my little girl," he whispered. Looking at Wynne for the ok, she nodded and he scooped the bundle up into his hands, bringing it slowly across the room to Kora's side. He sat down on the bed and with one arm around his wife, the other cradling their newborn child, Alistair began to sob.

Kora was so weak it was all she could do to cling to her husband's shirt, pulling him closer for comfort. As his tears took him she steeled herself, choosing to be the rock instead of the one leaning, and reached out to stroke his arm. A small gesture but all she could muster as she stared at the lifeless face of her daughter.

Kora knew loss. When she was a child she'd lost her mother. When she herself was assumed dead she lost her father. By the time Caden had taken the life of their older brother Vaughan she realized that she and death were to become old friends. But this… this was something outside of death, outside of loss. It was a piece of her soul that was ripped from her and just gone.

"Her name," Kora finally managed to whisper, reaching over to touch the baby's face. "We should name her." Alistair lifted his chin to nod slowly, opening his eyes to look down at their baby girl.

"Yes," he croaked, "we should name her. She deserves at least that." Kora peeled the blanket back enough to release the baby's arm, taking her hand.

"We could name her after your mother," she offered. "Fiona is a pretty name." Alistair sucked in a sob before shaking his head.

"No, she was strong and beautiful and perfect. We should name her after your mother." Finally able to make eye contact with his wife, they looked at each other tearfully then nodded.

"Alright," Kora breathed out. A small smile crossed her lips as more tears came rolling down her cheeks. "We will call her Varena."

"Varena," Alistair whispered, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

They looked upon their daughter, trying to absorb every feature, every detail they could before the inevitable. The line of her brow, her pouty lips, her cherub cheeks and blonde wisps of hair on top of her head, Kora traced every bit with her fingers, caressing that baby-soft skin. Alistair finally sighed, tears being spent.

"Wynne," he whispered, glancing in the mage's direction, "would you…"

"Of course Your Grace," she responded, immediately at his side. Hands clasped in front of her, she waited for Alistair to offer the child, not wanting to part them one moment before the grieving parents were ready.

Alistair pulled Varena to him, planting a tender kiss on her forehead then holding her close to his chest. Kora embraced them both, nuzzling close to her daughter to inhale her beautiful scent. Eventually Kora released them, rubbing Alistair's back gently as she brushed her lips to Varena's temple.

"Good-bye my beautiful girl," she whispered.