"Alistair?"
He stirs, hearing a familiar voice calling his name; feeling a gentle shake.
"Alistair, wake up."
His eyes open in confusion.
"Finally!" exclaimed Duncan. "I was beginning to worry you'd never awaken!"
"Duncan?" replied Alistair, sitting up in the bed, rubbing his brow.
"Who else?"
"But, how – where am I and how are you here?"
"You're in Weisshaupt, don't you remember?" asked Duncan, his face full of concern.
Alistair shakes his head, trying to clear the fog. "I was in the Tower, fighting abominations. You – you were dead. It was just me and new recruit, Bera, the mage."
Duncan chuckled. "Sounds like a Templar nightmare, to me. Just how much did you have to drink last night, young man?"
Yes, it did feel like a dream. That must be it. Alistair rubbed his head again. "Apparently more than I should have had."
"Well, get up and pull yourself together. We have a meeting with the First Warden," said Duncan, rising from the edge of the bed. "He wants a full report of the battle of Ostagar. He is most impressed with our work."
Alistair frowned. Ostagar. He remembered being overrun by Darkspawn. Being saved by Flemeth, the witch of the wilds they'd met during the Joining preparations. And Duncan… Duncan had been killed when Loghain fled the field.
No, that can't be right! Must have been some really good ale last night. Flemeth? The creature of legend? Saving him and that wonderful little mage, Bera? As if. And Loghain would never abandon Maric's son. Ridiculous! Clearly Duncan was alive, so the rest must be some twisted figment of his imagination.
Like "remembering" that cute little mage telling him he was handsome. Now there was a good dream, even if she was a mage. He wondered if she was here.
As if on cue, the door opened and in walked the dark-haired beauty of his recent fantasies. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight of her and then melted when he saw the relief and concern in her eyes. Hmmm. She really did seem to care about him. At least that much wasn't a dream!
"Alistair!" she exclaimed, rushing forward, throwing her arms around him. "I found you!"
Alistair had the grace to blush, perhaps lingering a little too long in her embrace, enjoying the feeling. A feeling that was not new to him.
"Bera!" Alistair exclaimed, pushing her away as he suddenly realized they were in his bedroom, with him in his smallclothes. "What are you doing in here? This isn't right."
"Cursed demons you bet it isn't right! Come on, we've got to get you out of here!" she said, tugging on his arm.
"Wait! I can't go out like this! And you, you can't be in here. Let me dress. I've got a meeting with the First Warden and I'm probably already late."
"Yes, you are," said Duncan from across the room. "And as much as I can see the attraction this lovely little elf might hold for you, I suggest you get dressed immediately and come with me."
Alistair turned bright red and fumbled for his clothes. "My apologies Duncan. I'll be ready in a moment."
"Alistair no!" Bera screamed, snatching his pants out of his hands. "We have to get you out of here! Now!"
"What is wrong with you, Bera? I've never seen you act this way!" replied Alistair, getting angry.
"Duncan is a demon! We're –"
"How dare you!" Alistair shouted, his anger fully unleashed. "To waltz into my bedroom, unannounced, and slander the one man who's ever cared for me! Who do you think you are?"
Bera's face turned crimson as her own fury ignited behind her icy blue eyes. Without hesitation, she reached up and slapped Alistair across the face. Hard.
"We. Are. In. The. Fade!"
Alistair stood stunned, the words slowly starting to seep in.
"Duncan is dead. This – thing. This demon, is trying to keep us trapped here. And I am going to get you out, one way or another!" she said, leveling her staff at his chest. "Are you with me, or not?"
Another flood of memories came pouring in. Loghain's betrayal. Duncan's death. The relief at finding her alive. The feel of her arms holding him in his grief, chasing away the nightmares of Ostagar that he'd relived time and time again.
His eyes misted as he looked around the room at a world he wanted so much to be real, to be true. Duncan alive, the Blight obviously ended.
And then they lit on her. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small, weak smile as he reached for his sword and shield. He knew exactly who she was.
His salvation.
