**Disclaimer: This world belongs to the creative minds behind the Bioware Dragon Age Series. I am humbly borrowing their world and embellishing their characters**

Author's Note: Please forgive the in-continuity in the cross game timelines. I began this story before we knew that Cullen appeared in Dragon Age II in Kirkwall within the first year after the Fifth Blight. I based this story upon the epilogue that indicated Cullen's mental break and attack on circle mages. I hope you enjoy!

OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

Zalena's golden eyes snapped open and darted around the darkened room. She lay breathless for a moment, recalling the nightmare. The thundering in her ears began to subside as her heart eventually found its natural rhythm again. Sitting up she pulled the twisted covers from her sweat soaked body and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her toes clenched at the soft fur rug on the floor. Glancing over her shoulder she confirmed that the space next to her was empty. It seemed that she always woke up alone. Alistair must have left some time in the night after she had fallen asleep. Even though Zalena was sure that everyone in Denerim knew about their relationship, Alistair wanted to maintain some level of discretion. She had little choice but to abide by his wishes. He was, after all, still the King.

Three nights in a row she had suffered the same terrific dream. Two nights she would have considered a mere coincidence, but by the third she simply could not discount it and she began to fear its meaning. Pressing a fist to her chest she closed her eyes and focused on the face of the man in her dream. His light copper colored hair, cut short to keep the natural curls from appearing too unruly; the brown eyes that had always held a bit of warmth when they glanced her way. Zalena tried to hold fast to the way his features had always softened when he spoke to her, but they kept twisting into a mask of hatred and even her mind's eye could not distinguish the two anymore. Poor Cullen. She sighed regretfully. He had undergone such torment at the Circle Tower and she knew it haunted him still. Her last visit to Lake Calenhad, shortly after the blight, had made it rather apparent.

Pushing herself up out of the bed, Zalena pulled a pale blue wrap around her shoulders and walked over to the small window at the far corner of her room. It was still dark out, no indication of dawn approaching yet. She knew it would be fruitless to try and sleep anymore; she hoped Alistair wouldn't be angry if she sought him out tonight. Part of her simply did not want to be alone right now. Tying the silken belt around her waist, Zalena smoothed her hair and sincerely hoped that no one else was stirring within the palace walls at this hour.

Alistair glanced over at the door. He heard it again, what sounded like feet shuffling just outside of his bedchamber. He had been lost in thought, staring into the flickering flames of the fire, when the first scraping noise had drawn his attention. Alistair reached into the drawer of his writing desk and pulled out a dagger. Perhaps it was paranoia, but the hour was late and it was obvious that whoever stood outside was making an effort to be particularly quiet. He froze when the latch lifted and the door pushed open slowly. A golden head appeared around the edge of the door and two startled eyes met his. Alistair let out his breath in a rush of air.

"Zalena, what are you doing up?" He asked.

"I might ask you the same," she replied stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind her.

Alistair set the dagger back in its resting place and pushed the drawer closed. "Well, it seems that Ferelden never truly sleeps." He stated waving a stack of papers that he had been holding in his other hand.

"Is there anything you need help with?" Zalena asked, stepping tentatively towards the desk.

Alistair glanced uncomfortably at the pages in his hand and shook his head. "No. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." He quickly shoved them beneath one of the many ledgers that were strewn about.

"Well, it is my duty to help advise the King." She arched a delicate brow. "With anything that may be troubling him."

Alistair couldn't help but smile. She was his absolute undoing at times. He wished that he carried her air of confidence, but whenever she looked at him that way he was like a stammering young boy all over again. She is an unnecessary distraction. Arl Eamon's words rang out in his head, an unwelcome reminder of their ongoing disagreement. Eamon seemed to hound him daily about his lack of a marriage. Alistair had managed to avoid the issue for over half a year, but after her return from Amaranthine Eamon had grown quite relentless.

Zalena watched as Alistair's countenance grew troubled. She knew the he and Eamon had fought a lot in recent months, but Alistair had not said anything to her about their quarrels and she had hesitated to pry. Bridging the gap between them she reached out to place a hand to the side of his face. Covering her hand with his own he pulled it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss in the palm.

"You never answered my question." Alistair spoke looking into her eyes.

Zalena chewed on her lip a moment, considering her response. "I awoke to an empty bed and missed having you there."

"Ah, I see." Alistair looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps we should remedy that then."

Pulling her into his arms Alistair kissed her hungrily and she responded in turn. His hand snaked its way through her mass of golden curls and he cradled her head as he gently pulled back to look into her eyes once more. She gazed back at him, sensing something different in the way he looked at her.

"I love you. More that I can possibly say." He said in a husky tone.

"Alistair-" she began, but was silenced as he pressed his lips to hers in another round of ravenous kisses. There was an edge of desperation in the way they held tight to each other. But true to his word, they lay together and he did not hasten for either to slink away in shame.

Zalena waited for Alistair's eyes to grow heavy. As soon as his eyes closed, she waived a hand over his face and whispered sleep into his ear. She had come to him troubled for her own reasons and found herself entirely unsettled in other ways. It was obvious that something very serious was weighing on him and it concerned her that he had not said anything to her about it. His breathing grew deeper, to the point that she knew he was sleeping quite soundly. Slipping silently from his bed, she plodded over to the writing desk on the opposite end of the bedchamber. Lightly picking up the corners of the ledgers, she eventually found the papers that he had conspicuously stashed out of sight earlier.

Glancing over the pages, she pondered the contents. It appeared to be a list of names with detailed information about each individual. As she read more of the names, it became clear. This was a list of Ferelden's noblewomen and their relative houses. These were prospects for Alistair to consider naming as his Queen. Zalena felt all of the air go out of her chest, leaving a gaping burning hole around her heart. She had known that this moment would come, but it was so easy to ignore when Alistair spent so much time by her side. Clearly Eamon was growing impatient with Alistair's delay consummating his reign as King. It explained the many arguments that silenced the moment she entered a room, Eamon's cold glares whenever she was present at a ball or formal gathering, as well as his apparent relief every time she left the palace for an extended period of time.

Zalena gently placed the pages back where she had found them. She stared over at the bed and tried to remind herself that she was gazing upon the King of Ferelden. He was no longer just Alistair. He could not be hers forever. She listened to the crackling of the fireplace and was lost in memories of a simpler time, when it was just her and a ragtag group of warriors with a mission. What she wouldn't give for another Archdemon right about now. As she sat contemplating her options, guilt overcame her for all of the things left undone in her rush to return to Alistair's side. She had to distance herself from him, but she didn't know where to go. Her fingers danced along the edge of the desk and landed on a letter from Greagoir. The tower. Zalena had been hesitant to return to the tower, but her dreams were leading her there for a reason. Perhaps that was just what she needed. A welcome distraction.

Gathering herself up, Zalena tiptoed over to the bed and placed a soft kiss on Alistair's forehead. He moaned but did not stir.

"I do love you, my King, more than you will ever know." She whispered and quietly left his chamber so that she could begin preparations for her journey.