There was fire.
Fire and screaming and the smell of blood. Shea knew where he was. He could hear his mother's voice, though he couldn't quite make out the words. He knew where they were going and he didn't want to, wanted to turn and fight, but he couldn't, his body moving on its own.
And then the smell of blood got stronger and his father was there and the Warden was talking and he could hear himself protesting and then the screaming got louder and the Warden's hands were on him, dragging him away, except the Warden was gone and those weren't hands at all but something slimy and long, winding around him, squeezing until he couldn't breathe any more and this time Morrigan wasn't there to save him and he tried to struggle, desperately gasped for air and he could hear someone laughing madly, a woman, until it wasn't a woman any more but Howe and-
He woke with a scream and flailed, trying to escape the blanket, still feeling the broodmother's appendages around him, still struggling to breathe. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he didn't know who and then they were speaking, quiet and calm.
The blanket slipped of his shoulder as the other person pulled it off him and he stared at her for a few long moments until he finally recognized who it was.
Anora.
He was at home, he was with her, it was nothing but a nightmare.
He choked back a sob and tried to blink away the tears. Anora drew him closer and wrapped her arms around him.
"It's all right," she said. "It's all right, husband. I'm here."
Another sob and he slumped against her. She held him and rubbed his back and continued talking, voice calm and soothing. Eventually the tears stopped falling, his body stopped shaking and he tried to calm his breathing.
He swallowed and pulled back a little, but she didn't let go. "I'm sorry. For waking you up."
She shook her head, carted her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips against his jaw. "Don't worry."
He would, of course. He always did. But not right then. Instead, he stayed and let her hold him until she guided him to lie down again, arms still around him.
She pressed a kiss on his temple and stayed where she was, one hand still in his hair, lightly scratching the nape of his neck. It was only when she could feel him relax and he finally fell back asleep that she lay back and made herself comfortable.
He would fuss about it tomorrow, as he always did when he thought he was causing her trouble, but he would feel a little better, at least for a few days. Anora couldn't hold it against him. Not with everything he did for her, the way he strove to fulfil every request perfectly. Not when she had seen it with her father, how memories could haunt a person. Not when she knew what he dreamed of and what had caused those dreams.
He would fuss and she would tell him to stop and if she was a bit tired in the morning, she would deal with it.