Disclaimer: All Dragon Age:Origins characters, scenarios, locations, and dialog belongs to EA and/Bioware and are in no way mine.

Author's Note: Yes it's one of those cookie cutter Fan Fictions about such-and-such's PC in Dragon Age: Origins. Hopefully, however, you'll be refreshed with a story about M!Cousland. I understand the first bit's rather short, it wasn't really meant to go farther at first. Funny how stories do that to you, eh?


Memories. They flashed in the darkness, some vivid, some blurred. A room of blue stone and dark shelves that emanated strongly of grain, lard, and oddly enough, copper. He was running, ducking into a secret passage as he saw the figures of his parents, the floor below them being painted red by some unseen brush. He remembered the anger he felt, the guilt...and as fast as the memory had come, it was gone again. Replacing it was a slightly fonder memory. He was in the wilds, along two other recruits, as Duncan had told him, and a Grey Warden who went by the name of Alistair. Alistair was recounting a joke he had heard in the chantry, which apparently didn't appeal to the other two, who smiled kindly to their technical superior. He remembered laughing. His initial impression of the would-be Templar had indeed not been a favorable one, teasing mages and responding with caked on sarcasm. Though the more he spent with Alistair, the more he found he enjoyed the man's company and was slightly amused at how similar they were. Alistair was just about to tell another, frustrated that he only got one laugh out of his comrades, when the war cry of the Darkspawn filled the air. As he drew his weapon, the image faded into nothingness. More images, flashes, and soon one stuck. The tower, the giant Darkspawn, the fear he felt. Not simply for his own safety, but for those he traveled with as well. He didn't remember much in the end. Running, yelling, slashing, the splash of warm, fowl smelling blood. He remembered feeling anger, watching as the armies marched away, only to turn and be struck by something hard. He fell, and all was dark again. The flashing memories stopped, and instead there was a singular, great beast. It's body dark, hidden, but the silhouette loomed. All he could see was the maw of the beast, illuminated by the monster's glowing eyes. Rows of teeth opened wide and it's head slithered forward, stopping just over a huddled dark mass. In the glow of it's eyes as it dove in for the kill, he saw them. His parents, Duncan, and his comrades who died, eaten alive in an instant by the beast. Their faces painted with terror as the image burned itself into his mind. Joseph's eyes darted open, spread wide as if it would allow him to see easier. He was screaming.

"Joseph! Joseph are you alright?" came a voice, one he was familiar with. It took him a moment before he was able to focus. It was then he saw the figure of a square-jawed man hovering over him. Blond hair barely visible in the firelight, and brown...maybe amber, Joseph didn't know, he didn't pay much attention, eyes blinking down at him worriedly. "Joseph, answer me! You were screaming, are you alright?"
Joseph sat up finally, nodding and realized his body shook with fear still. "Yea...I'm fine, Alistair."
He looked towards Morrigan's tent, the Wilds Witch that had come with them after he and Alistair had set out from the swamps from her mother's cabin where they awoke. She seemed unperturbed, not a noise came from her abode. This made Joseph sigh, he had half hoped...
Though Alistair didn't seem convinced, reverting to his usual sarcasm.

"Oh yes, I forgot. Screaming and rolling around is a normal nightly ritual. How could I have been so dense!" He said with a slight smirk

Joseph rolled his eyes, running a hand through his black hair. "Right," he retorted "I don't know why you don't go about screaming in your sleep. You weirdo."

Alistair took a seat, brushing dirt off his knees, perhaps simply something to do and look busy "Yes, I'm the weird one." he chuckles, looking around at the witch's tent before leaning in closer "It's the nightmares, right?"

Joseph nodded, answering without thinking "Yeah, I..." He stopped, blinking and looking at the ex-templar "...How did you know?"

Alistair smirked again, looking proud of himself for a moment "I told you before, everyone gets them. It's part of the taint. Something about us being able to tap into their 'group mind' as Duncan called it." He sat, staring off into the wilderness where they had camped, getting that far away look in his eyes he usually got when the two talked about their late commander. It had only been a few days since the battle where the Grey Wardens and the King had been betrayed. Joseph reached up and patted the young man on his shoulder, offering a soft smile, though he didn't seem to be able to stop himself from shaking. Alistair looked back towards him and looked him over curiously "Look, you sure you're alright?"

Joseph chuckled, trying to sound over the dream. "Yea. I'm fine." But when Alistair got up to head back to his tent, before he could open his mouth to say something, Joseph blurted out. "But, can I ask you something...odd?"

Alistair blinked, lowering himself again "Um, well I suppose. You're not going to ask me to dance the Remigold are you?" his attempt at humor made Joseph smile a little.

"I was, this is going to sound...really weird. But I was wondering if, you'd sleep...near, me?" He blinked, not sure why he had even asked that question.

Alistair seemed equally, if not more, thrown off and raised an eyebrow "Huh...not what I was expecting. Well, I...what?"

Joseph reached behind his head, scratching the back of it and looking around again, the awkward creeping up on him. "I wanted to know if you could, stay here with me, and stuff. You know, just to have someone nearby and such. I dunno, it's weird, like I said. I'm not even sure why I asked it. I just don't like the thought of being alone at...the moment," He sighed. 'Great', he thought, 'I sound like I'm after Alistair's britches or something'. He quickly waved a hand and tried to salvage the situation. He didn't want to loose the only friend he had over a misunderstanding, or worse yet, create a whole mess of awkward conversation henceforth. "Never mind, forget I said anything. Was a silly thought anywho. Uhm...good night, Alistair." Joseph turned, pulling his bedroll cover over him and looking at the makeshift wall of the tent. Alistair stood, looking at him funny while blush danced across his cheeks and made his way back over to his own tent. When he got to his knees to slip back onto his bedroll, he gazed back at his fellow warden's tent and sighed to himself. He remembered when he first started having the dreams, the terror. Maybe he was over reacting and it wasn't at all what he perceived it to be and was, in fact, an innocent request of companionship.
Still staring at the wall, or what would have to pass for a wall in the flimsy cover he had made for himself, Joseph was trying very hard not to fall asleep again. He was afraid of slipping into those dreams again. The last thing he wanted to see were those memories, again. He was about to get up and take a walk, swim, something other than sleep, when he saw the tent shift and he heard movement behind him. He reached slowly for his sword while turning his head ever so slowly to see just what had invaded. He almost did a double take when he saw the blond settling down not far from him, making himself comfortable and laying facing opposite of his comrade. Joseph let loose of the sword in his hand, turning back to the wall and smiling to himself. He was about to slip off to sleep, comfortable with the company, until...

"Don't expect me to cuddle." He could almost hear the smirk playing across the templar's lips.

"Let me guess, I have to get you a pretty dress first?"

"And dinner, perhaps." This got a chuckle from both of them. Joseph closed his eyes, succumbing to slumber that called to him.