Author's Note: This story assumes that you have hardened Alistair, not made him king, killed Loghain, and made him sleep with Morrigan to save both of you from dying. Enjoy.

I gasped for air as I woke up with a start. My hand had slipped under my pillow and was grasped firmly around the cool hilt of the dagger I kept there. It had been nearly a year since we fought the darkspawn, but I guess old habits do die hard. I slowed my breathing as my eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. Sensing nothing near, I allowed my hand to relax and slip out from under the pillow. I lay there for a moment, listening for the rhythmic breathing of Alistair, indicating I had not woken him. I heard him mumble something in his sleep and turned my head to see he had rolled over toward me sometime during the night. Whatever he was dreaming about must have been good, as he had the same goofy grin on his face that made me fall for him the first time.

I turned back to face the ceiling, trying to get my mind off that dream. It was a nightmare that I'd had before. Shortly after the archdemon had been slain I had the first nightmare. I dismissed it as nothing, honestly believing it was some sort of residual effect from his slaying. However, lately the nightmare had been getting more frequent and now I would have it more than twice a week.

It was a very haunting nightmare, in which the final battle played out again before my eyes. This time though, I had to watch Alistair die, and no matter how I tried to get to him, or the archdemon, first, the dream would always end the same. At the end of my nightmare I would be holding a dying Alistair in my arms, listening to his final words of "I love you". At the end there would be a booming voice that reverberated through my whole body saying "this is how it should have been." Lately, the feelings this dream brought had been more intense and the voice had stayed with me longer.

I let out a quiet sigh as I closed my eyes. I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep, I never could. I let my mind wander, trying to forget the nightmare. I felt Alistair shift positions, mumbling something again. I remembered the first time we really spoke to each other. It had been a night or two after we left Flemeth's hut, on our great quest to unite the various races under one flag. I remember waking up after one of many very vivid dreams about the archdemon to find Alistair sitting next to where I lay near the fire.

I suppose if I were to trace our relationship back to its roots, that's probably where it would start. Though it would be many battles and hard times, some of my dearest memories come from that time. A few tears ran down my cheek as I thought of all the friends I had lost. Lost in thought, I suddenly found myself in Alistair's warm embrace. I turned my head to find him peering at me through sleepy eyes.

"Can't sleep?" he inquired, still half asleep.

"I'm fine," I replied, turning toward him and kissing his forehead. "Go back to sleep."

"It's obvious you're not fine," Alistair rebuked me, now fully awake. He pulled himself up onto his elbow, so he was looking down on my tear stained face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I replied, sinking back into the pillows.

Alistair stared at me a little longer. The moon bounced it's light off his white skin, highlighting all the curves of his muscles. Even though it had been almost a year since we've had to battle, he was still in the same shape he had been in. I envied him because it seemed so easy for him to remain battle ready, while I struggled with it.

"Fine," Alistair said, breaking through my thoughts. "I'll let it go."

With that he let himself drop back onto the bed, and rolled over. I could tell by his posture he was sulking. He knew this wasn't the first time I had woken up in the middle of the night, though I don't know exactly how many times I had woken him. He had inquired about it before, and I had found opportunities to evade the question, which must frustrate him. I really hated when he was mad at me but I wasn't ready to lay all my sins out in front of him.

I snuggled up to his back and extended my neck out to whisper lightly in his ear.

"Don't be mad."

I felt him squirm a little. I knew that was the most surefire way to get him to stop being mad at me. I rested my head against his back, between his shoulders, and draped my arm over his chest. I felt him sigh a little, and a few moments later he took my hand into his and kissed it. His hand was so large compared to mine, and I always loved the way it engulfed mine. When he kissed it a second time, I knew he was no longer mad at me.