It was a dream.

She knew it because she recognized all the signs. The light was just off and never the right colour and her movements were slow and sluggish.

They had been on the road for days, pushing to Jader to take ship, and finally when she and Alim had made camp for the night she refused his offers of revitalizing magic and collapsed in her tent. All she could think of was Carver. Getting to him, getting to the White Spire before the Hand's patience wore out.

Kahrin knew that they had little time to get there. The letter from Carver was tucked into the inside of her tunic, under her chest plate. He said he was fine. He said they'd give them time to reveal the information they sought. Every time she thought about the way he'd made her stand down, how she saw in his eyes the stubbornness that was unique to him make the decision for her.

She was supposed to be the Hero. A title she carried begrudgingly meant even less when she couldn't save people she loved. She should have been able to save him, but when his mouth was hard on hers she knew he'd resolved to put himself out there to protect her, to protect them all. The blow to the back of her head with his pommel was nothing like the blow to her heart when she'd awakened to find him gone.

And now there was precious little time.

Funny thing about time, though, is that there is always so much of it, and yet never enough.

She walked through the bar in her dream which was so like the small tavern where she'd first met him. Pulling fingers along the wood of the rail at the bar she frowned deeply and heaved a weary sigh. She'd take a darkspawn dream over this place. This reminder of him and how much she missed him that left a pit of despair in her stomach, which had been empty for days.

Then, there he was, as real as the last day she'd seen him, and yet she knew it was only a dream.

He appeared, gasping for breath and clearly haggard. She had known Leliana and the life the bard had lead before joining the cloister. It was painfully obvious to Kahrin that she was plying that trade on him. Her husband. The one she vowed to love and to protect.

Running to his side she gasped in relief to see him at all, and pulled him to her, kissing his face over every place her lips could meet it. Cradling his head she cooed softly into his ear that it was going to be all right and fought her tears as he mumbled softly.

His eye shone distantly as he took her head in his hands and kissed her, his lips to hers which parted willingly for him. He seemed to awaken with the contact and for just those few moments she imagined that everything was fine. He pulled back long before she was ready, making her gasp slightly, and looked her face, that stupid grin of his that she loved so much there against what looked as though he was surely hurting.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replied back, shaky and fighting off the crack in her voice that was forming in her throat at seeing him. "Are you hurt?" Arms circled around his neck and she leaned in and kissed his face again, adoring the feel of his skin in contact with her lips.

A rage burned up inside her, knowing what must be happening to him. She knew they wouldn't be gentle, and it ate at her stomach and pulled it into knots over how helpless she was to stop it. She had been so lost without him, without his presence to ground her and keep her steady. Help her keep her head. She needed Carver to help her figure out how to rescue Carver.

Carver kept grinning, his mouth over perfect teeth, and it was an odd expression, mixed with anxiousness and relief at the same time. She bit back all of the things she wanted to say, how worried she was, how she was sure they were hurting him, questions of what they were doing to him.

Let him relax here, and find harbour from whatever the waking world offered. Her mind could do without knowing the truth for now, if it meant he didn't have to talk about it.

" … it's nice to see you." The pained look on her face as he spoke couldn't be hidden.

It was, however, a miracle to see him. "I've missed you, too." She cradled his head carefully, the touch driving her almost to tears after so long.

He inhaled into her hair, and she'd almost forgotten the light touches, the small things, that she took for granted every day that they were together until he was taken from her. The feel of his hand brushing hair behind her ears. The feel of him at all.

She'd felled dragons, and set kings on thrones, but the brave look on his face, the almost protective look that showed on his face almost undid her. Leaning against him, wishing it was real. Wishing she could turn the days back to the simpler times back at Vigil's Keep when she'd complained that she was bored going day to day like normal people. At this moment in time she she'd trade in all her titles and armour and even her swords to reclaim that normal life and tuck him away somewhere. Somewhere safe and together.

"I half expected you to hit me," came out in a weak chuckle, and she let him pull her closer, drinking in the warmth that was his arms around her.

"I should. You deserve it." Waking up with that knot on her head had driven her to anger that had held the grief of her loss at bay. "But I underestimated how happy I'd be to see you. I'm still angry, but it doesn't matter. Not now. You're here, for however long." The place where his neck and shoulder came together always seemed like it was hollowed out for her nose to nuzzle into. "Maker, I needed this."

It was stupid to say, and she knew it. She wasn't enduring torture. She simply missed him. Simple and not.

"Oh, Maker, I did too." So soft she'd almost missed it, and it stung in her heart. Leliana was good at what she'd done, and Kahrin had met Marjolaine. She had an idea. The tension began to melt away from him as she ran fingers through his hair and closed her eyes and remembered the sound of his breathing, rhythmic like the tide. "Just don't hit me yet."

It was the furthest thing from her mind.

"May I sit in your lap?" She wouldn't openly challenge how strong he was at the moment, if he was too exhausted.

He pulled her into his lap and it brought a wave of relief. He settled her facing him and it was almost like nothing was wrong for those few moments. Leaning her forehead against his chest she inhaled sharply as his lips met her neck and his hands slid down over her hips. She ran her hands up his chest and locked her fingers around his neck and silently begged the Maker to let him remain here. Fingers curled over the back of his neck and from her position it felt like they had equal need.

"Don't stop, Maker's breath," she kissed him hard, breathing in his breath, filling the hollow place where his being missing was hurting her. "Even if it's not real, just …"

"Feels real. That's what matters." The words spoken into her neck made her breath hitch and a slightly strangled sob catch in her throat.

How long could they stay like this, in a dream, when the events of the world had torn them apart?

Kahrin felt him wince, and her eyes shot open before she was ready for him to break the kiss.

"No, no."

"Shh... love. What do I need to know, I don't know how much time I'll have here."

She shook her head hard and buried her face in his shoulder, then steeled herself and leaned back.

"We have someone there, trying to find you. Alim and I will be there as fast as we are able." Dread in her stomach told her that their time was running out. "You can't go yet, it's too soon."

Carver let out a soft sigh that was akin to relief at her words, and he hid it admirably, though she knew better. "No, not yet. I can sleep. Lots of sleep … is good." It was hardly reassuring, especially when paired with his weak laugh. Even in the Fade he sounded tired, and she knew he was trying to keep her from worrying.

"Good. I hope it's … the kind of sleep you need," and not the result of some poison or exhaustion from torture. "Know this: if she's hurt you, I will kill her." Kissing along his neck softly, she spoke sadly. "I was supposed to keep you safe."

His laugh was an odd sound in juxtaposition to her mood. When he spoke to her it was soft, and working on being reassuring. "No. Not your job. Your job is to be you. You do that brilliantly, thank the Maker." He met her mouth with his again and she could feel the slight tremble of his lip when she caught it between hers and sucked on it lightly.

The thought that any moment the dream could end for either of them pushed her to press herself against him, holding him around the neck with a slight desperation. Everything in her was struggling to not cry and fall apart in the precious moments they had together.

"It's because of you. I didn't shine until I met you." A sob threatened to erupt from her and she choked it back and kissed along his neck and jaw to keep her mouth from letting it go. "Why did you let them take you? I'd have stood by you, fought with you."

Keeping her hands to appropriate places in the middle of this bar didn't even cross her mind, she needed to feel his skin, to have a sense of him near her. Fingers gripped her hips.

"Of course you would have," his uneven breath was in her ear. "And you would have … fought … and possibly died." Her heart fluttered knowing she was causing the breaks in his speech, and not the fatigue of what he was no doubt enduring in Orlais. "Forgive me if I want us both alive. Alive … is always better. Always." His voice dipped low. "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, love."

Very explicit promises spilled from Kahrin's mouth, contingent upon his surviving long enough for her to get to him. She didn't have a solid plan beyond 'get to Orlais, get to Carver, now', but damn the world to the Void if she wasn't going to drag him out of the White Spire one way or another. "That is my word, and you can hold me to it." Her hands wandered about anywhere she could get purchase. "Is there anything you want? Right now?"

Please just give me more time.

Carver groaned almost inaudibly, she felt it before she heard it. "No, just you."

She ran her mouth along his neck, then his jaw, and tilted his head back to get to his throat. "I need to know, in case I don't make it there in time … do you have any regrets? With us?"

He pulled back from her, clearly puzzled. "Why would I have regrets? Of course not."

Sadly, and softly, she answered.

"I haven't always had time to say goodbye to people I've lost. I don't want that to happen again."

"Don't fuss, love, I'll … I'll be out of here before you know it."

She pushed up on her knees which were on either side of his hips. "I know. But you know me, I worry." Kissing his forehead, his nose, his chin, then finally his mouth, she wrapped her arms firmly around him, memorizing the smell of him, the taste, the warmth of his body to hers. "I'm just making sure."

The tugging of the waking world pulled on her, and she felt him slipping as well. She fought her mind to stay here. Just a few minutes more, please.

"You won't lose me, love. I promise," he held her to him, tight. "I sodding prom- oh fuck." He kissed her hard one more time as he began to fade away. "Love you."

Her hands held tight to what she could still feel. "No, Carver. Please. It's not enough time. Please, don't leave me. It's not enough time."

But he was already gone, and so was she, waking up in her tent in camp, already letting free her tears.