With bellies full of mutton and wine, they left behind the final town before beginning their crossing of the Bannorn. Alistair sat behind her on the horse, his arm clutched tightly to Eva's waist and chin resting gently upon her shoulder. When the ground under Zuni's feet was smooth enough, Eva would tilt her head to lean against the side of Alistair's, and would be rewarded by the rush of a contented breath exhaling in her ear. She felt a pleased grin crawl across her face on a few occasions, and she marveling at how her life had taken an unexpected turn yet again. She had stumbled back into a life with Alistair as quickly as she had originally stumbled into its destruction. While her mind was still troubled with the occasional worried thought, the squeeze of the strong arms around her reassured her that all would be well. Eventually anyway. What more could she ask for than for the betrayal that had ruined her to turn out not to be what she thought? For the love she had lost to be returned, to learn that he had never stopped loving her at all? Of course everything would be okay. They were together again.

The day droned on as the landscape turned from green to gold. The town had afforded them a full replenishment of their supplies and Eva had insisted on taking Alistair directly into the town healer, anxious for a second opinion on the cough that regularly attacked his body. To her dismay, the healer could reveal nothing they didn't already know, but a new pack of herbs and potions rested in the pouch clipped to her belt and she listened intently to his breathing for any sign that they might be making an improvement.

A couple hours into the late afternoon, after her mind spent another long stretch immersed within memories of the past, and she found herself seized by an uncontrollable need. She stopped Zuni in the middle of nowhere and pulled Alistair off the horse. The memories of all the painfully empty days, weeks and months, had overwhelmed her with the intense desire to pull him into her arms and embrace him. He had been holding onto her at every opportunity since they had left, and his grip never slipped, never eased in its fervor. It had provided comfort and reassurance that she didn't know how to express. Somewhere, within the quagmire of her thoughts, she'd began to worry that she wasn't returning his affections with as much ardency. She wanted him to be sure, to know without a shred of a doubt that he was loved. That he had been missed. That what they had before secrets and stupidity tore them apart, had made a deep, permanent imprint on her. She wanted him to know all the other feelings inside her besides just the anger that had dominated so much of the past two years. Because there was so much more than that, so much more.

Her mind was still troubled of course, by thoughts of Keiran and Morrigan, and the inevitable moment in their future when Alistair would seek news or contact with his son again. A day would come when she would be faced with seeing Alistair and Morrigan together once more, even if only in conversation. She hoped she'd be able to keep herself together on that day, that would be able to resist letting her emotions get the best of her. But she wasn't totally sure she'd be able to. Hopefully that day wouldn't come anytime soon.

After standing beside the horse with Alistair in her arms, she pulled back enough that she could look into his face. She needed to remind herself yet again that he was really there, that the events of the past several days hadn't all been a dream. She caressed his cheek while taking him in as fully as she was able, running the pad of her thumb along the outlines of his full lips, feeling the gentle golden stubble that coated his square chin, including the little spot just under his lip where the stubble naturally grew at its thickest. She wanted to drink him in, visually, emotionally, physically. His expressive eyebrows communicated all the thoughts that flitted through his mind as he stood quietly and let her examine him. At first he looked amused, his eyes shining a gentle gold smile that matched a subtle curl of his lips. And then came the slight furrow of his brow as he wondered what exactly she was doing just standing there looking at him so quietly. What was it she was thinking about, feeling, that would make her stop the horse in the middle of nowhere in order to pull him down to her? And on the heels of his silent wonderment came the dawning of a sad seriousness, and the reciprocating of her explorations. It had been real, all of it. Not some feverish dream that she kept fearing she would wake from. She watched the pinpricks of his pupils blow open, widening to take in as much of her as possible, seeming to need the same reminder, the same urgent hunger for reconnection.

His hands found her waist and one ran heavily up to her face, cupping her jaw and threading through her hair. She drew her own touch down his chin to the velvety skin of his neck, sliding gently over the firm adams apple and to the small curls of golden hair that dotted the taut flesh under his collar.

"Alistair," she breathed, needing to hear his name on her lips knowing it was no longer just the result of a fantasy of longing, spoken aloud to an empty room. "Alistair," she said again, clutching him to her fiercely, his body moving in close enough that the details of his face became a blur, that his nose bumped hers and the call of his lips became irresistible.

Without warning he crushed his mouth to hers, his body overtaken with a need so great that his hands shook as they pulled on her, wrapping around the narrow of her waist and then palming hard up her spine to press between her shoulder blades. She felt herself go loose under his touch, giving over to his pulling. She continued to fear that he was drawing on an empty well of strength and energy, his body still thoroughly ravaged by the harshness of their lost two years. But he seemed to harbor no such fears, his grip remaining firm and strong.

His kiss went as deep as it ever had, his mouth all but making love to her as tortured moans escaped his throat. Somehow her hands found their way under his clothes, running along the lean narrow waist and gripping onto the solid notches of his hips. She felt her heart begin to race, her thighs parting to welcome him as close as possible into the pooling heat between them. She gasped for air between mouthfuls of his lips, his hungry mouth and hands teasing a long, aching growl out of her.

She tried to pull away, tried to calm the both of them. The sooner they got to camp, the sooner she could pull his clothes off and give him a sound dose of her undivided attention. But he resisted her attempts to separate, tightening his grip and groaning in response.

"Please," he gasped. "Please, Eva…"

The need saturating his voice sent ripples down through her center, teasing away any desire to draw back and remount the horse to continue their journey. When finally the firm bulge in his breeches pressed into the sweet spot between her legs, she resolved to give him whatever he needed, regardless of where they were or how exposed their position.

She slipped down to her knees and pulled at the ties of his breeches, unleashing his throbbing hardness and taking it into her mouth with a sigh. He moaned loudly and tangled his fingers in her hair. She closed her eyes and savored the earthy taste of him, of his smooth, taut skin and the way each movement of her tongue and mouth registered with a tortured whimper. She let his sounds guide her movements, adjusting her speed and intensity with what elicited the loudest effect and she felt herself so aroused that she released a hand from him, allowing it to travel down her own body and find its way into her own breeches. She teased herself to a height of pleasure that she hoped matched his, but a discordant gasp caught her attention. Her eyes had barely opened before she found herself brought swiftly to the ground, his body descending upon hers as hungry hands ripped at her clothes. She met his gaze, seeing his eyes black with desire. He had seen her pleasuring herself as she sucked on him, and within moments he was pushing himself into her, sending a peal of almost unbearable pleasure resounding powerfully through her.

It was the middle of the day and the only other eyes around belonged to those of the prairie birds, but even they burst into flight as the cries of need and ecstasy rose sharply in volume. Despite the furious bucking and thrusting that pounded her into the ground, Eva registered no discomfort from the dust and clumps of greenery below her. She had not intended this, but the need to be closer to him, to see him had simply been too overpowering. Her love. Her Alistair. Losing him had been the realization of her greatest, deepest fear. She had already lost so much over the years. Her family, her home, almost every one she had ever known before her life as a Grey Warden, had all been destroyed by the blight. She'd had nothing left.

Back before they finally came together, before he finally kissed her, she'd started to fear that her attraction to him had been simply because of that, that he was all that she had. Wouldn't it be a natural progression? A girl who loses everyone she ever loved, and then endures trials and hardships at the side of a man who himself had nothing, of course an intense attachment would develop. And it wouldn't really matter who that man was — it could have been anyone.

But there was also the others… Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, Oghren and eventually Zevran. Sure they all became incredibly close friends, if a little antagonistic at times, but she hadn't felt anything for them that came close to the comfort, the feeling of home that was Alistair.

They lay in the dust, the sun beating down on them as their bodies descended back to the terrestrial plane. Finally he rolled off of her and helped her up, smoothing her hair and helping to brush the dirt and clinging bits of greenery from her clothes. They gravitated back into each other, finishing their little pit stop with was meant to be one last kiss, but which turned into just one more, and then another. She smiled into the soft whisper of his lips, feeling light again. If her goal had been to feel him, to connect with him, that had been accomplished in spades.

"Sorry," she said as she blushed.

He looked at her incredulously for a moment. "Sorry!? You're sorry for that? For pulling me off the horse and ravishing me in the middle of nowhere? And why, pray tell, would you ever be sorry for that?"

"Well… no. I don't know, I just. I need to tell you how happy I am to have you back Alistair. I hope you know that. I hope you know that, no matter what has happened, I never want to spend another second of my life without you."

"Oh, so you're apologizing for restoring all my life's hope and dreams?" he chuckled, squeezing her close. "Yes, that makes more sense. You should definitely feel badly about that. You monster, you."

She laughed again and swatted gently at his chest.

"Well I shouldn't need say that I too am happy to have you back. Surely that is well established by now, yes?" he said as his amber eyes warmed and he looked deeply into her. "I hope so at any rate. But if there is any question, let it be known my dear: I never want to spend another second of my life without you either."

She smiled again and pulled him toward the horse, straightening up her clothing and giving Zuni an appreciative pat on the neck.

"And for future reference," he continued, "please feel free to accost me like that anytime you want. I don't care where we are. We could be kneeling at the feet of bloody Queen Anora herself, surrounded by all the uptight nobles of Ferelden, and I'd still happily give you a proper shagging on the spot."

"Would you now?" she asked with a smile.

"Without a moment's hesitation."

She laughed again, "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Please do."

Soon she was relaxed into his chest again as his chin rested on her shoulder and the clomp of horse hooves took them deeper and deeper into the bannorn.

It was her third time making the arduous trek across the great plains of Ferelden. The bannorn was infamous for the ruthless stretches of nothingness that lay between the established Bann estates, and even the worst characters that Thedas had to offer avoided traversing too deeply into certain parts. Many of the smaller inroads were closed to through travel, and the banns kept a number of well trained guards at hand, a result of generations of neighborly feuding. It had only gotten worse post-Blight, when so many families had lost important members to the chaos, and had started scrambling to to find a new order of dominance. Avoiding run ins meant keeping to tracts of wilderness that lined the estates, but even there it was easy to get lost, or unknowingly trespass onto a suspicious landowner's field and find yourself the target of a rain of arrows. She'd heard numerous stories about merchants and travelers who'd been detained for weeks by a fearful bann's overzealous guards.

But Eva excelled at navigation, having made a point of learning maps of the stars, and to read the seasonal setting of the sun. Discerning East from West was easy to most, but in the depths of the November haze or the April storms when the sun was but a vague, indistinguishable presence, and set several degrees outside of its normal track to boot, East and West spanned an intimidatingly wide range. Emerging from the bannorn without complications depended heavily upon staying on just the right path and avoiding the most troublesome areas.

Her first time in she wasn't even aware until the second day that she had allowed her horse to stumble well beyond the bannorn borders. It was only a month from the discovery of Alistair and Morrigan, but somehow the betrayal felt both as fresh as could be, and impossibly old and constant. The loss of Alistair was a physical ache in her stomach that she could practically trace the boundaries of with her fingers. A mere month without him, a month of replaying the scene in the garden behind the hut in her mind over and over, and she felt as though she had aged a decade.

She'd found herself wandering aimlessly, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that it was foolish to delve too deeply into the hornet's nest that was the post-Blight bannorn, but unable to fully care much about the danger. She'd been lucky and made it out unscathed. She'd been lucky many more times since then, but she knew she couldn't afford to rely on luck alone. There had to be a threshold for such things, and she should have long crossed hers. The second and third time, she'd stayed on alert and made notes of the least populated trails and backroads. As the years went on, the feuding within the bannorn had stabilized somewhat, but there were still several notoriously trigger happy guard contingents that she knew to be careful of. Their 'attack first, ask questions later' policy might have kept their valuables safe from raiding during the blight, but it had also victimized a number of innocent travelers since then.

"I think I have cousins around here somewhere," Alistair observed as they trotted peacefully down an empty backroad. "Second or third cousins or something like that. A nasty little pair of twins who used to hide Meric's favorite pauldron and then tell our Nan they saw me running off with it. I got so many raps across the knuckles because of them. Nan knew how to leave the biggest, blackest bruises… it's hurt for weeks."

"That's terrible!" she said as she closed her hand over his, rubbing mindlessly as his knuckles. "Wait, what's a pauldron?"

"You know, those fluffy… shawl things that you drape over your shoulders."

"Oh. Of course. The fluffy shawl things," she responded in a teasing deadpan. Oddly, the description was effective. "Those little twats."

"Exactly. I'll bet they're still little terrors. We should find them and run off with their pauldrons," Alistair mused, "And maybe all their pants."

"That'll teach 'em," she said.

"If they learn from experience how inconvenient it can be not to have your shawl thingy when you need it then they'll think twice the next time they take someone elses, won't they?" he said. "Also, pants."

Eva laughed softly, "and no other innocent little boys when get their knuckles rapped on by Nan."

"That's right, just think of all the poor little boys and their sore knuckles."

"You'd be correcting one of Ferelden's great injustices," Eva added teasingly, "Bards everywhere would write songs about you."

"And you know, it's about time," he mused, "I thought for sure I'd have at least four or five of them by now."

"Yet another great injustice."

"See? Two birds, one stone."

"You're so very efficient!" she teased as she pulled out a skin of water and took a deep drink. "Alright, so it's decided then. Now exactly where do we find these mongrels?"

"Oh how sweet!" he laughed. "You remembered that my family was actually a pack of wild dogs!"

Eva smiled at the memory. It had been just a silly joke, but it'd been one of their earliest conversations, back when she was beginning to feel that first blush of infatuation that would blossom into love.

"Do wild dogs wear pauldrons?" she asked.

"These ones do apparently. Peculiar beasts, them."

"Well," she let out a serious sigh. "That explains quite a lot about you."

Alistair let out a little snort and tightened his arms around her waist, resting his chin back upon her shoulder. He was just tall enough to be able to wrap himself around her from behind and still see easily. She felt cocooned by him, grateful to be able to keep such close contact during their long hours of travel.

"I like being the big spoon on a horse," he sighed contentedly.

Eva laughed again, "Now there's a sentence you don't hear every day. But yes, I like it too. Did we never ride the same horse before?"

"Nope, always had our own. If only we had known!"

"Well it's no surprise really that it's worked out so comfortably. We fit together so well everywhere else," she said.

"That is true…" he flirted, dragging the words out with a playful little growl as he nuzzled against the skin of her neck. The sensation sent a happy shiver down her back, and she realized her cheeks were aching with the force of her her smile.

Camp was set up under a dense cover of trees, and as soon as the chill of night crept into the air, the rattle in Alistair's lungs became much more noticeable. They got their fire going and Alistair pulled out their provisions, ravenously devouring his portion almost immediately while Eva boiled some water for tea. Her own appetite was raging, and at the first opportunity she joined him, finding with disappointment that her food was gone almost before she'd even tasted it.

The Grey Warden appetite was brutal. She realized what a testament it was to their pain that they'd both ignored it for so long during their separation. Alistair especially, who used to practically beg like a dog anytime any one around him had food and he didn't. It had been a part of their joke.

She pulled his next dose of potions and herbs from the pouch and handed it to him to take, then removed her boots and coat, shedding all constraining clothing until she was left in just a simple tunic and some loose breeches, then joined Alistair on the ground again with a blanket in hand. She stretched out her legs and neck, pulling knots from her muscles caused by the day's jostling about on the horse. Soon she was leaned back against Alistair's chest again, the blanket wrapped around both of them as she looked into the fire.

"I can't wait to be settled somewhere together. Find our own little place," she said as she passed him the fresh full goblet of wine.

"I don't know, I kind of like this." He pressed a kiss to her neck.

"Well sure. This is nice…it reminds me so much of our first months together," she agreed.

"Me too. It's strange though, right? That we actually remember the fifth blight fondly?" he asked.

"Yes, definitely strange," she agreed. "You did ask me then if I would miss it and at the time I thought you were a little crazy. Extremely adorable, but definitely a little crazy. But you were right."

"I'm sorry, what was that? I didn't quite hear that last part," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughed, waving him off. "I do miss parts of it. The excitement of first love. Fighting side by side. And it's nice to have such a well defined purpose. But I would rather not have had to…" she stopped, unable to continue for a moment as she blocked the memory from her mind.

"What?" he asked, his lilting voice soft and entreating.

"Do what we did at the end there. What you did." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Eva regretted saying them. She had been trying to avoid any reference at all to Morrigan, to the child she and him bore together. She knew he regretted the secret meetings with her, but how could he possibly regret bringing his son into this world? Especially when it had been the very thing that had saved them all? She wished she could have just stopped herself. Those words felt cruel somehow, particularly to the sweet little boy she had met several years earlier.

"I mean… nevermind. I'm sorry. You know what I mean, I hope. I know it's not that simple any more," she stammered, feeling his silence growing heavy behind her. "Shit. I just ruined that whole moment didn't I?"

He squeezed her close again, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her neck. "I know what you mean, love."

She turned her head back to seek a kiss and was rewarded immediately with the press of his soft lips. She felt the last of the tension drain out of her muscles as she melted back into his kiss, nibbling gently at his pouty lower lip, tasting wine and herbs on his tongue. Their teeth clinked together briefly as the kiss grew more passionate despite the awkward positioning. She was groaning when it ended, an exhalation of comfort and pleasure. That it was by a fire and so reminiscent of some of their first kisses only made it sweeter.

The night of their first kiss was as vivid in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. There'd been kisses with two others before him, but she hadn't felt anything with them like she had when Alistair first confessed he'd come to care for her. He'd outright asked if she thought she might ever feel the same way, in a sweet little speech that sounded endearingly rehearsed. It took all her effort not to profess her undying love right then, not wanting to seem overeager and make him rethink his confession. When he finally, finally pulled her in and brought his face close, his hand was trembling noticeably against her cheek, his eyes glinting in the firelight and his breath smelled of mint — another sign to her that the whole thing had been planned.

But the kiss itself had been a little clumsy. She'd banged up against his armor, having to hold herself out so that the pieces didn't dig uncomfortably into her arms and chest. That very armor also seemed to make it awkward for him to stoop down to her face level, and he shifted on his feet several times as their lips were joined, trying to get himself into a better position. She hadn't been able to stop herself from smiling uncontrollably, making it difficult for her to rein her lips in. The result was not the deep kiss she'd been fantasizing about for weeks by then. But afterward, the memory of the kiss had been all the more precious precisely because of those little things that had made it so imperfect, so real.

He hadn't seemed disappointed in their first real act of affection, but once the fire had been put out and everyone was preparing to retire to their tents, she decided she wanted another shot at it, a chance to hopefully do it better, more like the kiss she had been envisioning. So she'd been on watch for an opportunity to steal him away. After he'd removed much of the upper pieces of his armor and was standing before the entrance to his tent in just a light tunic and his breeches, she'd approached him quietly from behind and picked up his hand. He gave her a charming, crooked little smile and she pulled him into the trees just beyond camp.

That time she'd been able to slide her hands up his chest, feeling the heat warming the thin linen tunic and the strong thumping of his heart beneath her fingertips. She'd raised herself on tiptoes and found his mouth in the dark, and he let out a surprised little gasp at how fervently she went in for their second kiss. The arms that closed around her were strong and eager and his mouth had no longer tasted of mint, but of wine and mutton stew. But finally she had the presence of mind to really give him the kiss she had wanted to. If he'd had any uncertainty about her feelings for him, despite her fumbled responses during his little speech, she hoped that she had put them to rest.

They'd kissed there in the dark for a long time. Simply kissed and nothing more, both of them seeming too nervous and inexperienced to do much more than explore each other's mouths and hold each other close.

She sighed at the memory. It was a memory she'd drowned out with liquor for two years, and now it finally felt safe to revisit it again.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked tiredly as he nuzzled into her hair. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his lips against her neck, the playful lilt of his crackling voice whispering over her ear.

"Everything," she breathed.

"Oh? Well that's quite a lot of stuff to have on your mind."

She laughed softly. "I'm thinking about the usual stuff actually."

"And what is the usual stuff?"

"You. Us. How much I love you," she answered. "What are you thinking about?"

"Also the usual. Us. Cheese. Your butt. How much I love you."

Eva snorted. "My butt?"

"Absolutely. I'm surprised that you're surprised. Have I told you lately how cute it is?" he asked as he slid a hand down to give her an affectionate little squeeze. "Actually cute isn't quite the right word is it? It's closer to… tantalizing? Maybe sublime. Or spleeendiiiid," he said, drawing the word out teasingly.

"Ooh, no paradisiacal. Yes, that's the one. That last one."

She laughed again, "Paradisiacal? Now you're reaching."

"I assure you I am not my lady. No true paradise could exist without your butt. And your lips," he said as he tilted her face back for another kiss. "And your laughter. We are in paradise right now in fact. Haven't you noticed?"

"I have actually," she said, and she realized her cheeks were aching again. "Except there's no cheese here."

"Not quite a dealbreaker," he joked softly. "But close."

He moved to sit up straight, and Eva noticed for the first time that he seemed to be sweating.

"Am I overheating you?" she asked, pulling away to look into his face. Despite his grin, he seemed flushed, his eyes slightly dulled.

"I don't think it's you, love. But… I do think it might be time for me to go lay down. Like, really lay down. I'm feeling a little…"

"A little what?" A spark of concern ignited in her gut.

"Lightheaded. I'm sure I'll be fine. It's probably just the new potions and herbs. Probably after a good night's sleep I'll be good as new," he reassured her.

Eva rose, turning to take his hands and help him up. He wrapped his arms around her for a moment, his body feeling blazingly warm, and she pressed into his chest, taking a deep breath of his woodsy scent. After he staggered tiredly to the tent and she helped him get comfortable inside, she lay a kiss on his forehead and left him to tidy up their camp, preparing them for an early morning's start. With any luck, they should approach South Reach by tomorrow evening, and then could spend the next night in a real bed. Perhaps she could even rent them a proper bath.

Mostly she just looked forward to getting her payout and then being free to find a place to tuck in with Alistair for a long season's rest. She hoped they could find a little rental property somewhere, preferably on the outskirts of a small town. Where they could take it easy, live a simple life. Maybe they would stay clear through the next winter, to give him plenty of time to finish recovering. He was good at acting like he was well, but she could see how easily he tired, how quickly he came down with the shakes when he hadn't had enough wine. He needed more real food, and better nights of sleep than what they got on the hard ground at camp. For a moment she felt guilty for their romp in the dirt earlier that day. He should be saving his strength, at least until he built up more of it, not expending it all on her.

But she recalled the need in his voice as he had begged her to continue. "Please, Eva…" Refusing him was practically impossible when he said her name like that. She felt a delicious shudder travel through her at the memory. Even in his weakened state, he could set her body on fire.

When she finally crawled into the tent herself, the little spark of concern flared into a loud nagging voice in the back of her mind. He was sleeping heavily, not even stirring when she tripped a little and accidentally fell onto his leg. And he was feverish, his forehead slick with sweat. She pulled the blankets back off him to try to allow him to cool off, and pulled a cloth from her pack to dampen it with water from her canteen, laying it over his forehead. As much as she wanted to cuddle up against him, she kept herself at a distance, not wanting to overheat him even further. Not knowing what else she could do besides let him hopefully sleep it off, she laid her hand over his chest so that at the very least she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, and she settled down to try to get her own night's sleep.

She awoke with a start as the first glow of light crept into their tent and immediately felt like something was wrong. She sat bolt upright with her heart racing and her first impulse was to listen for the sounds of invaders in their camp. But it quickly became apparent that that was not what had woken her. She turned to Alistair. Had he coughed perhaps? One of his really nasty sounding ones? She had no memory of it, and no idea what it was specifically that had caused her to wake. But as she looked closer at Alistair, a feeling of dread began to crawl sickeningly through her. She hoped it was only the blue light of early morning, but the skin of his face looked almost grey and ashen. And he had not moved a muscle in his sleep. He was normally a side sleeper, seeking her out and sliding up against her at every opportunity, but he was still lying neatly on his back, and his breaths were coming shallow and fast.

Crawling gingerly over him, she hovered her face over his and studied him as well as she could within the dim morning light. He definitely looked especially pale, and his forehead was no longer hot, but felt cold and clammy. She pulled the blanket back up to his chest, hoping he hadn't been cold all night. But if so, wouldn't that have woken him enough to pull the blankets up himself?

She resisted the urge to shake him, something in her wanting just to check that he was okay. To have him open his eyes and tell her that he was fine. But she was also afraid to disturb his rest. They would be leaving soon anyway, and he would need to have his strength if they were going to make it the rest of the way across the bannorn that day.

When she determined that the sun was close to breaching the horizon, she sat up again and gave him a shake, calling his name sweetly into his ear.

"Wake up my love," she cooed as she pushed strands of his hair away from his face.

No response, not even a flinch.

She shook him a bit harder and felt sick when his only movement was his head rolling to its side. She tried to press down the fear that was building in her abdomen. She knew something hadn't felt right when she woke, but she didn't know what. What more could she have done for him? What was even wrong?

"Alistair!" she called more sharply and she rolled his head back, patting his cheek and lifting his eyelids, still getting nothing back from him.

She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up into a sitting position, but his body was entirely limp, unmoving dead weight.

Panic was rising within her, fast and hard. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.