Borrowed Time, Ch 8 – New Nightmare


Alistair watched Shiva as she lay on the opposite side of the fire, twitching and grinding her teeth. He winced every now and then as he listened, not envying the soreness she would wake up to.

He probably looked about the same when he was having one of his nightmares. The way he felt when he woke was unbelievable. No one should have to feel like that after sleeping. Being awake as he was, he tried to ignore the horror he knew Shiva was experiencing just a few feet away. The grass he was sitting on was still cool, though the fire had warmed his body. Shifting so his ass didn't hurt so much from the hard ground, he told himself he shouldn't wake her. That if he tried to save her from every nightmare she would have as a warden, she would never get any sleep. All he could do for her then was pray that she would wake on her own soon, then return to a more peaceful slumber.


Shiva was tired of running. She was never a good runner. Her stamina was low and she wasn't very fast. Even if she was a little faster, with her short stature each stride would cover little ground. In the dark stone corridors she ran through, she felt she might as well have been trying to run underwater. The lanterns above her made her hot. The heat was a tangible force keeping her back, slowed down to near stillness for whatever was behind her. Normally she would love being surrounded by stone – a foundation that was strong and would never break around her, would never leave her vulnerable for the world to see the weakness she tried to outgrow.

Stilled she did, but not for long since a thick black liquid began seeping out of the cracks in the floor and, like tentacles, reached for her feet that were so, so tired of running. She leapt forward before the vile liquid could touch her, but instead of sprinting up the stairs before her, she staggered. The panic that seized her was similar to what she would experience when she was young, far too young for the type of anxiety that her mother didn't experience until she reached her twenties.

At the top of the stairs, she reached a wooden door. The handle was as hot as a firebrand, the brands on her back stung from memories she needed to leave in their place in the back of her mind. The handle melted her glove and burned the skin of her palm. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that she had to tear the scorched flesh and leave some behind on the handle because she needed to move.

A roof? Yes, she was on a roof now. The sky was a shade of purple that should have been beautiful, but like everything else around her, was only oppressive. She heard noises behind her, like a thousand armored men running in her direction. The door she just came through smashed and the noise stopped. It had been darkspawn running after her. They stood at the top of the stairs, in three rows that stood shoulder to shoulder as far down the corridor as she could see. There was no way to defeat them. She'd normally be able to cut down dozens, but in this state she'd be lucky to slay five or six. A distant song was playing, from where she couldn't say. She wanted to follow it, but as she looked around she realized walking in any direction would send her over the edge. The song rose in pitch until it was a shrill cry, like a dragon's shout. It came nearer, became louder until her ears nearly bled. She covered her ears but was knocked down by something that made the entire rooftop shake. She caught herself with her hands, the burned skin still stinging.

"Warden." She was called by a slow, seething voice that was in no way human. She turned and was face to face with the Archdemon. There was no way it could see her because its snout was so close to her and its eyes so far back and apart. Her body was burning all over from sensing so much taint at once. She knew the Archdemon could feel her too, probably no more than a tickle. Its breathing made her sway, each gust was so strong. Its fangs protruded from its curled back lips, the length of each was about equal with her height.

She drew her sword. It looked so pathetic, no longer than its smallest incisor. She couldn't keep the tears back. She was about to fail Duncan. Alistair was, if he wasn't already dead, about to feel the same despair she did and she could do nothing to help him. Not him, herself, or anyone else. But she took a deep breath, opened her eyes and raised her sword. It glinted from the lit beacon overhead. She stepped back before the Archdemon let out another harsh cry that sent more of the black liquid from the back of its throat.

Shiva was covered in it. It hardened instantly, gluing her hand to her sword and making her armor stiff.

"Surrender, Warden." The same voice again. Just as chilling as the first time it spoke.

Never. Never surrender. You'll have to kill me.

Her whole body shook. The tremors traveled to the rooftop and increased in strength until the stone cracked and broke. The roof was falling apart from the edges inward. She wasn't ready to fall, but who ever was?

No fall. But she knew she was lying on her back. There was a rustling noise when she turned her head. Must be grass. Shiva took a look around and saw Leliana to her right, curled in the fetal position, sleeping soundly.

"You're finally awake. You sounded like you were having one major nightmare." She sat up and saw Alistair sitting by the fire. The worry in his eyes was evident. She was so relieved to see him. To feel a comfortable amount of warmth again. The lung full of air she gulped was much needed and felt as good as drinking a clean glass of water.

"I've had the same few recurring nightmares the past several years," she admitted, trying to keep those out of her mind. "Having something new to fear is almost… refreshing." Okay, so the last part was a complete lie. There was nothing refreshing about realizing a new fear. Knowing there was something else she could, and probably would, fail at.

"Maker's breath, what could be worse than that?"

Shiva shook her head, deciding not to speak more of nightmares. She stood, stretched and moved closer to him. "I've been meaning to talk to you for a few days now. About Ostagar."

Alistair sighed. Shiva wondered how much sleep he had gotten. He didn't look so bad, just depressed. "I don't know where to begin. I still can't believe Duncan... Duncan's." He shut his eyes tight trying to keep the tears back. There was so much raw emotion in his voice, she wanted to tell him to let it out, but Sten was near and still awake. Thankfully Morrigan was as far away from the small group as she could be – now wasn't the time to mock him. She settled for putting her hand on his back.

"I know. There was so much to learn from him, and about him. He said he had been the Warden-Commander for 20 years. To meet such a sudden, unexpected end." Shiva stared into the fire as Alistair subtly tried to wipe the tears that escaped. "Listen to us, shocked about what could happen in any battle. We should know better." Her dark humor had risen. She barely felt like herself.

"You're right. I should be handling it better at least. He told me he started having the nightmares again. We knew it wouldn't be long before he went to Orzammar."

"What are you talking about?"

Alistair was confused a moment before realizing Shiva barely knew the first thing about the price they paid for being a warden. He explained how the nightmares would return, or worsen, when the warden's body was finally weakening from the taint. The tradition was to go to Orzammar and die in the Deep Roads, in one last glorious battle with no hope of survival. This happens around the 30th year after a warden is tainted. Duncan had passed this age.

"Now you know why the wardens are so secretive. No one would join if they knew."

"I would have. That's 30 years longer than I would have had. There are some who are willing. If more people knew, then we wouldn't have people like Ser Jory walking into a situation they would never return from. He spoke of a wife and child. They would still have their father if it weren't for the secrecy. I can't help but disagree."

"After all I just told you, you still don't understand?"

"I understand. I just don't agree. Not that it matters. These secrets have been kept for centuries. It is not my place to reveal them. We keep it between us." Her hand slid around his shoulder, while her other squeezed his arm to comfort him. He seemed to appreciate the gesture. He gave her a weak smile. They sat in silence for a few moments, her arms still around Alistair, before he cleared his throat.

"It's nearly dawn, we should probably get moving."


When they left their camp, Alistair and Shiva led the group. They spoke about how they met Duncan. Both were able to speak about him a little easier now. Both were more grateful for each other's company than they'd admit. They were soon joking again. Alistair was surprised to learn of Shiva's past, and when Shiva learned of Alistair's, she understood him much better than before.

She had feelings for him, she couldn't deny that. He was caring, handsome, and a capable warrior. She had a feeling he wasn't right for her though, not in a romantic way. She was so dark and damaged. He deserved a pure maiden that fit the fantasy that practically defined a man like him. All he needed was shinier armor.

Shiva smiled and shook her head at some cheesy joke he recited that she only half listened to. Hopefully his awkward, corny charm would help them once they reached Redcliff.