CHAPTER 10

"Auntie, come get me!"

Briar laughed as Oren's gleeful shouts bounced off the stoned walls of the outer hall, making sure she stomped towards him. "I'm coming for you, my little bear!" She growled, making claws of her hands and raising them.

Giggling madly, he began to run.

"I'm coming to get you, Oren!"

He ran faster, his high pitched giggles almost mocking her as she also began running to keep up.

"Oren, come back!"

"Come back! Come back! Come back!" Her own voice was mocking her now, rebounding back at her in a fury of echoes.

All pretenses of play gone, Briar was running at full speed, all but screaming for Oren.

She couldn't remember the hall being this long, surely it had to come to an end soon. As soon as she had thought it, the wall suddenly appeared. So did Oren, who was clinging to the wall tightly.

Try as she might, Briar couldn't slow down, screaming for Oren to get out of the way.

Instead he stood there, still smiling though there was something decidedly demonic about his smile.

"Oren!" She was gaining speed, her legs screaming for her to stop; her muscles burning in protest.

Oren was growing, and changing… into something fiery, and terrifying, and…

"OREN!"

~!~

"Should we wake her?"

Alistair glanced back over his shoulder, frowning slightly at the sight of Leliana standing behind him. "No." He said curtly, having a feeling Briar wouldn't appreciate the strange woman waking her up, or seeing her in a moment of weakness.

Or at least, he was assuming she wouldn't.

Truth be told, he still didn't know very much about Briar. But then again, he had also been so wrapped up in his own personal grief over the loss of their fellow Wardens, and Duncan, that he hadn't really tried to get to know his Sister in arms.

He had left everything so far up to her –which he probably would have done anyway as he preferred to follow-, not really caring what they did so long as it pertained to stopping the Blight.

When another, less intelligible scream came from Briar's tent, he pushed himself to his feet and waved Leliana away. "Go back to sleep," He murmured. "I'll take care of her."

"No," Leliana shook her head gently, taking his seat before the fire and reached out to pick up his discarded stick, coaxing the flames back to life. "I'll take the next watch. You look tired as well." Her Orlesian accent was soft, soothing.

Nodding, he approached the tent –new additions to their little camp, as they had gone from four to six in the course of a day, Briar had insisted. He halted when he spotted Draven lying on the ground, right at the tent's flap. "It's just me."

Draven whined, turning his head towards the tent.

"I know boy," Alistair crouched down, reaching out to scratch the Mabari behind his ears. "I hear her too."

Another whine.

"I'm going, I'm going." Taking a deep breath, Alistair pushed aside the flap and poked his head in, instantly spotting Briar.

It was hard not to, she was sitting upright. Light from the fire cast shadows in the tent but he could still see the way she sat hunched over; her face buried in the blanket between her knees; the way her upper body was shaking.

"Briar?"

Her head snapped up, it took her a moment to focus on him as she quickly wiped tears away from her face. "Alistair? Is everything alright?" Though it came out calm, her voice was still thick from her tears; bordering hoarse from the screaming.

He hesitated. "Uh… ye-es…"

Her mouth turned down into a frown that he couldn't see but damned if he couldn't feel it. Cursing his armor, he pulled himself into the tent and landed in a heap; grunting as metal bit into his skin. Sorting himself out quickly, he moved into a sitting position, knowing he was being very forward right now –being in her tent and all- and wondered how best to approach this.

"Are you alright?" She asked, her tone changing from worried to kindly.

It took him a moment to realize that she thought there was something wrong with him. "Maker's breath, woman…" This wasn't going well, not at all. He had no idea how to comfort someone, let alone her. He didn't even know if she needed comfort, maybe she had been having a simple nightmare. A darkspawn filled nightmare.

That was wrong and he knew it, but he clung to the hope anyway.

"I came in here to check on you, actually." He said finally, realizing she had been waiting on him to finish his exclamation. "You were, um, having a nightmare."

"Oh."

It quickly became apparent that she wasn't about to share it with him, if anything, she seemed to be pulling into herself; regrouping as it were. "Briar, I know that… I've been… quiet, and maybe sullen, these past few days-"

"Do you want to talk about it?" She interrupted. "About Duncan, I mean."

"What? No, no, you don't have to do that." How had this been turned around on him? He had come in here to speak of her, to comfort her from whatever was troubling her. "I-" The pain that was still so fresh, that he had been trying to keep in check and buried, was creeping upon him and he heard his voice break.

She remained silent.

"I just, keep thinking that if I'd of been there, then somehow, I might've been able to…"

"Save him." Briar finished in a whisper.

"Exactly."

Silence reigned for a few moments, punctuated by only the wind rustling against the tent.

Growing steadily more uncomfortable as the seconds passed, Alistair finally had to break the quiet. "I think after all this is over, I'll go to Highever, that's where Duncan said he was from."

Briar's throat closed even tighter.

"Hold a funeral for him…"

If we survive.

"Maybe I'll go with you."

"I think he'd like that."

"He was a good man."

"Yes." Alistair felt a bit better on his own end but also like a dolt. He had completely allowed her to deflect his own attempt at comforting her, as awkward as that was. "Here I am, going on about Duncan and… and being a complete ass these past few days, without even thinking of you. Have you…, have you ever lost someone?"

She drew in a sharp breath, the hole completely closed, strangling her.

"I'm sorry." That feeling of being a dolt increased tenfold. "I didn't mean to upset you-"

"You know my surname?" She finally asked, speaking in an almost tinny voice.

"Yes." He almost added 'my Lady', but didn't. Titles meant nothing to Grey Wardens and he wasn't entirely sure if she had joined the ranks willingly or been conscripted. If it were the latter, he figured addressing her as 'Lady Cousland' would have been rubbing salt in the wound.

"Duncan had come to Highever in search of recruits, he was interested in Ser Gilmore, a… knight I had grown up with, trained with." Her tone wavered but never faltered. "I wanted to go with my father so badly, to go to Ostagar and fight with him, but he wouldn't allow it. Then I found out a Grey Warden was in the castle and… And it was like all my dreams were coming true, I had read everything I could about the Order, listened to the bards, dreamt of joining."

He could relate to that, keeping silent however.

"The night my father was supposed to leave, we were attacked. Fergus had already left with some of our men for Ostagar, Father would be leaving in the morning with Rendon Howe."

Alistair wished he could see her face, leaning forward slightly.

"Howe and Father fought together before, during the rebellion against Orlais, they were best friends. That night, Howe's men attacked. Nobody was safe, not even my brother 's wife, Oriana, and their son… my nephew, Oren."

That was the name she had screamed out, now he knew what her nightmares had been about and felt his heart twisting painfully for her.

"Long story short, I am the only survivor of that night, as far as I know. Duncan helped me escape." The walls she had erected between her and everyone else were beginning to go back up, her voice taking on its usual clipped tone. "It is late, Alistair. Who is on watch?"

"Leliana."

"Oh bloody hell…"

~!~

Alistair knew he played stupid quite well, a habit he had made into a talent at the Chantry. Stupid people weren't noticed, much, which is what he was supposed to be. Unnoticed, invisible; he had picked all that up quickly.

He had also made it a habit to use humor to deflect attention aimed his way, it was a defensive mechanism that was now very much a part of him.

When Duncan had recruited him, he had been very surprised. He had expected the Grey Warden to overlook him, but… he hadn't.

No longer was he hidden in the shadows, he had a place and a purpose with the Grey Wardens, with his brothers –brothers who had died in the field at Ostagar. That place and purpose seemed to have been destroyed after the events at Ostagar, even following Briar around on some half-cocked plan to gather an army, seek out their allies hadn't seemed all that important.

It had seemed unobtainable.

Locked inside himself with his grief, he had followed and she had led. He had risen out of it for brief moments, to help her the first night the tainted nightmares came; to argue with Morrigan. But it was all over quickly and he had retreated right back into himself, ready to answer a question or look with a half smile and a joke.

That time would have to be over.