Telling the Tale

by Seredine

After twenty-eight years of silence, Nyra and Alistair finally decide it's time to tell the tale of their adventures during the Blight. However, even telling a simple story can have its problems. This story is set both within game and 28 years in the future where we see glimpses of life afterwards for the fated Grey Warden couple. M for language, themes, & content.

11. Chapter XI: Down at the Docks

Yey! Back to Nyra's POV :D

Thanks to Jo for beta-reading for me! She's a total star - two chapters in one day after she came back from her Holidays! Fantastic!

As people have waited so long for these, I'm posting them close together, but I soon hope to go back to my one every five days or so. I'm finishing chapter 13 atm. As much as I always hate the fade dreams they're really hard to write when you're changing them (Nyra and Alistair's!) but that's getting ahead of ourselves, so lets get back to chapter 11!

Super thanks to all who read this, and mega love to those who review. Regardless you all rock!

Chapter Eleven – Down at the Docks

'So really, nothing exciting actually happened on the way to the Circle of Magi,' Nyra explained, rubbing her eyes tiredly. 'We walked each day, set up camp each night; we all talked and got to know one another a little bit.' Nyra rested her head in Alistair's lap and settled down, yawning as her husband pulled the blanket around her tightly and stroked her long white hair.

'Nyra and I got to know one another a little better, without revealing our secrets still and all was well with us again.'

'I think,' Nyra said as she rolled on her side and looked at the Scholar. 'That nothing more than that happened because, although we were getting on with those we had formed tentative friendships with, we all still didn't know each other very well. When you're trying to get people to like you, you tend to be on your best behaviour.'

'Are you saying that camp wasn't always so easy?' Lowena asked as she scribbled something down. Alistair let out a bark of laughter.

'Hair pulling, name calling and things being thrown at one another were regular occurrences as we progressed on our travels,' Alistair told her.

'No, they were only regular when you and Morrigan travelled together,' Nyra giggled as she turned back over to look up at him. 'We made it to the docks by the Circle of Magi in fifteen days, but there were still plenty of obstacles in our path…'

o-O-o

As we approached the docks of Lake Calenhad, the tower loomed large above us. It's imposing structure reaching out into the night like an ice cold finger pointing towards the sky. I shivered in apprehension at the sight of it; when I had visited with Duncan on our way to Ostagar to heal Samuel's leg I had been left at the Inn, surprised, but happy, to see an old friend, Felsi, and hadn't paid the Tower much heed.

'Happy place isn't it,' Alistair muttered to me as we stopped before the dock.

'I didn't realise it before,' I whispered, looking towards Morrigan who didn't look too thrilled at its appearance. 'But it really is a prison, isn't it? Sitting in the middle of the lake, no escape from it even if they do get outside – I'm guessing that thing that humans do in water is not on the Magi Curriculum?'

'Swimming? No,' Alistair shook his head. 'We should find a ferryman at the bottom of the dock – he's got a place up there.'

'He stays here all the time?' I shook my head amazed at the idea that someone would shackle themselves to this place by choice.

'He's the only ferryman – he's probably paid handsomely. I doubt many would want the job,' Alistair echoed my thoughts.

We made our way down the wharf towards the lone man who appeared to be standing watch. I noted that his silhouette seemed awfully bulky for someone who was just a simple ferryman, it was like he wore armour or…

'Why is a Templar keeping watch on the dock?' Morrigan mused, missing a step. I noticed that she was actually edging nearer to Alistair the closer we got to the waterfront. Her voice had a slight tremor to it, if any of the others noticed they didn't say anything.

Sten, I observed, was looking anywhere but at the port and our destination, and almost tripped over a discarded barrel. He caught me looking at him as he righted himself and grunted in dismissal. I shrugged and focused back on the task at hand.

'Remember what we said, Alistair.' He nodded at me, eyes focused on his target.

'Good evening,' Alistair greeted the Templar as we reached the end of the jetty. 'I was looking for the ferryman.'

'I'm afraid that the tower is closed to visitors,' the Templar snapped arrogantly.

'Oh,' Alistair sounded disappointed and uncertain. He rubbed the back of his neck as Morrigan sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes, and Sten grumbled. I tugged on Alistair's hand; he leaned down so I could whisper into this ear.

'We're not visitors,' he said, although his voice wasn't as commanding or as forceful as I would have liked. 'We're Grey Wardens.'

'Pull the other one mate,' the Templar laughed. 'I'm not green around the ears you know.'

'But, we really are!' Alistair protested without thought.

'Prove it.' It was like children fighting. Again. Did Alistair instil this attitude in all he met?

'I've got these documents-'

'You know, I have documents, too. They say I'm the queen of Antiva. What do you think of that?' I half expected the Templar to stick his tongue out at Alistair. Alistair paused for a second in thought.

'Aren't queens female?' Alistair asked, sounding like he was really trying to catch the Templar out in his lie.

'Don't question royalty.' I heard Leliana snigger behind me, and I had to control the urge to smirk myself. 'Kill some Darkspawn. Come on; let's see some righteous Grey Wardening.' The Templar folded his arms and tapped his foot.'

'There's no Dark- Wait! This is official Grey Warden business; I don't have to prove anything to you!'

'So I'm not good enough for you? Fine. See if you get to the tower on your own.' I grabbed Alistair's hands as he made to shove the Templar off the edge of the pier and pulled him back down the jetty. I waved to the others to move back towards the inn.

'That snotty little… git,' he threw back over his shoulder as the other man waved at him, his face smug. It took all my strength to stop him from turning around and finishing what he had started.

'Oh, Alistair,' Leliana giggled, throwing her arm around him, helping me to steer him towards the tavern. 'I have never seen anything so funny – two grown Templars, arguing like children.'

'If that is how they act around one another,' Morrigan chimed in. ''Tis of some surprise to me that the Mages have yet to overthrow them.'

'I am not a Templar! How many times do I have to say this?' Alistair threw his hands up in the air as we walked into the tavern. 'Almost a Templar. Almost. No vows taken. No oaths sworn. No lyrium sampled.'

'Okay, Alistair,' I tried to sooth him. 'We get the point. It was funny though.' I sniggered a little. He looked down at me, frowning. I smiled a beaming smile to him and fluttered my lashes sweetly. He smiled slightly as he sighed, shaking his head whilst pulling out a chair for me.

I sat down and motioned to the barkeep, ordering drinks for us all.

o-O-o

When we had settled ourselves in the pub with a drink or two, I took stock of our group. Alistair was enthralled in conversation with Leliana about the range of fine cheeses that Orlais produced. He was flabbergasted that there were nearly three hundred different varieties from the north of Orlais alone! I made a mental note that if we had to travel there for any reason then he was staying in the south. He'd come back popping out of his armour!

Sten was eyeing his mug of ale suspiciously, whilst simultaneously watching Bert as the dog snuffled around the table. The hound whined and plopped his head on the wooden block looking at the man with his huge black eyes. The Qunari grunted before pouring some of his ale on to a plate and pushing it towards the dog.

'If he's ill tonight, Sten,' I pointed my own mug at Bert, 'you're dealing with it.' The Qunari grunted again.

Morrigan was necking down goblets of wine as fast as the bartender could pour them. During our walk towards the tower Morrigan had started to withdraw; she stopped giving her opinion on matters, didn't argue as much when asked to do something and she stopped bickering with Alistair, much to his relief. He had been trying to get on with her, but she wasn't making it easy on him.

'Are you okay, Morrigan?' I asked quietly, not wanting the others to notice her discomfort.

'Of course, why would I not be fine? What would possibly be a cause of concern to me? 'Tis strange that you would ask – why do you ask?' she ushered out in one breath, followed by another large gulp of the purple liquid the barkeep poured. I watched him as he notched up our tab.

'Well, you've been very quiet on the way here, and we are going to a place full of people who would love to get their hands on an apostate.' She looked at me through narrowed eyes before sighing and placing her goblet of wine down.

''Tis true, I do not relish the idea of a dozen or more of those fools,' she nodded at Alistair, 'watching my every move – or even knowing that I exist.' I allowed her comment to slide as Alistair hadn't heard – or if he had, he had ignored her too.

'If you promise not to run our tab up beyond a sovereign you could always stay here whilst Alistair and I go up to the tower.'

'I could?' Morrigan looked at me in surprise before schooling her features back to her impassive way. 'I mean, 'tis a fine idea – why would we all need to be present for you to call the Magi to arms?'

'Then it's settled, we'll try again in the morning. You can stay here and watch Bert and our possessions.' I smiled as I watched her shudder – she wasn't particularly fond of the hound since he had left her a present, a dead bird, in her pack. 'Alistair and I will go up to the tower and get their support; it shouldn't take long – a couple of hours perhaps.'

Morrigan smiled and left the table looking like a great weight had been relieved from her shoulders as she made her way over to the bar.

I watched as Sten put down his own mug of ale and nodded in confirmation of some silent discussion he had been having with himself. He stood and left the tavern without a word to anyone. Seeing Alistair and Leliana in such deep conversation, probably about the Maker and Andraste again – there where an awful lot of women in the bar – I moved to the door of the inn and watched as the Qunari approached the lakeside and looked around; every so often he would peer up at the tower, take a step or two in a different direction and look again. As he started up the hill, back towards the outskirt of the area, I left the pub, wrapped in the shadows that the darkness brought and followed him.

He was muttering as he walked and for once looked completely unsure of his steps, of his direction, or his place, not the Sten I had grown accustomed too.

'Vashedan!' he hissed after about twenty minutes of his mysterious walk.

'Are you okay, Sten?' I asked carefully stepping out of the shadows. Although I got on with him, he could change his mood and view of you in a second. 'You seem a little disturbed by the area.' He seemed unperturbed by my following him, which was usual for him.

'I have been here before.'

'Oh?'

'When I first came to your lands-'

'Human lands, Sten, they are not mine.'

'I apologise. When I first came to this land, I came with seven of the Beresaad – my brothers. We sought answers about the Blight.'

'You had heard of it all the way up in the north? Even this land is divided on whether it is a true Blight or not.'

'They are fools. As were we. We made it across the Ferelden countryside without incident, seeing nothing of the threat we were sent to observe, until we camped here.' He waved his arm around at the lake. 'Or somewhere around here. They came from everywhere – the earth beneath our feet, the air above; our own shadows harboured the Darkspawn.'

'Sounds like Ostagar.' I drew my blades, my eyes quickly checking over the landscape. If that happened again, I wanted to be prepared.

'I heard stories of what happened at this Ostagar – your kith stood strong when others were weak and fled in fear.' Sten looked like he approved. 'I do not know how long I lay on the battlefield amongst the dead, my brothers, nor do I know how the farmers found me.

'I only know that when I woke up, I was in a strange house with people I did not know and my sword was gone from my hand. I searched for it and when that failed, I asked the people what had become of it. They said they found me with nothing and I…' he said nothing as he looked into the forest that surrounded the lake, trying to see something that was no longer there.

'Did you kill them, Sten?' I asked quietly. 'Is that why you were in the cage?'

'Yes.' He bit out. 'I knew that they didn't have the blade, they had no reason to lie and I… panicked.'

'I… I don't think I understand – this was over a sword?'

'That sword was made for my hand alone. It is my Asala, my… what is your word? Soul? I have carried it since the day I was set into the Beresaad. I was to die wielding it.' He looked forlorn, his eyes empty and resigned to his fate. 'Even if I could cross the world again, alone and unarmed, I would be slain on sight by the Antaam. They would see me as a deserter – soulless.'

'Perhaps, we could search for your… Asala?' I offered gently as I started looking around my feet, not actually knowing where to begin.

'That, Kabethari, is what I am doing – I just do not know where we fought… it appears different in this light. Vashedan.'

'I will help you, Sten,' I thought of my own dragonbone blade left behind in Orzammar. 'I know what it feels like to have a blade that feels a part of you stolen from you grasp.'

'It would be point- I… Thank you, Ka- Warden.'

We looked for the sword, trying to piece together where Sten and his brothers had camped that night, weeks ago. Finally we stumbled across a scavenger who mentioned he had only heard of the site through another man on his way to Orzammar, who had a lot of strange and very large weaponry in his cart. I promised Sten that Orzammar was on our list of places to go – we'd continue the hunt, but it may take some time. From the look in his eyes I didn't think he believed me, but he thanked me anyway.

When we returned to the inn I sidled up to the bar to avoid the others, trying to lose myself amidst the other patrons. I was happy up to hear that they served the ale of the Dwarva and added it to my tab with the barkeep. Nursing a tankard of the brew I pondered my current situation.

It had been a strange two weeks since we had left Lothering. Whilst Alistair had been avoiding me I had found Morrigan and Sten unexpectedly welcoming to me and I actually enjoyed their company; they were forthright with their thoughts, blunt and always to the point. It was so refreshing after everyone had tiptoed around me as Orzammar's Princess.

Morrigan liked silence and I had needed time to think about things past, present and future; so time with Morrigan was never time wasted, as clarity came with the hours I spent in her little area of the camp, whether through the silence or the logic of her point of view – even if I didn't always agree with it, it gave me a different perspective.

I had kept my word to Alistair and had tried to speak to Leliana. From her words I suspected she was more than what she made out to be. Travelling around the world did not necessarily mean that you would pick up the skills she had, and she certainly hadn't learnt them as a Cloister Sister. I also suspected that, although her firm belief in the Maker and her vision to join us was not a ruse on her part, she was not as simple as she made out to be.

Then there was Sten. After Alistair, I found Sten the easiest to speak to. Sten liked fighting, I liked fighting and so we spoke about fighting. I believed in a caste system as did the Qunari to some extent; there were some differences of opinion in regard to the sexes and their abilities, and Sten was very unbending in his beliefs, as I was, but it was interesting to see similarities in our cultures. I liked that there was no front with him. He spoke plainly and honestly. After the back door politics of Orzammar it was a very nice change. However, after this evening I understood a little more about him; in his own way, he, too, was now exiled from his home. I looked at the group again; Alistair, Sten and I were all homeless – none of us knew where we belonged.

'I am sorry to disrupt your solitude,' Morrigan's voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned, giving her a slight smile, raising my mug to her. She nodded in acknowledgement. 'I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of arranging some accommodation for us this eve. I thought that spending tonight in a tent would be more miserable knowing that there were rooms in here.'

The thought of sleeping in a bed again after our time on the road appealed to my body. 'I'd agree.'

'Very good. Unfortunately there are only three rooms, and thus, some of us will have to share.' I shrugged my shoulders and sipped at my ale, silently hoping I'd get the room to myself. Although anyone but Leliana, I thought, I can cope with.

'Sten requires his own room as he is too… large for a single bed. I would share with him, but alas he has turned me down.' Her forehead wrinkled a little in a frown at the thought of a man possibly turning down her company for a night.

'Hence I will share with our Cloister Sister, and you shall share with Alistair.' I made to speak, but she carried on. 'Although you've been quieter since the ignorant- Alistair,' she corrected herself at my raised eyebrow, 'has finally begun to shoulder his responsibilities, if you do happen to have a nightmare tonight, he will be close at hand – I do not wish to be tossed out in the dead of the night.'

'Ah.' She handed me the key to our room.

'Good night, Nyra.'

'Night, Morrigan,' I called as I watched her walk away towards the stairs of the tavern and to her room.

Although Alistair had been helping me to quell the nightmares, they still continued to plague me. The Fade scared me more than anything I had ever come across before. I felt weak and helpless; there was nothing I could do when I heard their voices. When Morrigan was trying to help me she told me that I wasn't actually entering the Fade, but I was connecting with the Darkspawn and the Archdemon. They could not see me, they didn't know I was there and, in actuality, I wasn't there, I was safe in my own tent away from them all. But still it did not help. Still I felt that my spirit was being whisked away to somewhere I could not control and still the terror gripped me.

Alistair had tried to teach me the method he had been shown to close my mind off to the Darkspawn, Sten had tried to show me Qun meditation techniques and Leliana had tried to relax my body with massage – although my apprehension at such contact from another woman did little to help. But still the nightmares haunted me.

I sighed as the barman filled up my tankard again.

'So… you're female, Leliana, right?' Alistair's voice interrupted my thoughts, he and Leliana stood at the bar just a few patrons away. I drained my tankard quickly and tapped it again for the barman to refill, and hoped that the pair wouldn't notice me in the dim light.

'I am? That's news. When did that happen?' I smirked at Leliana's light response.

'I just wanted some advice. What should I do if… If I think a woman is special and-'

'You want to woo her? Here's a good tip: you shouldn't question her about her female-ness.'

'All right, yes. Good point.' I nearly dropped my tankard. Although I had accused him of fancying the red-head on more than one occasion, to hear them actually flirting was surprising, and a little upsetting for some reason. I had wanted him to stop ignoring me to help me learn about how to be a Warden, to continue the friendship we had begun during our time at the witches' home and to ensure that we were united in stopping the blight… right?

'Why do you ask?' Leliana's voice interrupted my thoughts again. 'Are you afraid things will not proceed naturally?'

Please don't proceed naturally into our room!

'Why would they? Especially when I do things like ask women if they're female.'

'It adds to your charm, Alistair. You are a little awkward. It is endearing.'

It really is, I thought with a small smile. And refreshing. I brought my drink back up to my lips, thinking about what Leliana had said.

I had never known any man like my fellow Warden. When he wasn't ignoring me he was sweet and considerate, he did things, not because I asked or expected them to be done, but because he wanted to, anticipating nothing in return. In Lothering I had thought that perhaps there was more behind his motivations, just as there always was from everyone in Orzammar. I had realised, however, that it was just him being him, and I liked him.

It, I corrected myself. I like it, not him. Not that way, anyway. Of course I like him, just not like-like him.

I groaned, realising I was arguing with myself – a sure sign I had had enough to drink – and pushed my mug back. Tossing a sovereign to the bar tender, I left the bar and them to their flirtations.

o-O-o

What is the point, my mind growled, of having a fire going if you leave the window open? I stood on the bed to close one window and draw the curtains before I stomped across the room to close the second, only to find I was too short to reach the handle and there was nothing for me to stand on. I kicked the wall in frustration and glared as a small breeze blew through, mocking me. I shivered as the wind nipped at me through my thin shirt and britches and hugged myself as I looked at the Tower again and thought about the poor Magi trapped within its walls.

Alistair's words to me about their Harrowing procedure hit too close to home. Like them I had been condemned without proof of my crime, but at least I had been given a second chance. What would have happened if Duncan had not chosen to come to Orzammar? When I had spoken to him he had mentioned that he'd had thoughts of visiting a number of other places to seek Grey Warden recruits, but he had needed to confirm the lack of Darkspawn in the Deep Roads. Confirmation of the Blight was more important than one more recruit I surmised.

Fate was a twisted mistress, I thought. He had gone to Orzammar to confirm a Blight and to garner support, and instead he had ended up with a recruit – one who was now leading a rabble across a country torn by the very question he had sought the answer to. I snorted as I thought about the sheer luck of it – imagine someone who had no experience of battle or command leading this rag-tag group, trying to gain allies and fight this Blight – I was unsure if I could even do it.

I leant on the window sill, my chin in the palm of my hand as I looked across the land I was now a part of. Would things have been different if I had come here with Cailan? A large lump of emotion clawed at my chest at the thought of my friend falling in battle. If I had left with him, he said he would have made me advisor over his military; would he have listened to me about waiting for more reinforcements? Would I have made a difference in calling the Dwarva to arms? Would Teyrn Loghain have respected me enough to understand that this wasn't about Orlais invading? Would I have even believed this to be a Blight? There were just so many unanswerable questions, and as much as I wanted to be able to answer them, the fact remained that Cailan was dead.

Cailan was dead, Gorim was in Denerim possibly assuming me dead and I was stuck with a horny almost-Templar, an air-head ex-Cloister Sister, a bitch of a witch and a soulless giant, whilst trying to save the world. This can't be real, I thought. I'll wake up in a moment and laugh about this with Gorim when he comes to collect me for practice. Oh Gorim, where are you? I need you by my side, guiding me, with your calming words and–

'You decent?' Alistair's voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see his head peeking around the door, his eyes tightly closed.

'Yes.' I smiled, rolling my eyes.

'Ah well,' he sighed as he opened his. 'Can't blame a Chantry boy for trying to– Are you okay?' He stepped into the room quickly, shutting the door behind him and stepping towards me.

I blinked for a moment and felt the tears rolling down my cheeks. I wiped at them quickly, blinking rapidly to ensure no others would come. 'Yes!' I answered; my voice a little too high. 'I'm fine, thank you though.' He stopped in the middle of the room as he looked at me, unconvinced. 'I was just thinking of my family and friends.' I tried to smile.

'Oh.'

'I wanted to close the window – but I'm too small to reach.'

I moved to the beds as he went to the window to close it for me. The room was L-shaped and small, the beds shoved into the far end of the L, the fire at the bottom. I squeezed into the gap between the beds and thought that if they were a few inches bigger they'd be touching. I shook my head, wondering if Alistair was reciting the Chant of Light again as he realised how cosy our room was.

'It's bloody cold up here on the surface,' I told him as I climbed on the bed and tried to settle under the thin blankets. 'Mind checking the cupboard for another blanket please? Honestly, I have no idea how you Surfacers cope with only fires.'

'It's Solace!' his voice was muffled as he called back, as if he was inside the cupboard. 'You can't be that cold.'

'Orzammar is heated by a giant lava pit,' I called back.

'Point taken.' He came back around the corner unfolding a blanket, and threw it over me.

'Thanks.'

He sat on the end of the other bed and kicked off his boots before starting to unbuckle his breastplate. It fell to the floor with a loud clatter; he looked at me sheepishly.

'You explain to the others, especially Morrigan, who arranged the rooms for us, why we got kicked out.' I muttered as I rolled over in my bed, to face the wall, giving him some privacy to change.

'I… Right.'

I heard him divesting the rest of his armour and clothes before the sound of splashing came from the other end of the room as he used the water in the wash bowl to rid himself of the last two days travel on his skin.

'Alistair, can I ask you a question?'

'Ask away.' I peeked over the covers to take a look at him.

His back was broad, his muscles well defined, he had definitely been raised with a sword and a shield on his arm. His waist was slender and his behind and thighs…

'Nyra!' his voice admonished me as his head whipped around quickly. I felt myself blushing and muttering apologises, cursing myself for forgetting I was supposed to be speaking. He shook his head as I buried myself under the covers again.

'You said you were raised by an Arl; are you a noble then?' I heard the rustling of more clothes and assumed he was getting into his clean sleep-wear.

'No, I'm a bastard, not the nasty kind but the father-less kind.' His voice was getting nearer and I heard the bed next to me give way to his weight. 'My father was a soldier who got my mother pregnant – a serving girl at Arl Eamon's castle. She promised the Arl she would give me to the Chantry if she could continue to serve. My father was dismissed from the Arl's forces and my mother was given sanctuary. But she died during my birth – the Arl hadn't been alerted to her condition and it was too late to send for a healer. He felt so guilty he kept me. He married a young woman a few years later and she wasn't happy about the situation – rumours are always rife when there's a bastard born. Even though the staff knew who my father was, they whispered at the possibility of my being the Arl's son. The new Arlessa didn't like the rumours and eventually packed me off to the Chantry.'

His tale sounded rehearsed, I thought as I rolled onto my back and he blew out the candle; but the day had been long and my eyes struggled to stay open; the promise of sleep was finally welcoming…

o-O-o

The Genlock ran down the street sniffing the air, it could feel it, taste it already. The monster licked its lips as it turned another corner and ran along the street – it had to get there before anyone else, it was to be his and his alone.

The buildings burned around him, tingeing the sky red high above them, as the fleeing humans and elves screamed and ran in all directions. But even the stench of the smoke, of the burning flesh of those trapped within could not overpower the smell of it. It was so fresh, so new.

A woman ran into a path as she fled from a building screaming something in the human's tongue, but one of his brothers chased her down, grabbing her roughly and punching her hard before grabbing her hair and dragging her off.

He was close, he knew it… then he heard it.

He pushed open the door and smiled, his razor sharp teeth glittering in the fire that was already eating at the floor above them. He had to be quick if he wanted it to himself, but he'd still enjoy it, he'd still savour it.

Stepping over the bleeding women on the floor, who gargled on her own blood in protest of his presence, he smiled his toothy grin as the babe in the basket cried out.

He liked it when they were noisy.

o-O-o

'NO!' I woke up screaming. 'No, no!' My arms reached out in protest as I bolted upright in my bed.

'Nyra, it's okay.' Alistair was already at my side, sitting on my bed, waiting for me to wake up. Normally I wouldn't have questioned that, he always took first watch, but tonight we slept inside, there was no watch to take – why was he awake? And then the memory of the nightmare flew through my mind.

'Oh, no,' I whispered as my hand flew to my mouth. 'Alistair, it was horrible.'

'I know,' his voice just a whisper too. 'I saw it also.'

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. He hadn't shared any of the dreams I had experienced before tonight, why was now different?

'Lothering. I think- I think it's gone.' He shook his head sadly. In the light of the dying embers of the fire, I saw how empty he looked and wondered if that's how I looked each night after he woke me.

'There was a baby…' I said without thinking. 'It… I saw what it did…' my voice cracked and I heard him curse under his breath. His strong arms pulled me to him into a comforting hug.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I tried to wake up before he found it. I tried to wake you; I didn't want you to see that…'

'You knew that they do that?' I felt him nod against the top of my head as his arms tightened around me, and it was then that I realised that he was shaking. Slowly I slipped my arms around his waist, slowly rubbing his back, trying to calm him.

'The other Wardens and Duncan told me what they had seen and what had been passed down to them through the ages. I hadn't seen it myself.' He sighed. 'No one knows why they search for them in particular. I've heard they all like them, but that Genlocks are particularly sensitive to them.'

I closed my eyes tightly. I had a strong suspicion that I knew why; an unspoken practice within Orzammar was probably what had caused it, and I understood instantly why no other Warden from the Dwarva had given them the answer. How would a Surfacer understand…? How would Alistair look at me if I told him…?

'How long do we have?' I whispered against his warm bare chest.

'I don't know. It took them months to amass and move across the Wilds,' he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my ear, I shivered as his big hand unconsciously stroked my hip. 'We cut a good chunk of them down at Ostagar – they might have hit Lothering quickly to replenish their numbers.' He shuddered again. I gently pulled back to look him in the eye.

'We'll do this, Alistair.' I took his both his hands in mine and squeezed them tightly. 'Together we'll do this, I promise – unless I fall to them.' I heard him take in a sharp breath. 'And if I do, make sure you pick me up so we can carry on.' I tried smiling at him.

His hand reached up to cup my face, his thumb stroked my cheek. For a second I thought I saw the same look in his eyes as the first night I had woken up screaming and thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he dropped his hand, sighed and stood up.

'Nyra, I don't know how we're going to do this,' he confessed, running his hands through his hair as he paced the floor. 'I can't get past a lone Templar, what chance do I have with the real people in power?' He turned and looked at me; I imagined his eyes pleading with me, telling me to fix it, asking me to take the lead he so desperately wanted to shy away from.

'I'll sort it,' I sighed. 'I promise.' Inside I wondered just how many of these promises I could really keep.

I heard him release his own breath and watched the outline of his shoulders slumping in relief. He stood there for a moment before moving back to his bed. Now that his anguish was dealt with, I guess that he could go back to sleep.

'Alistair?' I lowered my voice back to a whisper.

'Something you desire?'

Yes, I thought, to be back in Orzammar as its princess and with no concern for what was happening up here, rejoicing in the lack of Darkspawn in the tunnels, and making plans to take it back-

'Nyra?'

'Will you hold me?' I whispered, surprised at myself. 'Just until I fall sleep. Please?'

'Nyra, I-'

'What I just saw, Alistair no one should ever even contemplate – I witnessed the worst of death, and I have seen much in my time. I need to feel life. I am not going to jump your bones, your virtue is safe.'

'Grey Warden's honour?' he asked, but I could already hear him lifting up his blankets and sitting up.

'Grey Warden's honour,' I promised as I felt my own blankets lift and his long, strong body climbed in next to me.

He wrapped his arms around me, as stiff as a board as I snuggled against him. I surmised he probably wouldn't sleep with me so close, but I didn't care. His heart beating against my cheek, the heat of his body and the strength in his arms all reminded me of life and what we were fighting to preserve.

For the first time in over two weeks, I had a perfect, dreamless sleep.

---

Solace is the seventh month of the Thedas Calendar. The Dragon Age Universe uses different months than our own, with Seasons + New Year's (I think that's what Annum means) and I've listed them below with what I think is the equivalent month.

As Ferelden is based on medieval England (yey!) I will be dictating the weather that they will have as they go around by the weather we have here in England. If it seems odd that we have blazing sunshine in spring and then floods in the middle of summer, that's true England for you!

The DA months from DA Wiki:

Months:

First Month (Jan): Wintermarch

Second Month (Feb): Guardian

Third Month (March): Drakonis

Fourth Month (April): Cloudreach

Fifth Month (May): Bloomingtide

Sixth Month (June): Justinian

Seventh Month (July): Solace

Eighth Month (Aug): August (guessing a writer ran out of ideas lol)

Ninth Month (Sept): Kingsway

Tenth Month (Oct): Harvestmere

Eleventh Month (Nov): Firstfall

Twelfth Month (Dec): Haring

Annums:

First Day – appears to be New Years, the first day of the new year

Wintersend – Beginning of Spring

Summerday – Beginning of Summer

Funalis – Beginning of Autumn

Satinalia – Beginning of Winter