Josslyn and Her Amazing Multicolored Dreamscape

Joss stared down at the courtyard of Warden's Keep where it appeared half the population of Ferelden was scurrying around the large bonfire that was now blazing. From her vantage point, the people reminded her of a trail of ants that she and Joseph had discovered in the tower one rainy day. The trail wound through the curved halls and up the stairs, a steady stream of tiny black dots that appeared to originate from the stone itself and end in Godwin's sock drawer. Apparently Godwin was a secret hoarder of all things sweet, much to the delight of the ants.

So too did the Dryden clan appear as they snaked their way out of the tunnels and up the steep hill to the courtyard. So many children and teens, several sets of twins, young and old alike, crowded around the fire as they set their bundles down to greet each other. It was a scene often repeated as the steady stream of Drydens arrived. Where in the Maker had they all been to come out in such large numbers? Had some mental note been sent through the ether to tell them the keep was safe now?

A stinging, brief moment of pain, unexpected and unwelcomed, snaked through Joss as well, looking down at the family. She missed Joseph. Still. After seven years the ache was no less sharp. Well now was a horrible time to get all maudlin, Joss scolded herself. Not that there was actually a good time to get all maudlin. But the middle of a Blight was probably right up there with the worst possible times to get maudlin.

With the Veil mended and the dead, semi-dead and walking dead truly dead, the snow that had covered Soldier's Peak was beginning to melt. Quickly. The children, copious amounts of them, were dismayed to see the end of it, their snowmen and snowballs melting like ice thrown in a frying pan.

"Sit Nive Cadunt," Joss whispered, her fingers weaving a spell. "Aere Fridigo."**

She watched with a small smile when the younger children began to clap in delight as snowflakes began to fall. The adults shivered and moved closer to the bonfire but the children began to dance and yell in excitement as the snow began to cover the ground.

"You're a softie," Sister Leliana of Looney Lane cooed as she came to watch the children.

"Nonsense, I'm keeping them entertained so they stay outdoors rather than underfoot," Joss denied, mildly irritated at having been found out by the chantry's resident nutcase.

"Believe what you will, Josslyn, but I see through you now," the chantry sister said, wagging her finger at Joss playfully. Joss wondered briefly how loudly Leliana the Toad would croak but before she could find out Alistair came into the room wearing the air of guilt and gloom only the chantry-raised could wear.

"What's wrong, Alistair?" Sister Butterflies and Rainbows asked.

"I killed a man with a jar of jam, what do you think is wrong?" he replied grimly, coming to stand beside Joss. He looked out at the children playing and sighed. "I bet they don't want a murdering ex-templar helping them build snowmen," he added sadly. Poor dear looked as miserable as a jilted bride.

"Nonsense. They wouldn't be here if that old ghoul was still alive, he'd have scared the freckles off their faces. But," Joss continued with a hint of a smile, "if you feel compelled to honor the man, build an Avernus snowman."

Alistair raised horrified eyebrows. "You are a sick woman, Joss."

"So you've mentioned before. But I think there's now enough snow on the ground for even his ears if you decide to build him."

With a guilty grin, Alistair quickly made his way to the door and, without a backward glance, disappeared. Less than a minute later he joined the group of children playing in the freshly fallen snow.

"And he, ladies and gentlemen, is all that stands between the Archdemon and all of Ferelden," she chuckled, watching him cavort somewhat clumsily in his armor. He was like a mabari puppy, all feet and uncoordinated limbs. As if reading her thoughts Styx growled low in his throat before returning to his nap.

Turning, she saw that Leliana had departed and Joss now stood in an empty room. Which didn't stay empty for long. It must be the "Hello, enter and disturb me, I'm not doing anything important," sign on the door.

"Ah there you are, my lovely Warden. Oh, tsk, tsk. Such a frown. At your age those lines can become permanent," Zev chided, his catlike grace bringing him to stand beside her.

"Why thank you, Zevran. Those rumors of you being a real lady's man were not understated," she replied dryly, while self-consciously reaching up to smooth out the wrinkles.

Zev threw his head back with a laugh. "You, my dear, I like. Sit down and tell me what makes you so unhappy. I have been told I am a very good listener."

"By those same people who say you are a real lady's man?" she snickered, moving to the fire and warming her hands.

"Hmmm, where do I start? Perhaps with Sister Zippity Do Da? How long before she goes howling-at-the-moon mad? She prays with a maniacal glee while she kills people and afterwards she smiles as if the Maker had just bestowed the most blessed orgasm on her. And have you heard her compare the shapes and colors of her bruises to butterflies? She is a few pearls shy of a necklace, that one."

"Perhaps she is happy to be away from her celibate brothers and sisters?" Zev suggested helpfully. Well, celibacy had been known to drive men mad. Perhaps there was a bit of truth in his remark. Joss shook her head and continued.

"Then there is the Swamp Witch with her bodaciously bewitching bosom that never, ever, ever jiggles. At. All. How is that possible? What foul magic does she use for such a feat?

"More importantly, why would her mother send her along on this mad journey? Flemeth may have appeared to us as a batty old woman. She was not. The power emanating from her was extraordinary. Yet how canny can she be? She saved the two most junior Wardens in Ferelden, the ones who knew the least about a Blight and how to stop it. Was that on purpose?

"And what does Morrigan know about why her mother sent her? It's not like I can ask her, she squawks and flies off whenever I try. She is in permanent bitch mode and I can't imagine why. Or rather, I can guess but I'd rather not," Joss trailed off and scrubbed at her face.

"You sure you want me to continue? I've barely started," she added, watching Zev's golden eyes widen slightly before they crinkled at the corners, his smile teasing.

"Yet these things, they do not really bother you. These are not the reason for the sadness in your eyes, although you would wish me to think so."

The Antivan Crow had sharp eyes, Joss gave him that. She shrugged. "The Queen Mage who travels with us is not my favorite mage. In fact, at the risk of sounding like the heroine of a particularly badly written adventure tale, she killed my brother. Or, more accurately, she is the reason Greagoir had to kill him. I need her healing skills but she is possessed of a spirit, who is currently benevolent but that can change rapidly. When that happens, if not caught quickly enough, Grandma Abomination can wreak havoc on an unsuspecting population."

Joss scrubbed at her face again and then smiled. "And I'm done talking. I sound like a whining child. Thank you for listening."

Zev frowned at her, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I will make the sacrifice of discovering the truth behind Morrigan's magical mounds, I assure you. As to Wynne's spirit, we shall watch for such a thing and I will not hesitate to kill her if necessary, though it will be a shame that a woman still so fit and firm has to die."

Rubbing at the tension at the base of her neck, Joss shook her head. "Do you really think a woman nearing sixty is so fit and firm on her own? Amazing what a spirit can do for the female form."

"That is disturbingly erotic," Zev replied with a wolfish grin.

Joss shuddered. And then shuddered again. "Or just, you know, plain old disturbing."

With a chuckle, Zev left, vowing to discover Morrigan's secret. She only hoped he would. She could use some good news.

Cathair, smiling triumphantly, was the next visitor to enter what Joss had hoped would be a private room. The recruit held a stack of journals in her arms and she put them on the rickety desk that had once belonged to Sophia Dryden. "These might help. Found them in that old bastard's room. Looks like a bunch of drivel but I reckon a mage might figure it out."

"Yes, all mages speak the same language. Much like all soldiers fight the same way," Joss replied dryly, staring at the half dozen journals.

"Oh. Point taken, Commander."

"Please don't call me that. I'm not a commander. I'm a mage. We aren't allowed to rule over anything or anyone." Not that she believed that propaganda but she also didn't believe she was the best suited for a leadership role.

Cathair's grey eyes narrowed and she replied firmly, "You are a Grey Warden now. I reckon that entitles you to rule over other Grey Wardens of lesser rank."

Three hours and two bowls of succulent beef stew later, Joss closed the last journal, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Avernus had created a potent new Joining ritual with less chance of death that apparently gave the Warden a longer lifespan. Not, she decided remembering the man's ears, that she wanted to live to be two hundred years old. Still, there was now no excuse for not performing the ritual on Jowan, Cathair and Randal. She was relieved that the Joining promised new power and a better chance of survival but with her luck she'd kill all three with the Drink of Death.

Remembering her own Joining, where two out of three recruits had died, did nothing to alleviate her growing nervousness. She longed to be able to sit and talk with Teagan about it. He was a very rational and calm man. He would know just what to say to put her at ease. Or so she told herself. It was her excuse to go in and muck around in the Fade.

The halls of the keep were drafty as she made her way to Zevran's room. She tapped on the door before entering, half expecting to see him with a pair of women cozying up to him but he was honing his blade, his hair unbound and looking thoughtfully at the fire while his hands worked effortlessly.

"There is something else you wish of me? Perhaps to warm your bed?"

"Tempting, but I'm going to pass. I do need your help though. If you'll come back to my room, I'll explain."

Zevran was up and at her side in seconds. "Whatever you have need of, my dear, I am your man, without reservation. Although I think I would prefer if you at least consider my proposals before rejecting them," he continued as they made their way back to Josslyn's room.

"Well, if it is any consolation, you can watch me go to bed," she replied with a grin. She liked Zevran. Of all the companions now traveling with her, he was rapidly becoming her favorite and most trusted friend. That should worry her, considering he was a whoreson, by his own admission, as well as an Antivan assassin. But underneath the smooth and rakish façade was a surprisingly good man with common sense to spare. Some day she would wrest his story from him, she was sure there was one there to wrest.

"I am going to enter the Fade and I need you to watch me. If I become possessed you'll need to kill me. Quickly. Not that I expect that to happen," she added quickly at his sharp intake of breath. "Not to worry. I'll let you know if I need killing. Probably by trying to kill or seduce you. Either will be a sign that I've become home to a demon and killing me will be a mercy."

"You say Leliana is crazy but really, my lovely Warden, you are not too very far from it yourself," Zev finally said and she wasn't going to dispute that. She had never claimed to be sane, actually. Although, Joss decided, she was less crazy than Leliana of the Holy Visions.

"You do not need lyrium?" he asked in surprise as she closed her eyes.

"Not really. I use it if I have a specific destination in mind but not when I'm going in to create my own Fade."

Zev sat down in a chair that he'd pulled close to the bed and carefully unsheathed the newly honed dagger. "Your own Fade? No. No, do not tell me, it is best I not know these things."

Sighing, she closed her eyes and concentrated on entering the Fade. She had learned not to find her target by entering their dream. She had done that with Joseph only to discover he was having a particularly erotic dream about Callie, a shy young mage who evidently wasn't so shy in dreams. Both Joss and Joseph had blushed for days over that. From then on, she had created her own Fade dream and called out to whoever she was looking for, guiding them to her little spot of the dreamscape.

Those mages who had the ability to shape dreams and manipulate dreamers were called Fade Walkers. The Chasind, she had learned, called them Dream Walkers. In the Imperium they were known as Somniari and were highly sought after mages. Irving had offered to send her to the Tevinter Imperium to study the Somniari but she wasn't about to go to the Blood Mage Capital of Thedas to learn about the dark side of walking the Fade.

Slipping into the raw Fade, she began to shape the terrain. A slight hill, covered in summer grass. Greener, she thought, eying the pale green until it became a deep, bright green. A tree, but what kind? Oak? Why not, they were easy enough. She continued on, adding a burbling brook with several cascades, a bright blue sky and a balmy wind. She added a few birds and butterflies but, reminded of Leliana, she did away with both. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of her companions. She spread a blanket on the ground, set the sun a bit higher in the sky and then began to chant softly.

She heard him before she spied him. He was whistling as he came over the rise of the hill, a bow slung jauntily over his shoulder. He was wearing hunting greens and leading a big brute of a horse that Joss hastily did away with. Teagan blinked at that, and then blinked again as a lazy smile curved his mouth upward.

"Josslyn! I didn't expect to find you here," he murmured, coming to pull her to her feet. "You look lovely."

Of course she did. It was a dream. No cuts, smudges or blood marred her this time; no cheese handprint on her left (or right) breast and she was wearing a soft wool gown. She had dreamt her hair into immaculate ringlets and shaped herself as well as the Fade. And felt dirty and dishonest for doing so. Sighing regretfully, she let her hair reform into its customary haphazard chignon but she absolutely refused to add cuts, smudges or blood smears to her face. Or cheese to her breast.

"You look like you've been hunting," she replied and, if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine his arms really were around her. The problem with Fade Walking was that it wasn't reality but it was a damned close approximation. She pulled Teagan down onto the blanket and bade him put his head in her lap. He did so gladly, grinning up at her with playful blue eyes.

"Why are we here? Shouldn't you be in Denerim by now?" he asked suddenly as he settled his head in her lap.

"Yes, well, I was sidetracked, which is why we're here."

"Where is 'here' exactly?"

She tried to explain, in thirty words or less, where they were. She'd found that non-mages tended to become very nervous when she explained that she could enter dreams and visit dreamers. Silly buggers. Teagan did tense up for a minute but after studying her for another minute, his tension melted away and he seemed to accept her words. No wonder I adore him already, he's sexy and extremely nonjudgmental.

"Ah. Allow me to thank you first. Niall is a marvel. He has been helping heal the injured villagers as well as spending time talking to Connor, though he has said some very odd things about you," Teagan commented, his smile still as warm and engaging as she remembered.

Joss felt the clank as her stomach sank. Perhaps sending Niall to Redcliffe had been an unwise idea. Their past had been colorful, flaming red dye aside. "Nothing too odd, I hope."

"Did you really write a paper highlighting the reasons why Templars and Mages should cohabitate?"

Joss wondered how much she could bend the truth in the Fade, where truth was fluid and transient. She also wondered how she could repay Niall. "It seems so unreasonable a thing when you put it that way. We already live together anyway, it just seems the logical next step, rather than all that repressed sexual tension and those closet trysts. If the templars were less afraid of mages and their abilities, mages would be less afraid of having their heads removed. Literally. It seems the perfect solution to me."

Teagan let out a huff of laughter and his eyes narrowed. "You are certainly not like anyone I've ever been with before," he said in way of a reply. Was that a good thing? A bad thing? A who cares thing? Joss wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"I get that a lot," she finally said when it was apparent he was waiting for her reply. And then groaned. Well that hadn't made her sound like a slut. At. All. Obviously she was still unfit for human consumption. "I mean, thank you?"

Teagan chuckled and reached up to graze her cheek with the pad of his thumb. It would be so easy to let the dream unfold in a purely sexual way but she was oddly reluctant to let it. Gah, what was wrong with her? Fade sex was the next best thing to real sex. Obviously the Joining had done something sinister to her conscience.

"So, why did you bring me here? And will I remember this when I wake up?"

"I miss you," Joss heard herself confess and then wondered if she could reset the dream and start again. She sounded like a simpering idiot. A simpering slutty idiot. How could he not be enamored of her obvious charms?

"No more than I miss you, milady," Teagan responded seriously and sat up, moving to take her in his arms. His lips felt almost real as they coaxed her lips apart and his tongue made itself at home in her mouth. She moaned. And then broke away, wondering if she had moaned in reality. Zev would no doubt let her know if she had. Wonderful.

"I…if we proceed down this road you will wake to a very sticky situation," she finally said, and discovered she could feel the heat of a blush even in the Fade. "And as far as remembering, you probably won't be sure if you dreamt this or not. Well, you did dream it so I guess you can say you'll remember."

"Tell me what's troubling you, Josslyn," he said finally and she found herself babbling on and on about the Joining, responsibility, her companions and everything else. One more reason for Teagan to run, not walk, to the nearest exit, Joss thought when she was finally able to regain control of her wayward mouth.

"My dear, I am sorry I can't be there to help you. You must go through with the Joining, regardless of the outcome. Both Cathair and Randal volunteered even knowing there were risks involved and you conscripted Jowan. If you don't make him take the Joining, he'll face a trial with Isolde having right of high justice."

So reasonable and calm. She wasn't sure if she should slap him or hug him. He just made everything seem too rational when it didn't feel rational. Andraste's twisted knickers! Was this what it felt like to fall in love? To grow up and actually want to do the right thing? The noble thing. She glared at Teagan.

"This is all your fault," she growled and could feel tears burning like hot embers on her cheeks. Damn it. But he was gently wiping the tears away and she let him, weakling that she was.

"I'm sure I'm to blame, I'm just not sure what exactly I'm to blame for?" Teagan soothed. Damn it again. Couldn't the man be a pig? Did he have to be so damned noble?

"I have to get back, it will be morning soon and you do not want to be yanked forcibly from the Fade," she finally muttered, remembering his poor brown boots and the indignity they'd suffered when she had been yanked too quickly from the Fade.

"I've sent a letter to my seneschal. He's expecting your arrival at my estate. It isn't very big but it will be more comfortable than the Gnawed Noble Tavern," Teagan began and Joss interrupted him with a sigh.

"You are too nice. You know that, right?" she asked.

"Noblesse Oblige," he replied with a grin. "I can afford to be nice."

"A shame more nobles don't feel that way," Joss muttered dolefully, thinking of those who had come to the tower. She slowly stood up. No need to explain to Teagan why she was not overly fond of the nobility.

They started walking down the hill, arm in arm. Joss warned him that at the bottom of the hill he would re-enter his own dream and she would wake up. He stopped midway down the hill.

"I love what you've done with the place," he said with a sweep of his arm to include the burbling creek, the oak tree, the dancing wildflowers and swaying grass; their newly designed dreamscape. "If we don't meet here again soon, know that I am thinking of you, to the detriment of my work," he said seriously and then captured her lips with his before fading away.

Joss woke with a start. Zev, sitting quietly beside the bed, gave her a knowing grin.

"You made the most delicious noises, my saucy minx. You must tell Zevran all about your dream."


A/N: When I created Travis in The Lion's Den and made him a Chasind Dream Walker I knew that Joss would have that ability too. Imagine my delight when DA2's mythos had such things as well, affirming that Somniari, or Dream Walkers exist.
For those who asked: Yes, more information on Joseph will be forthcoming. Hopefully in the next chapter or two.
**Josslyn's spell was: Let the snow fall. Cold air.