WARNING: This is a Darkfic that has progressed to Hurt/Comfort. This story contained several explicit subjects in previous chapters and will deal with PTSD and rape/non-con/abuse aftermath going forward. If you have a problem reading about any of these subjects and/or if these are triggering for you, for your own sake, please do not read ahead.

A/N: I've had most of this written for a long time (since before this was published actually), but it has gone through a lot of editing because I wasn't happy with it. I'm still not happy with it, but I figured it was about time I posted it. Sorry for the wait if you've been following this story/version, and please accept this paltry offering of a chapter.

When Alistair awoke, he was again taken by a momentary confusion. There was sky, grayish orange in the early dawn, and warmth from a fire. The air was crisp and cool, but he did not feel cold at all. No stone. No bars. He sat up sharply, a soft woolen blanket falling from his shoulders. No stone! No bars! Everything was so open and maybe the dwarves were right and he'd fall right up into that gaping sky. His breath came in short gasps. Not enough air, or maybe too much, but whatever it was, he couldn't breathe.

A soft hand touched his, and he flinched. He looked up into a pair of warm, blue-green eyes. "Easy, emma lath. It's okay. You're safe."

He stared at her, his panicked mind unable to comprehend. "But… you're here…"

Tangi nodded. "I am. And you're here with me."

"But…" His eyes darted around the camp. "I was dreaming. I know I was dreaming b-because you were here and you can't be."

She shook her head slowly, taking his hands into hers. "No, beloved. This is real."

It was his turn to shake his head. "No, no, no." He curled into himself, but he could not bring himself to pull his hands away from her. Dream or not, he hungered for her touch. "I'll wake up in my cell, and I'll be alone again, and I don't want good dreams if it means waking up there and losing you again…"

Tangi released his hands, and he whimpered with the loss of them. Instead, she spread her arms wide in gentle invitation. "Is… is it all right if I hold you?"

Alistair let out a shuddering sigh and nodded.

She pulled him into her arms as she had the night before, stroking his hair to soothe him. "Just breathe, Alistair. It's okay, it's okay." She pressed several light kisses to his temple. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but I swear to you this is real."

And Alistair believed her. Tangerine would never lie to him.

It was some time before his breathing calmed. He pulled away from her; the idea of being so close to someone was suddenly too much to comprehend. "I… I think I'm all right now," he said, a slight tremor still in his voice. "I'm sorry. It's just… A lot's happened, and…" He floundered, unable to find the words. He wiped at his eyes that burned and watered from the light of the fire.

She nodded. "It's overwhelming. I know. I can't imagine how it must feel for you. But take your time." She considered him for a moment. "The fire is too bright for you, isn't it. Do you want a handkerchief to cover your eyes?"

He shook his head. "I… no, I want… I want to see you."

"Okay, but let me know if it gets to be too much for you." She got to her feet.

Alistair looked up at her in alarm. "Where are you going?"

Tangi gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll just be on the other side of the fire, making breakfast."

He relaxed and nodded, feeling a flush of excitement at the prospect of food.

While Tangi was busy with cooking, he looked down at himself and found that, sometime while he slept, he had been scrubbed clean once more, and clothed as well. It was a strange feeling, to be wearing clothes after so long going without. He shifted in the light linen garments, unused to both the warmth they provided and the pull of the cloth as he moved. It was strange. The clothes were only fabric and thread, but in wearing them, he felt… almost human again.

Though Tangi had assured him many times now that it wasn't a dream, Alistair still felt like a ghost, lingering in a world where he no longer belonged. Alistair recalled mornings just like this, waking by a campfire with Tangerine preparing breakfast and tea. Mornings that seemed a lifetime ago. He looked at the pot with interest, the smells emanating from it making his mouth water.

"Give this a try," Tangi said, spooning the contents of the pot into a bowl. "I meant to make some for you when we got back, but you fell asleep, and I hadn't the heart to wake you." She stood and crossed around the campfire to him. "It's… kind of like a soup. It's made from ground almonds and halla's milk." She handed the bowl to him. "Try not to drink it too fast. There's plenty."

Despite her word of caution, Alistair gulped down the warm soup almost as soon as the bowl reached his fingertips. The soup was a marvel. Even when he was relatively well-fed while servicing Anora, the food was never hot or freshly cooked. It went down smoothly, warming his insides.

"Do you like it?" she asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.

He nodded, and held out the bowl to her.

"I'll get you another bowl in a minute. Let that one settle."

He nodded again, though he desperately wanted to eat more right that second. As always when he had something to eat, the Grey Warden hunger roared to life and gnawed painfully at his insides. He licked his lips to savor the few drops that still remained there. "It's… sweet."

Tangi nodded. "I added some honey and nutmeg for flavor. It's pretty bland otherwise. There's a bit of elfroot in it too, to help you heal." She went to retrieve the pot and brought it over to refill his bowl. "It's supposed to be easier on your stomach, while giving your body the nourishment it craves. Our clan used to make it for some of the city elves who took refuge with us. The Keeper said their stomachs were so used to starving, they didn't know what to do with food when they got it." Her face was drawn and sad when she handed the bowl to him.

He greedily slurped down the soup and she refilled it again, making him wait a few moments between each bowl. Soon the large pot was nearly empty, and his stomach was full.

Alistair realized she had been watching him eat, and he looked up at her shyly.

"Do you feel a little better?"

He wasn't hungry anymore. That in itself was more than he could have hoped for not even a day ago. "Maker, yes," he sighed.

She gave him a thin smile. "I'm glad." She prepared the last bowlful of soup for herself and sipped quietly.

It wasn't enough. He wanted to hear more from her. Months of solitude, over a year thinking she was dead… Her words were like the honeyed soup, sweet and nourishing. "Thank you," he told her earnestly. "Thank you so much for everything. For the food, for cleaning me up. For the rescue most of all."

"I couldn't just leave you there, emma lath. I… I came as soon as I could." She sighed. "I only wish I could have come sooner."

"How did you even know I was alive?"

Tangi got to her feet. "I'll tell you about it while we travel. We're a good distance from the city, but we shouldn't linger. Once Anora finds out that you're the prisoner who escaped, she will not rest until you're found."

Alistair nodded, feeling a chill down his spine. He tried to get up as well, but cried out when his legs seized with pain. Tangi ran to his side. "I don't… I don't think I can stand," he told her, clutching at one of his thighs.

Her mouth thinned to a line as she looked him over. "It's all the running we did last night," she muttered, almost to herself. "Your legs had been chained up like that since you were taken?"

He nodded.

"I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. I'm sorry, Alistair."

In the time before his imprisonment, Alistair would have rushed to tell her that she was being silly, that she did what she had to do, that they never would have escaped if she hadn't pushed him. But even though he wanted to reassure her, he could not find the words, and the moment had passed.

Tangi slung his arm over her shoulders and scooped him up into her arms. He felt a blush creep up his neck to his ears at the closeness of her. He studied her face, trying to imprint her features into his mind once more, to replace the perpetual image of her terrified eyes at the Landsmeet. He was surprised to see unshed tears in the corners of her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked after a moment.

She took him to the head of the aravel, and pushed him up onto the driver's bench. "Nothing," she said in a tiny voice. "Just… you're a lot lighter than you used to be." She gave him a smile, but it did not touch her eyes. "Will you be all right out here? Would you rather travel inside the aravel? I imagine it's a little overwhelming being out in the open."

Alistair swallowed, reminded of the now pale blue sky above them. "It is, but… I don't… I can't…" He cursed inwardly, hating how stagnant his mind had become. She waited patiently for him to finish. "I don't want to be alone," he whimpered.

She nodded. "Don't worry. I'll always be nearby. There are just a few things I need to do before we can leave."

He waited while she broke down the camp and hitched the halla to the aravel. It did not take long before Tangi climbed up onto the bench next to him and whistled to the halla to be on their way.