Alistair sat by the fire, knees folded to his chest, the mabari hound curled up next to him. He absentmindedly patted the hound's head, very gently, eyes on the campfire with his cloak wrapped around him. He sighed, looked up at the clear night sky and wondered when sleep would finally take him over.

Some nights, he would doze off and his companions often had to shake him awake. Some nights he would be wide awake, and he would always sit by the campfire contemplating the future, the present, the past, the food they've eaten, the number of darkspawn he killed, or even fuss over not washing his socks for nobody was going to smell them anyway. Sometimes he would merely think about nothing and just admire the crackling of the fire and the hum of the trees. This night was one of those nights, where he can't think of anything and he could only let his mind wander. He found solace in it sometimes. Other times, it completely unsettled him and he would fall over the rabbit hole of dread and it would take him a while to crawl out of it.

There was a bustle of movement on the tent across from him and he waited, seeing his fellow Warden, Arleea, come out with her arms wrapped around herself. She blinked several times, studying Alistair through the flames, cracks echoing loudly in the night. She squinted in the dark but eventually smiled upon realizing who had been watching her. Alistair grinned.

"Can't sleep?" he asked as she took up her usual spot across from him and began warming her hands by the fire. Her dark hair flew softly through the breeze, locks nearly covering her face for a while, and in that moment Alistair managed to catch a glimpse of her pointed ears.

"I was asleep," she muttered. "I had another dream."

"Did you see them again?" Alistair asked, the grin instantly leaving his face.

Arleea withdrew her hands and crossed her arms, moving a few inches closer to the fire. She smiled and shook her head.

"No," she answered. "It had nothing to do with darkspawn." Her eyes lifted, finding him once more. "I saw Tamlen. He was a close friend of mine, back when I was still with my clan. I was reaching out for him. He was about to touch this huge mirror that caused my illness, before Duncan brought me to Ostagar. There was a flash of light soon as Tamlen touched the mirror." She shuddered. "And then I awoke."

Alistair said nothing but kept watch. Arleea was looking back and he felt that same tug on his insides whenever their eyes made contact. He recalled the first time he met her — he wasn't so impressive back then, and it only made it funnier due to the fact that she readily told him about how strange he was for a human. That marked his interest in her and he certainly became more intrigued, for she rarely talked about herself, and when she did, there was always that distant look in her eyes as if she recalled the memories of someone else. It was almost as if she was trying to push these memories in the back of her head to hide the pain which, as a matter of fact, she did badly. Alistair knew because he was equally bad at it too.

"You miss them," he muttered finally. Arleea turned back to the fire. "I know you do."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," she said quietly, causing him to stare with one eyebrow raised.

"Why would you say that?"

Arleea straightened up and rubbed at her arms. "So it would be less painful," she said. "I've never been away from my clan. Sometimes I wake up in the morning thinking I hear their voices and I always exit my tent realizing I am no longer with them." She heaved a sigh, wheeled her head to her right, and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, stifling a hollow chuckle. "I understand that this is not a desirable topic to talk about."

"You do know I'm all ears if you need them," Alistair reminded. "You always listen whenever there's something I need to talk about, even if they're sometimes pointless. You can tell me anything, you know."

Arleea beamed and nodded, eyes still shining. Alistair was almost tempted to approach her and wipe away her tears. She always was a force of nature, often refusing to be found weak and broken and vulnerable — and it was always something he admired about her, and gave her his full respect. However, during the rare times she allowed herself a moment of weakness, it clawed, tore at him to the core. He could not look at her whenever she was sad and anguished without feeling the pain himself.

This was one of those rare times.

"What about you?" she asked. "What are you doing here wide awake?"

"Oh, you know," Alistair said, turning back to the mabari hound. "Sleep has denied me, again. Pluto here has been keeping me company."

Arleea snorted and watched the hound sleep soundly.

"Yes," she said. "I can see that."

"Oh, you can laugh all you want. Your faithful dog is a very good listener and I assure you, he already knows my entire life story in the Chantry. He even knows the names of every brother and sister I pissed off during my time in the Order."

"Hmm. You must be a legend by now."

"I take pride in it."

Arleea laughed, and it made Alistair freeze, enjoying the delightful sound of it. She got up to her feet and dusted the dirt off her trousers.

"I am certain you are," she teased, turning back to her tent, then paused. She craned over her shoulder to look at him and said, "You've always assured me that I can rely on you, Alistair. I am grateful."

Alistair nodded and smiled. "We're all we've got. I know we have our friends here, but you and I are the only Wardens left, at least here in Ferelden. We have to look out for one another."

"We do," Arleea agreed. "I hope this isn't an odd thing to say, but . . . I wouldn't have survived this far without you. I will always be glad I met you."

He was speechless at this. He did not have to say anything, however, for Arleea already returned to her tent bidding him good night. He crawled back to his own tent an hour later but remained awake, listening to the still-crackling flames of the campfire outside.

For the first time, his mind wandered at the thought that maybe there was a possible future with her. There was still the Blight to deal with, of course, but . . . the very thought fueled him.

This is also my first time writing a Dragon Age fic, and I really enjoy it so far! It isn't without its challenges as the characters are extremely diverse, especially in personality, that at times it can be really difficult to write them. I tried (still trying) my best to make sure these characters remain faithful to the source material, and if anything seems off, please do tell me and I will try my best to correct the mistakes. If I happen to find that it doesn't match what I had in mind, please know that I will still take serious note on your critiques as I want to improve my writing.

I named my mabari as Pluto since I still have this old stuffed dog I still sleep next to and they share the same name, so I just thought why not? ;)

Yes, I'm 24 and I still have stuffed toys, don't judge :v