"Maly. Maaaaly,"" the figure before her drug out her name as he laughed and reached for her arm, "Nice to know you've finally decided to trust me just a little."
"Hush, Templar," she swatted at him, trying to keep her lips from twitching, "I know your lot are a sneaky bunch."
He grinned boyishly down at her, "How can we be sneaky in all of this armor," he asked, reaching over to tug a curl that had slipped from behind her ear, "Besides, I like Maly better than Malaya. It makes you more approachable."
Maly frowned, swatting at him once more. He held out his hand, palm up, and, slowly, a rose formed. It lay there, glaringly red against the dusty colors of the Fade. She drew in a breath, preparing to vanquish the dream but he held up a finger.
"You never seem to want to talk to me, Malaya," Alistair continued to hold the rose out, "Why is that, I wonder?"
His smile hardened and then shifted into an expression of hatred as he crushed the rose he held, "You know you'll become this soon, Mage," he laughed as his face continued to contort and stretch into that of a hurlock. Maly stepped back, eyes widening as Alistair moved closer.
"Do you really think you can escape this?"
"Leave me be," Maly yelled, trying to dispel the dream. She looked around frantically as the Fade slipped away and only an empty campsite remained. Bodies of friends were strewn about as though a child had left its dolls when playtime was finished. There was Sten, the once proud Qunari, broken and bleeding. Lelianna, Zevran, Oghren, Etzian, Wynne, even Morrigan and Shale… All were lying there, covered in blood, faces drawn into expressions of terror, bodies crushed.
Alistair only smirked as his face flashed between his own and that of the Hurlock. He shook his head as he reached for Maly's arms, "Oh no, my darling, that is one desire I will not allow you. You see the waste here," he jerked his head towards the camp as Maly stared, "That is what you caused. You did this to them."
"No, no, they all lived through the battles. The only one that died was," she stopped, unable to finish. The feelings came flooding into her, rocking her back a step.
"Yes, my dear, the only one that died was me," slowly Alistair's face re-knit, becoming the image of the boy to whom she had once given her heart. He wrapped an arm around Maly's shoulders, studying the campsite, "But, you killed our friends as surely as if you had plunged a knife into their hearts. Why did you push them aside, Maly? Why did you shut yourself off from everyone? That's not what I wanted when I saved you."
"How dare you reprimand me," Maly wrenched herself from his arm and spun to face him, eyes lighting with fire, "How dare you, of all people, speak of responsibility to those you love, after what you did?"
"Do you hate me so much," Alistair's voice was wistful, "Did your heart die on that tower so long ago," he turned away as the campsite shimmered and faded into the room they had once shared at Aemon's estate.
"I only wanted you to be safe. To live."
Maly swallowed against the tears she had never shed for him, "You left me, twice in a less than two days. How could I," her voice caught, "I couldn't go through that again. I had to harden myself. There was so much to do, so much to rebuild. I couldn't let myself think."
"You couldn't let yourself feel," a hand rested gently on her shoulder, "And so you made a deal with him."
"Please," she begged, "Don't…"
Alistair smiled wryly, "I wish things…"
Maly shook her head violently, "No, don't say it."
He shimmered from view, "If you are unwilling to deal with me, then I have to let them return," she caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes before she was flung into the Dark Roads.
Around her, she heard the rasping of rotting flesh against stone. She smelt the Taint of them as they moved ever closer. Their voices rose in joy as they saw the Grey Warden for their feast. Bodies leapt, flying through the air towards her with preternatural speed. All she could do was scream before they knocked her to the roughly hewn stones.
"Shh, shh," arms tightened and held her close as the voice hummed nonsense words in her ears. Maly tried to struggle, but the grip, though gentle, was too strong. Her body ached as the years she had shed in the Fade settled back onto her shoulders.
"Please," she begged, hating the weakness in her voice, "Please," she could not say much more as she began to shake uncontrollably. Seeing him, as though not a moment had passed since that last kiss on the tower… It had rocked her to her very soul. Maly gave in to the sobs and let her head drop as they ravaged her body and heart.
Kind hands continued to stroke her hair and back, as if she were but a child. How long she sat there, unable to see beyond the tears and grief, she did not know. There were decades of tears to release. And yet, the fingers stroking her hair never stopped.
Slowly, the sobs began to quiet themselves. Maly took a deep breath and raised her head, looking around with wide eyes. She was, of all things, in Jaxon's lap! She blinked slowly at the young Warden. He flushed and shrugged, carefully settling her back into her bed and drawing the blankets up.
"What, should I have left you alone with those terrors," he asked, his voice defensive.
Maly reached out a trembling hand and brushed his arm, "Thank you."
He nodded and offered her a glass of water, "Drink."
She flushed as her hands refused to hold the cup without shaking. Jaxon raised it to her lips and she drank greedily. He set it aside and studied her, "You know, Maly, if you need to talk," he voice trailed off. She looked so frail against the pillows. Her eyes were sunken in and her cheeks drawn.
"I don't know what I would say," she tried to smile, "I had a bad dream, as is customary."
"I've seen other Wardens go through the ending nightmares. They were never this extreme. I couldn't wake you!"
"And I couldn't free myself," Maly sighed and slowly shook her head. She was weary and heart-sore. "They are getting worse and worse, Jaxon. I don't know how much more I can take before I lose myself in them."
"Is that possible," he asked in surprise.
"Perhaps," Maly stared into the fire that was slowly dieing in the grate, "People get lost in the Fade all the time."
"Just don't do anything stupid," Jaxon cautioned.
Maly's eyes fluttered shut as she sank back against the pillows, "It's too late, my dear boy, I already did."