WARNING: Possible trigger for physical abuse!

AN: Sorry about the delay in updating. I just started working full-time again, while still staying at my part-time job and trying to parent a toddler on my off time. It's been interesting! Big thanks to sagacious_rage for being my beta and sounding board, as always. Will try not to take so long with chapter 10!

Daveth blinked and groaned as his eyes focused against the bright light streaming in through his window. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before bolting upright, suddenly aware that he had no idea where he was. He looked around the room and felt his stomach drop. He was in Selwood. He was home.

He swung his legs to the floor and stood up cautiously, pressing his palms against his eyes. Everything was so fuzzy, he could barely remember what he had being doing the night before, let alone when he had returned. Or had he ever really left for Denerim? Was that all a dream? He pulled on his trousers and opened the door, peering around the small living around. Pa wasn't there.

Daveth walked quietly through the room, straightening up the furniture Pa had knocked over in a drunken rage the night before. Picking up a chair, he found the painting of Ma with the cracked frame. Ma, plain but pretty, looked back at him calmly, dark curls hung limply around her face. The painter had managed to capture the twinkle of her dark eyes. He felt his mouth twitch into a frown as his gaze shifted to the crack in the frame. It had fallen off the wall once when Pa threw him against it. He was placing the frame back on the hook when the front door burst open.

"You lazy, good-for-nothing bastard," Pa growled from the door. "You was supposed to work on the firewood out back, but you haven't done nothing."

Daveth swallowed and turned around slowly. "I'll do it now, Pa, I will. I woke up feeling all fuzzy and I wasn't sure where I was, honest."

Pa spat a laugh and lurched forward. "Gonna have to make sure you won't forget about your chores again, boy. A boy's got a duty to his father."

"Duty?" Daveth muttered, suddenly feeling like he had forgotten something. "Wait, Pa, just listen – "

Pa lunged at him and swung a fist wildly, but Daveth dodged him and watched as his father stumbled against the wall. Pa turned around and snarled, picking up an iron candle holder and throwing it. It flew over Daveth's shoulder as he dodged. Daveth moved backwards and quickly rummaged through a drawer until he found a blade. He held it out in front of him, and stepped forward cautiously.

"Now, you just wait a minute," Daveth said nervously. "Something's not right here."

"You put that knife down, boy," Pa said angrily. "You know your place in this house." He stumbled forward, scowling, as he pointed his finger at his son. "You may be a man now, but you're still my boy, and I won't let you forget it. I won't!"

A face flashed through Daveth's mind and he froze. A man with stern eyes, dark hair, dark skin. "Duncan," he whispered, and his memories flooded back to him. He was at the Circle Tower, with Natia and Jory and that mage, Wynne. He was a Grey Warden.

"What's that, boy?" Pa grumbled, stepping forward. "You best speak up, before I knock them teeth of yours out."

Daveth shook his head and stepped forward. "I'm not afraid of you anymore, old man, and I don't think I'm supposed to be here. I'm a Grey Warden, see, and I haven't seen your miserable face in over six years. You could be dead, for all I know."

Pa looked startled for a moment before leaning back and letting out an inhuman laugh. "You must think you're very clever, human." The voice was no longer Pa's, and Daveth shuddered involuntarily.

"You mind telling me what's going on?" Daveth steeled himself, and suddenly felt the weight of his armor on him.

The thing-that-was-not Pa shimmered and took a new, demonic form, and grinned wickedly. "You're in the Fade, human, and in the Fade you'll stay. Unless, of course, I decide to kill you."

"And my friends? Where are they?"

"They're in their own dreams, or nightmares," the demon said as it seemed to regard the nails on a deformed hand. "Forget about them. We'll make a lovely dream for you. I'm feeling rather generous."

"I'd rather not," Daveth said firmly, feeling himself tense up.

"Then you will die, fool." The demon growled and a fountain of fire burst up from the ground next to Daveth.

He jumped away from the flame with a yelp, pulled a dagger from his sheath and threw it at the demon. The blade landed cleanly between its eyes and the demon howled in pain. Daveth quickly drew his other blade and ran forward, throwing the full force of his weight behind him as he sliced cleanly across the demon's throat. Black blood spurted out of the beast's neck and it gurgled incomprehensibly before falling to the ground.

Daveth stood over the body and caught his breath, and looked around the house again. His eyes fell on his mother's picture and he frowned. He had turned to leave when he heard a familiar voice pass through his head, as faint as a summer's breeze.

"Let the light guide you to your friends, Davy boy. Free them to end this nightmare."

Daveth's eyes lingered on the painting once more. He held his dagger firmly in his hand and walked toward the door, and headed into the unknown.

As he passed through the door, the scene around him flickered away. He wasn't standing in Selwood; that was for certain. The surrounding lands were bleak and twisted, and glittered eerily as light reflected against it. He turned around and saw that the house had disappeared and had been replaced with a glowing doorway. He turned around again and saw that he was now standing in a corridor filled with similar doors. And in the distance, very faintly, he saw a light.

"Thanks, Ma," he whispered, his mouth twitching into a smile, and he began walking down the corridor toward the light.

He wasn't sure how long he had been walking, though he felt like time didn't pass the same way in the Fade as it did in the real world. Strange noises floating around him so faintly, he wasn't even sure if they were really there. Each door he passed seemed to differ slightly from the one before, and Daveth felt himself wondering about the dreamers on the other side. Were they also trapped in the Fade? Or were they simply dreaming?

When Daveth felt like he couldn't walk anymore, he realized the light was directly ahead of him. The glowing orb hovered next to a door and pulsed rhythmically, like a beating heart.

"This one?" Daveth asked the orb, cocking his head toward the door. The orb pulsed brightly once. "Alright."

He pushed the door open slowly and a salty breeze wafted over him, and he heard the gentle lapping of waves in the distance. He walked through the threshold and found himself on a modest farm with a small, but cozy, house in the center of it. He began walking toward the house, passing by several cows chewing the sweetgrass beneath them lazily.

A plump woman came through the front door and hung a blanket on a line, and began beating at it with a broom. Daveth didn't think she was much to look at; not ugly, but not striking in any particular way.

"Hello!" the woman called brightly, leaning the broom against the house and wiping her hands on her apron. "You must be here to see my husband."

Daveth rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose I am, my lady."

"What manners!" The woman threw her head back and laughed merrily, and her face lit up in a way that made her almost beautiful. "You can call me Helena, love. Jory's inside with the baby."

Daveth nodded his head and stepped through the front door. Jory was sitting in a rocking chair next to a hearth, holding a sleeping infant in his arms.

"Hello, Ser Knight," Daveth said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Daveth!" Jory looked up and smiled. "Come and meet my little one. This is Horace."

"Horace?" Daveth stifled a laugh as he crossed the room. The baby, wrapped in a blue knitted blanket, was the spitting image of its father.

Jory smiled down at the baby. "Yes, we named him after my father. Helena hated the name, but I wore her down eventually. Stopping the Blight had a hand in that, I think."

Daveth felt his mouth twitch into a frown. "Jory, I need you to listen to me. We didn't stop the Blight."

"What are you talking about?" Jory laughed. "There hasn't been a report on darkspawn sightings in almost six months."

"I need you to think, Ser Knight," Daveth began slowly. "Do you remember being at the Circle Tower? Do you remember what happened?"

"That was months ago," Jory waved a hand.

"Just focus," Daveth said firmly. "Think about your duty."

Jory sighed exasperatedly. "We were looking for Brother Genitivi, to find the Andraste's ashes, and Leliana was injured… so we went to the Circle to find a healer. We were going through and… we… there was a demon and… it all gets a bit fuzzy. I don't really remember much after that."

"That demon sent us to the Fade, Jory," Daveth said softly. "This is a dream."

Jory looked down at the baby in his arms. "But, I can feel him in my arms. You're saying he's not real?"

Daveth hesitated. "I'm saying that if you ever want to see your Helena again, and your baby, you need to wake up."

Jory stroked the infant's cheek and blinked away a tear. "Helena? Could you come in for a minute?"

Helena appeared at the doorway and smiled. "I'm here, darling."

"Helena, do you like it here in Redcliffe?" Jory asked quietly.

"Of course, I do," she smiled brightly, crossing the room. "I'm happy wherever you are, darling."

Jory nodded and stood up, handing the infant gently to her. "Daveth and I need to go for awhile."

"Will you be back for supper?" Helena asked sweetly. "I'm making stew."

"I love you," Jory said thickly, kissing her on the forehead. "I will see you again."

Daveth and Jory began walking through the farm toward the portal, and the scene began to flicker and fade.

"You know when I asked her about Redcliffe?" Jory said quietly, as Daveth nodded his head. "We're supposed to be in Highever. That's how I knew you were telling the truth."

The light guided them to the next portal, and Daveth pushed open the door. Great stone walls vaulted up from the ground and closed in on a stone ceiling. Carvings and sculptures chiseled out of other stones adorned the walls, and dwarves milled about at various stalls, trading wares.

"I think we're in Orzammar!" Jory said, awestruck, as he looked around.

"What gave it away, Ser Knight, the dwarves or the giant cave?" Daveth slapped the knight on the back and took a step forward. "Well, I guess we know who we're looking for here."

A guard making rounds spotted the pair and walked toward them. "What can I do for you, Wardens?"

"We're looking for someone," Daveth said with a nod. "Her name's Natia Brosca. Do you know her?"

"You'll find her at the tavern," the guard replied. "Even Paragons need some ale every now and then." He pointed toward a building a short walk away, and continued on his route.

The two Wardens made their way to the tavern and stepped inside. Natia was sitting at a long table with a crowd around her, looking absolutely miserable. She looked up when the door chimed open and she seemed to sigh in relief.

"Thank the Stone you're here," she said, jumping up from the table. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm soddin' sick of it."

"You were waiting for us?" Jory asked, surprised.

"See that guy over there?" Natia pointed out a dwarf with braided hair and several empty pints in front of him. "That's my best friend Leske. He says he married my sister, like that would ever happen. Oh, and I'm a Paragon and that we're all nobles now. It's a bunch of nug shit. Get me out of here."

Daveth grinned and bowed slightly, holding out a hand. "Right this way, my lady."

They found Wynne sobbing, surrounded by dead mages. She dabbed at her eyes with her robes and turned around, and saw the three Wardens standing before her.

"They're all dead, I couldn't save them," she said quietly, her face twisted in pain. "Where were you when this happened? Why didn't you do anything?"

"This is a dream, Wynne," Daveth said as he took a step forward. "We're in the Fade."

"I think I'd know if I were in a dream," Wynne laughed bitterly. "No, I am being punished for failing the only family I've ever known."

One of the bodies on the ground began to stir, and a elf mage stood up beside Wynne. "It's okay, Wynne. You can stay with us forever."

"What?" Wynne gasped, backing away. "What are you?"

"I've had about enough of this," Natia growled, tossing a dagger into the elf's head. "Let's get out of here."

The sloth demon fell to the ground with a thud and disappeared.

"Now what?" Daveth asked, when another mage shimmered into view.

"Niall?" Wynne asked cautiously. "Is that you?"

Niall nodded. "It is, and you've freed me. You must use the Litany of Andralla to stop Uldred, and save us all."

"Uldred?" Wynne looked shocked. "He's behind this?"

"There's no time to explain," Niall said firmly. "Use the Litany. Maker be with you."

Uldred was dead, and the last of the abominations shrieked in pain and burst into flame. The mages on the floor moaned and shook with tears, as they realized they had been saved. Wynne ran toward an older mage on the far side of the room.

"Irving!" she cried, holding out her hand. "Oh, thank the Maker! Are you alright?"

"I am fine, Wynne," Irving said with a groan as he stood up, and moved painfully to face the Wardens. "You have my thanks."

"You can thank us by giving us a good healer," Natia said quickly. "Our friend is dying."

"By all means," Irving said with a nod. "I shall assist you personally."

Irving and Wynne stood over Leliana's body, bright light streaming from their fingertips. Daveth watched in awe as her body began to glow and the wounds on her chest began to heal. Leliana's breathing began to steady and her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head and found Alistair, still kneeling at her side, his expression strained.

"I dreamt of you," she said quietly. "Thank you for staying with me."

Alistair's cheeks flushed and he blew out a sigh. "I… er… I'm just glad you're alright."

Leliana sat up and grimaced. "Oh, I am still a little sore."

"It will take time for you to heal, child," Irving said gently. "You are lucky to be alive. Much longer and not even I could have helped you." The First Enchanter turned back to the rest of the group and inclined his head. "The Circle owes you, Wardens. We will fight with you at the end."

"Thank you," Natia said, motioning for her companions to get their things. "We'll need all of the help we can get."

"Before you go, Wardens," Wynne began slowly, not looking at Irving. "I'd like to join you."

Daveth heard Morrigan snort somewhere behind him, but Natia shushed her and began to nod. "We'd be honored to have you with us."

"If that is what you would like to do, Wynne, I will not stop you," Irving smiled wearily. "And remember, you always have a place here at the Tower, should you wish to return."

"Come on," Natia said. "We've still got to find this Brother Genitivi."

"My Qunari friend and I have already taken the liberty to speak with the proprietor of the inn," Zevran said, stepping out from the shadows. "It seems it was all a distraction. There has been no sighting of the good brother here."

"Then it looks like we have a score to settle back in Denerim," Natia said darkly.