Nightmares

"I found two more doors," Myra said, as they drifted through the Fade.

Epona didn't like it here. She felt oddly agitated and nervous, but Witherfang kept close to her side, brushing his fur against her comfortingly. It was soothing, and she couldn't help but brush her fingers over him.

"More have been opening up," Niall said.

Myra and Lawrien both already knew him and had happily talked to him, while Epona and Sten remained wary and stayed back. Myra did seem a bit less likely to trust people outright though, so hopefully this wasn't a demon in disguise.

"Alright, so who is taking what door?" Myra asked.

"I suppose we should have at least one mage with us," Epona said, staring up at Sten.

Sten's scowl deepened.

"I'll take Sten with me, unless he wants to stay here," Lawrien said.

"He can help me guard this part of the Fade if he likes?" Niall offered.

Sten eyed her, and Epona shrugged.

"I will in case this is a demon," Sten muttered to her.

Epona nodded. "Alright," she whispered back, then raised her voice. "He'll watch our backs then I guess. Who shall I go with?"

"Myra and you can stay together. I can handle this on my own," Lawrien said.

"But you don't even know what's back there," Myra protested. "We should all just go together."

"The more time we spend here, the longer we've been fed on, and none of us know how long Niall's been stuck here for," Lawrien said. "Myra, go with Epona. Look after each other. I've got this."

Myra grimaced, but nodded. She and Myra took the door towards their left, and Lawrien marched off to the right one. They both stepped inside and disappeared into a new dream, or a nightmare.

.::.

Narascha startled awake in the throne room where her father held court. She stood between her brothers, all of them in their armour, and she had to fight off the urge to puke. This wasn't right. None of this was right. Trian was dead. Bhelen had betrayed her. Narascha couldn't be here. She was banished, no, even worse, she had been stripped from the records. Narascha no longer existed in Orzammar.

"Are you alright, sister? Maybe you should have remained in bed today. You haven't been well since the last expedition where you hit your head," Bhelen asked softly, his voice low, full of concern.

Was it fake concern? Did he actually care?

"Get yourself together, Narascha," Trian chided. "Father is holding court and we must represent ourselves well as Aeducan royalty. I know you haven't been feeling well, but you shouldn't have shown up here if you couldn't."

Narascha's heart was pounding hard in her ears. "I need a moment," she managed to breath out, then slipped out from between their sides and around the crowd, heading out the doors.

Gorim was right beside her in an instant. "Are you alright, my Lady?"

She could feel her father's eyes on her, boring into her back as she walked out. Narascha needed to think. There had to be a way out of this. This wasn't real, not unless all these months with her friends and companions had been some fever dream. Her brothers had said she hadn't been well. Narascha shook her head.

"What can I get you? Do you want to return to your quarters?" Gorim asked hurriedly. "By the Ancestors, I knew it was too soon for you to return to court. You've been ill since you took that hit to the head. I'm so sorry I didn't protect you properly-"

"Just get me some water," Narascha ordered, waving her hand. "And maybe a light snack."

"Are you sure?" Gorim hesitated.

"Did I stutter, Gorim?" Narascha scowled. "Go."

"Alright, alright, please just sit down and relax for a moment, Princess," Gorim said softly, then hurried off towards the kitchen.

"You shouldn't talk to Gorim like that, Nara."

Narascha froze. That was her mother's voice. Out of the corner of her eye she could just see the edge of her, the Queen of Orzammar. Narascha choked on her breath. No, that cleared it up perfectly. None of this was real. Narascha couldn't bare to look either. She took off running, ignoring her mother's shout. A couple of guards tried to get in the way, but Narascha slipped past them, tripping another up, then shoved the doors open and bolted down the street. There was a few confused shouts, and she swore she heard her father yell at her to stop. A royal order. Narascha ignored it.

A hand out of nowhere grabbed her and yanked her into the shadows the moment she took a corner and Narascha almost screamed. Torph slammed her into the wall, slapping his hand over her mouth, silencing her. A patrol of guards went clambering by a moment later, yelling for her, as she clung to Torph's arms. He was in rags, his wrists and ankles bright red and swollen, as if they had been hanging from shackles.

Torph slowly removed his hand from her mouth and stepped back, his brow furrowed.

"You normal?" he asked.

Narascha snorted. "Hello to you too, you ass."

Torph smirked. "Thank fuck." His smirk fell as they both fell into step with each other, going further into the alleyway. "Do you know what the hell is going on, Nara?"

Nara. She bit her lip at the nickname, but before he could notice, she forced herself to talk.

"I have no idea. The last thing I remember was that abomination then waking up here with my brothers and father holding court," Narascha said. "What happened to you?"

"I was in a Carta dungeon," Torph said, his voice darkening, growing heavier. "But ain't no need to worry about that shit. I escaped."

But he looked haunted. Narascha couldn't help but brush her arm against his, nudging him gently. He trembled, much to her shock.

"They had Rica..." he said shakily. "She screamed so much... I knew it wasn't her, but fuck, they sound so realistic here. Is this what happens when topsiders sleep?"

"I hope not... it's horrible..." Narascha said. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine when we're outta here," Torph said, breathing in sharply through his nose. "Besides, it couldn't have been easy for you seeing those assholes. I should be asking you the same question."

"I walked out as soon as I could." Narascha faltered.

"But?"

"Then I heard my mother and ran," Narascha sighed. "I couldn't... I couldn't even bring myself to look at her, and I hate to admit it, but I could barely remember what her voice was like until now. It's been years since I last heard it." Narascha laughed shakily, tears stinging her eyes. "That's horrible. I... I'm actually thankful for this freak that he brought my mother back for me to hear again after all these years... isn't that the worst?"

Torph shook his head. "Nah, I don't blame you. Not if you loved her that much."

"I loved her so much, Torph." Narascha bit her lip. "I miss her everyday."

"Glad you could miss yours," Torph said. "Mine was shit."

"Shit, I'm sorry, here I am complaining-"

"Don't start with that shit. You ain't got nothing to be sorry for." Torph rolled his eyes. "Besides, we've got more important crap to do without wallowing. How the fuck do we get outta here?"

"...Should I punch you?"

"No!" Torph scowled. "I don't want a bruise."

"Would I even bruise you if we're dreaming?"

"I don't know. I've never dreamt before except with that weird ass Archdemon."

"How do the others do it?" Narascha shook her head.

"I don't know, but these dreams and nightmares are creepy as fuck."

.::.

"You really need me to punch your mother for you?" Epona crossed her arms.

"She's really annoying," Morrigan sighed.

"My own daughter!" 'Flemeth' cried. "How could she say such things about me?"

Epona grimaced. "I see what you mean."

.::.

"Sorry you were frozen like that again, Shale," Lawrien said.

"I'm more amused to see you are now a golem," Shale said.

"It's cool, isn't it?" Lawrien grinned.

"Yes, we are both so powerful now. We shall take over the puny human world."

"Hell yeah!"

.::.

Myra walked into another dream, or nightmare, only to yelp when the two dwarves in front of her punched each other right in their faces. The pair cursed and stumbled back, both shaking their heads.

"That didn't work," Narascha groaned.

"You're telling me!" Torph clutched his head. "Fuck, you punch hard!"

"I'm a warrior, of course I punch hard. You're also the one who decided this was the best course of action."

"Yeah, because we've been stuck in here for who knows how long!"

Myra cleared her throat. "Um..."

They both turned to her.

"Oh, hey," Torph greeted. "Lawrien's little sister."

"Hi, Myra." Narascha nodded.

"How about I lead you out of here?" Myra suggested. "Instead of you both beating each other up?"

"Wish ya appeared earlier with that offer," Torph groaned. "Would have saved my face."

"Nothing is saving that, salroka," Narascha teased.

"Fucker."

.::.

Morrigan smirked as she crossed her arms. "Well, well, I suppose the Circle training isn't very handy at all."

Epona winced. That was a bit cruel, especially when Wynne stood between all those bodies, weeping. Wynne looked up at Morrigan, her eyes burning with rage, but Morrigan didn't even bat an eye. She looked delighted. Great, wonderful, now Epona would be stuck with this mess.

Epona shared a despairing look with Witherfang, but he trotted away and bit one of the dead bodies' legs. Wynne opened her mouth to protest, but the 'body' began to scream and writhe. Wynne yelped and stumbled back, growing pale, while Morrigan clapped her hands.

"Oh wonderful! She's aware now!" Morrigan mocked.

"I'm not dealing with this," Epona sighed. "This is... no... not getting involved... You two can sort out whatever spat you have yourselves. I'm just going to shoot some arrows into demons."

.::.

Ciara had awoken trapped in her own body. She was at a ball, with her family, her former family, the Trevelyans. Her father, Kyron, her mother, Amaleia, her older brothers, Kyron Jr and Terrance, and her younger brother, Dexter. They were all moving, laughing and chatting away, brokering a deal, from the sounds of it.

"That settles it. Your son will marry my daughter," Kyron said, chuckling heartily. "Our families will be joined."

"And your daughter?" Viscount Threnhold asked.

"She has no opinion on the matter." Kyron smiled. "She will do as her duties decree, as I decree."

Ciara couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She stared in disbelief as her family cheered and toasted with Viscount Threnhold. They shook each others hands and bowed and curtseyed and none of them said a thing to her. She couldn't say anything. She couldn't move.

It was as if she didn't exist. Ciara was invisible next to their glory. Just a pretty trophy who couldn't speak or move and scare off the potential suitor. Ciara opened her mouth, tried to scream, to end this nightmare.

But it was a silent scream.

She was nothing but a pretty doll, and it made her want to tear her hair out. It made her want to bite off her tongue, to claw herself apart. This couldn't be happening. Ciara had never been incapable of defending herself. Yes, she had taken beatings from her brothers and her parents, but she had instigated them herself. She knew the rules and broke them.

Now she couldn't and it was killing her inside.

Dexter was even ignoring her. Her little brother who never laid a hand on her. Who smiled as bright as Lawrien. He didn't even spare her a glance.

Ciara didn't even feel tears burning her eyes. She wanted to cry. This was a horrible nightmare she was trapped in. But she couldn't. Ciara couldn't cry. She had no choice but to stand in front of these people and smile.

Ciara was trapped inside her own body.