Downstairs, the occasional snore drifts up. Otherwise, it's silent.




When Alistair jolts awake for a second time, he lies motionless, counting his breaths like he used to do when the Warden dreams got to him during the Blight. The brazier's burned down, gone cold. He has no idea how long it'll be until sunrise.

...He's also got a nasty cramp in his legs from sleeping half-scrunched like this. Damn it.

Alistair swings himself off the chaise to pace the floor for a little while, half to finish calming down, half to stretch his legs.