Suddenly she was in the forest. A movement in the underbrush and she drew her bow, silent and graceful.

The arrow flew without a sound and came to rest in the creature's neck. The deer fell, a heavy thump breaking the reverent silence. The Warden knelt at the fallen beast and pulled her arrow from its neck. Blood spurted onto her leather armor and bare stomach.

Behind her, the soft steps of another hunter, imperceptible to most. She turned and saw Zevran, also wearing the leathers of the Dalish.

"Nice shot," he said, grinning at her. "Come, let us take this fine prize home."

They carried the kill together, Zevran leading the way. The Warden could not remember how to get to the Dalish camp, and a nagging feeling of uncertainty, of wrongness, tugged at her. But Zevran turned and smiled at her as they came to the clearing and those thoughts were banished.

They laid the deer on the ground and others came to prepare it.

"Go wash up," Zevran said to her. "I will help with the carcass."

She nodded and wandered to the nearby stream, using the sound of running water to guide her.

How strange that she could not find her way, she who had always been so at home in the forest.

She was bathing in the cool rushing water when Zevran returned, this time wearing Antivan leathers. Why the old Antivan leathers, she wondered, but banished such thoughts.

"What a lovely sight to happen upon," he said. "Today must be my lucky day."

She gave him a smile. "You see me naked every day, Zev," she said.

He seemed a little taken aback by this, confused. She did not notice.

"Come, help me bathe," she said. He stripped off his leathers and waded into the water with her. He let his hands slide over her, caressing her breasts, running over her shoulders like the barest hint of silk, combing through the long black hair that fell to her waist.

She smiled and leaned into his embrace, her back against him. He kissed her neck, working his way up to her ear. She whimpered and shivered a little in his embrace. He let his fingers wander down to her supple breasts, caressing the nipples and squeezing.

She turned, and he stood back and drank her in, her flushed cheeks, the soft smile on her lips, the curve of her body, the soft golden skin. His stare was intent, as though he was memorizing every detail. It was not the gaze of a man who had seen her this way every day for several years. Another flicker of doubt, of wrongness, ran through her head.

Determined to banish it she stepped towards him and let her hands explore him. His chest was firmly muscled and she let her hands run over him, slick with water. She moved them downwards and found he was already hard and hot. He stood there, letting her fondle and caress him, his arms at his side.

She looked at his face. His eyes were dark, but there was something there besides lust. She was determined to drive whatever thoughts bothered him away.

"The children are learning from the storyteller," she whispered in his ear. "We have some time alone."

"The children?" he said, his normal suave confidence gone, confusion and fear in its place.

"Our children," she whispered, running a hand down the side of his face. Then she kissed him, hard and passionate, and felt his tongue running over hers, caressing her. She let her mouth move lower, over his neck, tracing a trail down his chest and stomach, finishing with a few kisses on his hard length.

She took his hand and pulled him to the shore. The gleam of uncertainty still lingered in his gaze, and she was determined to banish it. She lay down, legs spread, inviting.

"I'm all wet and ready for you," she said. He knelt before her, and kissed her neck again. Warmth spread through her, flowing from his mouth to the tips of her fingers and toes. He let a hand slide between her legs.

"Please," she said. "I want to feel you inside me."

He kissed her again and she could see desire in his eyes. But suddenly he pulled away, stood up.

"What's wrong?" said the Warden, standing up and stepping towards him. "I can tell you want me," she caressed him again, trying to regain their connection.

"You are so tempting," he said. "But I cannot. I…it is not the time."

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Where do you think we are?" he asked.

"With my clan, in the forest. We were just hunting deer, and I went to clean up."

"Do you not remember the Blight? You became a Grey Warden."

She laughed. "That was years ago, love. The Blight is over, and you came home with me after."

"I'm afraid the Blight is far from over. You are a Grey Warden. You cannot let this fantasy overcome you. You are needed."

"Fantasy? What…" She looked around. The forest did seem strange, none of its usual song of tress and wind and wild things. Everything shimmered for an instant, strange and unreal. Only Zevran stayed solid.

"You are a Grey Warden," he said. "You must wake up."

Two fair haired children with dark eyes and golden skin ran up to the Warden and Zevran.

"Mama," said the older one. "It is time to eat."

The other one ran to Zevran. "Swing me, papa!" he said. Zevran took a step back from the child as though he might bite.

"You are a Grey Warden," said Zevran. "And these are not your children."

"We are so happy here," she said. "Why?'

"You have a duty," he said.

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes, but they did not spill. She pushed the children away.

"You are not mine," she said. "I have to leave."

"Don't leave us," the children wailed, and as the two elves stepped away the children shifted and became demons. Zevran and the Warden grabbed their weapons from the riverbank. The demons were not difficult to kill.

"As much as it pains me to say it, we should dress," he said.

The Warden realized she was still naked from her bath, and Zevran was as well.

"I…yeah" she said.

That night in camp, the Warden came up to Zevran, sheepish.

"I am sorry for how I behaved while…you know."

Zevran held back cocky remarks about being her fantasy.

"I too must apologize. I was sorely tempted to take advantage of you."

She nodded. "I…I don't know why it was you…in my dream. There's something about you," she raised her hand as though to touch his cheek, then pulled back.

He took her hand and caressed it, letting his fingers run over her knuckles, kneading her palm.

"You wanted me," he said. She nodded. "It is a common enough problem among women," he said, unable to hold on to the somber moment any longer. "There is only one remedy."

"I…" she gazed at him, and he could see the same lust in her eyes, "not yet."

"Soon, I hope, my lovely Warden. Until then I shall have to gaze on you from afar and pine."

She smiled and ducked into her tent.