Shara stood before him, a tiny bundle cradled in her arms as she stood in the doorway of a small house nestled in a grove of trees. "Niall, come in for supper, it's nearly ready." Her voice was exactly the way he remembered, low and rich.

Following her into the house, he was hit by the smell of roasting meat, the stomach making his stomach grumble. Shara grinned at him. "Sounds like you're hungry. Would you mind holding the baby, love?"

Doubt niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn't help responding. He took the child gently, and the babe fussed only a little before settling into his arms. It was small, barely older than a month, if he had to guess, and there was a dark, unruly mop of hair on the infant's head. The child's coloring was similar to Shara's, only a bit lighter, and while the full mouth had to have come from the babe's mother, the nose was from someone else.

Once dinner was on the table, Shara took the child back and gently awoke it, baring a breast for the baby to feed. She accomplished the task with practiced grace, smiling at Niall once the babe was securely attached. She motioned for him to eat and he obliged, the food hearty and good, if nothing more than could be expected from simple country fare. It was satisfying, and once he was finished, he gestured towards the child. "Do you want me to hold it while you eat?"

Shara wrinkled her nose at him and laughed. "It? Do you forget that you're father to a son, my husband?"

With those words from the woman he'd fallen in love with, Niall knew none of it was real. Shara had left to join the Wardens almost a year past, and even if they had managed to escape the Tower together, the Templars would have hunted them both down. He wanted the dream to be true so badly, to have a life with her, to have a family and live far away from those who hated magic, but he had to try and get back, try and save the Tower. At least the true Shara was safe, far away from Uldred's blood mages and abominations.

"Whatever you are, you're not real. I have to leave." As he got up from the table, Shara hissed and her eyes turned red. The babe shifted into a half-rotted corpse, grinning wickedly.

"You're not leaving me, Niall. You are staying!" The voice was distorted, and deep, the sound grating. It was the voice of the damned.

Shara knew her Harrowing was growing near, and the mix of nerves and excitement had her on edge. She'd seen the shipment of lyrium arrive by ship, knowing what it was for the two dozen Templars accompanying the crates. It was almost a month ahead of the usual delivery of lyrium, and though the mages fighting darkspawn in the south meant the Tower had a greater requirement, the need for so much could only mean that the First Enchanter intended to put someone through the Harrowing.

She'd spent the last week pestering Niall almost incessantly, begging him to help her perfect spells she struggled with. He was an excellent teacher, patient and kind. Ever since her original mentor had passed away from old age, she had been Niall's charge, his first student. He had been twenty-two, she fifteen, and they had become friends as much as teacher and pupil. Now she was twenty, fully coming into her power, and Niall had shaped and honed her into the mage she was today. He corrected mistakes without berating, praised without sounding condescending, and she'd flourished under his tutelage. He challenged her intellect as much as he refined her skill, and while she didn't share his isolationist view of mages, she could appreciate his reasoning. She hadn't even had to study under many other mages as both of them focused on the Spirit school, neither stepping outside it more than a stray healing spell here and there. The older she grew, the more their friendship deepened, sharing an easy relationship that suited both of them well.

It had been the past few months, as her training grew more intense and the spells more difficult, that she'd begun to notice the way he smiled at her and the particular line of his jaw. She'd found herself admiring his quiet confidence, how even when faced with mages whose words were so vitriolic she'd been tempted to throttle them, he remained calm, reasoned, and with that he commanded her respect. She hadn't taken a lover since she'd begun to notice Niall, and with her impending Harrowing she'd found it increasingly difficult to avoid seeking out his bed. She'd planned to wait until she was an enchanter, uncertain if Niall would object to bedding one of his students, but she no longer wanted to wait. She wanted to be with him. Soon.

Today, unlike the past week, she wasn't hunting him down for more training lessons. She'd overheard a few Templars discussing the possibility of a Harrowing in the next two weeks. Shara hadn't been able to figure out whether or not he knew when her day would come, but she had to tell him the delightful gossip she'd heard had been confirmed by that sweet, bumbling templar named Cullen. The man stammered and smiled like an idiot around her, and he made it all too easy for her to coax bits of information out of him that he likely shouldn't have told full enchanters, much less an apprentice. All she had to do was smile and flutter her eyelashes, absolute child's play compared to the games she usually played with men, but such mild flirting was much easier to accomplish in public.

She found Niall in the third floor library, deep in discussion with another enchanter. Trying to remember her place between the two, she maintained a respectful distance, fidgeting with eager excitement to share her news.

It was several minutes before the other enchanter turned away, and Niall motioned her over. Barely suppressing the urge to run, she managed to keep a quick walk, settling into a chair at Niall's table. Niall, as usual, was calm and unflustered, the slightest smile on his face. "You're twitching as though someone poured itchweed down your robes, what's going on?"

"I think it's going to be in two weeks! I overheard a few Templars talking about Greagoir and Irving hashing out the details and assignments."Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. "And I had that confirmed as well."

Shaking his head with a laugh, Niall fixed her with a wry grin. "As long as you don't go around making the Templars break their vows. Is that all you wanted?"

Trying to suppress yet another smirk, she shook her head. "No, I know we've practiced every day for a week-"

Niall threw up his hands and laughed quietly. "I'm never quite going to satisfy you, am I?"

Shara's eyebrows raised at Niall's choice of words, but said nothing of them. "If you'll let me finish?" At his nod, she continued. "Since we've been practicing, I was wondering if you might wish to do something more... enjoyable. Even satisfying." It wasn't her usual approach to choose her words so carefully – most men she simply tumbled into bed with sultry looks, whispered promises and a few well-placed touches. This was different – she trusted and respected her mentor, and though he had never spoken ill of her bedtime habits, and had been a faithful friend, she did wonder what he thought.

His eyes were on hers, now, and she could almost hear his mind at work. She'd readied herself for rejection, well, at least a temporary rejection, but now the moment was upon her she deeply hoped he wouldn't object. "I.." He paused a few moments, eyes drifting over her face, as if he was searching for any uncertainty. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him and he smiled. "I would like that. Very much."

Letting a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, Shara smiled and licked her lips. "When would you-"

With a grin he stood up from the table, pushing the chair back into place. "After dinner. You know where to find me." She nodded, a familiar sensation of anticipation filling her. "And Shara?"

"Yes, Niall?"

"Don't be too late." There was a mischievous glint in his eye she hadn't seen before, and it lit up his face in a way that made her heart jump. She knew he'd had his fair share of lovers, but it had been a while since she'd heard any whispers of Niall with anyone.

As Shara headed to a practice room, she couldn't help grin. She'd won her prize.

Niall's head spun. He'd tried to get out of this place, this dream, so many times, but every time he was lost, each time there was a new obstacle to frustrate his progress. The same was true in the other parts of the dream and finally he had given up, resigning his last hours of life to hovering near the glyph-carved platform.

A sudden shimmer to his right caught his eye and he turned. It was Shara, clad in chainmail, sword and staff slung across her back. There were tears on her cheeks and she looked shaken.

"Niall? You're still alive?" Shara was staring at him, mouth open in shock, as though she didn't quite recognize him.

Wary, Niall nodded slowly. "I am. Why are you..." He trailed off, still baffled by her presence. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Grey Wardens? What are you wearing?" He'd heard that the Wardens had betrayed the king and killed him, but he hadn't believed it. Niall had thought Shara dead until a messenger from Teryn Loghain had arrived at the Tower, asking them to immediately report to the new regent if Shara returned to the mages. The man had said she'd survived Ostagar and was rallying forces against Teryn Loghain. That had sounded like Shara, and here she was, clad like a warrior.

She laughed softly and looked down at her chain. "Do you like it? I... learned a technique. I can wear armor now, if I use my magic in a certain way." She stayed distant, almost wary. If this manifestation was another dream, the demon was doing the exact opposite of what Niall would have wanted. "I am here with the Wardens... well, with the only other Warden in Ferelden." She frowned, anger flashing in her eyes. "Loghain betrayed the king, he deserted him, and I nearly died. There's a Blight and we've got treaties for the elves, mages and dwarves. If I'd had any idea what was going on, I would have come sooner and put a stop to it, I - I'm so sorry, Niall."

She took a few tentative steps forward, holding out her hand to him. He took it, unfamiliar calluses on her hand, likely from the massive sword that was slung across her back. "It's not your fault, Shara, please, you've had much bigger things to worry about."

She smiled then, throwing her arms around them as she buried her face against his neck. It was so good to have her in his arms again, even if she felt thinner than she had when he'd last held her. She was firmer too, both likely the result of months travelling on the road. Willing himself to hold back tears of relief, he began to pull back, but she kissed him, a kiss entirely unlike others they'd shared before – sweet, tentative, testing – it was as though she was unsure it would be welcome.

When they finally pulled away, Shara's eyes were wet. "I've missed you, Niall."

Brushing an unruly lock of hair from her face, he couldn't help smiling. "I've missed you too."

The light tap on the stone made Niall jump. He'd spent the day going through his usual schedule of classes and instruction, but a young mage's difficulty with a spell had meant he'd almost missed the dinner hour entirely. Shara was already gone by the time he'd arrived to the mess hall, and he'd found his partitioned room empty. Turning towards the sound, relief washed through him as he saw her.

She stood out in a tower of mages that were almost entirely from Ferelden and Orlesian stock. Born in Rivaini, brought to Ferelden's Tower by a mother concerned with devotees of the Qun getting their hands on a young mage, the young woman was unlike anyone else he'd met. Glossy black hair, eyes the darkest shade of brown he'd ever seen, and skin that was a warm, rich reddish-brown. She was on the tall side, and she didn't possess the youthful slimness others her age did, but her round hips and full chest – things he hadn't paid much attention to until the last six or seven months – were much more to his taste. He'd kept his urges quiet, certain she had no interest in him as a lover, and he had promised himself he would not approach her unless she indicated otherwise. Well, you certainly got what you asked for. And here she was, smile on her face, eyes sparkling and Maker, if he didn't want her as badly as he'd wanted anyone. "I thought you may have changed your mind, Shara."

She let out a low laugh and stepped towards the desk where he was seated. "Not with you." Something about the tone of her voice spurred him to action, and he stood up, closing the distance between them in a few short strides.

Arms slid around him, one tangling in his hair, and he covered her mouth with his. She pressed her body against him, slipping a leg between his and the feel of her thigh flush against her groin set off an immediate response, and soon he was tearing himself away, panting hard. "Shara." Her only response was to look at him with a smile that was told him she was supremely pleased with herself, and it was then she thrust her hips towards him, the thigh nestled between his legs causing the most delightful friction against his growing arousal.

Groaning quietly, he pushed her back until her knees hit the bed. Lifting his hands to her hair, he gently tugged at the pins and ties holding that casually side-swept bun in place, freeing her long, thick hair. Trailing his mouth down the side of her face, he let his fingers drift the buttons that ran part way down the back of her robes. As the fabric parted, skin met his fingertips, hot and smooth to the touch. Shara's breath was on his ear, and then her tongue, warm and wet, darted out to tease the sensitive flesh. Fingers brushed the back of his neck and he quickly realized she was mimicking his movements with quick, delicate hands. The laces on the bodice of her robe followed, and he was tugging at the skirts, drawing it upwards in impatience.

As he bunched the garments around her hips, he pushed her down towards the bed. She followed his movements, sitting down even as he drew the garment over her head. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, wondering where the sudden rush had come from. He was usually a slow, patient lover, ready to follow his partner in what she wanted, but Shara just invited him to give into his deepest urges. Hands were tugging at his own robes, drawing them up, and his soon joined them, until both he and Shara were in nothing but their small clothes.

Taking a long look at the woman before him, he couldn't help a happy sigh. She was as beautiful as he'd imagined, more so, since she was here, all but bare before him. Taking her face in his hands, he leaned down and kissed her again, restraining himself this time, savoring the feel of her lips on his.

His restraint was sorely taxed by Shara's hands on his hips, pulling him towards her. He finally gave in when one of those hands slid inside his small clothes. She crawled back as he leaned towards her, scooting until she was far enough on the bed to accommodate them both, her lids heavy, chest heaving and he was certain her heart was racing enough to match his own quickened pulse. Undoing the laces that held her breastband in place, he cupped both breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over her nipples. She responded with a soft, contented sigh and he lowered his head to taste.

"Take the Litany off of my body when you return, it will help you." Niall's voice was quiet, calm. He smiled at her with a strange mixture of pride and sadness. "You're strong enough, I know you can do this."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, you're coming with me, with us. Sloth is dead, you can come back." Tears stung her eyes and unexpected emotion welled in her chest. "Please."

Niall's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. The sensation was familiar, comforting, and she felt a sudden regret for leaving the Tower with so little thought for him. She'd been certain the urge that drove her to Niall's bed had been the same that had driven her to other lovers, but the feelings welling inside her told her differently. "My body has wasted away, Shara. I've been here much longer than you have, and-" He paused and kissed her temple, his lips trembling against her skin. "I'm as good as dead."

Throwing her arms around her former mentor and lover, her best friend, she let herself cry. "No, no, not like this. Not-" His mouth on hers cut her protestation short and for a moment she could almost believe things were as they were just before she'd left.

Niall broke the kiss and cupped her face gently. "I love you Shara. Make me proud." With that, Niall's form shimmered and disappeared as the yellow light of the Fade turned to black.

Shara lay snuggled against Niall's chest, his arm lazily wrapped around her shoulder. Neither of them had spoken since she had arrived almost an hour ago. Her Harrowing was in the morning, and Niall, lover or not, was still her greatest comforter. They'd continued to share a bed when they could, and in the two weeks since that first shared night, Niall had even dared to kiss her cheek after she'd mastered a particularly difficult spell. Her confidence towards the Harrowing had ended once she had found out the day was tomorrow – she'd expected another few days, perhaps even a week, after hearing the news a Grey Warden would be visiting to take a new recruit. "Niall?"

Lips pressed against the top of her head and his fingers tilted her chin towards him. "Yes?"

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "Do you think that, I mean..." Shara trailed off, trying to find the words. She knew enough of the Harrowing to know that you either came out a full mage or no one ever saw you again. She had a sick feeling those who disappeared were actually dead, and the thought of joining them made her hands sweat.

"Shara, you'll do well. You're talented and intelligent, and both are needed for the Harrowing. I have every confidence you'll be in and out of the Harrowing faster than you know it." Shara searched Niall's eyes for a hint of worry, a glimmer of concern that indicated he was only trying to calm her, but she found a quiet pride.

Leaning up to kiss him lightly, Shara smiled. "Thank you."The words were inadequate to express her gratitude, but it was the simple truth. He'd shaped her into the mage she was, and her earlier confidence began to return. Reluctantly pushing herself into a sitting position, she gave Niall once last smile. "I'd better get some rest."

He nodded, taking her hand to kiss her fingertips. "Good luck."

Blinking at the sudden light, Shara waited for her vision to clear. The room was quiet, the only sounds the slow breaths of others sleeping. Pushing herself, she swept her eyes around the room, searching for that familiar head of dark hair. When she found it, she forced her tired, sore body to its feet, stumbling over Wynne's sleeping form.

Dropping back to her knees once she reached Niall, she reached out, gently rolling him over. His face was still, his chest unmoving, and the Litany of Andralla was tightly clutched to his chest in with one hand. Tears stung her eyes as she pushed the book away, grasping at Niall's robes. She pulled his head into her lap, shaking her head, stroking his cold, still face, tears blurring her vision until she could no longer make out his features. She couldn't say if she loved him, but love didn't change how important he had been to her. Wiping the tears away, she kissed his cheek lightly before laying him out to rest, straightening his robes as best as she could before she crossed his arms across her chest. It wasn't much, but it was all she could do for now.

"Niall? Are you in here?" Shara's excited voice met Niall's ears as he finished off a short report on the progress his students were making in class. The lamp was low, and he realized he had no idea how late it was.

"Yes, come in." She rounded the corner, robes now orange and yellow, staff slung across her back, the marks of a full enchanter. He had to grin – he'd heard the news, but seeing her whole and happy was even better. "Congratulations, Enchanter Shara."

She laughed and did a slight curtsey. "Why, thank you, ser mage." Slinging off her staff, Shara tossed it lightly on the bed before plopping into his lap, arms snaking around his neck. "You'll never guess what else happened!"

As she told him what had happened with Jowan, he hated to admit to the feeling of relief she'd told Irving. She had a good head on her, though, and unlike some, saw the Tower as her home. She'd avoided getting into trouble, doing her best to focus simply on magic and taking the pleasures allowed her. She was practical, at least in that way, content enough with her lot in life. For now, at least. It was when she mentioned the Grey Warden that Niall began to frown. "His name is Duncan, and I am to be the new mage recruit for the Grey Wardnes! Isn't that wonderful?"

He found himself speechless. Niall wasn't sure what he'd expected out of sharing a bed with her, and he couldn't deny the excitement he saw in her eyes. Something inside him sank when he realized his feelings for her were deeper than hers for him. Maybe it was her youth, perhaps her nature, but at the moment she seemed to see no regret at leaving the Tower. "Do you want this?"

She blinked, her excited expression slipping. "The order is well-respected, and I'll be able to use my talents. I-" Shara's eyes widened as if the realization hit her. "Niall." She kissed him gently, and one of her hands began to stroke his hair. "I'm sorry, I-"

Niall cleared his throat. "No, it's alright." Forcing himself to smile, he patted her hip. "I'm sure you'll make a wonderful Grey Warden." Fighting to maintain composure, he dropped his eyes to the floor.

The silence hung between them for several minutes, neither sure of what to say. It was Shara who finally spoke. "We don't leave until mid-morning." Niall looked up at her again, her beautiful face full of concern. "May I spend the night here?"

His mind told him to let go of her, to accept the fact that she was gone, that she wasn't his, that she didn't feel what he felt, but his emotions gave in. Drawing her face to his, Niall nipped her lip lightly. "Always."

Uldred fell with a final blow from Alistair's sword, and Shara dropped to her knees in relief. She'd had to use the litany almost a dozen times, and while the spell took little energy, the entire battle had been exhausting. Pulling off her stifling helm, Shara panted hard, trying to ignore the gore that covered her armor. Looking down at the battered and blood-stained book, the tears she'd struggled to hold back since leaving Niall's body finally broke free, and she sobbed like a child. He's gone.

As Zevran watched Shara's hunched form shake, he was tempted to try and distract her with smooth words and an easy smile, but he had a feeling that whatever had upset her was something that couldn't be helped by anything he had to offer. In his months with the Warden he'd never seen her cry, and, despite having shared a bed, the moment felt entirely too intimate for him to intrude, a strange thing to think of when there was only Shara and the book she'd picked up after the terrible dream. Leaving her be, he moved among the mages, cutting their bonds and using soft words to comfort them.