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Anders wakes up with a scream caught in his throat. His heart hammers inside of his chest and he's coated in a layer of sweat. The nightmare he's just awoken from clings to his mind like a fly in a web, struggling to be free but only succeeding in attaching itself more and more.
Eluvia is asleep beside him, her dark hair spread out against the pillows. She's so beautiful like this, peaceful and at rest, nothing to trouble her besides what exists in dreams.
But Anders knows that wasn't always the case. There was once a time when even her rest wasn't safe, with templars stationed at her bedside, ready to strike her down in case her dreams became infected by demons. Sleep could never just be peaceful rest for her, it had to be a constant struggle for survival.
The particular nightmare had been about exactly that. The feeling of being trapped in the Circle, never free, never safe. Always, always under constant watch by those trained to kill him in an instant.
Those memories linger. They wrap around him like a particularly thick fog, sticking to his skin and drenching him from head to toe, making him shiver.
He must shiver too violently because Eluvia stirs and cracks open one eye. “You're up,” she murmurs into the pillow.
“Am I?” Anders wants to curse himself for the way his voice shakes. “I didn't notice.”
Eluvia catches the tremble in his voice and sits up. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing. I–”
“Don't bullshit me, I'm too tired to pick apart your lies.”
Anders falters. “I had a nightmare.” He sounds so childish to his own ears, like a little boy crawling into his mother's bed after a bad dream.
“About what?” At least Eluvia doesn't sound bothered or annoyed.
“The Circle.” Anders swallows hard. “I know I'm free of that place, but sometimes it just… hurts. It still hurts.”
Eluvia nods in understanding, because she does understand. “I had a nightmare a few nights ago,” she says. “About that one templar, Cullen. He had a crush on me, I think. And he seemed so nice, but at any time he could've…” She trails off, leaving the horrors to the imagination.
“He could've,” Anders agrees. “With all that power and no one to stand against him.” He wraps an arm around Eluvia's shoulders, pulling her close to him. “I'm so sorry, love.”
Eluvia shakes her head. “I was lucky. No templars ever touched me.”
Anders wishes he could say the same.
Eluvia presses a kiss to Anders’ cheek. “We're not there anymore,” she reminds him. “We're free.”
“Free to die young from Blighted blood.” He makes sure there's a joking tone to his voice. “How fortunate.”
“I'd take this over the alternative,” she says, her voice unusually solemn. “I didn't know how bad things were until I was free of it.”
Anders’ grip on her tightens. “I'd never let them take you back,” he promises. “Never.”
“And I'd die before I let the templars take you.” She cups his cheek in her hand. “And I'd take them all down with me.”
Anders’ heart flutters inside of his chest. “I love you.”
He's never loved anyone quite so much as he loves this woman. He's never felt so safe, so protected. No templar in armor could ever compare to this one mage in her pajamas, half-asleep and unprepared for any attack.
Anders has never felt safe before. He hopes this feeling of safety never leaves him.