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Sometimes when the air was thick and the night was heavy, Anders found Darktown too suffocating- even in his sleep.

On those nights he would wake up in a panic, feeling the skritch-skritch-skritch of darkspawn in his mind and the clammy bedclothes plastered to his skin. Nights below Kirkwall brought up memories of the year in confinement he had served and memories of the Deep Roads, in all their revolting glory.

Those nights left him wishing for someone to be in the bed next to him, as proof that he wasn’t alone.

He never had that comfort.

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