Sleeping on a cold, hard ground with barely any bedroll to speak of was almost impossible, Hannah quickly found out. Supplies were minimal and whatever comforts they had went to those in greatest need - the elderly, the sick, the injured. With that in mind, she didn’t complain that she wasn’t getting more than a few hours a night because she knew others had it worse, and instead focused her remaining energy on making sure the kids in her care were warm and looked after.
As she laid down for the night and tiny bodies curled around her, she once again fought tears against memories of Haven and how many orphans were in this tent now. And how many more didn’t survive the dragon’s fire. The screams of death and destruction still rang in her ears - so reminiscent of her time in Amaranthine during the darkspawn attack almost ten years prior - and only got worse whenever sleep managed to claim her.
She was reliving yet another one of those nightmares, when she felt a gentle tug that pulled her out of the Fade and into the waking world. At first, she couldn’t figure out what was going on, but then she felt another, harder shake of her leg. Still disoriented, she raised onto an elbow and saw... Raphael Trevelyan at the entrance to the tent, his eyes worriedly looking back at her.
“What?” she asked blearily. Why was he here?
“You were having a nightmare,” he told her simply, then paused. “I’m sorry. Should I have not woken you up?”
Hannah shook her head and frowned; remnants of her nightmare still clung to her eyelids and she desperately wanted them gone. She rubbed at her face with her free hand and shot Raphael a grateful look.
“No, it’s alright,” she reassured him quietly. “My nightmares about the darkspawn returned.”
He frowned, clearly confused.
“Darkspawn? But there weren’t--”
“Amaranthine,” she said. The screams still lingered in her ears so she continued talking even though she didn’t feel like it was the time to share her story. “I was in Amaranthine during the Blight when a horde of darkspawn rolled through the city, and if not for the Grey Wardens and Commander Cousland, I would have died with the rest of the townspeople. I had nightmares about that attack for months, but that was almost ten years ago. They’re back, though they now feature a dragon and a whole lot more death.”
Raphael stared at her in shock. “I’m so sorry,” he said “That’s horrible.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” she told him, though the smile on her face felt strained and tired. “Besides, I have little ones to worry about, so I have no time to feel sorry for myself.”
As if on queue, one of the children closest to her moaned in his sleep and Hannah turned to the little boy to make sure he was still tucked in against the cold. It was difficult to keep these kids warm, but she would do her best to try. By the time she looked back at Raphael, he had a really strange expression on his face, one she could not decipher.
“Is everything alright?” she asked, suddenly worried. “Why are you here anyway?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to make a trip around the camp,” he said. “I tried to keep watch over Lily, but the healers kicked me out of her tent.”
Lily.
The Herald.
Raphael’s cousin.
Of course he seemed distracted when his only remaining family member had almost died in a massive avalanche and was currently recovering from her injuries
“How is she?” she asked softly, completely unsure what else to say.
He sighed, closed his eyes, and slowly rubbed at his face.
“She’s alive,” he said in a voice that was beyond tired. “Extensive hypothermia, multiple broken bones, and a face wound that will probably leave a nasty scar, but at least she’ll be alright. I don’t like that I can’t be by her side, but at least she’s resting.”
Hannah reached out and briefly covered his hands with hers, squeezing lightly; he gave her a smile in return, though it looked more like a humorless grimace. Then his eyes fell on the ground she had been sleeping on.
“Do you not have a bedroll?” he asked, frowning.
She shrugged. “There’s a shortage; I spread mine out so the kids would be more comfortable,” she said. “It’s fine, we’re all cuddling close for warmth and it’s almost cozy.”
The look Raphael gave her in turn spoke volumes about what he thought of such ‘comforts’. He stood up, unclasped his cloak and moved to spread it around her before she stopped him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded to know. “You need your cloak against the cold.”
“And you need all the extra warmth you can get, for yourself and the children,” he shot back. His eyes were determined and Hannah had a feeling she would not win this, even if she pushed further.
“But what about you?” she asked.
“My jacket is fur-lined. I’ll be fine.”
His tone brooked no argument and Hannah felt too exhausted to try. She let him spread the thick fabric over her body and the children that slept closest to her. A scent of nettle and clean, wet earth entered her nose, and she suddenly felt both warm and protected. She continued to stare at him as he smoothed out the cloak over the forms underneath it, and when his hand grazed over her shoulder, she felt a shiver run down her back that had nothing to do with the cold. Raphael was close to her now and she could see just how exhausted he was from the dark circles around his eyes.
“You should get some sleep, too,” she said softly. “There’s room next to Gordon, if you want.”
Raphael glanced to the spot she indicated and back to her; the smile he gave her was both sad and regretful. He shook his head.
“I snore like a fog horn,” he explained. “If you’re trying to keep these kids asleep, you want me far away from here.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she tried to reason with him.
“Yes, it’s that bad,” he said and stood up. He was towering over her now, his hair brushing the roof of the tent. “Get some sleep while there’s still time, alright? Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night,” she replied and watched him disappear behind the tent flap. The soft crunch of boots against the snow soon vanished among the noises of the night.
In the end, Hannah did manage to fall back asleep and not have another nightmare. Instead, she dreamt of the celebration at Haven, feeling the music flow through her veins again, speeding along with the mead she so enjoyed. And instead of a dragon, she dreamt of Raphael Trevelyan, the way he had looked at her when she had asked him to dance. In the Fade version of that night, she had danced with him until the morning, happy and carefree.
