Ever since taking the darkspawn taint into his body and finding out for himself the kinds of skin-crawling nightmares Wardens endure as their unguarded, sleeping minds lay vulnerable, he has a new appreciate for how disconcerting it can be waking up with dreams grasping at him like slimy lengths of seaweed. Those few panic-stricken moments of not knowing where he is or who is aren't ones he relishes.

For that reason, the mage scoots back a ways when he feels his light brush of magic start to wake her, sitting back on his heels. When she snaps out of it, the first thing she sees won't be a long-limbed mage looming over her. Although he'd like to think his face isn't the worst a woman could wake up to, it's probably not the one a married woman wants to see.

Anders, still in his crouched position once her gaze settles on him, offers a humored smile. "I think the better question is, who are you? I'm Anders. You strolled past me on your way into the gardens for a walk. A sleepwalk."

And frostbitten limbs are a pain in the neck to heal properly, he can attest.